by Kwame Mbalia
Save me, the skulls had said. Save them from what? I wondered. The Shamble Man? Were they trying to flee him like the spirits back in the barn had? Or were they somehow channeling Nana…? I clenched my fists in frustration. I needed to get this ride back on course for…where? I didn’t know, exactly.
The boat shuddered, and Keelboat Annie frowned. “Now, what’s got Old Man River riled up?” We waited, but nothing happened, and she scratched her head. “That didn’t feel right. Well, anyway, that’s the story of them Talking Skulls. Whatever you heard them say was meant for you. It’s up to you whether you wanna listen.”
Meanwhile, Ayanna had been studying me the whole time. “Tristan knows all the stories. He can bring them to life when he tells them! Go on, show Annie—”
“It’s fine,” I interrupted. “I…just want to hear Keelboat Annie’s stories. How did you start giving the skulls rides?”
I tried to ignore Ayanna’s questioning looks. No need to tell her the Shamble Man had thrown my Anansesem abilities off-kilter. May your heart wither. May your tears fall endlessly, as mine once did.
Keelboat Annie cleared her throat several times, and a faraway look settled on her face. “Now, I told you I carried all sorts of folk up and down the river. Well, it just so happened that on one of them return trips, this old boat ran aground near a lake in the Grasslands.”
“The Grasslands?” I interrupted. Wasn’t that where Ninah was from?
Keelboat Annie nodded. “Behind Isihlangu. Whole countryside filled with lakes and cities just as pretty as can be. Like jewels, they are. Leastways, they were once. But after I’d dropped off some folks, Old Man River took me ’round that way. He always carries me to the next pickup, but I’ll be a fish out of water if he didn’t leave me high and dry in an old lake, just as muddy as you please. It’s like something had sucked all the water out of the Grasslands. Anyways, them Talking Skulls were scattered about in the reeds, waiting for someone to stumble on ’em and get in all sorts of trouble. Not Annie, though! Shoot, no. I, unlike some folks around here, know the score. Figured they were the passengers Old Man River wanted me to collect, so I did. And that’s what I was doing when you and ole Web Butt pulled me from my job.”
Anansi snorted from his spot in the hammock in the corner of the SBP, but I noticed he did it quietly. Probably didn’t want another chewing-out.
“So now where are you headed?” I asked.
“Back to the Golden Crescent, I figure.” Keelboat Annie returned to her post, where she loosened the pole and grinned. “Got a full load of passengers and one hero. Might as well bring ’em on home, right? Maybe you’ll find what you’re looking for there.”
The SBP vibrated, and when I looked down Anansi gave me a thumbs-up, like we were on the right track.
Home.
Before I could truly process that word, the boat surged forward. It sliced across the surface of Old Man River like a surfer. Ayanna threw back her head and laughed, and even I grinned. Drops of water splashed on our faces and arms, and dozens of rainbows appeared like ribbons in midair. I couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of the boat, but between Keelboat Annie’s sure hands and Ayanna cackling next to me, it felt like—for once—things were finally looking up….
Yeah. You already know.
They weren’t.
SEVERAL THINGS WENT WRONG FROM THE VERY BEGINNING.
First, Old Man River carried us angrily out of the mist, twisting and turning through a small field of razor-sharp grass before we splashed into the sea. Keelboat Annie steered us as carefully as she could, but her frown grew more troubled each time the craft shuddered or rocked unexpectedly. I could tell she was confused as to why her traveling partner was acting out of sorts. It was like the Old Man had woken up on the wrong side of the riverbed.
(Ha-haaaaa! I’m here all week.)
Still, we made it to the coast of the Golden Crescent unharmed. Wet, but unharmed. And for a brief period, it was magical. The shining blue waters of the bay rippled as far as the eye could see. Gleaming sand dunes rose to meet the ivory walls of the marina. We were on the north side of the bay, and the coast curved away from us like a backward C. Several large yachts with ruby-red adinkra symbols on their sails bobbed up and down in their berths. Behind them, up the gently sloping hills, palaces rose out of emerald-green forests, their golden-capped towers winking in the midday sun. It was the palaces that had given the area its name, and their beautiful splendor should have filled me with joy.
“Feels weird, doesn’t it?” Ayanna asked quietly.
Waves lapped at the boat’s hull as I stared at the spot where the Maafa had beached and unleashed a horde of iron monsters onto Alkean soil. It felt like only yesterday we’d all come together to battle the minions of the evil slave ship. Yet there were no lingering signs of the battle, save for the long floating wooden walkway anchored to the beach by thick pillars that stretched off toward the horizon and disappeared into the distance. John Henry had been building it the last time I’d seen him in person. He’d said it was a way to bridge the divide between MidPass and the Alkean continent.
John Henry, holed up in Nyame’s palace. Was he okay? I needed to find out.
“How long has it been?” I asked, peering around to see if anyone was hiding nearby.
Ayanna knew immediately what I was talking about. “Last time we saw you was a few months ago.” Time moved at different speeds in the two realms. I’d only been back in Alabama for a few weeks.
“We’ve been working every day,” Ayanna continued as Keelboat Annie hopped into the shallows and wrapped ropes around her wrists. With what looked like very little effort, the giant goddess began to haul the boat onto the beach. “Everyone. Cleaning, rebuilding, expanding. Some folks from the Horn came up, as well as people from the Sands. They’d escaped the notice of…the iron monsters, but now they’re all coming to our aid.”
“Sounds like everyone is pitching in.”
“They are. Well, except for the Grasslands. Haven’t heard from them yet, but I’m sure they’ll be coming soon, especially after we sent our special messenger. So, we’re making it. It’s been a little difficult at times, but everyone has welcomed the Midfolk without a single complaint.”
“Even High John?” I asked.
High John the Conqueror, the smiling god from MidPass with a giant shadow crow for a companion, hadn’t been too keen on working with the Alkeans, and he’d taken John Henry to task about it on several occasions.
Ayanna flashed a quick smile. “Yes, even him. Eventually.”
I scanned the beach. Something was bothering me. I tried not to let it show, but nobody’s perfect. “So…where is everyone?”
From the look of pity Ayanna wore, I hadn’t quite managed to keep the disappointment out of my voice. But the beach was empty. No shouting crowds, no joyful celebration. There wasn’t even a banner! I mean, it wasn’t like I was expecting much, you get me? But…I had helped save Alke. Okay, I also endangered it by uppercutting a magical tree, but we need to stop living in the past.
“I guess they’re all busy,” Ayanna said. “You know, rebuilding a country?”
After another second of glancing around hopefully, I sighed. Ayanna shook her head and turned away, probably to roll her eyes. The boat ground to a halt, and Keelboat Annie rapped on the hull. We hopped down, and the three of us—four, if you included Anansi—stared at the empty beach. The bay, which had been filled with ships of all sizes the last time I’d visited, now only had a few anchored in place.
Anansi yawned and climbed into his webbed hammock on the phone’s screen. “Well, this has been a wonderful cruise. Do me a favor, will you, boy? Leave me on the boat. I’m not exactly eager to see old Shiny Eyes again. He might find a new ‘task’ for me to perform, and this cramped metal rectangle is just starting to grow on me.”
“I don’t think—” I began, but it was too late. The spider god was already fast asleep, snoring lightly as he rocked in the SBP’s screen.
I glared at him, mumbling something that would’ve gotten me in trouble in school. But he did have a point. Nyame and Anansi weren’t exactly best friends. Quite the opposite. And I couldn’t risk losing Anansi to the sky god. I needed the trickster to help me unravel the mystery of the Shamble Man and rescue Nana before it was too late. It worried me that he would be on the boat by himself, but Keelboat Annie solved that issue by presenting the third and final problem.
No matter how much I tried to convince her, she refused to accompany us to Nyame’s palace.
“No sirree, I won’t step one foot up there,” she said, her large arms folded across her chest and a dark frown on her face. “They waited until the last minute to confront those iron monsters, and if they didn’t want my help before, they don’t need me now. Let them hem and haw all they want. Me and Old Man River will be just fine down here,” she continued, jerking a thumb at the rattling skulls on the deck behind her. “Besides, I’ve got to get these boneheads over to their new riverside home down the bay a bit. Get it? Boneheads.”
I groaned. It should be illegal for grown-ups to make puns. “Fine. Can you at least keep an eye on this for me?” I held up the SBP.
She raised an eyebrow but nodded, and I reluctantly passed over the phone. I didn’t tell her the passcode, though. No sense inviting trouble from either of the gods.
While Annie climbed back onto the boat and stowed the phone away, Ayanna squinted and put a hand up to shade her eyes.
“Hey, look,” she said. She pointed up the beach, where a tall, skinny boy with golden-brown skin sprinted toward us, kicking up sand as he ran. “Looks like your welcome party is finally here.”
“Ha-ha,” I muttered sarcastically. I did, however, straighten my hoodie and dust the sand off my Chucks. Gotta make a good impression, no matter who’s coming to thank you.
The boy skidded to a stop in front of us, spraying sand everywhere and sending us reeling backward.
“Hey,” I said, shielding my face.
The boy, who was a little older than me, wore a black-and-gold woven tunic and matching black pants. His hair was plaited and decorated with what looked like silver wires, the braids pulled back into a ponytail, and his feet were in sandals. A small silver-and-gold satchel was slung across his body, and he rested one hand on it as if its contents were precious. He wasn’t breathing hard, even though he’d just dashed a hundred yards, easy. A smile spread slowly across his face as he looked me up and down, raised an eyebrow, then dismissed me completely and turned to Ayanna.
“Hey, sis,” he said, winking.
Sis? Was this Ayanna’s brother?
She rolled her eyes, which didn’t answer my question. “Junior. What do you want?”
He threw his arms wide and put on an innocent face. “Come on, now, don’t be like that. I’m here to welcome you back! Everyone’s been waiting for you to return. Well. You and your…companion.” This last word he directed at me without so much as a glance.
“Hey!” I said.
Junior jerked a thumb at me. “Is that all he can say?”
I stepped forward so he had no choice but to look at me. “I can say a whole lot if it’s worth my time. Ayanna, who is this clown?”
“Don’t mind him,” she said. “This is just Junior, one of the people I told you about. You know, the ones who are supposed to be helping Nyame rebuild the Golden Crescent. Instead, he just cracks jokes and gets in everybody’s way. Sort of like somebody else I know around here.”
Junior and I ignored her shots at us and studied each other. So this was one of the Alkeans who had escaped the wrath of the iron monsters. He seemed…annoying. But at least he was here now, so he couldn’t be all bad, right?
I pushed my irritation down—way down—and held out my hand, forcing a smile onto my face. “Nice to meet you, Junior. My name is—”
“Yeah, yeah.” The boy flapped a hand as he interrupted me. “We get it. Everyone knows who you are. The hero. What, did you think there’d be a parade when you arrived?” Junior shook his head. “Anyone could’ve done what you did if the gods were blessing them left and right.”
My jaw dropped. The fact that I’d been hoping for some sort of fanfare only made his words sting more. Also, they were eerily similar to the Shamble Man’s, and that made me angry. “That’s not fair,” I spluttered. “You don’t even know me.”
“Yeah, well, life isn’t fair.”
I glared at him as he smirked. “All right, then, where were you when people needed help? Hiding?”
“Oh-ho.” He clapped a hand over his heart and pretended to stagger back. “I’m wounded.”
“Not yet. Keep talking and we’ll see.”
“Quick with the words, huh? Is that all you’re quick with? I wonder.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We’ve been told all about the mighty Tristan Strong, Savior of Alke. Hero. Leader against the horrific and the terrifying, a defender of justice. But I’ve heard a lot of stories in my life, tall tales and outright fiction. So I think we should make sure you are who you claim to be.”
“How?”
“A race. To the top of the hill. First one to the sky god’s palace wins.”
“How would that prove anything?” Ayanna asked, taking the words out of my mouth.
He didn’t answer her, and I stared at him in disbelief. He couldn’t be serious. I shook my head and started to turn around. This was ridiculous. I didn’t have time for childish games. I turned to Ayanna. “Come on, let’s go find John Henry and the others. We’ve got to warn them about the—”
Junior cleared his throat loudly. “John Henry isn’t seeing anyone.”
I turned around. “What?”
“You heard me. Word is he’s not seeing anyone except other gods. And, last I checked, you weren’t a god.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Miss Sarah or Miss Rose, then.”
“Busy.”
“High John?”
“Gone.”
“He’s on his recruiting mission with Thandiwe, remember?” Ayanna said.
I threw up my hands. “Fine, we’ll just go see Nyame and—”
“Wow, you just don’t get it, do you?” Junior squatted and began to stretch his legs, pulling the toes of one foot toward him, then repeating the same thing with his other foot. “No one’s gonna meet with you. You’re not important enough. We have a country to rebuild. Nyame has even placed his guardians at the entrances to his palace to keep out unwanteds while he and the other gods meet. And it seems to me you fall into the category of unwanted.”
That got my attention. I’d seen Nyame’s warrior statues in action. No way did I want to cross any of them. But I had to talk to the gods. I had to check on John Henry and see if he and the others would help me go after the Shamble Man. My grandmother needed us! I looked at Ayanna, but she bit her lower lip and shrugged. If we’d had her raft, we might’ve been able to sneak into the palace from the roof, but even that would’ve been risky.
We were stuck.
Junior stretched his arms out wide and began twirling them in small circles to warm up his muscles. He flashed a bright smile at me. “If you beat me in the race, I’ll show you a foolproof way of getting into Nyame’s palace.”
I stared at him. “You’re lying.”
He held up both hands. “I swear I’m not.”
I looked around the empty beach, then sighed. “Fine. Let’s just—”
“But if I win,” he said with a sly look, “I get five minutes alone with the Story Box.”
My hand automatically went to the pocket that normally held the SBP; then I remembered I’d given it to Keelboat Annie. And before I replied, Junior dropped the act and stood up straight. “I’m not playing games, Anansesem. No trickery, no theft. I just…” He paused, then cleared his throat. “The Story Box is legendary. All the stories, held forever and carried across worlds and realms? It is…a treasure. All I want to do is tell it a story
about my father, and how much he defined me and helped motivate me. He…left, a long time ago. This story about him is all I have left, and I would be forever grateful if I could tell it.”
A raw note of honesty had crept into his voice. I looked away, swallowed, and thought about another boy who’d wanted to record the stories of others. “No tricks?” I asked.
“None.”
I hesitated, then nodded. “Okay, but you don’t need to race me to do that. Why don’t you just—”
Junior backed up and shook his head. “I don’t take anything I haven’t earned,” he said, his words almost a snarl. “I will win, or you will.”
I nodded. I could respect that. And either way, the only thing I’d lose was time. I wasn’t going to get into Nyame’s palace without Junior’s help.
“Let’s do it,” I said. “Ayanna, you want to race, too?”
“Not a chance,” she said. “You two go look silly if you want—I need to stay with Annie.”
“Right. Work-study.”
“Working, unlike y’all.”
“You coming or not?” Junior asked me. With fierce determination on his face, he adjusted the satchel so it was on his back. The two of us lined up next to each other and jostled shoulders as we prepared to race.
“At least give us a countdown,” I said to Ayanna.
“Boys,” she said, shaking her head. “On your mark, get set, go!”
HAVE YOU EVER SPRINTED IN THE SAND? IT’S BRUTAL. ABSOLUTELY horrendous.
So of course Granddad had made me do it a few times when he held his annual Walter Strong Winter Boxing Camp. A fancy title that meant he got to drag me and some other unlucky amateur boxers to do sand sprints. Now, most trainers would head south for the winter, but not Granddad. If there was a way to make training more uncomfortable, Walter Strong would find it. Such as running as hard as you could next to a partially frozen lake. Yes, I’m talking about Lake Michigan in Chicago. In the winter.
Like I said. Horrendous.
Now I tried to keep up with the gangly-limbed boy as he tore up the dunes and slid down to the polished marble plaza beyond them. Arms pumping, half stumbling, we charged across the wide-open space toward one of the spiraling main avenues that led to the highest hill and grandest palace in all the Golden Crescent. But just before we reached the street, Junior took a sharp right turn down a narrow brick walkway steeped in shadows.