Chapter 17

The air outside was cool and fresh, the orange sun peering out from behind white clouds in the sky. It would have been a beautiful morning if not for the distant chuckle echoing through the trees—it had to be the hyenas. Were they close? Obiageri would rather not find out. She had to get out of there quickly.

At the edge of the deck, Obiageri spotted a coarse, strong vine. “This way!” she growled sharply to Chinua, her voice slightly raised. She gripped the vine tightly and began to climb down, her muscles straining as she landed softly on the damp, grassy forest floor. The sound of rustling leaves filled the air, while the towering trees above shielded the ground from the sun's early rays.

When Chinua’s feet finally touched the earth beside her, Obiageri looked up, waiting for the gorilla to lead the way. But when he was nowhere to be found, she thought about calling him out, before catching a glimpse of Opara the mild’s face peering out from the deck above.

“Go along now! I’ll try to stall them,” the gorilla called down, his nose wrinkling.

“Gini? Go where?!” she ranted, the jeering laughter from the hyenas intensifying.

“You both go south—don’t stop running!” the gorilla retorted, and before she could respond, his face vanished from view.

Obiageri’s forehead creased as she stared at Chinua, who was bent down, fiddling with his shoe. When he stood up, he had a puzzled look on his face. He scratched his head, shrugged his shoulders, and his eyes darted from side to side.

“South is that way!” she tittered, pointing.

 Chinua had a blank stare on his face, then tilted his head and stammered. “I... I would have gotten it...” Obiageri scoffed.

When Obiageri ran, Chinua followed closely behind. The tall grass beneath her feet was moist with morning dew. It squished as they ran past a path hidden by lush green branches. The wind was heavy and thick, sticking at her throat like smoke. Sweat clung to her dark skin in sticky patches, streaming down her neck and arms. Every breath was like a struggle, the air offering no solace as it barely reached her lungs. Heat sapped the oxygen around her, and her tongue starved for moisture.

Obiageri’s thoughts spiraled. What a mess this had turned out to be. She had never been kicked out of anywhere this early in the morning. Her chest heaved, like a storm swirling inside her that she couldn’t contain. She thought of her village, of the days she spent there, carefree in the arms of her mother’s love. Her lips trembled, her fists clenched, and she tried to hold back tears. That was before she’d become a vagabond, chasing impossible dreams across unfamiliar lands. The girl she had been then seemed a stranger now.

She longed for the safety of the familiar paths, for the songs of the elders by the fire, the feeling of belonging. But those days had long passed. The world was different now, and so was she. Why did she miss her home so much? Was this what being an adventurer was all about?

Her lungs begged for air, and her muscles ached. She stopped in her tracks, bent over, panting, while staring at the brown dirt beneath her feet.

Glancing upward, she noticed the once vibrant blue sky was now dimmed by an unseen hand. A wicked tremor slithered down her body. Something was happening! How could it have gotten dark so quickly? It was barely morning. Was she missing something here?

Obiageri narrowed her eyes, staring past the clouds and the blue hue of the sky. She gasped loudly. Why hadn’t she noticed them sooner? Above, a swirling mass of black birds blocked the sunlight, their flitting shadows dappled on the ground like malevolent spirits. Their manic screeches echoed in Obiageri’s ears as they drew closer, droning with hate, each cry a spike of raw terror.

She patted Chinua’s shoulder. He stood panting next to her. “Look up! We’re being followed!” she huffed, staring at the ominous dark cloud above.

Chinua’s head snapped toward the sky, his eyes widening. “What in the world? Why won’t they just leave us alone?” he hissed, nearly skipping in fright.

“Tufiakwa! I bet they’re working for that evil king!” she grumbled, looking around for cover.

Now she could see them clearly—crows, dozens of them, diving straight for them with sharp talons aimed like daggers. “Ngwa-ngwa, we’ve got to hide!” Obiageri whined, yanking Chinua under the bare shelter of a nearby tree deep in the forest.

Obiageri clenched her teeth as she crouched beneath the tree, breathing heavily, her eyes darting from side to side. Time seemed to stretch as the crows' screeches filled her ears. “Come on, Obiageri, think,” she whispered under her breath.

Obiageri’s mind raced for an escape. If those birds caught up, they would tear her limb from limb. She nervously traced the beads around her waist, desperation clouding her thoughts. What would her mother do? Pray to the gods? Was there another way?

A thought flashed in her mind. “Chinua, how did we even end up here? Do you remember?”

Chinua scratched his head, sweat dripping from his forehead in small beads. “Uh, there was a tree… a ram, maybe? Then hyenas… and running? Yeah, lots of running,” he muttered under his breath, gripping a tree branch like a weapon.

“Mba!” Obiageri groaned, shaking her head. The screeching almost drove her mad. “That’s not what I’m talking about!”   

“Then spit it out! We don’t exactly have all day,” Chinua shot back with a nervous laugh. 

“Chere! Don’t rush me—I’m getting there.” She sputtered, tapping her thighs before turning to face him. “When Ikenga brought me here, I think he used a tree to do it.” 

“And your point is…?” Chinua faltered, his eyes narrowing.

“Look around you, Chinua! There are trees everywhere,” she countered, throwing her hands up.

Chinua blinked, glancing at the trees. “Yeah, I see that. But unless you’re planning to sprout horns and become a magic ram, I don’t—”