Chapter 23

Chinua could barely take his eyes off those beautiful seeds. Obiageri wondered what he would receive. Perhaps golden seeds or ones made of silver. But instead, the tree casually broke off a long branch from his limbs. “There, go crazy with this!” the tree said, dropping the long staff onto the ground.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Chinua cried in frustration, pointing at the branch, barely able to hide his disappointment. “You gave her glowing seeds.”

“Well, we all have our favorites, don’t we?” the tree quipped with a smirk, winking at Obiageri. “Seek out Taintalay, the juju blacksmith in Oha-Ndede. He can forge it into weapons for you both.”

“Where are these places you speak of?” Obiageri questioned, raising her arms in frustration. It would all be useless if those places were unreachable. She had never heard of them before; they sounded unfamiliar.

“Past Oji-ohia, through Nrọ, and then...” Onye Ohoo’s voice trailed off as tiny fairies fluttered around them. “Nanya and Oma will appear to guide you when the time comes.”

“Oji-ohia?” Obiageri’s voice cut through the air, sharp and trembling. Her hands fluttered, then clenched into tight fists. She turned her face away, shoulders slumping as she took in a shuddering breath.

Oji-Ohia was the fabled Black Forest, a place spoken of in moonlit tales. She had wondered if it was real or just a terrifying story to scare children. Now she had her answer. She would have to go through that cursed place, and to make matters worse, she would have to guide Chinua every step of the way. It seemed an impossible task.

Chinua gulped. “Wait—what’s wrong with Oji-ohia?” His pulse quickened as he looked between Obiageri and Onye Ohoo, searching their faces for some clue. Obiageri barely had the courage to tell him. It would only destroy the bravery he had gathered for this journey. Maybe it was better to leave him in the dark and weather the storm blindly.

Onye Ohoo hesitated, his voice quivering as he finally spoke. “It was once a sacred forest,” he said, his words drawn out like a prayer. “But now... it’s been lost to dark magic.” He stopped, his steps stirring the red dust beneath. “It’s a place where evil trees lay bound—a sanctuary for darkness itself.” His branches tightened. “The castaways are always hungry for souls—no one who enters ever leaves the same.”

“I’m sure your soul won’t be sucked away...” the tree added casually, causing Chinua to gasp in horror. Onye Ohoo’s steps grew heavier, his branches shaking in the wind as he turned away.

Obiageri watched the tree take a few steps, then called out, her voice rising into the air. “Do you believe we can defeat the false god?”

She squared her shoulders and waited in silence, for an answer that would either shatter her hopes or strengthen her resolve. She knew the tree was many things, but not a liar.

“Only with those weapons,” the tree replied over his shoulder. His bark creaked as he twisted his face. “And if you return whole, I will train you to become Dibias. Then, and only then, you’ll have a chance.”