Shadow Speaker, page 23
“Goddamn,” was all Dikéogu could say.
“Yeah,” Ejii said.
She showed him the large dent the compacted seed had made in her silver amulet and the welt the impact had left on the skin underneath.
“Goddamn,” Dikéogu said again.
They lay down where they were and soon fell asleep. Two hours later, Mama Nyambe shook them both awake. “Time to bathe and get dressed for the big meeting.”
“We’re still going?” Ejii said groggily. “Even after what happened?”
“Of course. The chief even sent a messenger to make sure you’re on time.”
“So he tries to have Jaa killed and then turns around and expects her to show up for the meeting he planned, in his palace?” Dikéogu asked, wiping his face with his hand.
“He denies having anything to do with it,” Mama Nyambe said. “He’s a two-faced monster. But this meeting must succeed. So you two, get up.”
A half hour later, Ejii stood in a heavy dress made entirely of tiny red beads. Mama Nyambe had bought it yesterday and it fit perfectly. “It’s from the Southwest, obviously,” Mama Nyambe said. “I knew it was perfect for you the moment I saw it.” Ejii was glad the dress weighed so much; it felt like a strong hand grasping her. Dikéogu wore a long red caftan that reached his ankles and matching pants. There were mirrors sewn into the pant cuffs. Mama Nyambe said his outfit was from the North.
Outside, Ejii could hear a crowd, and it made her nervous, especially after last night. The cactus fence must have kept everyone out. She peeked from her room, where she had a good view. There were two large glow lilies set up to give them light. The crowd of about two hundred people had been demonstrating for a half hour—at least, that was when she’d started to hear them. She saw people wearing beaded clothes like hers, outfits with mirrors, people who had vines around their wrists, chubby people wearing white. All of them were lively, despite the early morning. Ejii could see journalists running about questioning and recording.
“Save us, o!” someone shouted.
“Why should we trust you or the rest of them?! You aren’t from here!”
“We won’t accept Earth’s witchcraft!”
“War to the wastelands!”
“Red One, I love you!”
“Don’t let Chief Ette control you!”
“War! WAR!”
The shouting grew louder the moment they came into the view of the crowd. The flat, dark purple car pulled up close to the cactus gate so that the crowd could only shout and watch on the other side. The chief had insisted on them being driven in the plush car to the palace, which irritated Ejii.
“I hope he hasn’t rigged it to blow up when we get in,” Dikéogu said.
Ejii couldn’t have agreed with him more. Still, she had to admit that she understood the chief a little. If Jaa’s envoy had done what it did, any good leader would have reacted the way the chief had. A leader’s primary concern was for his or her people.
The volatile crowd put Ejii on alert, but her attention shifted when she got inside the car. She’d never been inside one before. Gambo was the last to get in. He’d thrust his fist into the air, causing the crowd to burst into applause or curses depending on what they thought of him. Ejii noted that at least a third of the crowd cursed him.
“They worry me,” Jaa said. The scratches on her face looked better, thanks to Jory’s skills.
“Everything worries me right now,” Gambo replied.
The long, flat car was also dark purple on the inside, and everything was very soft. “I always imagined the insides of cars to have more space,” Ejii said.
“You’ve never been in one before?” Dikéogu asked. Ejii shook her head. “Then switch with me,” he said, climbing over her so that she could sit near the narrow window. “The first time I was in a car when I was small, I threw up! The motion’s going to feel funny to you.”
“Close your eyes if you get dizzy,” Jaa said.
“Here’s some gum,” Buji said. Ejii popped it in her mouth. It was hot and minty.
“You’ll be fine,” Gambo said.
Ejii and Dikéogu were in the middle and Jaa, Gambo, and Buji in the back. The ceiling was purple-tinted glass and the seats were so reclined that Ejii was almost lying flat. The minute she was settled in, a purple cloth belt wrapped itself around her waist and crossed itself over her chest. Tiny puffs of flowery-smelling mist came from near the windows and filled the car. Ejii immediately felt like sliding down her seat and, despite her serious mood, giggling. The driver looked in his rearview mirror.
“Welcome,” he said. Then they were off.
“Whoooooo!” Ejii couldn’t help shouting. It was as exhilarating as flying with Sunrise, except it felt more dangerous because they were zipping about on the ground. She didn’t get sick or dizzy, but she did giggle a lot. Because of the car’s speed, it was hard to take notice of the city that flew by. Minutes later, when they arrived at the Ooni Palace, they encountered more demonstrators.
“This is even bigger than before,” Buji said, looking out the window.
“Well, look what’s at stake,” Jaa said.
The car slowly drove through an opening in the gate of vegetation surrounding the southern part of the palace. They were dropped off in front of two very high purple doors. Ejii got out, still tickling from the car ride. She looked up. Now she felt dizzy. The Ooni Palace was so huge. She could see the Ogoni ants hard at work, disappearing and reappearing in the thin clouds that hovered at the very top of the palace.
“Allah is the true architect,” she whispered, her legs shaky.
Dikéogu actually stumbled as he looked up. “Is it falling? It looks like it’s falling!” he said, stepping back, shielding his eyes with his hand.
“No, no,” Buji said. He was wearing white silky pants and a shirt with a vine belt. “It only looks that way because of its height. Relax. The palace has been standing for thousands of years.”
Gambo looked intimidating dressed in his New Tuareg–style indigo turban veil and flowing garb. Jaa wore a long red dress with a billowing indigo cape attached to her shoulders that matched Gambo’s attire. She also wore vines around her wrists as Buji did.
“Buck up,” Jaa said, looking sternly at Dikéogu. “From this moment on, you two are dignified adults. This is the crossroads of all our fates.”
Ejii and Dikéogu nodded.
“You aren’t to speak unless spoken to,” she said. “You have met some of the masters, yes, but this is a formal meeting. Not all of them are human and some are volatile. Diversity makes for a fair, productive meeting.”
The large purple doors were guarded by four soldiers, each wearing striped red and purple skirts that ended just above the knee, showing brawny legs with gold bracelets around the ankles. They wore no sandals. Their outfits would have made Ejii laugh if she weren’t so nervous and the soldiers weren’t carrying large, greasy-looking black swords. Next to one of them stood a black furry creature with five stick-like brown legs and a long equally stick-like brown snout. Standing about four feet high, it looked more weird than scary.
“Sunny day,” one of the soldiers said. The others just looked at them. The furry creature sneezed and shook itself out. Ejii glanced at Dikéogu, who looked disgusted by the creature.
“We are Jaa, Gambo, and Buji,” Gambo said.
“And these two?” the soldier said, nodding a head toward Ejii and Dikéogu.
“Our apprentices, Dikéogu and Ejii,” Gambo said. “They go where we go.”
“Step forward, Dikéogu and Ejii,” the soldier said. He clucked at the furry creature, which immediately scrambled forth, its long legs shuffling with an intricate, spider-like swiftness. “Don’t run from the phoonsniffle,” the soldier said to them. “Stand still and it won’t harm you.” Ejii and Dikéogu froze as the creature slapped them around with its thin hard snout. It was sniffing as it slapped. With one last slap on the side of Dikéogu’s face, it scrambled back to the soldiers and sneezed loudly.
“Swear to the one or ones that you worship that you come here for the Golden Dawn Meeting and to make the day sunnier,” the head soldier asked all five of them.
“We swear,” they all said.
“Welcome to the Ooni Palace. We hope that the meeting bears fruit, for the sake of all of us.”
Once they stepped into the hallway, the large door shut behind them. Inside the Ooni Palace, the air was warm, humid, and smelled woody. Though the hallways were wide and long, no sound echoed.
As they walked, Ejii’s eyes migrated to the carpeting. The patterns were infinite symmetric swirling designs of every shade of purple. So much purple. Even the large glow lilies on the walls gave off a lavender light. A few times, Ejii saw purple scarab beetles and periwinkle geckos walking up the walls or hiding in corners. As they walked, every so often they passed closed doors with soldiers standing in front of them.
Jaa looked straight ahead. “The chief of the Ooni Kingdom, Pilfenkwo Ette VIII will soon meet us,” Jaa said quietly. “Neither of you will like him, and not only because of what he did last night. But be respectful. Do not bring up last night. Dikéogu, if you are Ejii’s friend, keep your mouth shut. And however you see me behave here, know it is for politics only. A means to an end. Now, get behind us.”
Dikéogu and Ejii worriedly looked at each other as they moved close behind them.
“He sounds like a monster,” Dikéogu whispered.
“He’s just a man,” Ejii said.
No sooner had she spoken than they heard a bellowing laugh come from down the hallway. Wall geckos scampered into shadows and scarab beetles flew to the safety of the ceiling. Then eight soldiers wearing short-skirted uniforms marched around the corner. These soldiers looked as if they were having a great time. Though they maintained their stiff march in unison, they had smiles on their faces and several of them were laughing.
They lined up on both sides of the hall, their smiles still present. Behind them came ten women and girls, some Ejii’s age, some younger and some closer to her mother’s age. They all wore long but tight-fitting purple dresses and sandals. Their nails were painted purple and they wore purple lip balm and eyelid shading and had necklaces that glowed purple. The chief’s wives. None of them were laughing. What miserable-looking women, Ejii thought.
They sat at the feet of the soldiers, still looking sad. Ejii recognized one of the wives as the woman she’d seen yesterday sitting at the palace window crying. Then she saw Chief Pilfenkwo Ette VIII. He was extremely fat. So fat that he apparently wasn’t able to walk. He sat on a motorized purple throne with wheels. The throne was made of some sort of tree, the roots snaking and weaving into a knot above the vehicle’s tires. It shed leaves as it came to a stop.
“Sunny day,” he said in a robust voice. “Welcome! I’m glad you could make it.”
His attitude broadcasted excess and greed. He carried a large glass of what looked like palm wine. But it wasn’t just his obvious excess. There was something else that Ejii didn’t like about this man. Something more sinister. His attire was complex, an outfit that was probably centuries old. Gold metal straps stretched from his ears over his portly cheeks to hold a large round disk of gold over his nose. It had tiny holes in it so he could breathe. His ample flesh was squeezed into a leather suit; even his feet and hands were encased in leather. He must sweat so much, Ejii thought.
The suit was embroidered from neck to toe with white cowry shells and tiny mirrors that clicked with his every movement. The nails of his costume’s feet and hands were smooth shells. Whoever made the suit loved detail. On his head was a crown of long black feathers. Though the costume was obviously made to accommodate his heft, he looked uncomfortable and he was breathing heavily. On his lap was an equally ornamented tusk of some great beast.
“Sunny day, Chief Pilfenkwo Ette the VIII,” Buji said, stepping forward and kneeling. Gambo and Jaa did the same. Then Buji and Gambo gave the chief an elaborate handshake. Jaa stayed back, wordlessly, still kneeling. Ejii didn’t like that.
“It’s good to see you,” Chief Ette said. “How was your journey?”
“Mostly eventless,” Buji said.
“Ah, one day I would like to see this Earth you all live on,” the chief said.
“I’m sure it can be arranged,” Buji said.
The chief glanced at the still-kneeling Jaa. “Seems you and Gambo have been nicely disciplining your wife.” He chuckled. “The scratches on her face become her.”
“We never lay an angry hand on her, Chief Ette,” Gambo said. “Jaa met with a few unkind Ooni folk. But she handled them nicely.”
“Ah, well, I must apologize for my people. They’re so high strung these days.” He smirked. “Why is it that you have no children? This woman seems very . . . able.”
“It’s not the time, Chief Ette,” Buji said.
The chief nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. “Yes, we are in strange times, o,” Chief Ette said. He looked at Ejii and Dikéogu. Ejii felt her blood pressure rising. Oh, she did not like this man at all.
“These must be the apprentices,” Chief Ette said. He motioned them to come closer. As they stepped forward, Jaa whispered to her. “Kneel.” Ejii lightly elbowed Dikéogu. He nodded and they both knelt before the chief. Up close, he smelled strongly of sweat and leather and perfumed oils.
“A rain boy and mau girl,” he said. “It seems this one’s mau abilities are wasted, with her being a girl.” He laughed. Ejii looked at the ground, her eyes shut, holding back a rage much stronger than what had launched her at her cousin Fadio back home. She now knew what it was she disliked about this man. He reminded her of her father.
“But she does have a pretty face, even with the eyes,” he said. “Up, boy.”
Dikéogu stood.
“Ah yes, a true rainmaker, bold and loyal,” he said. “What is it you think you’ll gain from attending the Golden Dawn?”
Let Dikéogu talk and ignore me? Ejii thought angrily. The way her father did with her and Fadio. Maybe I can learn something of his plans for today, she thought. While she had the chance, she looked into the things the chief of Ooni carried.
Purple. Always purple. He was one of over thirty children. His father had many wives. Little Ette VIII never liked this. He was the eighth son, but his father had especially liked his mother and thus gave Ette extra attention. Still, he’d never liked this, either. He preferred to be alone so he could eat. He would hide in the pantry and eat sweetmeats and honey until his belly ached. His mother had only been twelve years old when she gave birth to him, but she loved him dearly. She especially loved how he loved her when she gave him food. His father eventually was murdered in a coup d’etat when Ette was ten. And little Ette witnessed it. Never had he felt so helpless and sad as when his father fell to the ground, his throat slashed. So much blood.
Ejii worked hard to hold herself from the abyss of the chief’s sorrow. Ette’s oldest brother was the murderer. This same brother who often spat at Ette, one day saying that Ette was just an eighth son and did not deserve his father’s attention. And when his brother became chief, he decided that Ette should only be allowed bread, water, and vegetables. Food for a peasant. A life fit for a peasant. So Ette chose revenge. When he was eighteen and strong and lean, he murdered his murderous brother. And became chief. He imagined that all of Ginen cheered his actions. That every plant bowed. Eighth son indeed, he thought. I am chief! And he started eating again . . .
Dikéogu suddenly started cursing at the chief, forcing her to pull back.
“I won’t hold your stupidity against you, because you’re young,” Chief Ette said. “Normally, I’d have had your head and hands. Maybe that will come to pass in a few years.” He laughed. Dikéogu looked livid and Buji and Gambo were standing protectively beside him.
“Women, get up,” Chief Ette said. He swooped his hands dramatically in the air, his leather costume creaking. “We all have a meeting to attend!”
Ejii slowly stood up. Though Ette’s childhood was sad and he was full of resentment and insecurity, she still despised him. He was the type of man who had to bring others down to lift himself up, and he was a lot to lift. He was the type of man who used true facts, like the fact that Earth cars poisoned Ginen land, to mask his own cruel plans. Ejii understood why Jaa wanted to kill him. He was capable of doing harm that extended far beyond himself.
Ette and his wives and soldiers went one way down the hall, while two soldiers led Ejii and the others to an elevator in the opposite direction. It was nothing like the elevator at the Yellow Lady. This one was part of the plant tower’s flesh. All parts of it were made of a strong, smooth, waxy but clear material. It was flat on the bottom but domelike on the top, where a light green plant with spirally leaves grew. A chameleon clung to one of the leaves, looking down at them. Jaa pulled Ejii and Dikéogu close.
“This plant is thousands of years old. It won’t drop us,” she said.
Slowly, Ejii reached for Dikéogu’s hands and his fingers locked around hers. The stocky soldier with very muscular arms tilted his head back. He opened his mouth wide and loudly breathed, “Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.” The plant began lifting immediately but smoothly. And very very fast. Ejii’s stomach went to her feet and she grasped Dikéogu’s hand more tightly. The ground shot away from them and suddenly they were in the predawn sky, the city of Ile-Ife growing smaller and smaller. Then she could see beyond the city, to the outer parts of the Ooni Kingdom where all was forest and jungle.
“Allah is many,” Ejii whispered, fighting to keep her eyes open.
They seemed to rise forever. After a while Ejii’s body grew a little accustomed to the sensation. Then the elevator stopped and the clear doors opened. They were at the top floor. For a moment, Ejii was lightheaded. The air was a little different here. She took a deep breath and felt as if she couldn’t quite fill her lungs. She took another deep breath and her head cleared.
