Jin held her gaze for another long moment before agreeing.
“Either way, you’ll have to conquer your fear of water. We have to travel to Kowloon Madyan and we can only travel to it by boat.”
Seeing she had no choice, she puffed her chest out as if she were inhaling courage and was the first to climb into the wooden boat. Benja’in-su took a seat next to her, stuffing her elaborate dress between her knees, while AJ grabbed the pole and moved to the rear of the boat. Onyu took the bow, sitting gracefully, the billowing silks from her dress cascading over the side of the boat.
As they passed the gate, Kowloon proper came into sight. Jin had never seen anything like it. Kowloon stretched out for miles and miles and miles until you couldn’t see it anymore. The entire center was flooded, filled with water that pressed up against the outer walls of the city. There were smaller walled cities, much like Nuh, floating in the water.
“As I told you, Nuh is the largest city and operates the largest gate. Each city is a pod with Middlemost being at Kowloon’s center.”
They continued on, AJ rowing them through the canal like traffic system that connected each city. There were other boats, but they were void of occupants. Or at least Jin thought. They would float by, only pausing when they would approach the boat. Onyu would incline her head in greeting and the boat would continue on its way. Jin tempered that like she tempered everything else here; with a confused frown.
When they passed the huge walls of a city, Benja’in-su would call them out with childlike zeal.
“That’s Kowloon Ein Gedi. It’s a paradise! Saba lives there now. She’s a Morg’ah’nee, too. She might be the richest one.” Sometimes later they passed another one. “Oh! That one is Kowloon Phrygia. The inside is constructed like a giant knot! Two Morg’ah’nee twins, Chel and Sea rule it like it’s a kingdom. Something about being descendants of Cybele. It’s all false, but nobody stops them.”
“Are you going to go through them all, Benja?” Onyu asked tiredly.
“No,” she pouted. “Only the ones we pass–Look! It’s Kowloon Via Dolorosa!” Some of the excitement left Benja’in-su voice as they passed the walls of the city with a single white gate breaking up the monotony of walls as black as night. “It’s a place of mourning.”
They rode the rest of the journey in silence. Mostly silence. If Benja’in-su saw a fellow Morg’ah’nee, they would yell their greetings and follow it up with a fast-paced conversation shoved past black, smooth, polished teeth that only they could follow.
They reached what Jin guessed was Madyan. It was a guess because a place as ominous sounding as Maydan would look like this. The outside gate walls were a deep red, almost burgundy, with violent splashes of a brighter red. It looked like spilled blood thrown on stone. The walls reached high, casting a shadow over their boat. The pointed, golden spikes along the top seemed to serrate the cloud like gilded teeth.
AJ steered them toward the large red gate and the doors began to creak open. The sound reverberated all around Jin, even in her head. It sounded like whispers and Jin did not like whispers, so she concentrated on shutting them out. They floated inside of Madyan and Jin was able to see a startling difference between Nuh and this place.
“This place looks like it’s been destroyed,” she pointed out.
There was no forest center like Nuh or Phrygia. It was nothing but the walls and the water. Stone structures that looked like they used to be buildings or houses jutted out of the water. Abandoned boats floated along, rocking back and forth in the disrupted water as they guided by it. The rooms that occupied the walls looked barren and debilitated, with black curtains fluttering in the wind.
“There’s nobody here,” Jin pointed out.
“Trust me,” Onyu said her head jutted back and forth, looking over her back with something akin to fear. “There is someone here.”
CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR
AJ continued to row deeper into Madyan, slow and precautious, as if she thought someone was going to jump from the water and attack her. All three Discordians were on edge and seeing them behave that way, their heads swiveling towards any sounds made in the enormous vacant pod, in turn, put Jin on edge.
“Is there something I should know?”
“There is a lot you should know,” Onyu murmured, “and there is a lot you are going to learn. Very soon.”
Typical. “That sounded ominous.”
“The lesson isn’t. Learning it on the other hand…” she held up her hand. “AJ, steer the boat towards the statue.”
Jin looked to where Onyu indicated but it wasn’t like she hadn’t noticed the towering statue in the center of the Madyan. “That’s Eshu.”
Onyu looked over her shoulder, a brow raised, impressed. “You know of the orishas?”
“I’m surprised you people know of the orishas. I wouldn’t think that Yoruba faith would do well in a place that’s obviously connected to Abrahamic religion.”
“Ah. You think heaven and angels and hell are simply based off Abrahamic religions? The concept of a God, a Creator is cemented in just Abrahamic religions? Spirits exist even if there isn’t a religion to document them. That’s beside the point. How well do you know of them? The orishas?”
“Faintly. I have a few figurines in storage. I planned on studying up on it one day but you know…dying kind of interrupted that.”
Onyu nodded. “Madyan may look foreboding but dark doesn’t mean it is bad. Dark observes light, while light allows dark room to grow. Madyan was blessed by Ọlọhun: The Creator,” she emphasized, “and continues to serve as a place for those orishas to commune with one another or to visit when they choose.”
“They chose the most destroyed place in Kowloon?” Jin looked around at the remnants of a city lost as they floated by the boat.
“They destroyed it. Kokou, Ògún, and Olókun, but the others helped. It was originally built in a fashion they despised, drenched in a culture that’s been responsible for the death of so many like them. So they destroyed it.”
The boat came to stop along an island of pale river rocks, worn smooth from the water. “Jin, climb out of the boat.”
Jin did as she was asked, climbing out and walking along the rocks to the center of the island. The imposing statue loomed over her, blocking the sun. Shivering, Jin looked up at it. “So what’s next?” After getting no response, she turned back towards her escorts only to find the boat creeping away. “What,” she laughed as she watched, incredulously, the boat drift further. “Are you going to leave me here?”
“Yes.”
“No, wait. Seriously?” she yelled. There was no way they were going to…
“Eshu will protect you…in his own particular way.” She said it in a calm tone, as if she wasn’t about to abandon Jin on a tiny island made of rocks in the middle of a water wasteland.
“I don’t give a damn what Eshu is going to do! Bring the boat back!” she yelled. “How am I supposed to make it out here by myself?”
“You have your spear now! This is your second test, Jin,” AJ yelled back to her.
She glanced at the spear across her back. “On what? How to poke a fish in the guts with a shiny piece of metal? Come back and get me!”
“You’ll do fine!” Benja’in-su said. “…I think!”
“Come back!” Jin collapsed to her knees as the sight of the wooden boat began to disappear behind the large red gate. She looked high in the sky. The journey here had cost them most of the daylight. Night was falling and the twinkling stars were starting to show throughout a lilac sky. Jin hugged her knees to her chest as the loud sound of the gate locking into place echoed over the water wasteland.
“Come back,” she whispered.
CHAPTER SIXTY FIVE
Night had descended across Discord.
Jin never paid much attention to the night. She was always tucked away inside of Kowloon Nuh, in a room that looked like her old room, the warm white fire by her bed, a hot meal in her stomach and the blinds clo
sed. It was foreign, it was maddening, but it was safe.
Being outside at night, especially in a place as creepy as Madyan, was different. Jin wasn’t afraid of the dark. The dark comforted her. Maybe that was because she always knew what was in the dark. Shen was in the dark, the slow burn of liquor was in the dark, nightmares of Chaerin were in the dark.
Madyan’s dark was different. She didn’t know this place. It didn’t have a face or a name or a smell. This dark was unfathomable, unrecognizable, and unkind.
Jin was afraid.
She huddled next to the tall statue of Eshu, its wood cool, but not as cool as the wind whipping around Madyan. Her spear was in her hand, clutched so tightly she thought she would become one with it.
“It’s fine,” she said, pushing her pale hair out of her face. “This is a test of survival. I can survive until the morning. There is nothing here to hurt me. It’s fine, I’m fine,” she murmured over and over again, her eyes locked on where she thought the gate was.
“There is something that can hurt you everywhere, ọmọ.”
The voice came from above her and Jin scrambled from the base of the statue, spinning towards it, her spear held out in front of her. Her breathing was harsh and loud in the absolute silence of Madyan. “Who is it?” She slashed at the air. “Who said that?”
“I’m not a who, I’m a what.” The voice was deep, yet playful. Not that their jovial tone meant anything. She was sure there were ax murderers who told a mean knock-knock joke.
Jin couldn’t find the source of the voice. It sounded too close to come from a boat on the water, or from one of the abandoned apartments that lined Madyan’s walls.
“Onye mere nwa nebe akwa…” the voice sang, its deep voice echoing in the air.
“Show yourself!” Jin screamed, panicked. If she had to fight, defend herself, she would do a much better job if she could see the person.
“Onye mere nwa nebe akwa…”
“Stop trying to scare me!”
“Who made the baby cry?” they continued to sing. This time the voice was closer, much closer. It sounded like it was right…behind…
Jin whipped around and screamed, launching herself backward, her back colliding with the statue of Eshu.
The figure sounded almost as startled as she was. “Mogbe! I did not know you were going to react like that! I thought you would laugh! Most people laugh! Why are you not laughing? Am I not funny?”
Jin’s chest heaved and her heart was racing too fast to digest what the man was saying.
“Ah, a light, a light. We need light! How much light do we need? How about this?”
Jin screamed in fright when the walls of Madyan caught on fire, the flames igniting the air, the heat bearing down on her from all sides. Jin crouched away from the flames and covered her head, whimpering.
“Whoops! Too much!” The sound of hands clapping twice bought control to the flames, concentrating them at one point, a floating bonfire just southeast of them. It didn’t light up the entire wasteland but it did illuminate her side of the island, enough for her to see who was harassing her.
He wasn’t a very tall man, but he wasn’t short either. Smooth dark skin, full lips, and nice teeth greeted her when he smiled. He was dressed incredibly modern for someone inhabiting a pod city in a backward realm such as Discord. He wore a suit, dark blazer and dark pants to match. On his feet were some shiny leather shoes with no socks. His neck was covered in a parsley patterned ascot, one half of it black, the other half of it red.
“Sorry about the fire, ọmọ.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and tilted his head to look down at her. “Although I speak every language known in your realm, I’m not so sure about your customs. It’s been a while since I was ordered to gossip on the children of Ayé.” He took one hand out of his pocket and held it out. “You shake hands, right?”
Jin looked at his proffered hand like he was insane. “What?”
“To introduce yourselves? You shake hands, no? Let me see what I remember.” He cleared his throat. “I’m supposed to say ‘I’m Eshu’ and then I stick my hand out like so and then you’re supposed to take it and move it up and down like so,” he paused to demonstrate, his hand moving as if he were shaking someone else’s, “and then you’re supposed to go ‘Hello, I’m Jin.’ And then–”
“The point of introducing yourself is pointless if you already know who I am,” Jin deadpanned.
Eshu nodded sagely. “That is so. Ah! Where are my manners? You must be famished. Would you like a sweet yam? It’s a very special yam. I stole it,” he giggled.
“From who?”
“Does it matter? Do you want it?”
Jin eyed him warily as he produced a sweet yam from thin air and held it out for her. It would probably be much, much better roasted over a fire, but the fire wasn’t close enough and she wasn’t sure she wanted to brave the water to get closer. Making up her mind, she nodded. Eshu grinned and the yam disappeared from his hands and appeared in hers. She was surprised. It was hot to the touch. Famished, Jin tore into it, skin and all, letting the sweet tuber fill her belly. When she was done, she wiped her mouth and looked up at Eshu to thank him. She paused when she noticed him giggling. Again.
“What are you laughing at?”
“Nothing,” he said, barely able to contain his mirth. “Just that I stole that sweet yam and now I will blame you for it. Stole it right out Ọlọhun’s garden, I did! They are going to be so cross! So cross!” he giggled. “I cannot wait!”
Jin blanched. “Why…why would you do that?”
“Why would you accept food from strangers? I did tell you that harm could come from anywhere, didn’t I?”
Jin gripped her spear. “Did you come here just to play games?” she barked. “I have other things to worry about than some weirdo prankster god playing tricks on me. Go away.”
“You’re no fun to trick.” He tsked at her. “I cannot go away. I am your way out of here.”
Jin’s grip on her spear loosened and she stood up straighter. “You are?”
“Of course, ọmọ. Why do you think I appeared? Onyu was kind enough to give me the opportunity. I haven’t had one in a long time. Everyone here is used to me, you see.” He suddenly disappeared in a whiff of black smoke, only to reappear in front of her in a puff of red, closer, where she could see the stubble on his face and the kinks in his tightly curled hair. “But you are different. You’re jaded and angry and full of guilt. Your kind is the most fun to play with!”
Jin gulped and tried to take a step back, but she was already flush against the statue. “A–and why is that?” She surreptitiously moved the bottom of her spear so it was in line with her foot, and the tip pointing just under Eshu’s neck.
“Because,” he sang, his eyes twinkling.
Jin didn’t believe a word he said. He couldn’t be here to help her. Yet, if she was going to survive the night, she knew she had to survive this man. As he opened his mouth to speak, she thrust upwards, remembering the move from the kata AJ forced her to go through morning after morning. It was a good thrust, she’d aimed it perfectly, but Eshu vanished in a burst of black and reappeared a step away, the red dissipating to show his frown.
“You were ready to kill me? Good! But also bad, very bad. Naughty human! Careful, ọmọ. I am the only one keeping the Madyans from descending on you. The smell you. You smell delicious, they say.”
“The–the who?”
“Madyans. Goryō. Noh’fu’s. They have so many names, Eshu forgets sometimes! They guard this city. You didn’t think it was unoccupied did you?” He pointed to the empty apartment windows. “They watch. Do you want to say hi?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Do they scare you?”
Eshu abruptly waved a hand and water emptied from the top of the walls, blocking the apartment windows. Amazingly, the water level didn’t rise, no matter how much water poured in. Jin exhaled.
“You’re helping me? Why?”
“Because those who are c
louded by anger and guilt take the longest to see that sometimes salvation is right in front of them.” He paused and a smile stretched across his lips again. ”It’s because they are selfish. They think their pain is surmountable to all the pain in the world. As if it’s new and they are alone in experiencing it. Pain is old and everlasting in this world. It is here to stay, ọmọ.”
Jin glanced at him warily. “I don’t need a lesson on who I am from you.”
“I’m not the one who is going to give it to you,” he said. “She is.” He turned sideways, took a step back and extended an arm, his finger pointing across the water.
Jin gasped. She couldn’t tell just how far away but sitting in the water was another island, identical to hers, the statue of Eshu towering in the night air and a bonfire just northeast of it. On the island was a figure, sitting in the crux of the statue’s clutched hands, one leg dangling down, and the other propping up an arm. A large battle ax peeked over her shoulder.
“Who the hell is that?”
Eshu’s smile inched up his face like a snake after a mouse. “Here are the rules to my game. You’ll have until the shadow disappears from every corner of Madyan to prepare. That should be around “noon” or when the sun is high in the sky. Once her island is shadowless, it will free her. When she is free, she will attack you.”
Jin laughed. “Is she going to walk on water?”
“Yes! You can too. The sweet yam from Ọlọhun’s garden is filled with ashé or…ruah as Onyu puts it. You’ll be a little handier with that spear as well.”
Jin’s laughter tapered off. “You’re serious aren’t you?” She scoffed. “Look, guy. I’m a terrible fighter. I may have done some neat things once upon a time in a forest, but I’m going to fail this test. I can’t fight,” she said desperately.
A Third of the Moon and the Stars Struck Page 39