Chapter 7 ~ The Masamba

We arrived back at the city and then parted ways. Yohance and Jetta took the twins home while Joel and I went to locate our dad. We found him alone, reading parchments in the back room of the temple.

          “Are you finding anything interesting?” I queried as we sat across the stone table from him. He leaned back, stretched, and then rubbed his eyes.

          “A little. The Harun tend to be dry and long-winded, so it takes time to sift through and find pertinent information. One history or legend is that the first Creator, Obasi, created Fahdamin-Ra and all its inhabitants. He moved back and forth between our world and here by use of the stone.” Dad shook his head. “It sounds like a fairy tale, except here we are.”

          “How did he create this world?” asked Joel.

          “In this account, he didn’t. This world was already here. It goes into great detail - and I mean a lot - about how he formed the Harun from the rock of these mountains, the Masamba from the wood of the trees, and the Jabulani from the clay of the riverbank. That is as far as I got.”

          “He made people out of rocks and stuff? I gotta read that sometime. We found out some things today, too.” Joel was eager to tell about our adventures. He started talking about the apartment, which Dad wanted to see. We left the temple and hiked up to our new lodgings.

          Half a dozen guards and another Historical Scribe waited for us there. To my immense relief, Dad dismissed them all over their polite protests. When it was just the three of us again, we showed him around. Once he admired the outside, we brought him into the main room and told him about the rest of our day.

          “I am curious about the Masamba, and the Jabulani, too,” Dad said.

          “Why don’t we go now, and visit the Masamba?” Joel asked, eager for another adventure.

          “What? In the jungle at night? How would we find them? It’s dark out there.” It was the last thing I wanted to do.

          “We would see their fires from above, when we fly there,” my brother said. “Let’s just drop in.”

          “Maybe another time, kids. It has been a long, exciting day and you need to go to bed now.” Dad said.

          My brother and I both protested. “I don’t feel tired at all.” I said. “You know, nothing made me tired today.”

          “We went all day without eating or drinking anything, either.” Joel added. “I think that Creators don’t need to eat, drink, or sleep. What we can do is fly, like right now.”

          Dad slowly looked convinced, but said, “I don’t know how to fly, son.”

          “It is so easy. We can show you and you’ll be flying in a couple of minutes.”

          “Where is he going to learn?” I countered, pointing to the ceiling.

          My brother was undaunted as he strode outside. “Let’s try it out here, on the balcony.” We joined him on the veranda. Dad went to the edge and looked down.

          “The ground is awfully far down there. Do you think I can learn before I fall and break my neck?”

          “No,” I said.

          “Yes,” Joel said at the same time.

          Dad stood there, thinking. “So, what do I have to do?”

          My father caught on quickly. He was much more careful than Joel and enjoyed flying more than I did, so soon we were zipping along over Harun, the fields, and then arriving at the jungle. I tried to look for lights below but when I did, my stomach would flip. The moons covered everything in their fluid silver light, making the landscape below shimmer. We flew for some time, but we could not locate the Masamba fires.

          “What about the Outsider village? We could go there tonight instead,” I suggested after a while. I would rather go to a civilized village than a dark, scary jungle filled with wild animals and even wilder people.

          Dad shook his head. “I want the Directorate to take us there themselves. Did you see how reluctant Zayas seemed? He needs to answer for what they have done. No, I’m determined to find the Masamba. Let’s fly lower.” We flew so low that our toes brushed the topmost leaves on the trees. It was annoying to have bugs hitting my face and arms. I was careful to keep my mouth closed.

          Dad slowed, flying in a circle. Next, I caught whiffs of wood smoke. All three of us stopped until we hovered in the air. Lights twinkled below my feet. We floated down while being careful not to brush against leaves and branches.

          An unseen man was speaking somewhere beneath us. In front of us to the right was a clearing. There was a fire in the middle and torches around the perimeter of the clearing, lighting the circular area brightly. Off to one side sat four men on large, high-backed chairs. There was a fifth chair in the middle and the man standing in front of it was the speaker, whose voice we could hear. A single man sat in a smaller, less ornate seat off to their right. There was a crowd of people facing them, sitting on the ground and watching.

          I wanted to stop and hear what the man was saying, but my father kept descending. We followed Dad as he touched down in front of the crowd and heard their gasps of astonishment. The speaker stopped and there was complete silence.

Though our dropping in was unexpected, the Masamba did not pause but took immediate action. People melted away into the darkness until the leaders were the only ones left facing us.

          The speaker stared at us for a few moments, which was intimidating. He was a little taller than my father and massive with muscle and bulk. Like Hunter, his chest was bare, but around his waist was a type of skirt made from narrow, braided strips of leather, and a fluffy fur neck-piece covered his shoulders. He was scary. On his head he wore the head of a snarling baboon, a huge knife hung from his belt, and he held a yard long, narrow club. I wished we had never decided to come down and face him. The fire reflected in his deep-set eyes as he fingered one of the braids of his long beard.

The other four men were dressed similarly and they glared at us. The lone man to the right got out of his chair and came closer to the group. He was as massive, but unlike the others, he did not wear a baboon head or a braided leather skirt. There were tufts of tawny fur woven in his hair, the same as Hunter. He had a beard, but it was shorter and not braided. Instead of scowling at us like the rest, his eyes rested on us with wonder. If he had been alone, our reception might have been friendlier.

My father stood straight and tall, not intimidated by the leader, or at least, he did not show it. “What are you doing here? You have invaded the serenity of our gathering,” the man in charge said.

“We are the Creators and have arrived at Fahdamin-Ra after our long absence. Since our return, we are meeting each tribe.”

“My tribe does not believe in Creators. Leave now, and do not bother us again.” The man turned his back on Dad, and plunked down in his chair.

Dad glanced back at us and then folded his arms. “I am not leaving and neither are my children. We have come a long way to visit you, so why don’t you make the effort to get to know us? After all, who else but Creators would visit you by flying?”

“You are not Creators. You are magicians, who used a trick,” he spoke loudly, playing to the unseen audience of his people, who listened in the dark.

My father studied the man for a moment. “Aren’t you the least bit concerned about being rude to Creators, with the powers we possess?”

The man looked bored. “There are no such beings as the Creators.”

Dad scowled. “Well, we will just have to convince you.” For a reply, the man lifted an eyebrow and smirked toward his friends. My father stared at the leader and the leader’s chair rose from the ground. The man was jolted, but tried to cover it up.

“It is still a trick,” he called, from twelve feet over our heads. “You cannot convince me that easily.” Dad shrugged his shoulders, and lowered the man to the ground. The leader’s expression did not change, but he stood up and moved away from his seat.

“Bring someone to me that is sick or wounded, and I will cure them,” My father spoke matter-of-factly.

The leader held up his stick and gazed at it when he said, “We do not have any sick or wounded people. We cure them at the shrine.”

“Let me have your knife and your arm. I will make a cut and then heal it.”

The men snorted with laughter at this proposal, but Hunter stalked out of the darkness and up to Dad. He handed my father the large knife that hung from his belt. Dad took it and grasped Hunter’s outstretched hand. Gritting his teeth, he slashed Hunter’s arm as the warrior stood there, unmoving. Blood gushed out; dripping on the ground as Hunter took back his knife and returned it to its sheath, his movements calm and steady. Dad traced the wound with one finger, making the blood and the cut disappear. Hunter put his arm up in the air so all could see that the cut was gone and then faded back into the darkness beyond the circle.

The leader leaned back in his chair, unimpressed. “Another trick. It just proves that you know magic.”

“Then you suggest a challenge.” Dad stood there, arms at his sides waiting, as the men huddled in a conference. After a while, they went back and sat down wearing identical smirks. The leader did not say anything but seemed to be waiting for something. Dad did not move, but Joel and I looked around wondering what was going to happen.

We did not hear them come until they were almost upon us. A dozen or more leopards dashed into the light. Dad crouched, ready to leap into flight and I cringed, throwing my arms up to ward them off. Joel whistled and one leopard bounded to him, knocking him over. Dad and I reached out to grab the animal but Joel was laughing and rubbing her fur. “Harriet, you lummox, get off my stomach, you weigh a ton.” He grunted as he pushed her off him. The other leopards ran in circles, uncertain what to do. Dad touched them one by one, so my brother and I copied him. The big cats calmed and sat at our feet, with one sitting directly on mine!

“Is this all you can come up with?” It was Dad’s turn to laugh. The baboon men looked annoyed as they got back in a huddle. The lone man just stared at us in wonder.

After a long while, men broke apart and went back to their chairs. “Come back tomorrow, and we will have a more appropriate challenge for you.”

“I accept.” Dad turned away and rose in the air. Joel and I followed. Once we got above the jungle, Joel suggested that we go for a spin. Dad agreed, so outvoted, I tagged along.

We cruised over the stone circle, and saw the smooth stones reflecting the moonlight. We headed east and found Jabulan beside a bend in the river. It was a village of circular huts set in concentric circles with a much larger building in the middle. No one was stirring, but rafts floated off a dock on the river and smoke curled up from a structure that stood alone, a little way from rest of the village. Light streamed from the open sides so we went lower, and spotted a woman adding wood to a fire underneath a large kiln.

She wore a vivid print top and a wrap skirt an equally vivid print, though they did not match each other. A scarf that covered most of her hair was another pattern, with its own intense color and design. She finished her task and vanished back into the darkness, but we heard her begin to sing:

Lady Creator, mother of all,

Thank you for this night, and the sleep you give us,

For the stars and the moons that watch overhead,

Thank you for the day, and the light you bring,

For our willing bodies and the work we do.

Let us be one with your creation

As we use the gift to create ourselves.

Let us see the beauty of every living thing.

Thank you for the land and the sky

Thank you for the plants and the trees

Thank you for the fish in the water

Thank you for the birds that fly

Thank you for the beasts of the land

Let us be one with your creation

As we use the gift to create ourselves.

Her strong and melodious voice floated up to us, as we hovered above her in the dark. I wished I could hear it in her language instead of automatically hearing it in mine. At the end of the song, she did not reappear, so we drifted away and followed the line of the river. It sparkled below us, finally blending into an ocean.

We landed on glowing white sand. The beach stretched for miles, lined with palm trees that waved and whispered in the wind. I heard a splash and my brother was swimming in the glistening ocean. I pulled off my dress and headscarf before leaping in and joining him. I enjoyed the warmth of the water and the fun of swimming in my underwear. Dad sprawled on the sand, watching us and smiling. He was not fond of swimming. Mom was the one who always swam with us, gliding through the water like a seal. I suddenly missed her very much, so I climbed out of the water and sat by Dad.

“I wish Mom were here.”

Dad nodded as he pulled a strand of seaweed out of my wooly hair. “I do, too. Maybe, after I figure out what I’m doing here, I can go back and get her.”

“Really? That would be great.” I splashed back in the water to tell my brother the good news.

We swam for a long time, never getting tired, cold, or thirsty. The sunrise turned the color of the sky to salmon, and Dad called us out of the water, and told us it was time to leave. We flew back to Harun and the flight dried our salt stiffened clothes. No one was there when we arrived, so we slipped inside, unnoticed. We took turns bathing in the big tub and then decked ourselves out in another change of clothes and different jewelry.

When the Harun Directorate arrived at our doorstep, we were standing in the main room ready to go, not sure of what we were going to find.

This is the last chapter that I am posting. For my book, "Travels to Fahdamin-Ra", you can buy it at Navarone Books, Smashwords or Amazon. I will post when it is available in soft cover. Thanks for reading! Navarone Books Link, Smashwords link, Amazon Kindle link

Chapter 6 ~Flying Lessons

           The rain soon stopped, so we accepted Yohance and Jetta's offer to go visit their mother. Joel hesitated a moment at the top of the staircase. "Why did your tribe decide to build the Creator’s place up so high?"

          "Obadele, the Third Creator, created a gift to us of our friends, the eagles. We carved this place for him, so that he could see the birds when he was not flying with them." Yohance used his hands as he talked, making graceful, flowing gestures.

          "Uh, what do you mean that he flew with the eagles?"

          "He flew in the sky with them," Jetta said.

          "He actually flew in the air." Joel looked as skeptical as I felt.

          "Yes, yes." Yohance was quite excited, "Yes, Councilor, the history specifically and clearly explains how he flew in the air with the eagles. After all, he was a Creator and nothing was impossible for him."

          Joel and I exchanged looks, which did not escape Jetta’s notice. "You could fly if you wished to. Perhaps you would like to try?"

          "Not here." I answered for us. My brother started to protest, but I went down the stone stairs ignoring his complaints.

          Yohance took us on another meandering tour through the city streets until we entered a tunnel with steps leading downward. It led to a warren of rooms, hollowed out of the stone and lit here and there by flickering torches. We crossed a narrow bridge over a placid stream, and met up with Silkworm Grower Sela. She gave us a tour of the dark, dank rooms that had moths darting about. One landed on my hair and rested there several minutes until it flew away again.

          Sela and the other workers demonstrated how they fed the worms, and then took us to other rooms to show us the little wooden frames where silkworms wove their silken threads. She led us back upstairs, to reveal where they boiled the cocoons, so they could unravel the threads in preparation for weaving. It was so much fun because Sela explained the basics, and then let Joel and me ask many questions.

          It was with reluctance that we left so that Sela could go back to her work. Jetta took the lead as we headed for the northern gate. Joel was anxious to be out in the open, so he could try flying. She guided us through the network of streets, which still looked like a maze to me. As we hurried past endless doorways and windows, someone called out Jetta’s name. We paused as two boys came running up to us. I saw right away that they were identical twins, about seven or eight years old, and wearing short, sleeveless, blue tunics.

          "Jetta, hello,” said one. He touched Jetta’s proffered knuckles with his own. His twin stared at us shyly. "Yohance, you’re here, too. Where are you going? Will you take us?"

          Jetta and Yohance smiled at him. "These are our young and energetic cousins, Ulan and Pili. They have the distinction of being the first twins in many generations, an immense honor to their parents," Yohance explained. Ulan smiled at us, but Pili kept on staring. 

          "Boys, these are Councilors Celestine and Joel, who are the Creators that you must have heard about. I am showing them around and Yohance is writing the history of it," Jetta said with a touch of pride. The boys, to my relief, did not kneel down in homage to us. Joel extended his hand in greeting and touched the boy’s knuckles to his. I followed suit.

          "Would you like to go with us?" I asked them, seeing twin smiles light up. "Do you need to get permission?"

          Pili nodded and dashed away. As he raced back to his home, Jetta called after him, "Tell Grandmother you are going just with Yohance and me." To us, she said, "If he tells Grandmother he is going to accompany the Creators, she will come out and thank you and we will never get thru the gate." Pili came dashing back to us and halted beside his brother. He nodded at us, so we resumed our march.

          Ulan walked alongside Joel. "So, you are a Creator?" he asked. "You look like a boy. I thought you would be a tall man. Your skin is not dark, either. Is there something wrong with you, because you are so pale?" Jetta hastened to shush him.

          "It’s okay," Joel assured her. He turned his attention to Ulan. "My dad is here with us, and he’s darker, like you, but he is not a tall man. I wish you could meet my Mom. If you think I’m light, you ought to see her. Her skin is the color of the sand by the river, and her hair is smooth and not wooly. You’ve never met anyone like her before, I bet."

          I enjoyed watching the twins. After observing the boys for a while, I could tell them apart by their personalities. Ulan was outgoing and inquisitive. He kept shooting questions at Joel, asking him if he’d been to this place or that, whom he’d met, and what he’d seen. Joel kept up a string of answers. I tuned out when Ulan started describing how the eagles kill and bring their fresh meat back to their nests, and then feed it to their youngsters. Pili tagged along, right behind them, listening to every word, but not uttering a sound. Yohance wrote down occasional remarks from Joel, grinning at his nephews all the while. Jetta and I dropped back so we could talk out of earshot.

          "Can Pili talk?" I asked.

          Jetta nodded. "Oh, yes, he talks. He has an extended vocabulary, but has so much attention on him that he is shy unless he gets to know you. Ulan has an insatiable curiosity, and asks questions day and night. As you’ve observed, he is not the most tactful in his examinations."

          I smiled. "I like someone who is not afraid to say what is on their mind. Why do people pay so much attention to them? Because they are twins?"

          "Yes, many generations go by without anyone giving birth to twins. We see it as a sign of great favor bestowed upon us. Now, you and your brother are here, two Creators in one generation, which has never happened before. Your arrival is the start of great changes that we have prayed for."

          I felt rather overwhelmed, like the feeling of realizing that you are having a big test that you have not prepared for. Then I remembered Dad was with us. I also hoped that the Harun would be patient in helping us catch up on all the lost centuries of information.

          The northern gate was less elaborate than the main gate. We passed through it without ceremony to empty fields with brown soil and no plants. The dirt was muddy from the rain, and mud stuck to our feet as we walked toward a grove of trees.

          "Where are all the crops?" Joel wondered aloud.

          "This field is lying fallow for three harvests. We put nutrients in the soil, then plant again after it has rested and the soil has built up," Yohance said. 

          Joel decided that he would try flying, so we left him to it and made our way over to the trees. The shade was cool and refreshing. The trees had twisty trunks and smooth green leaves, each one the size of my hand. The twins laughed and chased each other around, as Yohance, Jetta, and I watched my brother’s hilarious efforts.

          Joel took running starts and threw himself in the air, but fell repeatedly. He did not appear to be hurt and his endeavors were tireless. He soon became quite muddy, but the dirt did not bother him. I giggled and even Jetta and Yohance laughed, though they covered their mouths each time.

          After watching for a while, Yohance could not help it. "Master Joel, you are most courageous and persistent. If I could be permitted to make a humble suggestion,” Yohance continued at Joel's nod, "maybe if you visualize yourself flying, you will fly. At least, that is what The First Creator, Obasi wrote, when he created us in the beginning. He visualized us as he tapped away at the rock and we emerged from the stone."

          My brother stopped all movement and closed his eyes. I watched him, noting what an unusual sight it was to see him so still. Then a gap appeared between his feet and the ground. My breath caught as I saw Joel rise in the air. He opened his eyes and let out a whoop, which caused him to drop a few feet until he caught himself. Putting out his arms he flew like a plane, learning at a rapid pace, and soon was looping and whirling against the bright blue sky.

          Jetta, Yohance, and I laughed and clapped, and then Joel flew down to me. "C'mon, Sistine. You gotta try this.” He tried to grab my hand and pull me up with him.

          "Let go! I want to learn by myself." I walked out to the middle of the field and tried to concentrate. I ignored the sticky earth at my feet and the clamor that my brother was making. I imagined that my feet were leaving the ground and that I was floating, just floating on the breeze like a feather.

          When I dared to open my eyes, I was hovering about ten feet up in the air. I gasped and then fell, hitting the mucky ground. Jetta ran up to me. “Councilor Celestine, are you all right?"

          I nodded and got up, not hurt at all. We brushed the mud off my dress as best we could and I tried again. After many tries, I floated, but I was shaky and uncomfortable. While my brother flew around me doing somersaults and tricks in the air, I poked along. It was just so strange, adrift with nothing to hold me. I was queasy if I looked at the ground and uneasy when Joel flew by with no effort whatsoever.

          The mud dried and fell off us as we flew, leaving no trace of it behind. I began to feel more confident, but I was still cautious. Thank goodness that my brother got the hang of flying, because over toward the trees, we heard someone screaming. I saw Yohance drop his writing paddle and dash into the copse, toward the direction of the twins. From my lofty height I could see them yelling, and pointing up into a tree.

          Joel sailed past me and reached the tree in a minute. I saw a flash of tan or gold as the boys scattered and my brother fell to the ground, with something in his arms. The little boys kept screaming as they ran toward Yohance, who picked them both up.

          I fumbled through the sky, reaching the tree at the same time as Jetta, who raced there from the field. Joel was just standing up, alongside a leopard, which he must have caught in mid air.

          "Joel, are you crazy? Get away from that animal," I yelled, taken aback by his actions.

          My brother just stood there with a dopey expression on his face, his hand patting the leopard’s head. The big cat saw me and growled, but Joel beckoned me closer. "It’s okay, she won’t hurt you. See? She likes me." The leopard sat down beside him and leaned against his leg.

          "Wasn't she going to leap on the boys when you caught her? What makes you think she won’t attack you?"

          "Celestine, she must feel my power. If we are Creators, then we rule over all the animals, too. Come closer and pet her," he coaxed as I edged nearer. "Put your hand on her head and let her feel you." I put my hand on the leopard’s head and was surprised at how hot she felt. Closing my eyes, I connected with her and felt her wildness, while at the same time, her calmness. Her animal brain was fascinating to me and I stood for several minutes, working my way through it.

          I opened my eyes and patted her. She was not as soft as I expected her to be. Her face looked wild but distinguished, with exotic markings. The animal had large feet, fur covering her dreadful claws.

          Joel kissed the top of her head and she started to purr. "I decided to name her Harriet," he stated matter-of-factly, as if he had just received a fluffy new kitten.

          "Harriet?" I said. Now that I knew he was all right, I was furious with Joel. "How did you know she wasn't going to kill you? You are taking too many risks! What’s next? Wrestling crocodiles in the river?" I saw his eyes light up at that suggestion. Oh great, I thought, that’s all my little brother needed, more ideas. I hate tattle-tales, but I planned to tell my dad when we got back to the city. There was more I wanted say, but Joel was admiring Harriet, so I knew it was a waste of time to give him more warnings. Yohance was writing at a fast pace, making notes. Jetta and the boys stood nearby, staring at Joel and the leopard in awe. 

          "We aren't going to make Harriet tame are we, Joel? She won’t walk up to some hunter after this?" I asked.

          He considered it for a moment. "No, I don’t think that will happen, because she knows you and I are special. She might approach Dad, because he’s a Creator, too. If she saw our friends without us around, she might attack them if she were hungry." He lowered his voice. "All wild animals think kids are easy targets. Ulan and Pili are okay as long as they are with us."

          A sharp whistle echoed through the still air. Harriet lifted her head, and darted to Hunter, who stood beside a nearby tree. "What are you doing with my animal?"

          "Just admiring her. She belongs to you?" Joel questioned him.

          "All leopards belong to the Masamba. They were gifts to the jungle people, created for them by the Second Creator, Adanna, the supernatural and mysterious." Yohance answered for Hunter.

          Hunter gave a mocking bow to the Harun man, saying, "What brings you inquisitive children out beyond the city?" At first, I thought he meant Ulan and Pili, but then I realized that he was referring to Joel and me. I bristled at someone calling me a child.

          "We were out here, saving these little boys from being attacked by your beast."

          "A leopard is a leopard, and they must act by their instincts," he said, as he rubbed Harriet’s side.

          "Are you going hunting?" asked Jetta. She was looking at the band around his head, which held little feathered darts with their points sticking up.

          "Yes, now is when we hunt." Hunter pointed to the sun, which was starting to go down, in a bed of orange and purple clouds.

          "Well, let's go, too. I want to see a leopard hunt," Joel said. Hunter shook his head and turned away. Joel rose into the air and hovered twenty feet over the man. "If Harriet wants to get an antelope, there's a small herd over that way," he informed everyone, pointing to the right.

            If Hunter was surprised to see my brother in the air, he kept his face impassive as he looked up. "Thank you, but we do not need any help." He started to walk away,

          We followed him anyway. He looked back at us, and then stared at Jetta, who smiled and promised, "The Creators are curious. We will all be silent."

          All of us looked at Ulan, who retorted, "I can be quiet."

          "You had better be, or you must leave," Hunter said as a warning. He turned and followed Harriet, who headed for the antelope herd. Joel floated overhead, but I stayed on the ground. Hunter trod silently, but the rest of us walked too noisily, which caused him to turn around and glare at us from time to time. Soon, we came to a rise where Hunter motioned to us to hide behind some rocks. The antelope stood in the long, yellow grass. Hunter and Harriet slid down the slope and crept away until they disappeared into the grassy sea. I wished that I had chosen to fly overhead like Joel, so I could see what was happening.

          Nothing changed for a long while, and then some of the antelope lifted their heads and moved restlessly, sensing danger. The grass shook as the leopard darted to the edge of the herd, and they scattered in panic. A small buck started running, but the grass was too tall to see Harriet behind him. It darted over to the right as Hunter popped up out of the grass and threw some darts at the antelope. One stuck in the middle of the buck’s neck, but the animal kept running and swerved to get away from Hunter.

          The animal did not go much further, before it fell. Hunter and Harriet walked up to the spot where it dropped. Joel floated down to the ground beside them. We took that as a signal to come out of hiding, and we walked through the grass.

          The animal was dead. It died with its eyes open, which was creepy and sad at the same time. Joel sighed. "If the buck had to die, at least it died fast. What was in that dart? Was it poison?"

          Hunter cocked an eyebrow. "Do you think my people would eat a poisoned animal?" When we stood there, waiting for an answer, he said, "It is a secret that my people discovered ages ago," and that was all he would say.

          Hunter wasted no time in searching around until he found two long limbs. He cleared the branches from them, and then unhitched a coiled rope from his belt, and began to tie the animal on top of the poles. We watched, fascinated. Then he picked up one end and hoisted the poles onto his shoulders. He walked at a rapid pace, pulling the animal along behind him.

          We marched along, the boys whooping and running before us until we reached the edge of the jungle. It was getting dark now and soon we would not be able to see. Hunter put the poles down. "I hope this satisfies your curiosity," said the Masamba man. It was his way of dismissing us.

          "But don’t you need help to get the antelope home through the jungle?" I wanted to know. He turned and motioned to Harriet, who bounded into the underbrush and disappeared from sight.

          Jetta moved closer to Hunter, giving him her loveliest smile and he grinned a little in return. "Thank you for the interesting experience of showing us how you hunt."

          "You are welcome," he said, looking at Jetta, then beyond her to the rest of us. "I hope you will leave now. Some of my tribesmen are coming and they would not understand why I am here with you." This time, Hunter sounded a little less curt.

          "Goodbye then, and thanks," I said, as Yohance and Joel echoed me.

          "I had fun. You are so brave and you tricked that antelope," said Ulan. "We want to see you again. My brother and I could help you next time."

          Hunter smiled at the boy and grasped his shoulder. "I will look for you. Now, will you and your brother be brave warriors and escort everyone back home?"

          "Yes," Ulan said, grasping Jetta's hand. He took mine, but his eyes widened in shock when he touched me. "Your hand is so warm and you are buzzing, like a bee."

          Pili reached over and took Joel's hand. "Yes, I feel it, too," he said in a soft, wondering voice.

          The Masamba man looked grave, and I wondered if he was thinking about when Dad touched him. My assumption was correct, because he automatically put his hand on the spot where his wound had been.

          We turned away and Jetta was last to go. Joel and I could see well in the dark, so we led the others to the road. As we found our way home in the twilight, the three moons rose, one after another.

Chapter 5 ~ Awesome Creators

         The massive bridge and its stone guardians impressed Dad. I could hear him asking questions that the Tribe Historian was anxious to answer. I blocked out the annoying drone of Rudo’s voice as I saw the people streaming out of the city up ahead.

          As we got closer, King Zayas and Dad took the lead. When the people sighted them, they began pointing and talking excitedly. Zayas raised his arms over his head, and my father followed suit. The crowd knelt, throwing out colorful pieces of fabric for us to walk on.

          We entered the city, where the noise was deafening as it bounced off the rock walls. Every Harun was present and knelt as we passed. We trickled through the crowded streets until we arrived at the stone temple. The king directed my father to sit outside the entrance, on a stone that served as a stool. It sat at the top of the temple steps, with two smaller blocks set on either side for Joel and me. Fresh guards appeared, stretching a purple awning over our heads.

          I felt important, and loved being the center of attention, at least at first. We soon discovered that they expected us to sit, while Zayas, Rudo, and Anon introduced an endless line of people. Kayin stayed far away from me, and he busied himself arranging those in line. We met the five stripe men first because they were the most important, and then worked our way through others of lesser rank.

           It was tedious, and Joel was the first to look cross and fidgety. Even Dad grew quiet and more solemn as the introductions progressed. Maybe this was one of the things he was afraid would happen if he came to Fahdamin-Ra. I felt like falling off my stool just to jar myself awake.

          “Where are the women?” I blurted out to the king. “You say that you want us to meet your tribe, but all we see are men.” This time, Dad agreed with me as he looked at Zayas.

          A strange emotion passed over the leader’s face, but he motioned for some of the women in the back of the crowd to come to us. The first one, a dignified woman in a purple hat, he introduced as his wife, Queen Adama. She bowed and moved on without speaking, her eyes downcast.

          Rudo’s wife was a surprise; a pretty, though unhappy looking woman, young enough to be his daughter. The line stalled as Rudo went on about his wife’s lineage, until Zayas looked annoyed and the tedious historian moved on to introduce the next woman.

          At that point, Dad stood up, and announced, “I am glad to know all the people of this city, but it would be more meaningful to meet them in their workplaces, while seeing what they do.”

          Zayas clapped his hands and ordered everyone to go to work, though the next people standing in line must have been disappointed. Joel and I were so relieved to get up and move around, that it was hard to feel sorry for them. Rudo was at Dad’s elbow, steering him inside the temple, so my brother and I followed.

          Sudi came over to greet my father. He was delighted to see Joel again, and expressed congratulations to me, after discovering that I was a Creator, too. “The sun has come up on a new day, indeed,” he said. “It fulfills the prophecy of the three; the father, the son, and the daughter. It was foretold that they would come together and make changes in the land.”

          A prophecy about the three of us? It was a weird feeling to consider this. As tall men crowded around, I saw Yohance on the fringes of the group, so I waved. He beamed back at me. By now, there was a crowd in the temple consisting of historians, guards, and the royals.

          It was a relief when my father decided to go outside, but the bunch from the temple followed us. Taking Joel’s and my hands, he started to walk away, but the men were right on our heels, so Dad turned to address them.

          “Gentlemen, I would like to have everyone behave as if my children and I were not here. Please let us be free to browse around unaccompanied. I have so much to see and learn, and would appreciate the time to look around at my own pace."

          Everyone's eyes went to King Zayas. It was impossible to tell from his stony expression if he was hurt, annoyed, or angry. “Yes, my lord, it shall be as you desire. Please let the Tribe Historian go about with you, so that he can record your doings for our history, and assist you.” Rudo smiled and stepped forward.

          “Wait! Dad, I saw Yohance, and he writes stuff down. Can’t he go with us instead?” I jumped in, daring Rudo or Zayas to disagree. “See, he’s the young guy in the back. I met him before. He’s helpful and nice.” I waved to Yohance, who waved back, and then Dad spotted him.

          “Yes, that’s fine with me. I am sure Tribe Historian Rudo has many important tasks to do. Yohance, would you come here, please?” The young man threaded his way to us. He carried a paddle with paper attached and held a writing utensil ready. 

          My father turned back to the Harun monarch. “Thank you so much, King Zayas, for all that you have done to make us feel so welcome. My children and I will enjoy ourselves, and will see you later.”

          The king dipped his head. “If one would acquire knowledge of an eagle, one must climb the cliffs, not just study a feather. Please call on me, or any of my men, well, anyone of my tribe, and we will assist you at any time. Historical Scribe Yohance will record your observations, and everything that you Creators say and do. You may read his writings at any time, to check for accuracy.” It sounded like a threat to Yohance, but Dad just nodded, smiled, and turned away.

          “Lead on, Yohance. You will also double as our tour guide.”

          Yohance wrinkled his brow in puzzlement, and then smiled as he walked backwards. “I must confess that I do not know what this 'tour guide' is, but I will take you to wherever you wish to go. What is your desire, my mysterious and glorious Creators?”

          “Let’s go explore the savannah,” said Joel. That sounded like fun, but Dad shook his head.

          “Not so far away. Yohance, please take us to the fields that we passed on the way in.” Our guide nodded, and in one graceful movement, spun on his heel and started down a street. Not as many people were about, so we walked along with ease and arrived at the main gate much sooner than I expected. People still gawked at us, but no one said anything as we stepped through the arch.

          I felt the welcome breeze on my face, as we headed along the road. From the city to the bridge, there was a paved road of nicely fitted stone. Yohance soon veered off and went through the neat rows of plants. He saw a woman carrying a basket of leaves, and called out a greeting to her when he was near. She was not wearing the earth-toned stripes like the other farmers, and her dress was longer, with four stripes of gray, white, and two shades of blue. Her hat was a blue scarf with three knots tied in it, one at the front and one on either side. Balancing her basket on a hip, she waved to our guide, but knelt on the soft ground between the rows as we approached. Spying us, some farmers nearby copied her.

          “Please, everyone, if you would stand, then I could have the pleasure of seeing your faces,” Dad said with a smile. The people rose, gazing at us with uncertainty.

          “My Lord Councilor Raymond, I wish to introduce you and your children to my mother, Silkworm Grower Sela.”

          It was easy to see where Yohance got his dazzling smile and his sister, Jetta, her beauty. Their mother was elegant, with slanted eyes and arched brows, which reminded me of a cat. “Master Creator, what a welcome sight all three of you are for our longing Harun eyes. I have heard that both your children are Creators?” News traveled fast.

          “Yes, Silkworm Grower Sela. It appears that this is the first time two Creators were ever born in the same generation. All this is new to us, and we are looking forward to learning more about this world and its entire people.”

          “Some people have impressed us with their kindness right away - like Yohance. I have asked if he could record our history,” I said.

          Sela smiled at me as she responded to our father. "You are so kind. I am honored to see him in your presence."

          “We are glad to have him accompany us, though I must think of something profound to say so I can satisfy Tribe Historian Rudo,” Dad joked. “Please, would you share with me how you grow silkworms?”

          She was pleased that he asked. “We grow them in caves, where it is dark and damp. I pick leaves every day to feed them, such as these that I have in my basket.”

          “What do you use silk for?” questioned Joel.

          “Royalty and the important tribal members are the only ones who wear silk. Of course, now that you Creators are here, we will be making silk outfits for you. I am so delighted to meet all of you, but my silkworms need these leaves, and I beg that you understand that I must go.”

          We said goodbye to Sela and she left, after extracting a promise from us to come visit her in the caves, where she would show us the silkworm production. Joel was interested and I hoped we would go there next because it sounded so interesting and she was so nice.

          After Sela left, Dad turned his attention to the farmers that edged closer to us. “What do you grow out here? I have never seen such carefully attended fields.” The farmers surged forward, and began showing us their crops. In no time, we felt as if we’d always been part of their lives. 

          Dad, Joel, and I recognized peppers, tomatoes, onions, and different kinds of melons. The Harun farmers knew so much about farming, and they grew a huge variety of crops, including vegetables that I had never seen before. Besides food, they showed us fields of cotton, and plants that they used to make dyes. The growers were proud of their irrigation system, taking great pains to explain how they watered their crops by using the river. We must have spent hours looking over the fields, but it was educational in a fun way, because they told fascinating stories about wild rainstorms or endless droughts. We never realized how many animals and pests the farmers had to fight off to protect their crops. I thought how hard their life must be at times, but they took it as a challenge they were unafraid to face.

          It was getting along toward midday when we took a break and sat in the shade of the stone bridge. Joel was tossing rocks in the murky brown water, when he stopped abruptly. I saw what he was staring at and nudged Dad, who was talking to Yohance beside him.

          At the edge of the fields, Harun guards appeared to be holding a man as their prisoner. It was hard to make out his features from a distance, but he was not dressed like a Harun, and his hands were tied together as he was led along. A guard brought up the rear, clutching the arm of a Harun girl in a red dress, who was struggling to free herself.

          “Jetta!” said Yohance, who leaped to his feet. “What are they doing with her?” We all got up and started to run along the road.

          The guards disappeared through a side gate in the city walls, but we kept to the road, dashing through the main gate in record time. Yohance took the lead, his scribe paddle bouncing against his leg. We had to slow down a bit as we navigated the city streets.

          Yohance led us to the main plaza, in front of the tall, imposing building to the left of the temple. Jetta and the prisoner knelt on its bottom step, while King glowered at them from the doorway, a dozen steps above. Sudi was pleading in his son’s ear, but the king’s eyes glittered like stones, and he was not hearing a word his father said.

          Dad pulled us into a nearby shop, where we could listen and observe. Yohance jotted down notes faster than he had all morning. Joel and I stared at the prisoner.

          He looked as if he were in his twenties, and he was scantily dressed. His clothing consisted of two flaps of zebra skin, held up by a wide leather belt, one each in the front and back. Unlike the barefoot Harun, he wore sturdy leather sandals. Odd green areas splotched his torso, arms, and face. The stranger's build was shorter and more muscular than the Harun. His nose was longer and wider, and his skin was a lighter brown. The most unusual thing was his hair. Shaved close on the sides and a few inches long on top, it had black and white tufts woven into it. 

          Zayas waved his father away and told the prisoners to rise. Jetta rose at once, but the man took his time and then stood in a casual stance. “Masamba prisoner, what is your name?” The man remained silent. “I command you to tell me your name,” commanded the king, but the man spat on the ground before him. The king took a few steps toward to the prisoner until he was an arm’s length away. “Your insolence and defiance are what I have come to expect from your people. Why were you trying to kidnap this girl from my tribe?” The prisoner just continued to stare at Zayas.

          The king gave a tiny nod and a guard from behind the prisoner kicked the Masamba’s legs out from under him, making the man’s head crash into the steps as he fell. Zayas put his foot on the prisoner's head, holding it down as the guard touched the point of his sword to the helpless man’s back. “I can put all my weight on your head and crush it like a melon,” taunted the king. "Shall I do that now or will you talk?” Two guards held Jetta as she begged Zayas to let the man go. Ignoring her, the monarch nodded to another guard who brought out a whip. “Perhaps a whipping will help you find your tongue. You will tell us everything we need to know, starting with where you are holding my missing people.” The king stepped back and the guard raised the whip.

          Dad brushed past me and ran to the Masamba man. Zayas’s gaze centered only on the prisoner and he smiled, his eyes triumphant as the sound of the first lash cracked in the air. My father grabbed the whip before it slashed the prisoner and yanked it out of the startled guard’s hand. “There will be no whipping today or any day in the future, Zayas. We need to go somewhere private and talk about this.”

          His eyes blazing, the king nodded and led the way into the building. Dad helped the wounded man to his feet, and motioned for Jetta to come, too. Of course, Joel, Yohance, and I followed them. We entered a narrow, dark hall and went into the first room on the left. It had a long stone table and benches. Jetta and the Masamba man took their seats on the far side as she examined the swelling, bleeding gash on her companion’s head. Her friend stared at the wall over our heads, behaving as if the cut was minor while the blood trickled down his face.

          "Would you like me to help with that?" my father asked.

          The wounded man smirked at him. "I don’t think you can."

          My father was calm as he walked around the table and pulled out a clean cotton handkerchief. When he touched the Masamba’s head, the prisoner flinched at the contact. My dad’s face lit up in wonder as the wound and the blood disappeared. The man stayed there unmoving, while Dad untied his hands and then returned to the other side of the table, sitting beside Zayas. The rest of us stood against the wall. Joel and I aimed to be inconspicuous and Yohance just stood there, absorbed in his writing.

          “I do not know what has gone on here before, but I know that nothing is solved by beating another person. If you,” Dad nodded to the Masamba,”don’t want to give your name, then give us something to call you.”

          “Call me Hunter.” He had a deep, smooth voice.

          “Yes, thank you, Hunter. King Zayas, why did your men feel that they needed to capture Hunter?”

          “We have been plagued for some years now with kidnappings. He was trying to abduct this young woman and we stopped him.”

          “He was not kidnapping me,” Jetta announced. “We are, well, friends.”

          “Then you ought to be punished for associating with the enemy,” the king snapped at her, glowering from beneath his furrowed brow.

          “Wait! What is going on? Why should anyone be punished for making friends with people from other tribes?” Dad asked Zayas.

          The king pursed his lips, unaccustomed to explaining himself. Jetta spoke up instead. “Our tribal leaders think the Masamba are responsible for the mysterious disappearance of some of our people. I tell you that the Masamba have nothing to do with it.”

          "The Masamba are bloodthirsty and deceitful. We have to distance ourselves from them and their wicked ways. This silly girl knows this, yet she willingly associates with such people," said Zayas.

          “I fail to see why it matters who I interact with as I am soon to be banished.” Jetta glared with great loathing at the king.

          “Banished to where?” Dad questioned. There was a lot going on that he needed to learn about.

          After a moment of hesitation, the king explained. “We have a place...my Lord. I must state that we were a lost people facing dark times, trying to get along without the divine guidance of our Creators. We sent people who are problematic, who don't fit in, to a small village where they will not be a menace to society.”

          “They sound like criminals. Why would you send Jetta there?”

          “She is a criminal. Jetta refuses to obey our laws.”

          Dad turned to Jetta. “Was making friends with Hunter the only crime that you committed?”

          “No, I also did not marry the king’s son as they ordered me to.” Joel and I looked at each other in astonishment. No wonder Kayin hated Jetta; she refused to marry him. “I am considered too rebellious for a woman and this is how they deal with me,” Jetta proclaimed, beautiful and defiant, while Hunter gazed at her with unconcealed admiration.

          Dad stood up and the rest followed suit. “Hunter, I am going to send you back to your tribe. King Zayas, please have someone accompany him until he leaves Harun lands, so that no one will harm or hinder him. Hunter, my children and I will come to visit you soon.” With a shrug of his shoulders, Hunter stood up, glanced at Jetta, and then he left. Zayas hurried out to give orders to the guards. When the king returned, Dad addressed him. “We will go see the village where these banished people live. You will accompany me, as well as your advisers and the prince. We can leave now.”

          Zayas became so tense that his face looked like stone. He gave a stiff bow saying, “As it pleases Your Greatness. It is going to rain soon, but if my Highest Lord would like to go immediately, I can make arrangements.”

          “Well, if it is going to rain, let us start first thing tomorrow morning.”

          The king nodded, his solemn face hiding his thoughts. There was an awkward silence until he said, “In the meantime, would the Councilor like to review Harun and Creator history in the Temple?”

          Dad’s face lit up, but Jetta implored, “May I stay with your children?”

          “Of course,” Dad said. Seeing Jetta glance at the king, he added, “You have my protection Jetta, so that you may go anywhere you please without anyone bothering you.” Jetta relaxed and smiled as my father continued, “Yohance, since I will be at the Temple reading, you could stay with my children, if you would like to continue noting events.” Yohance gave a small bow in reply.

          With that, Dad followed Zayas out the door.

          Jetta and Yohance smiled at each other and us, too. “Would you like to see your apartment?” Jetta asked us.

          “We have an apartment?” I asked.

          “Yes, our master builders designed a place for Creators to use during visits. We keep them fresh and ready," Yohance said.

          “Let’s go.” Joel was already moving out the door. Jetta led us across the plaza as people stopped and stared. We trailed behind her as she began mounting a steep staircase chiseled out beside the temple. I felt nervous because there were many steps that led straight up with no landings. As scary as it was to climb up the stairs, I kept wondering what it would be like to descend them.

          At last, we reached the top. A narrow portico ran across the front of the building and followed along the sides. The graceful columns looked like budding flowers with long stems, their unopened blossoms at the top. In the middle loomed a tall doorway decorated with an elegant curtain of colored silk, which fluttered in the breeze. The gleaming gold and bright touches of jewel toned paint set off the dark stone of the walls and columns.

           We all turned around to view the city below. It was not a wide, sweeping vista, that would be expected from such a height. Tops of other buildings and higher spires of stone impeded the sight, so most of our view consisted of mountain peaks. Large birds flew overhead or perched on sharp crags. They blended well because their dark brown backs were the same color as the mountain. Their white breasts had spots of brown, as if they were wearing a polka dot shirt under a dark jacket. Some sat on untidy nests of sticks that rested on jutting ledges or hollows in the rock.

          "Look over there." Joel pointed to the left. A mature bird flew with its young, soaring above our heads. The older bird had a curvy beak, which looked familiar, as did its long tail. "They are the birds carved on the box." We watched them flying until they went out of sight.

          "They are called Mansa eagles, and are the most powerful bird in the world. They nest in our mountains and act as out guardians, always keeping watch. The eagles alerted the guards when you arrived yesterday morning," Jetta said. She turned and walked in the building, so we followed her.

          It was cool and quiet inside, in contrast to the heat outside and the bustling noises of the marketplace. We entered an elaborate main room with intricate murals of trees, flowers, and animals on one wall, and the open portico on the others. With a few large potted plants in ornate pots and some stone benches, the room had the warmth of a museum lobby.

          Outside, the sun disappeared behind a cloud and the wind picked up. "I think it will rain in short order," Yohance said. "This is the perfect time to acquaint our new Creators with this special and ancient place."

          "It is impressive," I said. "Could we see the whole apartment?" Two more doorways led to rooms beyond, of which I caught a glimpse.

          "Of course, my Holy Ones. Let me show you where everything is." Jetta guided us though the apartment, telling us that young women took turns cleaning and preparing it, which was an honor. All the rooms had sparse furniture and most looked the same. None of the rooms had doors, but some had strips of silk hanging in the doorways, similar to the main entrance.

          My favorite room was the Treasure Room. It was long with a window at one end. All sorts of gold and jeweled items rested on beds of purple silk laid on shelves. We stayed there a long time examining the gold jewelry, dishes, statues, and other items. Both Joel and I selected necklaces and bracelets to wear. I chose some bangles to put on my arms, while Joel put two wider ones with jewels on his ankles. My necklace was a large leopard pendent with green stones for eyes. Joel selected a good-sized eagle pendent, the golden wings of which spread out across his chest. Jetta and Yohance admired our jewelry, but we could not persuade them to try any themselves.

          There was a bathroom, a good-sized room, with only a massive stone tub in the middle. Beautiful murals of a river adorned the walls, which were lit by narrow openings near the ceiling. "Creator Zareb, the Great Philosopher, requested the tub so he could have a quiet place to think. After that, all Harun homes had a large tub added to them. Soaking in warm water clears the mind, leading to great meditations," Yohance said.

          We could hear the rain outside now, when we meandered back to the main room. Jetta and Yohance brought out huge, purple silk pillows for us to sit on.

          "Your mother grows silkworms, but what does your father do?" I asked.

          Jetta smiled. "Mistress Celestine, he has a remarkable occupation where he designs and crafts things out of gold."

          "Jewelry?"

          "Yes, my lady. Our father is a Master Goldsmith."

          "Wow!" Joel said. "How did he get a great job like that?"

          "Master Joel, my father showed an aptitude for it when he was a boy and learned much from his father, who was a goldsmith before him. When he was a young man, he mined for the gold. As he got older, he learned how to refine the metal and then mastered the skill of working with it. When he is an Elder, he will teach younger men his craft and pass on his knowledge."

          "How old do you have to be to get a job?"

          Jetta's smile wavered a little and she gave her brother a look. “When you reach sixteen harvests you are grown enough to start a trade, Lord Joel," Yohance said. "The City Director decides what job you will have, determined by your abilities."

          "So, Jetta, do you have a job?" I wanted to know.

          She smiled, though her eyes looked sad. "I was training to be a healer, Creator Celestine. The apprentices start out learning what herbs and roots to collect. I loved leaving the city walls, going out in the fields and woods."

          "Is that how you met Hunter?" My new friend bowed her head in embarrassment and nodded.

          "I can’t believe that they told you to marry Kayin," Joel said.

          Yohance smiled, but quickly clapped his hand over his mouth.

          "Well, I don’t blame you for turning him down," I announced, then proceeded to tell them how I changed Kayin into a pig. When Joel and I began laughing, our new acquaintances joined us, though they giggled behind their hands.

          After we calmed down, I realized that it explained Kayin’s reaction to Jetta the day before. "So, Jetta, did you say no because Kayin is an obnoxious pain, or is it because Hunter is mysterious and brave?"

          She smiled as she said, "It is because of both reasons." She then became solemn. “Someday, I hope you get to know Hunter and become his friend. In his tribe, they do not welcome outsiders and will not tell you their names until they trust you."

          "I won't breathe a word, if you and Yohance will just talk to us like regular people, without all the formalities." My brother nodded in agreement.

          "I will endeavor to follow your command, Councilors." Yohance got up and bowed.

          "I would like that. You honor us, and we shall never forget it," Jetta said.