CHAPTER

MPONYAJI

Mponyaji called out, but Kanzi was fast, and his voice was a mere croak. She didn’t stop or act like she heard him as she raced out of the jungle. She made him tongue-tied. The whole time she’d been near him, his roiling emotions had calmed and all he wanted was to bask in the peace she brought with her.
He wanted to ask her to stay. Ask all about her life. And most importantly, if she felt the same draw to him that he felt toward her. How she worked whatever magic made the world seem lighter, full of hope and happiness instead of darkness, death and despair.
But all she’d left him with were questions and a package of gum. He held it close to his nose and sniffed. It had a sweet, fruity scent that made his mouth water.
Cherries.
It was tempting to rip open the packet and try the treat, but he resisted the urge. He might never have cherry gum again, and the scent wouldn’t last long. Better to savor it and leave the package sealed.
The jungle around him went silent, bringing Mponyaji out of his silent debate. Animals going about their lives was constant background noise. Birds singing and squawking. Rustling as creatures scurried through leaves and undergrowth. Insects buzzed and hummed. When everything stopped, it meant a predator was on the hunt.
Or something that didn’t belong was coming.
A sense of unease made the hairs on his arms and nape rise. He closed his fist around the splinter of spear and stood, slowly turning until some primitive instinct told him he faced the danger. Nothing looked any different, but it felt like this part of jungle was watching him.
Nothing moved in the dense vegetation. He held perfectly still, afraid to breathe. Tension built, thickening the air until it squeezed around him. His heart thudded, echoing in his head. Eyes watering from staying open, he fought the urge to blink. Even taking his eyes off the jungle for that tiny amount of time might trigger an attack.
“Mponyaji.”
Mponyaji felt like he levitated ten feet and his heart would explode as he whirled to face the voice. His breath whooshed out, but he held back a scream and raised his broken spear.
Two men rushed toward him. One had long braids, the other short, spiky hair. The one with the braids looked like a warrior. He had a fierce countenance and had his black eyes fixed on some point behind Mponyaji. A small shield hung from one arm, and he carried a mambele in one hand, although this axe was longer and had more blades than usual, facing forward, back, and up.
A coiled sjambok hung from his belt. At least it looked like a whip until Mponyaji saw it open an eye. The man sprinted past Mponyaji toward the jungle where he’d felt the threat.
“Wait —” The single word was all Mponyaji could utter before the warrior disappeared into the vegetation.
“He knows what he’s doing.” The other man resembled Kanzi. He waved at the spear Mponyaji held. “There’s no need for that. Kanzi sent us. She said you need some help with your sister.”
Did the warrior know what was in the jungle? Could he help get his parents back? There was nothing Mponyaji could do to help the warrior. He couldn’t even be sure it had been the Obayifo in the jungle. Mponyaji lowered the spear.
Kanzi’s father sat on the ground. “Amoa will be back. While we wait for him, why don’t you tell me about your sister and how I can help?”
“Kanzi said there was nothing to do.”
“That might be true, but I won’t know until you tell me what happened.”
Something about Kanzi’s father was comforting, and invited Mponyaji to heap all his problems onto the man. Words threatened to spill out, but he held them back. He couldn’t let himself get his hopes up only to have them crushed. He did let himself sit next to the comforting presence though. Kanzi’s father felt like safety in the storm Mponyaji’s life had become.
“Maybe you could just tell me your sister’s name.”
Lutin the civet bounded out of the jungle and scrambled into Mponyaji’s lap, clever paws and sniffing nose moving over his clothes.
“Lutin,” Kanzi’s father chided. “Stop that. You don’t need any more mandazis.”
Lutin did not agree, chittered in reproach, and continued his quest, bringing a small smile to Mponyaji’s face even as he held his packet of cherry gum out of Lutin’s reach. “Shujaa would like your Lutin.”
“Shujaa.” Kanzi’s father smiled as he scooped the civet into his lap. “And is she a hero?”
“She is a pest.” Mponyaji clapped a hand over his mouth, regretting the words. How could he say something so mean when Shujaa was so sick? “I didn’t mean —”
“Yes, you did, and there is nothing wrong with that.” Kanzi’s father laughed. “I suspect that is the way of all younger sisters.”
“What if she never wakes up?” Mponyaji squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden heat of tears.
Kanzi’s father put one arm around Mponyaji’s shoulders. “I need you to give me the best chance to help. Will you trust me enough to tell me what caused your sister to fall asleep? Was it something related to the earthquake?”
It wasn’t exactly a secret. Kanzi’s father could find out what happened if he asked people in the village.
“It was —”
Amoa strode out of the jungle. His shield was strapped to his back, and his mambele hung from his belt next to the sjambok. “Nothing.” He folded his long, lean frame and joined them on the ground. The warrior’s eyes met Mponyaji’s, flicked to the spear in his lap, and back to his face. “Do you know what was here?”
Mponyaji knew what he thought had been there. Would they believe him? Would these men from so far away even know what the monster was? If they hadn’t heard of her, didn’t know what she did, what could they do? But so what if they laughed at him. They couldn’t make him feel more useless or helpless.
If there was even a chance they could help, he owed it to his parents and Shujaa to try. And Kanzi trusted them. Well, at least her father. Something in Mponyaji trusted her, so he’d trust them. He spoke before he could change his mind.
“It was the Obayifo.”
Amoa sat up straight. Kanzi’s father stared at Mponyaji in a cross between horror and shock. Lutin’s fur stood on end and he growled.
“I’ve heard stories about Obayifos.” Amoa uncoiled his whip and ran the length through his hands. ‘Did you see it?”
Mponyaji shook his head. “My father told me.” Then he couldn’t stop the words. The whole story tumbled from his lips, ending with Bibi’s revelation that once the Obayifo was just a girl.
“This Obayifo is fixated on your family.” Kanzi’s father ran his hand through his hair, making it stand up more. He stared off to one side, eyes unfocused, at nothing, as far as Mponyaji could see, and seemed to be listening. Papa often did that when he was healing.
Kanzi’s father returned his attention to Mponyaji. “With your permission. I would like to see if there is anything I can do for Shujaa.”
If there is anything I can do didn’t sound certain. Mponyaji made up his mind. “I know what to do,” he blurted. He’d have to leave. Bibi would watch Shujaa sleeping.
The sjambok uncoiled one loop and raised its head. Lutin hissed at the whip-turned-snake. The whip-turned-snake hissed right back. Who was this warrior? Where did he get that magical weapon?
Amoa soothed the snake with an unexpectedly gentle touch. “What is your plan?”
If Mponyaji answered that, they’d probably laugh this time. Even he had a hard time believing what he had to do. But he needed a weapon, and did it matter if they thought he was foolish? They’d leave in a few hours and Mponyaji would never see them again.
“My father told me I need to travel north through the great desert, then to the mountains in the east to look for the Nillekma.” His hand tightened around the broken spear.
They didn’t laugh. They nodded again, then Amoa tilted his head. “Maybe there’s something you can try a little closer to home before you travel so far. Something more in line with your nature.”
His nature? Amoa didn’t think Mponyaji could fight. How could these men know anything about him? “What does that mean?”
“What do you know about fairies?”
Mponyaji shrugged. “A little. There are black ones, red ones, and white ones. Papa said the white ones are cruel and like to to hurt and trick people. The black ones like to help, and the red ones are mischievous.”
Amoa nodded. “Good. Many people think they are frivolous creatures, but if you can find them, and one chooses to befriend you, they can teach you many things, including healing.”
“You know fairies?”
Amoa shrugged. “I’ve met a few. My father caught their Queen.”
“Why?”
“He traded her for stories.”
Mponyaji stiffened. “What?” He couldn’t mean his father was Anansi. But who else traded a fairy for stories?
“She was a powerful,” Amoa continued. “Didn’t like my father much, but she was nice to me and my brothers when we were boys.”
“You think a fairy could help me wake Shujaa?” Mponyaji’s voice rose. He couldn’t help getting his hopes up this time. This was something he hadn’t considered and surely was easier than crossing the Sahara alone.
Kanzi’s father nodded. “I think if anyone can help your sister, it’s a fairy. You’ll need a proper offering though. Wait here.”
The men rose to their feet and walked back toward the village.
Mponyaji jumped to his feet and paced in a circle. That response wasn’t exactly a reassuring yes the fairies could help, but he would take it. What the men said made sense. The Obayifo had hurt Shujaa with magic. It made sense he needed magic to fight magic.
All he had to do was find a fairy and convince her to help him. He could do it. He’d offer anything they wanted. Even to one of the mean white ones.
Kanzi’s father returned with a paper bag that crinkled as he held it out to Mponyaji. “It never hurts to offer something sweet to the fairies. Mandazis would probably work, but they’ve probably never had things like this before. Maybe something different will attract their attention faster.”
Mponyaji threw his arms around Kanzi’s father’s middle. “Thank you.”
He patted Mponyaj’s back. “You’ll still need to find a place the fairies might be. I don’t know the area well enough to suggest somewhere specific.”
Mponyaji did. “I know where to go.”

Mponyaji stood, hands on hips, and surveyed his trap. This had to be the place to catch a fairy. Upside down baobab trees provided shade. The pond held cool, sweet, fresh water. A breeze carried the scent of the bright rainbow-colored wild flowers. A flat rock provided the perfect surface for the offerings he’d arranged.
Anansi the Spider had caught the queen fairy by tricking her with sticky sap and mashed yams before he’d taken her to the Sky-God and traded her for stories. Mponyaji didn’t want to trick the fairies and risk making them angry. They had knowledge about magic and medicine, and he needed their help to save his sister.
Father gathered rare plants here. Mponyaji had snuck after him a few times and heard his father talking to no one Mponyaji could see, but sometimes whistles seemed to respond. He’d thought it was only birds, but maybe it hadn’t been birds at all.
The bag Kanzi’s father had given him contained a whole chocolate bar, some caramels, taffy, and a handful of colorful hard candies. He slid his fingers over the pack of gum Kanzi had given him. Of everything, this was what he wanted to keep the most. Watching Kanzi run away had felt like the world taking something else precious from him. He hoped the fairies came quickly so he could see Kanzi again. Who knew how long the strangers would stay in the village?
As much as he wanted to keep Kanzi’s gift for himself, though, he forced his fingers to open and place the packet of gum on the rock. He’d sacrifice everything he had to help Shujaa.
It had been so hard not to have a single square of chocolate! It smelled delicious even through the foil and paper wrappers. A fairy was sure to like one of these offerings. He rearranged the hard candies from a pile into a circle around everything and tried to walk away like he left candy on rocks all the time and was going home. It was cool today, so he had some time before the chocolate melted.
Fairies were small creatures. How far could they see? He ducked out of sight behind a big rock and looked down at the net he’d left there so the fairies wouldn’t see it next to the candy. Any fairy he caught with it would probably be mad. He could only hope the sweets could buy forgiveness.
Mponyaji peeked through the high grasses. How long was he supposed to wait? The chocolate might melt. Would a fairy still like it, or would it be ruined? He stared at the candy, determined not to miss the fairies when they showed up. When Father came here, he talked right away, so maybe the fairies lived here.
A long blade of grass tickled his cheek. He swiped it away. The grass stroked his other cheek. Mponyaji froze. The breeze couldn’t have changed directions that quickly. In fact, there wasn’t a breeze here. The air was still. He slid his eyes to the side. At the edge of his vision, a bit of red blurred.
A fairy wing! One of the red ones. A black one would have been better since they weren’t tricksters, but a white one would have been worse. Red ones were mischievous, but not mean. Mponyaji cautiously turned his head, making no sudden movements. The fairy hovered by his shoulder, letting him see her. She was tiny. No bigger than his hand, with a curved nose and bare backwards facing feet. Her clothes were much like his, simple pants and shirt, but hers were made out of flower petals rather than cloth. She studied him with round red eyes.
What should he do now? “Hello.”
A series of whistles answered him. The sounds evoked gentle breezes until the fairy eyed the net at his feet. When she looked back up, her eyes were a darker red and her whistles reminded him of thunderstorms. She knew he wanted to trap her! He half expected lightning to strike him from the clear blue sky.
“Uh. I…That… It’s not…” he stammered. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Mponyaji fidgeted his feet, hands rising in entreaty only to fall in case she thought that was aggression. He had to make this work.
“Please don’t go. I’m sorry. I’m not good at this like my Father. I promise I don’t want to hurt you. I need your help to heal my sister and I didn’t know how else to make sure you would listen.”
The fairy’s red glow dimmed from angry red and she flew closer. Her tiny hands patted his cheeks, eyes, forehead, and lips. The touches were feather-light and tickled like delicate butterfly feet walking over his skin. He closed his eyes and let her examine him. Sharp pain burst from the center of his face and his eyes popped open as he cupped one hand over his bleeding nose.
“Ouch!”
Whistles came at him in a scolding litany. The fairy was a blurry red figure through watering eyes, but the finger she jabbed toward his feet was emphatic. No. Not his feet. The net. Sudden comprehension dawned.
“That was for thinking about trapping you, wasn’t it? I suppose I deserved a punch to the nose for that.” His voice sounded nasal as he mumbled through pain, a pinched nose, and his palm. “I really don’t want to cause you any harm.”
Red fairies were mischievous, and maybe held grudges. He had to find some way to appease her. Mponyaji dropped to his knees and bowed his head. He wasn’t above begging. “Please. Shujaa is sick and I don’t know what else to do. Our parents are…” He cleared his throat. “Gone. We only have each other. I don’t want to be alone. Please help me.”
Butterfly touches on his eyelids encouraged him to open them and raise his head. The fairy was studying him again, arms crossed, foot tapping air. He resisted the urge to flinch as she darted at his face. Maybe she was going to punch him again. One small hand smacked his until he uncovered his nose, then relief flowed through him as the fairy healed the injury she’d inflicted. Apparently he was forgiven.
“Thank you.”
Wings blurring, the fairy rolled her eyes and flew toward the rock holding his candy offerings. This time, the whistles were a song he had to follow. Mponyaji stumbled to his feet and went after her.
She circled as she examined the treats on display, then swooped low to touch and sniff everything. She kept returning to the cherry gum, then the chocolate, then the hard candies like she couldn’t decide.
“You can have it all if you’ll help Shujaa.” Although, he could do nothing to stop her taking whatever she wanted and not helping at all. He flinched a little as she arrowed at his face, clenching his hands to stop himself covering his nose. Her whistles sounded like laughter as she kissed his nose and flew back to the candy. A relieved breath gusted out of him.
Finally giving in, she ripped open the packet of cherry gum, pulled out a piece half as big as her entire body, and folded it into her tiny mouth. She chewed determinedly, looking puzzled. Inquisitive whistles were muffled by the wad of gum.
Mponyaji laughed. “You can blow a bubble with it.” He pointed to the remnants of the packaging that used to show a picture of a girl with a bubble as big as her head.
The fairy studied the shredded paper and foil. Her eyebrows formed a vee and her wings blurred faster. After a few attempts, she managed a bubble that popped. She tried again. This time, red sparkles covered the gum, and a new bubble grew bigger than her body before it exploded with a burst of cherry-scented air. The fairy froze, the sticky red mess all over her.
Mponyaji wanted to laugh, but remembering the punch to his nose, didn’t move a muscle. What if that made her angry and she left? But after a few moments, she clapped her hands in delight as she spun in circles. When she stopped, she was clean, the chewed gum a pile in her hands. She stuffed it back into her mouth.
“You really like cherry gum.” Mponyaji let himself laugh to ease the sting of losing Kanzi’s gift. “That’s what I’m going to call you. Seeri.”
Her whistles response was garbled, but she didn’t seem to mind the nickname. It was easy to let Seeri’s antics distract him, but he had to remember why he was here. The fairy seemed happy with his offerings. It was time to ask.
“Do you think you can help my sister?”
Seeri seized one of his fingers in her tiny, sticky hands and pulled, arching her back and flapping her wings furiously with her efforts to move him.
“You want me to go with you? But…Shujaa is sick. I can’t leave while she’s ill.”
The fairy darted around his head, wings making a buzzing sound like angry bees. Seeri jabbed a finger repeatedly into the jungle. He held still. “You want me to go with you? But..Shujaa. I can’t leave her.” There was no time for fairy games. If she couldn’t, or wouldn’t help, he had to do what Father said.
Seeri blew a another bubble, this one bright red. She clapped her hands to pop it, sending dark red sparkles into his face. He inhaled reflexively. Dizziness made his head swim and he swayed on his feet. His body felt heavy, and he staggered a few steps.
“What…” The question seemed important, but he couldn’t quite understand why. There was a beautiful song. It was more important to follow that song than ask questions. The whistling notes called to him.
Still, something held him back. He couldn’t go. Why couldn’t he go?
Something popped, and the air smelled like cherries.
Mponyaji blinked. Tried to blink. His eyes wouldn’t open again. He felt his body falling, but he never hit the ground. All sounds except for that song vanished, and all he smelled was cherries. The world went away.