Akata Witch (18 page)

“No, I’m not,” Sunny said. She froze, mortified by her rudeness.

“Can you not turn yourself into something like warm vapor? You’re a type of shape-shifter. I can become a snake,” she said, making her hand move in an S motion. “My ability is a physical manifestation. Yours is spiritual. The reason you can become vapor is
because
you can step into the spirit world, literally. I doubt you’ve done this yet. You’d know it if you had.”

“How do I—”

“Only when you want to,” she said. “To enter the spirit world completely, you have to die. So for you to do it, you have to die a little.” She paused and looked at Sunny. “Would you like to learn?”

“I . . . don’t know,” she said uneasily. “Not really.” Who would want to learn how to die?

They passed a group of students who cautiously greeted Sugar Cream. “The students you see here are the most advanced,” she said. “All who make it here will most likely pass
Ndibu
, the third level; most likely none will pass
Oku Akama
, the highest level. It’s been years since anyone has.”

They passed some tall shelves and piles of books. “How does the library keep track of all the books?” Sunny asked. “A lot of them seem . . .” she trailed off. She wanted to say, “thrown about.”

Sugar Cream laughed. “Don’t be fooled. All books here are accounted for. They’re marked. When they need to be found, they will be.”

“How?”

“Depends on who wants to find it,” she said. They went back to her office, where she sat on the arm of her bronze chair. Sunny remained standing. “Anatov was going to send you here in two weeks. I was going to decide whether or not I would mentor you. Now that you’ve behaved so stupidly, my decision is harder. I need to think about it.”

Sunny’s heart sank. It didn’t matter that she had avoided being whipped or thrown in the library basement; Chichi, Orlu, and even Sasha—who never missed a chance to make trouble—had mentors. For them it had been so simple and obvious. Her path to anything seemed to always be difficult. And she hated how everyone was acting as if she should know the rules so well. It was ridiculous. Couldn’t Sugar Cream cut her some slack?

“
You
chose to do what you did,” Sugar Cream said. “So don’t stand there angry at
me
. For me to mentor you would be a great honor, an honor reserved for a
mature
girl or boy. You’d be the one and only student I mentor. Your case is complicated.” She sighed. “But you most certainly should be involved in this. I have no doubt about that.”

“How are you so sure?” she asked. Inside she was crying. “I mean, you see how I am, what I did, and you’re rethinking wanting to mentor me. How are you so sure I should even be part of this
Oha
coven group thing?”

Sugar Cream shook her head, a sad look on her face. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask.”

Sunny waited for her to go on. “Listen. It was your grandmother, Ozoemena, who taught Otokoto all he knows. She was
his
mentor. And it was Otokoto who killed your grandmother in a ritual to steal her abilities as he stole her life. You want to know why he is so powerful? All you need to look at is who your grandmother
was
and who Otokoto was before he became the infamous Black Hat.”

Sunny had no words.

“Yes,” she said. “So you see why this is complicated.”

Soon after that, Sugar Cream sent Sunny home. Sunny remembered saying good-bye and feeling even more like a criminal. She’d walked down the stairs and felt like a criminal. And she got into the council car, feeling like a criminal. She felt unworthy, childish, stupid, and worthless. On top of all this, she was the granddaughter of the scholar who taught a murderous psychopath. Her guilt tired her out so much that she slept the entire drive home.

She spent much of that evening in her room, staring off into space, thinking and thinking about all Sugar Cream told her. She still had homework to do. By eleven P.M., she’d fallen asleep on her books.

Sunny heard knocking. She thought she was dreaming. When it didn’t stop, she swam up to wakefulness and groggily opened her eyes. Aside from her reading lamp, her room was dark. Then she saw a tiny light at the window. She froze, her brain for some reason going all the way back to when she was two and burning up from malaria.
The light watched over me
.

She blinked, fully waking up. It was the light of a firefly. She slowly opened the window. Sasha, Orlu, and Chichi stood below. “Come down,” Orlu whispered loudly. “Meet us outside the gate.”

She quickly dressed, then made herself invisible and swooped out of the window. When she emerged from the gate, Chichi threw her arms around her. “You’re all right!” she said happily. “I heard you beat the hell out of Jibaku.”

“You okay?” Sasha asked.

“Yeah,” Sunny said.

“We were worried,” Orlu said.

“You didn’t sound like it when they took me away,” Sunny said, annoyed.

“Why’d you have to do it?” Orlu said. “You should—”

“Who cares?” she said. “And you know why, anyway. You of all people.”

“I was about to fight Jibaku’s boyfriend,” Orlu said. “He’s three years older than me and bigger. But I still wouldn’t have done what you did!”

She sighed loudly, rolling her eyes.

“I had to see the council once, too,” Sasha said, putting his arm around Sunny. “Back when I set that masquerade on those guys harassing my sister.” He paused. “I was caned twenty times and then
ordered
to be sent here.”

“You were actually
caned
?” Chichi asked, looking shocked.

“I have the scars to show for it,” Sasha said coldly. He met Orlu’s eyes and then turned to Sunny. “I never expected you to get in my kind of trouble.”

“I just lost it, I guess.”

“So what happened?” Chichi asked.

After she told them everything, including the part about her grandmother, they were all quiet. Then Chichi said, “Your grandmother would have been the one to bring you in, if she’d have lived.”

“He must have eaten some of her flesh,” Sasha said. “That’s the only—”

Chichi angrily shushed him. “She doesn’t need to know that.”

Sunny felt ill. Chichi pushed Sasha away and put her arm around Sunny’s shoulder.

“Sunny, try to find out more about your grandmother,” Orlu said. “If they know about your grandmother’s abilities, then we’ll know that much more about Black Hat.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly.

“Sugar Cream is tough,” Orlu said.

“I know,” she said.

“If she doesn’t come around, I’m sure Anatov will find someone else to mentor you,” Chichi said.

This was not a consolation. She wanted Sugar Cream.

But she did feel better. Her grandmother was no criminal. She’d only been the teacher of a student gone bad. Still, by the time she was back in her room, she wanted to cry again. She couldn’t get Black Hat out of her head. As she went to turn off the light, she saw the red ghost hopper standing on the post of her bed.

“You just
have
to sit yourself there, don’t you?” she said. It just looked at her with its huge compound orange eyes. She turned off the light. As she closed her eyes, she heard a soft, wavery singing, like a tiny dove who was using its voice to more than coo. It was lovely.

“You could do a lot worse than a ghost hopper. Some people would love to have those,” Orlu had said. Now Sunny understood why. She settled down and let it sing her to sleep.

11

Lessons

“You’re lucky your back isn’t stinging,” Anatov said. “Sugar Cream has the flogging done by a very muscular lad.” He stood up and strolled around them with his hands behind his back. “This changes things some. If it weren’t for Sunny’s recklessness, I’d have sent y’all to meet Sugar Cream and get a tour of the Obi Library—not including the fourth floor, of course.”

Sunny was relieved when no one seemed angry.

“Today will be short,” he said. “I’ll lecture on some important jujus. Then you can try a few of the advanced ones.” He sat down and flicked his long beard over his shoulder. “Healing juju is tricky. Do it wrong and you worsen the ailment. First you find the cause. Let’s say that a man has a boil on his
nyash
.”

Orlu, Chichi, and Sunny snickered. Sasha only frowned.

“You don’t know what
nyash
means, do you?” Anatov asked Sasha. “Come now. Of all words.”

“It’s ‘ass,’ in Pidgin English,” Chichi said, still laughing.

Sasha humphed and looked away.

“Work harder on your Pidgin English
and
your Igbo,” Anatov told Sasha. “You don’t even know any general curse words yet? Pathetic.”

“I’m working as hard as I can,” Sasha replied in perfect Igbo. He even managed to hide his American accent. Sunny had to admit, she was impressed.

“Work harder,” Anatov replied in English. “So, back to the
nyash
. I am a man with a boil on my
nyash.
I want it gone before my wife sees it. What do I do?”

“Squeeze it,” Sasha said. They all burst out laughing.

“That would leave a sore that could get infected,” Anatov said, remaining serious. “Such a simple problem and not one of you can tell me how to quickly cure it?”

“You’ll have to make a strong medicine,” Chichi said.

“Yes, but a strong medicine can take all night,” Anatov said. After a moment, he said, “Open your books to page one hundred eighteen.”

The chapter was titled “Reknitting: Fast Healing by Hand.” Anatov read the second paragraph aloud: “There is only one way to swiftly heal the body. You must undo and then reknit the cells. Those who excel at this must have fast hands and superb spatial skills. Males possess this skill in greater quantities than females. With young people, simply look to their ability to play video games for your answer.”

Anatov looked up from his book. “I want you all to look at yourselves and locate an ailment. Could be a cut, a scratch, bruise, or pimple.”

Sunny still had plenty of bruises and scratches from her fight with Jibaku.

Anatov held up a small vial containing a light blue substance. “You’re to go to Leopard Knocks on your own time and buy some of this,” he said. “It’s called Healing Hands powder. Come and take a pinch. You should have this with you at all times—just in case.”

The powder was hot between Sunny’s fingers, but not unpleasantly so.

“If you hold it long enough, the part of your skin that is touching it will develop a cancer,” Anatov said.

They all froze. “What!” cried Sasha.

“Patience,” Anatov firmly said. “I know this might be hard, knowing what you know, but you need to stand still enough to hear your heartbeat. If you don’t, it won’t work.” He waited.

“Close your eyes,” he said. “The blood your heart pumps nourishes every part of you, including the part you wish to heal. Imagine sailing through your veins to that ailing place. You see it? Now imagine that you’re bringing that part of you forward. It detaches and now floats before you. See it rotate so you can look at it from all angles.”

Sunny imagined the dark purple black bruise on her bicep where Jibaku had punched her, the bruise she wished would go away before her mother saw it. She imagined the flesh under her skin, full of burst blood vessels.

“Keep your eyes closed,” Anatov said. “Now, quickly, blow the powder at what you see!”

She held her fingers to her lips and blew. Immediately her bicep felt as if it had caught fire. She screeched, grabbing her arm.

“Looks like we have a result,” Anatov said, smiling wide.

Sunny’s arm gradually began to feel better. She looked at it and laughed. “It’s gone!”

“Yours worked?” Chichi asked, surprised. “Nothing happened to the rash on my ankle.”

“Nothing happened to my scratch, either,” Sasha said.

Sunny smirked, feeling even more satisfied with herself.

“You didn’t visualize well enough,” Anatov said. “Orlu? What of you?”

“Yeah, the scrape I had on my leg is gone,” he said. “But I didn’t feel any pain, like Sunny did.”

“You have more control,” Anatov said, placing a hand on Orlu’s head. Then he placed a hand on Sunny’s. “You, Sunny, have more power. Sasha, Chichi, you need more practice. I’m not surprised you couldn’t get it to work at all. All of you, go scrub your hands of every trace of the powder.”

The next two hours were tough. Sunny could barely keep up, even when he discussed things from the juju knife book. And because she had no juju knife, she was forced to shadow everyone else’s motions, which felt silly. She soon went from feeling powerful to pathetic. It was more than clear that Orlu, Chichi, and Sasha had years on her, had
upbringing
on her. They were so natural as Leopard folk, whereas she was stumbling around in the dark.

When they were finished, Anatov made an announcement. “Next Saturday, we go to Abuja. We go for two reasons. First, Sunny will pick out her juju knife.”

“We’re going to see Junk Man!” Chichi exclaimed.

“Second, I’m taking you all to the Zuma Festival to see your first Zuma National Wrestling Match finals. I need to be at an important meeting of scholars, so this trip will kill multiple birds with one stone.”

Sasha looked delighted, and for once, Orlu’s reaction matched his. “I’ve
always
wanted to see the finals,” Orlu said. “I hope no one’s killed, though.”

“Yes, it’s often a fight to the death,” Anatov said with a mysterious smile.