by Rena Barron
Fifteen minutes later, we strolled through the front doors of Jackson Middle School. Even if I’d seen a lot of the same kids at the park this summer, everyone looked different in their school uniforms. Kids were sifting toward the crowded halls to find their friends.
“Welcome back to JMS, students,” came Principal Ollie’s smooth voice over the intercom. “We’re looking forward to another exciting year!”
“Bulldogs, Bulldogs,” a group of basketball players chanted as they pounded on the lockers.
JMS had so many sport teams and clubs, it was hard to keep up. We had the Bulldogs for basketball, the Jaguars for soccer, and the Bearcats for football. Baseball, swim, chess, robotics, drama, gymnastics. What we really needed was an official comic book club, that would be awesome.
“Hey, little Maya,” Candace said, stepping in my path. “I see you forgot to grow this summer.”
I swallowed hard and clenched my teeth. It was a well-known fact that Candace liked to pick her victims on the first day. She’d single you out, and then she’d be demanding your lunch money for the rest of the year. I might not have grown by much, but that didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to let her bully me.
“Hey, Candace,” I said, ignoring the crowd of kids gathering around.
Instead of a snappy comeback, I decided to be what Mama called diplomatic. In addition to being one of Winston’s cronies, Candace was a chess wizard and allegedly good at Ping-Pong. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to give her a chance to talk about herself. “How was your summer? Win any chess tournaments?”
Every kid nearby cringed and the hallway fell silent. The fluorescent lights crackled over our heads. Zap. Zap. Zap. They might as well have been calling for a fight with the way today was playing out. I looked to Frankie and Eli, who both shrugged, not getting it either.
“Are you making fun of me?” Candace asked, her bottom lip trembling. I was close enough to see that her eyes had gotten all glossy.
“What happened?” someone whispered behind me.
“Didn’t you hear?” someone answered. “A kid from the West Side beat Candace in three games straight. She ain’t the chess queen no more.”
Ugh, of course, I would pick the exact wrong thing to ask. “Uh, no,” I said, scrambling for something else to say. “How’s Ping-Pong?”
“Are you serious?” Candace growled, then she pitched her voice so everyone else could hear. “I sprained my wrist playing, and that’s why I lost the chess tournament.”
“What’s a sprained wrist got to do with a game of strategy?” someone whispered, and Candace balled her hands into fists.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said as I caught sight of something fishy going on with Candace’s shoes. Her laces were untying themselves. “Eli!” I yelped.
“You think this is a joke,” Candace said, taking one step forward. She stumbled over her feet and slammed straight into me. We both hit the floor hard.
Candace and I struggled to untangle ourselves in the middle of the hallway. Her elbow caught me in the ribs, and my knee connected with her side. She doubled over, her backpack slipping off her shoulder. It landed with a heavy thump next to my head. Two more inches to the left, and I would’ve been a cream puff. I wiggled from underneath her, my face hot from embarrassment. The first day of school was officially canceled.
“What do you have in there, a stack of bricks?” I groaned. The backpack was half open, and I saw, like, five books on chess. She was really taking her tournament loss this summer hard.
“Fight, fight, fight,” kids yelled as Candace climbed to her feet.
She gritted her teeth, her lips squeezed tight together, and gave me her death stare. It felt like standing outside on a boiling-hot day or being an ant under a magnifying glass. The hallway had gone quiet again, and all eyes were on me. Sweat trickled down my back.
I got to my feet and squared up, shifting my legs to a wider stance and drawing my shoulders back. If Candace thought she was about to kick my butt, she had another thing coming. I didn’t spend my summer fighting darkbringers to be shown up on the first day of school by a bully.
Candace held out her hand, and Dion James, a kid with thick glasses, clambered forward to pick up her backpack. He shoved it into her arms with a little grin, and I could’ve sworn Candace blushed. “You’re mighty clumsy, Maya,” she said, her voice thundering in my ears. “I don’t like clumsy people.”
I caught a glimpse of Eli, who’d reappeared in the crowd next to Frankie. He mouthed a silent “Sorry.”
The first homeroom bell rang, and to my surprise, Candace looked more relieved than me. Her big shoulders heaved up and down as she rolled her eyes. The death stare faded from her face like it’d all been an act. There was something different about her, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“Saved by the bell,” she said, turning on her heels.
“That didn’t go at all how I expected,” Eli said as the crowd broke up.
“You know if you bully Candace, that makes you as bad as her, right?” I groaned.
Eli shrugged. “She deserves to fall on her face every once in a while on account on how awful she is to everyone else.”
“You’re missing the point, Eli,” I said, annoyed with him.
Frankie glanced around the hallway, oblivious to our conversation. “Have you noticed that kids are acting strange?”
I thought about how the darkbringers had pretended to be some of our classmates earlier this summer. They’d been acting strange too before they showed their real faces. “Strange how?” I asked. “Like a little strange or a lot strange?”
Frankie pointed to a boy staring up at the ceiling as he walked. He kept bumping into other kids, who shoved him out of their way, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Why is everyone yelling?” asked a kid who had their hands shoved over their ears.
That was a weird thing to say because the kids who were usually the loudest in the hallway were extra quiet. Another kid was clutching his backpack like he thought someone would steal it.
“Get to homeroom, Ms. Abeola, Ms. Williams, and Mr. Flores,” said our history teacher, Mr. Chang. He stood next to his classroom as the last of the students filed inside. “You don’t want to start the school year on the wrong foot.”
“As opposed to the right or left foot,” Eli said under his breath before we parted ways.
Frankie was right, though. People were acting strange. I had a theory, but I didn’t want to speculate, not until we saw more.
FOUR
There goes the neighborhood
The rest of the school day passed by in a blur. We attended a welcome assembly midmorning and got our schedules. Every year the seventh- and eighth-grade classes went on a joint field trip at the end of the first week. Principal Ollie announced that this year, we’d be going to the Field Museum.
After the last bell rang, I dreaded going to Ms. Vanderbilt with my half-finished workbook. I peeped my head in her classroom. She was in the middle of laying out quizzes on empty desks for tomorrow. A new kid I recognized from social studies sat in the front row, doodling. Her pencil scratched across her paper in long, furious strokes.
“Um, hello,” I said.
Ms. Vanderbilt had her usual red ’fro pulled back into a bushy ponytail. She glanced up and smiled. “Maya, have you met our transfer student, Gail Galanis, from upstate New York? She’s going to be joining us for tutoring this year.”
“Hi?” I said, not knowing why it came out as a question.
Gail yawned and slouched in her desk. “Hey.”
“Nice work,” Ms. Vanderbilt said, glancing over at Gail’s paper. “You handled those pre-algebra questions like a pro.”
I did a double take, staring at the drawing. Gail had arranged her answers together to create an unmistakable portrait of herself. Talk about retro selfies. But also, she was really good. My Oya sketches looked amateur compared to her work.
“Ms. Vanderbilt?” I asked, biting my lip.
“Would it be okay to skip tutoring today?”
My math teacher shook her head like I’d asked her to stop the earth from spinning. “Skipping the first day of tutoring isn’t a good start to the year, Maya, but if you must, so be it. Turn in your homework assignment, and I’ll begin reviewing your answers.”
“That’s the other thing,” I said, ducking my head. Ms. Vanderbilt pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing. “I need a few more days to finish it. I had a busy summer.”
Ms. Vanderbilt sighed. “What could have possibly kept you from finishing your workbook for the entire summer?” She’d said it like summer was twelve years and a day long.
Um, saving the world, I almost said, but thought better of it. Ms. Vanderbilt wasn’t an orisha or a godling, so she didn’t know anything about the Dark or the Lord of Shadows. It was weird after everything that had happened to keep such a big secret. I didn’t feel right about it, not since Papa said he wouldn’t keep secrets from me about his job as the guardian of the veil. But he’d also said that humans would panic if they knew about the Dark.
Gail Galanis tilted her head to the side like she was waiting for me to answer Ms. Vanderbilt’s question. I took her in for the first time. She was a little taller than me, with pale brown skin and dark eyes. She wore her black hair in a single braid that reached midway down her back. “I finished my workbook and only got it two weeks ago,” she said, turning back to her drawing.
“Says the girl who doodled on her practice sheet,” I said, crossing my arms.
“Maya, don’t be rude,” Ms. Vanderbilt said. “Please turn in your completed workbook by next Monday. That should give you plenty of time to finish it.”
I looked back and forth between Ms. Vanderbilt and the new girl, annoyed. I didn’t know Gail, but I already didn’t trust her. No way she finished her whole workbook in two weeks on her own. She must have had help.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said before rushing from the room. “See you tomorrow!”
I caught up with Eli and Frankie on the sidewalk in front of school.
“You’re cutting it really close,” Eli said, checking the time on his phone. “We need to hurry up, or we’re going to be late for the game.”
“Sorry,” I grumbled as we set off for the park. “Ms. Vanderbilt insisted on introducing me to Gail Galanis—this new girl at school.”
“She’s in my homeroom,” Frankie said, excitedly. “Artist type, always drawing.”
“Yeah, artist type,” I mumbled, rolling my eyes.
“Looks like you have some competition,” Eli teased.
“Ugh,” I groaned. The knot twisting in my belly was most definitely not jealousy.
“Get your mind right, fam,” Eli said, tapping his temple. “We have a game to win.”
The teams were still warming up when we made it to the park. People climbed the bleachers next to the field to get the best spot to see the game. Some stood in long lines in front of the hot dog and snow cone carts. Eli had convinced Frankie and me to join a kickball team when we got back from the Dark. He said it was a good way to stay in shape since we had to be on our A-game if the darkbringers ever got through the veil. Personally, I would’ve preferred lessons at the dojo.
“What the . . .” Eli said, cursing under his breath.
Winston, Tay, and Candace had lined up in our spots.
“Hey, Craig,” I called to the team captain.
He straight up ignored me, so I called his name again. “CRAIG!”
“You’re too late,” he shot back, not even bothering to look at us.
“But the game hasn’t started yet,” Eli argued. “You’re being completely unfair.”
Winston shot me a smug smile over his shoulder. “Too bad.”
I held my breath. The look on his face reminded me of the darkbringer who had pretended to be him earlier this summer. I almost thought that he was going to add “little godling” at the end of his sentence.
“Next time, you’ll be begging us to play on your team,” Eli said, glaring at Craig.
Frankie sighed, turning to go. “Come on.”
We were almost off the field when someone screamed. The hairs stood up on the back of my neck as I whirled around. Kids scattered in every direction. Candace and Tay were backing away from Winston, who was on fire. Angry blue flames climbed up his arms.
“Argh!” he yelled as smoke curled around his body.
He was on fire, yes, but the flames weren’t burning him.
I expected Winston’s skin to turn deep purple or blue, or for him to sprout a barbed tail and wings. I grabbed for my staff, currently disguised as the butterfly clip in my hair. It shimmered with white light and grew into its full length right in front of everyone.
“I didn’t sign up for this,” Craig said, clutching the ball under his arm. He joined the rest of the crowd running away.
I brought the staff into a defensive position in front of me. “You picked the wrong day to mess with us, darkbringer.”
“What?” Winston asked, blinking back tears. “What’s happening to me?” I almost felt sorry for him until he narrowed his eyes and flames shot straight for my head. “You did this!”
I ducked out of the way, and Winston looked quite pleased with himself.
“That’s enough from both of you,” Miss Ida said, stepping around me. The cranky twin wasn’t wearing her pink bonnet. She had her silver hair in braids that swept down her back. She put a hand on Winston’s shoulder and the flames across his skin sputtered once before they disappeared. I glanced around to see Miss Lucille, the other half of the cranky twins. Her blue magic spread across the entire park, stealing away people’s memories.
I remembered what the orisha council told us about the godlings. Except for a couple, no godlings had shown powers for decades until Frankie, Eli, and me. But they also said that the last time before the war with the Dark, things had changed . . . It couldn’t be—no way.
“He’s a godling?” I asked, already knowing the answer before Miss Ida nodded once, a look of worry on her face.
“A bully turned godling,” Eli proclaimed, throwing up his arms in defeat. “There goes the neighborhood!”
Winston was a bully with magical powers, but we were in bigger trouble than that. If more godlings were showing powers, the war with the Dark would come soon.
FIVE
I ride a horse made of starlight
Candace and Tay trailed behind as Miss Ida dragged Winston from the park like he was a lightweight. He twisted his arm and cursed but couldn’t free himself from the cranky Johnston twin’s grip. I knew what that felt like all too well after the night she rescued me from the writhing shadows.
“You better let me go, old lady,” Winton demanded. “I’m not playing with you.”
“Oh, you’re not, eh?” Miss Ida said.
“I got all that on video.” Tay grinned as he slipped his phone in his pocket. “My boy is about to go viral.”
“That’s what he thinks,” Eli said, crossing his arm. “Winston finally does something worthy of the internet, and they have no proof of it.”
“Serves him right for shooting fire at my head,” I said, glaring at his back.
“He was wrong for that,” Frankie added.
I remembered how the darkbringer pretending to be him had tried to kill me at the start of summer. How at Comic-Con, the fake Dr. Z had attempted to finish the job. And the countless times in the Dark when my friends and I came close to getting the ax. Now the biggest bully of our class could control fire—well, not control it, but he could call it up. It was just a matter of time before he’d learn how to use it and wreak even more havoc at school. This was very bad.
“The Johnston twins should lock that one up in a dungeon somewhere,” Eli said, once they were out of earshot. “No way he’s joining the League of Godlings.”
Frankie sighed. “If he has powers, that can only mean one thing . . . and we might need his help.”
“He’s more likely to join
the darkbringers than help us,” I said, only half kidding. It was easier to make a joke instead of thinking about what this meant. With no way to stop the veil from failing, more godlings would show powers. The orisha council had told us that many godlings had died in the last war against the Dark. I didn’t want to see that happen to anyone, not even Winston.
Within minutes, everything was back to normal in the park as if a kid hadn’t just caught on fire. I glanced down at my feet, biting my lip. “Papa’s sick,” I said, finally getting it off my chest. “We’re going to Azur to see if Obatala, the Sky Father, can figure out what’s wrong with him.”
“Is it even possible for a celestial to be sick?” Eli asked.
“Immortals aren’t invincible,” Frankie said, her voice low as she fiddled with her bracelet. The sunlight sparkled against the beads as she twisted them around her wrist. “Remember what Miss Lucille said about the Lord of Shadows absorbing the celestials . . . and my mom died.”
I stopped in my tracks. Tears prickled in my eyes. Frankie still didn’t know what happened to her first mom. Everyone said she went to the store to get milk and never came back, but there had to be more to it. Seeing my face, Frankie slapped her hand over her mouth, shaking her head.
“Maya, I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to make it seem like . . .”
“It’s all right—Papa is going to be okay,” I said before she could finish her sentence. “Anyway, he’s going to ask your families if you can come with us tomorrow morning before school. We’re leaving extra early.”
Eli grimaced. “Like early early?”
“Yup,” I said, nodding.
“I’m in,” Frankie said, flashing Eli a smile. She knew how much he hated getting up early.
“I better get home,” I said, thinking about my math workbook. “See you in the morning!”
We executed a perfect three-way fist bump and parted ways. When I got home, Mama was next to Papa on the couch with her stethoscope pressed to his heart. She wore her usual scrubs: a pastel-colored flowered top and gray pants.