Moon Witch, Spider King (The Dark Star Trilogy #2)

“She mad?”

“Maybe, but she beckoning us.”

Popele was standing on Chipfalambula’s tongue. The griot look at me and say, “I can’t jump first, I have to witness and write about it.”

I don’t think. I just climb up the railing and as soon as I remember my bag, sack, and weapons, I jump. Bolom jump down right after me and almost roll into the water. The storm wind slam into the ship and whip it sideways again. The ship’s mast dip below the water. Chipfalambula close her mouth.



The griot continue.


The fish take us to the coast of Omororo, and the whole time Popele say nothing more than to look for a green witch who will give us room and board for the night, but we must set out at dawn. The fish almost beach herself, swimming right up to the rockier part of the shore at the south end of Weme Witu bay. From where we land, getting to the central city by foot would take us into nightfall. And even from where we was in the outskirt where most of the citizens lived, and even in near dusk, you could see the temple of the Sky God, which people rumor to be the tallest building in the world. And yet even higher was the monument to the God of Fertility and War, the stone arch half as wide the central city, with a massive pillar in the center looking like it was propping the whole thing up and ramming into the ground. The thrusting cock, that’s what everybody call it, the griot say and laugh.

Omororo look like seven people plan seven cities at once. At the shore was a village with people in loincloths when they wasn’t naked, people who don’t seem to know that one of the four brothers of the South empire was behind them. The kind of people who done fishing for the day so wasn’t present for when a gigantic fish swim herself to shore. Beyond the sea huts, from what I could see, was a settlement, one of four outside of the central city where most of the people live. Settlement as big as a city itself. Most of it was homes, taverns, inns, and temples, most of them one floor, several of them two, nearly all of them having some little smoke escaping into the morning. All of this I am watching from Chipfalambula’s mouth. Behind me, her throat and her belly, where I sleep for one night, which look like the inside of a hollow baobab tree, empty for now because according to Popele, it is another two moons before she feed. Follow the Cadanga Road, though it winding through the people’s district, until it take you between the father and son temples, and continue, though you will see the central city in all its magnificence, until the stone buildings get fewer and fewer, mud houses get more and more, until you come to a thick bush, with antelope and huts like bosoms. The Asakin tribe. You will know them by the splendid cows with horns as tall as you. Where pigeons circle, that is where he lives. When pigeons land, that is who he is, she say. Sending us out, she is meaning she will not follow. Popele already tire me with all her whimpering about dry earth sucking up too much of her, which make me think that for somebody divine born she don’t seem to have much to her if she is nothing but thinking water.

Bolom set out but he can’t go too far without me. I turn to go but swing around back quick and grab Popele’s neck.

“You want to tell me why Sangomin keep following me?” I ask.

“I don’t know the ways of the Sangoma.”

“You don’t seem to care either.”

“This mission can’t lose.”

“Mission. As if we doing holy work. This is the killing of Asakin boy. And you know what? I wrong. They not following me, for that would mean behind me, and they always ahead. Who else know about this?”

“Nobody who would be in league with Sangomin.”

“You know or you think? If is one thing I know about divine born is that none of you steadfast in anything. Maybe this is how one of you get his pleasure.”

“By laying out a plan only to sabotage it? Maybe more people know that the Aesi died by your hands than you think.”

“Then it would be a risk, using me. Which mean you would never approach me in the first place. No, somebody getting intelligence after I agree to go.”

“Sangomas share knowledge, mind to mind. You know that. Once you kill one . . .”

“But who tell that first one?”

I don’t wait for her to answer. For to tell true, I didn’t care for whatever she was going to say. Given how people always shouting to gods, nobody expect anything divine born to keep anything quiet, not even for their own good. But as I walk away, it swoop down on me that while I know my reason for doing this, I didn’t know hers. Yes, she talk all she can about divine this and that, but she didn’t come to me just to feed my revenge. Something about this Aesi is a threat to all like her, and for now my cause and hers align. I remember she mention divine right of kings which make me snort, but the more I hear from her, the more I know those words didn’t first come from her mouth. Speaking of mouth, the less she heard from mine, the less likely others hear it too. That mean skipping any road she sending us. Instead I tap the griot’s shoulder and dash down the first lane on the left, as if I catch on to somebody following me. Indeed, I stop once to look up for pigeons. As for this green witch, she could take a slimy fish and give herself a thousand fucks before I go to her door.