Maya and the Return of the Godlings

by Rena Barron

  “You have an elevated heart rate.” Mama’s eyebrows knitted together in concentration. “I can’t say what that means since you don’t need your heart to live.”

  “How could I love you so much if I didn’t have a heart?” Papa teased.

  “I’m sure you’d find a way,” Mama said, blushing. She drew the stethoscope back from his chest. “How do you feel now?”

  “Like a million dollars,” he answered with a winning smile.

  “Why do you have to be so silly?” Mama grumbled, but she was smiling too. “This is serious.”

  To any other kid, this would sound like an odd conversation. Papa and the other orishas had human and semidivine forms, but their true form was pure energy. That meant that he shouldn’t be able to have a racing heartbeat or any physical ailments.

  “Maya,” Mama said, still looking at Papa, “make sure your father gets plenty of bed rest while I’m at work. No more patching up holes in the veil tonight.”

  “I will, Mama,” I said, and I meant it. If we had another tear, I’d fix it myself, no matter how long it took.

  “Dinner’s on the stove,” Mama said, coming to her feet.

  I inhaled, taking in a whiff of tomato sauce and garlic and onion. Spaghetti. My stomach growled. Papa always made breakfast when he was home, and Mama made dinner. Things almost felt like they were normal again.

  “How was your first day back at school, baby girl?” Papa asked.

  I grimaced as I plopped down on the recliner. “Okay, I guess.” I sucked in a deep breath. “Oh, Winston Turner burst into flames at the park.”

  “Another godling?” Mama said, her eyes meeting Papa’s. They both looked worried.

  Papa glanced down at his hands. “It’s happening across the world in every sanctuary—more godlings showing powers.”

  Mama rubbed her forehead. “I’ll call Destinee on my way to work. She isn’t going to take the news about her son well, especially coming from Ida or Lucille.”

  “Are you coming with us to Azur tomorrow?” I asked Mama, then I realized I didn’t know how that would work. “Could she come, Papa, even if she’s not a godling?”

  “If she wants,” Papa said with a twinkle in his eyes. “But humans can only enter Azur with a celestial or godling to guide them.”

  Mama shook her head as the grandfather clock struck five. It was time for her to leave for her shift at the hospital. “Oh, no, I can’t get past the idea that the city is built on clouds . . . That doesn’t help my fear of heights.” She grabbed her purse from the table and kissed me on the forehead. “See that she doesn’t eat too much ice cream, Eddy.”

  “Cross my heart,” Papa said with a sly grin.

  * * *

  The next morning, Frankie and Eli showed up on our doorstep at seven o’clock sharp. Eli pulled off his wave cap and stuffed it into his backpack. He had indents across his forehead from wearing it. Frankie wore her retro green high-top sneakers to match her T-shirt, which read THINK LIKE A PROTON AND STAY POSITIVE.

  Eli nodded at her shirt in appreciation. “That’s actually pretty clever.”

  Both he and Frankie left their backpacks at my house as we headed out with Papa. I worried about what could happen while we were away in Azur. Even though the darkbringers hadn’t been coming through the tears lately, they could. With so many new tears cropping up every day, it was sheer luck that most weren’t stable. They could be waiting for us to leave to invade our neighborhood again.

  “We’re going to fly to Azur,” Papa said, as sparks of his magic spiraled around us. “It’s the best way to see the city.”

  “There’s a plane that goes to Azur?” Frankie asked, frowning.

  “Not exactly,” Papa said. His magic started to take shape. First a cluster of sparks here and another there. Then lines of light connected the sparks like a constellation of stars. Eli gasped as the magic settled into four winged horses. They stood side by side, their heads buried in the cranky twins’ tulips, which they ate in big gulps.

  “I don’t think Miss Ida and Miss Lucille are going to be happy about that.” I imagined the look on their faces when they discovered their tulips had become horse food.

  “I’ll make it up to them,” Papa said as he grabbed the reins of the star horse closest to him. “You first, Maya,” he said. “Show your friends how it’s done.”

  I bit my lip. My only experience with horseback riding was the time we went to the Wisconsin State Fair. I got to ride one with a trainer standing on the side, guiding the horse in a slow circle.

  “Um, Mr. Abeola,” Eli said, his voice squeaky. “You do realize that we can see through these horses. There are gaps between the magic.”

  Papa grinned. “Nevertheless, Eli, the beasts are stable for flight. Trust me.”

  It was Frankie who took the reins of another starlight horse and climbed up first. She swung her legs across the back of the horse in one quick move like a pro. “I can confirm that it feels solid,” she said as her horse lifted its head from the flowers and neighed.

  “Feels solid isn’t the same as is solid.” Eli climbed onto his star horse. It bucked, lifting his front legs from the ground, and Eli yelped as he hugged himself against its neck. “Whoa now! This is not the time to be bouncing around.”

  As Papa helped me mount my horse, I saw LJ getting out of his car across the street in front of Lakesha’s house. The two of them acted more like they were siblings than cousins. He waved at us, saying, “Nice bikes!”

  “Is that what everyone else sees: bikes?” Frankie asked, her eyes wide.

  “Of course!” I said, giddy with excitement. “The horses would look like something completely normal to human eyes.”

  “Mine is the dopest,” Eli called to LJ, a grin on his face.

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Our horses looked exactly the same. LJ squinted, confused for a moment as he stared at Eli’s horse. “Better keep it on lockdown—you know how it goes around here.” He meant how, earlier this summer, a kid got his bike stolen by some teens from another neighborhood.

  When LJ headed up to his cousin’s house, Papa said, “Follow my lead.”

  He nudged his horse first, and it charged down the sidewalk. The horse leaped as its wings spread wide and took flight, soaring up and up. My heart was beating fast as I nudged my horse, too, harder than I intended. The horse bucked forward and took to the sky. My head spun a little, but I could feel magic all around me, holding me in place like a seat belt.

  Papa left a trail of dust that spiraled upward as our neighborhood grew smaller. I glanced down at the tops of the buildings and cars that looked like ants. Soon we were in the clouds. The temperature started to change, but the magic adjusted to keep us warm.

  “This isn’t so bad,” Eli yelled over the roar of the wind. “I think I’m getting the hang of this!”

  It wasn’t bad at all; in fact, it was really fun. The wind whipped through my locs like it was eager to carry us to Azur—like it was Oya’s spirit. I never thought in a million years that I could be anywhere near as brave as she was in her comic books. She’d fought for justice against villains like Dr. Z until she set off on a quest fifty years ago. Papa said that it wasn’t unusual for celestials to go on quests for centuries at a time.

  I wondered what it would be like to travel across the universe fighting crime with the warrior goddess. Not that I would ever say that to Eli and Frankie. Hands down, they always had my back, and I wouldn’t trade our friendship for anything.

  Soon we were so high that we couldn’t see the ground anymore. The star horses pumped their wings hard as Azur finally came into view. The city sat on a cloud that spanned for miles among the stars.

  “Whoa,” I whispered, stunned by the beauty of the city.

  Papa slowed down his horse until we all four lined up to look at Azur from afar. Sunlight danced off the buildings made of silver and gold and glass. The whole city glowed. It was something out of a dream.

  SIX

&nb
sp; A case of mistaken identity

  Azur sat on a cluster of clouds so thin around the edges that you could see straight through them. Smaller clouds surrounded the city like islands in an ocean. In science class, we learned that clouds this high up were made of tiny particles of ice. These clouds had to be pure magic, or else there was no way they could support thousands of buildings.

  A palace straight out of a fairy tale stood in the center of everything. It had a dozen domed rooftops arranged in a semicircle that shimmered in the sun. Was that where ­Obatala lived? Miss Lucille had said that he was one of the first celestials, along with Oduduwa, so he must be pretty important. I hoped he could figure out what was wrong with Papa.

  “Are you three coming, or are you good with staring at the city from here?” Papa asked as he nudged his horse. It surged forward, star wings flapping in the breeze.

  “Oh, we’re coming,” I said, as we set off after him again. I couldn’t believe that this was happening. If someone had told me Azur was real four months ago, I would’ve said, Quit playing. Even though I was anxious for Obatala to help Papa, I was also excited about visiting the city for the first time.

  We descended toward an empty courtyard, where a man stood waving two white flags. My horse neighed and changed directions. The other horses did the same, and soon we tapped down on the ground.

  Eli hugged his horse around the neck. “Thanks for not dropping me.” The horse huffed in annoyance.

  The Azurian standing in front of us could almost have passed for human. He had pale skin and shaggy silvery hair, although the scales on his forehead and his neck were a dead giveaway. He grinned as his flags shrank in size, then he tucked a minuscule version of them into the pocket of his cargo pants. “Welcome back, old friend.”

  Papa beamed at him. “What are you doing on flight duty?”

  The man shrugged with a crooked grin. “I accidentally turned Obatala’s rose garden into a bed of vipers. I was trying to make them grow faster, but I used too much snake venom in my potion.”

  “Gavet, this is my baby girl, Maya,” Papa introduced me, “and her friends Frankie and Eli.”

  “I’m not a baby, Papa,” I said, under my breath.

  Gavet propped his hands on his hips and looked at me with wide-eyed surprise. “Has it been so long that you have another child?”

  A chill shot down my back. His words reminded me that Papa had a family before Mama. He had another wife and three children, Kimala, Genu, and Eleni. The Lord of Shadows didn’t care that they were just kids. He killed them to hurt Papa, and he would do it again if he had the chance. Eleni had been only a year older than me, and Genu had been a little kid.

  My brain hurt trying to keep all the problems straight in my head. The veil, the Lord of Shadows, and now Papa not feeling well.

  “I wish that I could say that I’m here for a social visit,” Papa said after a deep sigh. “I need to see Obatala.”

  Gavet squeezed the handle of one of the flags sticking out of his pocket like it was a nervous tic. “We heard the news about the veil. How bad is it?”

  I bit my lip before I said something that would get me in trouble. It wasn’t like the Azurians were in any danger from the Dark up here. They were safe. Well, scratch that—they were safe for now. The Lord of Shadows didn’t strike me as the type to destroy earth and be satisfied. He’d want revenge against all orishas, including the ones who lived on Azur.

  Papa cleared his throat. “If I recall, it’s almost time for the autumn festival,” he said, changing the subject. I got the feeling that he didn’t want to say more about his reason for coming to Gavet. “The merchants must be starting to decorate the markets by now.”

  “You kids are in for a treat,” Gavet said. How could both of them be so calm when all I wanted was to run to Obatala’s palace? “I’ll walk with you a bit. I’m due for a break.”

  Gavet fell into step beside Papa. They talked about football and a popular ice-skating competition on the rings of Saturn.

  Eli glanced over his shoulders back at the star horses. Sparks of light lifted from their backs, scattering in the air like a tornado of dust bunnies. Soon the horses disappeared. “There go our rides home.”

  “That guy looks exactly like Gavet.” Frankie squinted at a man standing on the field. He was waving his flag to direct a person flying on a giant hawk to land. He wore the same cargo pants and had the same shaggy silver hair.

  “Maybe his twin?” I suggested, but somehow, I knew that wasn’t true either. I looked around the field, and another Gavet was kneeling in a bed of roses. A third one was painting a mural of a cityscape on a fence.

  “I see you’ve spotted my other selves,” the Gavet with Papa called from behind us. “It’s a handy trick, eh?”

  “How many can you make?” Eli asked excitedly.

  Gavet shrugged as we passed underneath a stone archway that led out of the courtyard. “Never tried more than a dozen or so. Didn’t see the need to have more.”

  We walked alongside rows of rainbow tulips that would have put the cranky twins’ flowers to shame. When a breeze swept through them, the air smelled like sugar and cinnamon and vanilla. I sucked in a deep breath, and Eli’s stomach groaned. We passed by houses with paisley rooftops in every combination of colors imaginable. Orange and brown, yellow and purple, red and green, pink, gray, and black.

  The Azurians were tall and lanky, short and plump, and every shape and size. Some had skin as smooth as marble or scales and gills like Gavet. Tails swept along the ground. Wings tucked against backs. Long tentacles wiggled among feet like a motorcycle dipping in and out of traffic. Papa had once told me that some of the Azurians were human—and I had a lot of questions about that.

  “How are humans here if they aren’t supposed to know about magic?” I asked.

  “You’re inquisitive, little one,” said Gavet, laughing. “I see you’re your father’s daughter.”

  “She’s got her Mama’s sharp tongue and smarts,” Papa said, and my chest swelled with pride. “To answer your question, Maya, the humans here all have the gift to see magic. It’s a rare ability, but not unheard of. That’s why we must always disguise our work with fixing the veil back home. Never can be too careful.”

  Eli wrinkled his nose at a pair of elokos who darted across our path. “Please tell me that those guys are vegetarians.”

  “Not quite,” Gavet said, “but they’ve been weaned off human flesh.”

  “Until they get a craving,” Eli said under his breath.

  While we browsed the tables in the market, Papa got sidetracked by friends who hadn’t seen him in centuries. Orange silk stretched from rooftop to rooftop, spreading out into a canopy across one street. It was so sheer that sunlight shimmered through it, casting the pavement in dancing stars. Groups of people walked by us eating anything from palm-size three-tiered cakes slathered in buttercream to wiggling black jellybeans to salad on a stick.

  “Okay, this place must be heaven,” Eli said, rubbing his belly. “I want to eat everything in sight.” While he was craning his neck to eye everyone’s food, I was drooling over the whiff of waffle cone filling my nose with pure joy.

  “Zala, is that you?” asked a man who had stopped in our path. He eyed Frankie in disbelief. “I’d heard that . . . that you’d . . .” His voice cracked like he was choking up, then he shook his head. He looked human on first appearance, with golden brown skin and dark eyes. He wore his hair in short twists that stuck up everywhere and a thick beard covered his cheeks. He reminded me of Wolverine from the X-Men. “Sorry, my mistake,” he said, backing away. “I thought you were someone else.”

  The man whirled around to leave, and I almost jumped out of my skin. On the back of his head was another face covered in gray fur and brown spots. Dark eyes stared at us above a long black snout and sharp yellow teeth.

  Eli whistled as he grabbed my shoulder. “That’s a werehyena? Dannnng!”

  “I’m not a werehyena, boy,” snarled the
man, um, hyena, taking a step closer to us. “You insult me again, and I’ll take out one of your eyes.”

  “Hey, slow down,” Eli said, backing away. “Honest mistake.”

  “You’re a kishi,” I said, speaking up.

  Papa told me stories about the kishis. They had two faces—one human and one hyena. In his stories, they were always tricksters who literally had two faces. I had thought that he’d made that part up, like how sometimes people were two-faced. Meaning: you couldn’t trust them with your secrets. Those were the sort of kids who would pretend to be your friend today and talk behind your back tomorrow. The absolute worst. At least people like Winston, Candace, and Tay didn’t fake being your friend. You knew where they stood.

  “What’s it to you?” he said, baring his teeth at me.

  I couldn’t help but notice that his human side had been a lot calmer. His voice was different too. The hyena had a rough, grating voice like nails against a chalkboard.

  “Did you know my orisha mother?” Frankie asked, getting over her shock in record time.

  The hyena’s big eyes went wide in surprise, then he frowned at Frankie, almost in suspicion. “Are you claiming to be Zala’s daughter?” His deep growl softened, but not by much.

  Frankie crossed her arms. “That’s what I just said.”

  People moved around us, uneasy, as we stood facing the kishi. Papa and Gavet had gotten swallowed up by the crowd somewhere up ahead. The kishi’s black lips stretched back, revealing his very large, very sharp teeth. He looked like he’d eat us if he thought he could get away with it. I fingered the silver coin in my pocket. Magic tingled through my hand, itching underneath my skin.

  The kishi took one step toward us with his claws curled at his sides. “That’s close enough,” I said, pulling out the coin. It transformed back into a staff instantly.

  “Did you know my mother or not?” Frankie demanded, her shoulders shaking.