“Three?” I echoed with a grimace.
The man frowned at my interruption.
“But know that even should you pass all three trials, only one gourd hides the treasure you seek. In one gourd, you will find a map to the forbidden place. In another, you will find disease. In the third, you will find death.”
I held up a hand. “Wait a minute. You’re saying we have to pass three trials, and then our prize for accomplishing that might still be death?”
The man just looked at me dumbly. Ahmose “interpreted” my words but changed them to suit his purposes. Instead, he said, “We accept the challenge of the calabash and understand that the outcome might be different than we hope.”
I elbowed him in the ribs, but he ignored me. Instead, he took my hand and locked my fingers in his.
“Very well,” the king said. “Then we shall begin.”
He lifted his fingers and whistled. A small boy with leaf skirt barely hanging on to his hips ran forward and placed an empty, hollowed-out gourd in the shape of a bowl into his king’s hands. The king gave it to Ahmose.
“Your first task,” he said, “is to fill the bowl to the brim with water.” He raised a staff and shook it in our faces. “But you cannot fill it using our well, a lake, the river, or a pond. If you are successful, you may drink from it.”
I stood there dumbfounded, thinking this must be a riddle of some sort, like the puzzle of the sphinx. Tia, Ashleigh, and I mentally whispered back and forth, trying to come up with something. We didn’t even notice what Ahmose was doing until his voice rang out around us in a spell. The warriors crouched down, their hands over their ears, quaking in fear. Their king stood upright, a gleam of interest in his eyes.
Ahmose wove his spell, and clouds gathered overhead. When he raised his arms, I could see them trembling with exertion. Lightning cracked and thunder boomed overhead. The clouds darkened, and then heavy rain began to fall. In a matter of a few moments, I was completely drenched. The warm rain felt refreshing as it washed away the sweat and grime of our trek through the jungle. I opened my mouth to let the water trickle down my throat, soothing my thirst.
As the minutes passed, the bowl slowly filled while the villagers watched curiously. When the bowl brimmed with water, the rain stopped and the clouds parted. The sun shone down and steam rose from the ground, curling upward. The packed dirt was now as black as the bark from the trees. The face paint and ash adorning the bodies of the warriors had washed away in patches, leaving the remaining paint clumpy and awkward.
“Good!” The king laughed with delight. “Now you may drink!”
Ahmose offered me the bowl, and I took it gratefully. I gulped from the edge, drinking deeply. The contents sloshed over the side and wetted my shirt even more, but I didn’t care. When I’d had my fill, I handed it back to Ahmose, who drank down the rest. Water trickled in little rivulets from his mouth down his throat and disappeared in the valley of his chest. When the water was gone, he handed the empty bowl to the king.
“Very good,” the king said. “Now, on to the second trial.”
He bade us to follow him. Before long, we’d hiked out of the village and through the jungle until we came upon a certain tree. “Your next task is to cut this tree down for our firewood without using any tools. But beware the ants,” he said, indicating a pulsating mound of brown and red that I now recognized as a mass of living creatures. “They won’t take kindly to your disturbing the area.”
With that, the villagers left, giving the nearby ants a wide berth. Ahmose and I walked around the tree, pushing on it and testing it for weaknesses. It was wide and strong and deep-rooted. It would take a long time to chop down even if we did have an ax. Ahmose immediately summoned a weapon from the sand but then stopped as he remembered that wasn’t allowed.
“Would my claws count as a weapon?” I asked him.
“I wouldn’t risk it,” he answered, allowing his own weapon to dissipate. “Ow!” he said as he slapped his neck. Then he danced a bit and brushed several ants from his arms. “Step back,” he warned. “They’re dangerous. These are the type that can kill living organisms, strip the flesh from their bones.”
Tia took over. “I’ve had much experience with these before. I’ve seen them overwhelm aging lions and cubs who couldn’t outrun them. The next morning, nothing remains, and even the skeletons are hardly recognizable.”
Really? I asked her. What are they called?
Wait a minute, Ashleigh said. We can figure out what they’re called. We’ll use the ants! She said excitedly.
“Ashleigh has an idea,” Tia said. Without even explaining to Ahmose what we were going to do, the three of us merged and summoned our power. The voice of Wasret echoed, “Heed me, small ones.” The mass of ants exploded outward and surged toward us. As individuals we began to panic, but we held on to each other tightly even though ants crawled up my legs and torso.
Ashleigh tried to break away when they began biting. There’s too many! she cried. We can’t name them all!
But Tia doggedly corralled her, bringing her back. We must find the commonality, she encouraged. We must name the colony!
No, I mentally shouted. Name the queen! She controls the others.
We pushed and stretched ourselves, finally breaking free of the pain inflicted by the ants as they bit and crawled beneath our clothing. In a voice carried by the wind, we cried as one, “Abyssinia the Fierce! She Who Brings Death and Life! The Queen of Honey and Fire! Heed our commands!” We felt the bending of the queen as she listened to us and within a moment, her ants moved, obeying her instructions.
The colony surrounded the tree and went to work. I was surprised at how quickly they were able to weaken the trunk. After an hour passed, we heard the crack and boom of the tree trunk splitting. Ahmose drew me to the side as it fell in the jungle, taking several other branches from nearby trees down with it. The power of Wasret went out of us with a whoosh.
A lone warrior soon appeared and guided us back to the village. The king emerged from his hut, his mask lifted on top of his head, stroking his jaw. He sat down on his mat, indicating we should do the same. He gave a nod to one of the women, who sat down next to us. She brought with her a bowl of white pasty goop that smelled slightly medicinal but otherwise highly pungent.
She rubbed the stuff on our ant bites, and though I wrinkled my nose at the smell, I was immediately appreciative of the ointment as it cooled the bites and soothed away the sting. As she worked, the king demanded, “Tell me how you accomplished this! A medicine man can bring the rain, but no one has survived the ants, let alone brought down the tree.”
Ahmose shrugged. “If we complete the trials and gain your help in finding my brothers, perhaps we will give you a demonstration of our power.”
The king, who had been kneeling, sat back abruptly as he considered Ahmose’s words. “Bah. It matters not,” he said with a wave of his hand. “No one can survive the third trial.”
“What’s the third trial?” I asked.
Ahmose translated faithfully. The king answered, “You must eat first. Consider it a last meal.”
This time an entirely different meal was brought to us. The sun was setting, drawing out the long shadows of the trees. Villagers exited the huts piling dishes before us filled with smoked fish, some kind of roasted meat with mushrooms, boiled eggs, stewed vegetables resembling carrots with a fragrant spice, honeyed yams, a fruit I didn’t recognize, and a bowl of what were unmistakably termites. The king scooped up a handful of the wriggling bugs and popped them into his mouth, munching happily. A few escaped his lips, but he tucked them back in, licking his fingers as he did so.
Avoiding the termites and the mysterious roast, I picked at the yams and carrots and nibbled on the fruit while Ahmose lifted up the entire plate of fish and went to town. The musicians came back, this time dancing wildly with a frenzy that made me nervous. It reminded me of the crazy, drugged dancing of the natives before they sacrificed the blond girl to K
ing Kong.
After wiping my hands on my khakis, I asked again, “What’s the third trial?”
The gleeful king, without taking his eyes off the dancers, answered the question, translated by Ahmose. “Not too bad,” he said. “Just need to defeat Ananse.”
“And Ananse is…?” prompted Ahmose.
“Ananse is very hungry. Not as bad as snake, but nearly. She doesn’t like ghosts, though. No. What she craves is flesh.”
The king finally looked our way and grinned, his sharp teeth gleaming in the light of the fire. “Ananse lives on far side of jungle. When she stirs, we sacrifice a woman. She likes woman flesh the best.”
I gulped. “Woman flesh?”
Ahmose pressed again. “What exactly is Ananse?” he asked intently.
The king blinked. “Ananse is giant spider.”
Folding my arms across my chest, I said, “Sounds like your Calabash Trials equal death, death, and, oh, surprise, more death. I don’t think we’re going to keep playing your game.”
Ahmose didn’t translate. He stared at me with a mixture of you-probably-shouldn’t-have-said-that and unabashed pride, his gray eyes crinkling as a corner of his mouth lifted. When I raised my eyebrows and gestured for him to do something, he let out a breath. Ahmose expressed my sentiment correctly, even if he didn’t have the same huffiness in his tone that I’d had in mine. The king tilted his head, considering my words. There was no doubt the man was sharp-witted and enjoyed taunting us.
I’d come across men like the king before at my father’s parties. Granted, those men had had million-dollar smiles and imposing statures, but the diminutive islander royal that sat next to us nibbling bug du jour was no less shrewd than the guys in expensive suits in New York City. In fact, he was probably smarter than most of them and certainly more confident.
The king sipped from a bowl filled with a hot and fragrant liquid. Curls of steam lifted from it, smelling of fresh and not-unpleasant spices. I caught the scent of something resembling cinnamon or perhaps anise. If we were offered any, I might be tempted to try it. His craggy face appeared younger, smoothed out by either the steam from the tea he drank or the glee of pondering our demise.
“Once begun,” he said between sips of tea, “the Calabash Trials must be concluded. Your man agreed to the challenge, if I recall. You are both bound to finish what you start, dangerous as it may be. My people don’t take kindly to those who go back on their word.”
“Go back on our word?” I countered. “It’s not like we had a choi—”
Ahmose placed a hand on my knee and interrupted, “Then, if you have no objection, we’d like to meet this Ananse as soon as possible.”
“Of course. Of course,” said the king.
“Ahmose,” I hissed, grabbing his arm, “I don’t think this is a good idea. We’re wasting time here entertaining this guy when we should be looking for your brothers.”
“I know it seems that way, Lily,” he answered quietly. “But this king and his village are the only things I’ve found so far on this island that don’t have a broken path.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“I don’t know exactly. It’s just that when I studied the possible paths after I saw the calabash gourds, one path shone brightly. I think I know which one to pick if we could just get to the choosing part of this game.”
“Okay, but to get there we have to defeat a giant spider. Not something I wanted to cross off my bucket list, if you get my drift.”
“I’m not sure what a bucket list is, but facing a spider should be no different for us than facing the ants. In fact, I would imagine it might be easier, since we’re only dealing with one creature.”
“Okay, I can see how you might think that, but in every movie I’ve seen with a giant spider—”
What’s a movie? Ashleigh asked as I tried in vain to halt the replay of Arachnophobia in my brain.
I sighed. “Never mind. The good news for you guys is that you haven’t got fixed mental images thanks to Hollywood versions of long-legged things that go bump in the night. Maybe this giant spider won’t be all that bad,” I said, attempting to convince not only them but myself. Tia wasn’t creeped out by spiders at all, and Ashleigh actually liked them. She’d even had a pet spider at one point in the netherworld and, in fact, had woven its web fragments to make herself a sleeping hammock.
Apparently, I was the only one in our group freaked out by the idea of a giant spider wanting to consume my flesh. I threw up my hands. “Fine. But if we get eaten, expect to hear I-told-you-sos until our untimely demise on this island of death.” The big man by my side gave me what should have been a reassuring smile, but I refused to be comforted in such a situation.
I wasn’t some dumb blond actress who screamed about bugs, but giant spiders? I wasn’t an idiot. When Godzilla comes to Manhattan, New Yorkers are smart enough to head out of town. This felt like a get-out-of-town situation. Seemingly, I was the only voice of reason in the group, and no one was listening to me.
The little king stood up and clapped his hands. “You will leave your weapons here.”
“I don’t think so,” I said, tugging my bow as a warrior yanked it off my shoulder.
“We will keep your weapons safe,” the king assured us.
Since Ahmose wasn’t really giving me a choice, I reluctantly assented and watched my weapons disappear into the king’s hut. Two soldiers came forward and wrapped our wrists together with a homemade rope that chafed. I raised my bound wrists to Ahmose and gave him a deadly look, then reluctantly followed him and our captors into the jungle again.
When we arrived at the designated spot, a tall wooden pole in a small clearing, the short man led me right up to it. He made a big show about binding me to the pole, girl-being-sacrificed-to-King-Kong-style. At any point I probably could have knocked him over with a slight push, but I gamely went ahead with everyone else’s wishes. I grunted and tried to kick him in the shin as he pulled my ropes tightly enough to hurt. When he believed I couldn’t escape, he went to help his cohort.
Meanwhile, Ahmose was actually aiding his captor in locating a tree he could be bound to. “Come on. Really?” I mumbled under my breath. As far as I was concerned, this little game had gone on long enough. After Ahmose was tied up sufficiently, my guy hit some sort of hanging bell. “Nice,” I said as he soon skedaddled out of the clearing. “Ringing the dinner bell. Could we be any more obvious?” I shouted after his retreating form.
The canopy of trees shook, and I glared at Ahmose from across the clearing. “Just so you know, I totally blame you for this,” I hollered.
“All will be well, love,” he called back to me across the space between us.
“Uh, no. You don’t get to shout endearments at a time like this!”
“Just concentrate. Use your power,” he said, lifting his voice in such a way that it was soothing but understandable. I wrenched my body to try to break my bonds, but the ropes were too tight.
Can’t wait ta see the beastie, Ashleigh said.
I, too, am curious, Tia added.
“Just shut it,” I said, angry at everyone about our predicament, and finally settled myself against the pole. “Concentrate.”
Closing my eyes, the three of us channeled our power. But before the link was complete, a tree branch snapped. I looked up and gasped when I saw a giant, hairy, brown leg emerge from the trees and lower delicately into the clearing. Once down, the thick limb resembled a thin tree trunk, and I blinked, wondering if my imagination had conjured it. Then another leg followed, and another.
Cold fear shot through my veins, and my mouth went dry. Why were the people I loved such idiots? Tia and Ashleigh were clamoring in my mind, but their voices felt distant, as if they were muffled or trapped behind glass. I couldn’t get past my fear to hear them. The long legs lifted and set down again. All I could do was watch their progress. I didn’t dare look up higher. I didn’t want to see the mouth, the fangs, or a bunch of eyeballs reflec
ting my image.
Ahmose shouted from across the clearing, but his words also had no effect. Finally, the legs stopped moving. Two of them had passed over me. Two were on the edges of my peripheral vision. Now that they were closer, I saw the tips of the legs ended in a hard, pointed casing like a claw that sunk into the ground. I felt the creature’s presence. It was ancient and old, and as it watched me my skin prickled. Once again I was in over my head, and there was nothing I could do about it. The air stirred. It was cold against my sweaty skin. All the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
The legs quivered, and I wasn’t able to stop myself from looking up. The body of the spider was hairy, too, and a bit darker than the legs. The abdomen was huge, with protruding nubs on the back that I thought must be the spinnerets. It lowered itself until its head and body almost rested on the ground. On either side of me long feelers twitched. Finally, I looked straight at the creature.
A half dozen or more black jewels winked from a hairy bed on top of the head. It took me a moment to realize they were eyes. Greenish lumps adorned the back of the spider. They looked like a cross between mushrooms and moss. I wondered if that was natural or if it was just a growth, a result of Ananse making the jungle its home.
Two thick, jointed jaws as big as a pair of doors twitched open and closed like kitchen shears, and a long, black fang hung from each one. A drop of white liquid oozed out of one. I trembled and pressed my back into the pole. King Kong was looking pretty good right about then. The giant gorilla had nothing on this spider.
The creature shifted the feelers, reaching out to probe me. It took everything in me to swallow back the scream. The feelers didn’t hurt, but they were bristly and got caught up in my hair. The tips felt a bit like the pads on a dog’s paws as they ran across my arms and swept over my neck. The feelers moved back, and the head came closer. I noticed the fangs were not only sharp at the point, but they were razor-edged on both sides. I swallowed thickly as the thought occurred to me that the edge might help the creature dismember the girls it ate.