DELETED SCENES

Listen More, Talk Less

Ever since the tidal wave that thrashed the coast of Lagos, Nigeria, there had been a protocol for any sightings of the Orishas. These weren’t official protocols. They couldn’t be found in some directory of the United Council of Magical Peoples or within the rulebook of Ifa Academy of Tomorrow’s Diviners. It was a pact between two people. 

A pact between TJ Young and his former Headmistress—Elder Adeyemi. 

That agreement spiked through TJ’s mind as he stared blankly at the lake below him. Between the ripples was a smiling face of an Orisha who called himself Oshosi. And that Orisha had just made a claim that TJ was somehow responsible for the death of Thor. 

Had this been a few years ago, TJ wouldn’t have been able to imagine himself in such a circumstance. A few years ago, the most eventful thing to happen to him on a Friday afternoon was being graced with pepperoni pizza that wasn’t cold in the middle at his ordinary school. These days, messages from ethereal beings were a regular occurrence. 

Still… being told you were the key reason for a Norse God’s death was out of the ordinary. 

Even for him.

TJ peered over both his shoulders to the Nigerian forest around him—a forest that rested within the campus of Ifa Academy of Tomorrow’s Diviners. He’d been alone, save for the chirping birds and the insects that skitted over the lake. 

He peered down at the image of the Orisha in the waters and asked cautiously, “Um… can you say that again? I think you’ve got the wrong guy. I’ve never met Thor before.” The closest TJ had come to anything related to the Norse pantheon was a few months ago. “I mean… I did go to the Frost Realm to get Yemoja’s gemstone. And I did melt an ice giant—but that was by accident!” 

Maybe that ice giant had housed part of Thor’s essence?

Yes, I am sure, mortal, the Orisha Oshosi said in an echoey voice that bounced inside TJ’s mind. And your responsibility in Thor’s passing is a bit complicated. I’ll explain it on the way.

“Huh? ‘Explain it on the way’? What’s that mean?” 

Like I told you. The Court of All is summoning you. The Orisha had a deep baritone to his voice, like someone from an old radio show, smooth, peaceful, and chill. 

TJ shook his head. “Um… sorry, but I can’t just up and leave. In fact, I’m supposed to tell Elder Adeyemi when an Orisha makes contact with me.”

Oshosi flitted his long fingers in annoyance, making the water underneath ripple from below. Very well, then. Hold me in your palms and take me to this Elder Adeyemi of yours. TJ fixed the Orisha with a questioning look. Well, go on then, eh? Scoop up the water in your hands and let’s get a move on. These High Judges won’t wait for me forever. Shango needs you. 

“Wait!” TJ’s eyes lit up. “You’ve seen Shango? Where is he? We haven’t seen him in months since he helped us with Olokun’s tidal waves.”

TJ is reluctant, but Oshosi reminds him that Shango was there for him when he fought Olokun. Now he needs to favor returned. 

TJ asks how they’ll get over there. Oshosi says through the water, of course. TJ isn’t so keen on water. Is there a way to go through an earth portal or a fire portal?
Oshosi: Unfortunately no, the Court of All is connected to water only via the Golden Fountain. If you could do what you did at Eko Atlantic, that means you have the ability. You just have to fight through the fear. Deep breaths, you’re not the prey, you are the predator. Hone yourself, hold your heart. 

TJ, how to feel or not feel. Cut off completely or feel all the emotions.

Remember speaking to his Dad about getting through his fears in life. When he was thrown into a pool. 

Just as TJ is ready (there needs to be consent) he is yanked down. He screams. 

Like I said, I’ll explain everything. Now cup your hands, scoop me up, and let’s go!

TJ straightened at that, knelt on his knees, ran both his glove-covered palms through the water, and lifted Oshosi’s face from the lake. The Acting Headmistress’ office wasn’t far away. 

***

The insistence of the Orisha sloshing around in his hands spurred TJ on as he hurried to the office of the Acting Headmistress. He was surprised that water wasn’t leaking through his fingers or falling over the sides of his hands. The benefits of magical liquid, TJ supposed. That didn’t stop Oshosi’s complaints, however.  

Orunmila’s Stars, mortal, could you be any more clumsy? I’m getting seasick over here.

“My bad! My bad!” TJ slowed his pace, doing his best to keep the water in his hands as level as possible. It was difficult with the unbeaten forest path he took—a shortcut to his destination. 

Great! Now you’re going too slow!

“Sorry! Sorry!” TJ trotted this time, but he wasn’t sure how he would keep a steady pace without his palms moving too much.

Oh, my word. Remind me to note this to the Courts. There’s no way a mortal of your low skill could possibly be responsible for the demise of Thor. This is very good for your case.

TJ was used to being criticized for his lack of magical skill. He had started magic school three years later than most of his peers and he was a bit of a slow learner. But he thought he had made a lot of improvement over the last school year at Ifa Academy. He barely knew this Oshosi outside of his studies—which indicated he was a Hunter Deity and a champion for justice—but he wanted to prove he was a mortal well above “low skill.” 

TJ was always having to prove himself.

“Hold on, I got an idea,” TJ told Oshosi as he spied a few leaves from a willow jostling in the late afternoon wind. In TJ’s vision, the wind around them flared with light, a light only he could see—the physical manifestation of Ashe unique to his sight. Ashe always inundated the whispering willows they traveled through, and TJ always had a better time of pulling from preexisting magic, rather than the energy within himself. 

Using his peculiar abilities—and thinking back on his air-stepping lessons from Teacher Omo of Fon—TJ sapped the wind from the leaves to empower a set of wind-steps ahead of him. He made sure to keep his upper body stiff and balanced as he let his feet fly free. He rose higher and higher in the forest canopy as he picked up speed. It was a skill he was most proud of, something he had worked out tirelessly for the past several months. And his movements were as smooth as silk.

Now that’s more like it, mortal! 

TJ tried not to show his smile as he darted from tree to tree, leaf to leaf, until they reached the cavern entrance of the Headmistress’ office. Once TJ set back on solid ground and into the cave, cold air ran over his arms. Goosebumps raised on his skin; he’d never get used to that. A short walk later and they entered a wide space full of stepping stones within an underground lake. Floating blue crystals lit the area with gentle light. At the far end was the backside of a waterfall that let in the afternoon glow.

The cavern office had once belonged to Elder Adeyemi before she was let go for endangering students’ lives—namely TJ’s. That might sound pretty bad, but she was a good elder. Wise and powerful. She still hadn’t reclaimed her position as Headmistress though, which was now occupied temporarily by Teacher Omo of Fon. Teacher Omo was a fae creature with a tiny voice and a mean disposition. TJ hadn’t liked her at first, but he had started to come around to her after his many private lessons with the aziza. 

Surveying the surrounding space, TJ frowned. He couldn’t find the diminutive instructor or her distinct butterfly-like wings anywhere. Perhaps she was hidden behind one of the rocks, reading a book or a scroll. So TJ called out, “Acting Headmistress. Teacher Omo of Fon. Are you here?”

There was no verbal answer. Instead, a rumbling came from beneath the lake near the stone island at the center. This did not surprise TJ, as he had grown used to bookshelves and storage for magical items lifting up from below. But no books or artifacts revealed themselves. 

TJ’s gasped, taking a step or two back.

A great big horse with a long neck decorated with the spots of a giraffe rose up. Two sharp yellow eyes pierced TJ straight through, making his shoulders tighten. When the whole body of the beast revealed itself, barely enough space for its crocodile-like body to rest atop the central island, it spoke.

Ah… it hissed in TJ’s mind. Tomori Jomiloju Young. Just the student I was looking for.

TJ’s body relaxed, and he groaned. Why was he such a magnet for the strangest creatures and beings. And why was a great beast in the middle of the Acting Headmistress’ office?

Ninki Nanka

Along with the amalgamation of the beast that sat in the cavern office, several birds descended from above. A blackhawk rested on the creature’s ear, and a red-eyed owl found purchase near the creature’s tail. Even an orange cat sauntered from the side, nuzzling its head into the beast’s crocodile hand. 

Ninki Nanka! Oshosi sang from the water in TJ’s hand. Glad to see you’re still running things around here. Mortal, set me down just there.

TJ’s skin tickled through his gloves as Oshosi tried to wiggle away from the valleys of his palms. Not wanting to feel that odd dance on his hands, TJ obliged and dumped the Orisha into the pool. As soon as the water touched down, Oshosi’s face spread wide and lifted up in a blue glow that appeared very much like someone speaking in a water bowl, only way, way larger.

“Oh, yes, this is much better.” Oshosi sort of shimmied and mist flecked off from his large water face. His voice sounded different now. It wasn’t inside TJ’s head. Instead, it reverberated off the cavern walls—though it still had a disembodied quality to it. “Gotta love proper enchanted water, eh? Ninki Nanka, can you hear me?” 

Oshosi, the giant hodgepodge of a beast though-spoke, how long has it been? A few centuries?

“Oh, more than that, I’m sure.”

The large giraffe head tilted to one side as though mimicking a gesture of curiosity. I’ve been told the Great Separation is coming to a close. I was wondering which of you Orishas would return first.

“It seems like Eshu, Olokun, and Oya beat me to the punch there. I’m sure you heard about all that business on the coast, eh?”

Indeed, I did. Most unfortunate for the mortals. I never would’ve thought—

TJ cleared his throat loudly. He had half a mind not to, what with him being in the presence of an enormous horse-giraffe-crocodile beast and an Orisha who disturbed his alone time to accuse him of killing a god. But they had some explaining to do here. 

Where’s the Acting Headmistress, for one? TJ thought. 

TJ instantly wanted to take back his interjection because the large creature stuck its giraffe face mere inches from his own to say, Oh, sorry, young Tomori Jomiloju. Where are my manners? I am your new official Headmistress. You may address me as such, or you may call me Headmistress Ninki Nanka of the Wolof if you’re feeling long-winded. 

“Um…” TJ trailed off. “What happened to the Acting Headmistress, erm, ma’am—I mean—uh… Headmistress.”

TJ hadn’t expected Elder Adeyemi to be permanently replaced. A part of him felt a bit sad at the news. It’s true she endangered TJ and his friends, but not without cause. It was that or doom tens of thousands of people to death on the coast. Plus, TJ was at fault for not telling Elder Adeyemi the whole truth last year. Even with all the dangers they were put through, there were many who lost their lives for all the trouble… 

I believe Teacher Omo of Fon is ‘in transit’, as it were, Ninki Nanka explained. She’s transporting her items from this office back to her own lodgings near the treehouses. She’ll return shortly.   

TJ fidgeted with a loose thread in his dashiki uniform, eyeing the waterfall at the back of the cavern. “And um… you said you wanted to see me?”

Why, yes. I wanted to have a conversation with you about your unique relationship with your previous Headmistress.

The Oshosi water face did another jerk and cast off more mist that flecked on TJ’s cheeks. “Previous Headmistress? You’re telling me you took a break from the job, Ninki?”

I was in retirement, yes. Deep in the lake not too far from here, in fact. The board called on me once more. And with magic stirring up in the world again as it once did in times past, I thought it might be best for us primordial beings to take to the helm once more. The Headmistress placed one of her crocodile hands over the other like a lounging cat—the orange fuzzball next to her a miniature mirror image. Which reminds me… I haven’t asked. Oshosi, what brings you to the Mortal Realm? And why aren’t you with us in your full form?

“One,” Oshosi answered, “despite Eshu no longer ‘manning the gates’, the Great Separation still doesn’t allow me to manifest fully. But communicating seems to be working perfectly fine. At least with you and the boy, who I’m told isn’t entirely mortal.” That was definitely true. No one understood what power TJ possessed, but it was neither of the Mortal Realm nor the Orisha Planes–yet both at the same time.  “Two,” Oshosi pointed his sharp chin to TJ, “I’ll need to borrow the boy for a case I’m working right now out at the Court of All. Some business with the Asgardians. Just need the boy to help me clear Shango’s name. Shouldn’t be very long.” 

There Oshosi went again. How was TJ supposed to clear Shango’s name? What was he even supposed to do here? 

The Headmistress licked her lips in thought with her long black giraffe tongue. Hmmm, that might be an issue, old friend. That’s one of the primary topics I’m to discuss with Tomori Jomiloju. He’s been traveling between planes too freely, without proper guidance or schooling. 

“And if I hadn’t been prematurely dismissed, perhaps Tomori Jomiloju would’ve been better prepared.” The gentle voice lifted TJ’s spirits. It was a voice he had found solace in time and time again—Elder Adeyemi’s. 

Suppressing a grin, TJ spun on his heel to find the former headmistress at the mouth of the cave leading back out to the academy grounds. She wore yet another dazzling set of robes, as she always did. Today’s fit included dark robes decorated with pink dahlias that shifted in the “wind” depicted in her clothing. At her shoulder hovered a fae creature, an aziza who was impossibly beautiful despite the scowl that was always plastered on her face.

“Elder Adeyemi! Teacher Omo!” TJ said, perhaps too loudly. “What are you all doing here?” 

In answer, Elder Adeyemi lifted an hourglass-shaped vial filled with blue liquid. “Just returning some spirit water that belongs to the official headmistress, now that I’m in early retirement.” 

“Do my eyes play tricks on me?” Teacher Omo of Fon flew over the lake, right up to Oshosi’s floating head. Then she prostrated mid-air. “Ancient One, you’re a bit foggy to my vision, but you are the Great Hunter, yes?”

“Ah! An aziza.” Oshosi beamed. “I’m very glad to see your kind haven’t lost your spiritual touch. Most mortals in this realm can’t see me for trying.” Oshosi gestured to Elder Adeyemi, who stared just to the right of where the Orisha was—like a blind person searching for a voice. “Case in point.” 

The Elder prostrated along the stones beneath her. “Orisha Oshosi, I am honored to be in your presence.”

TJ wondered if Adeyemi could at least sense a smidge of his spirit. After all, she was looking in the general direction of where he was, and TJ had seen her do some incredible things with magic in the past—like read people’s minds and fight off a half dozen Keepers despite her being a senior citizen.

Ninki Nanka cleared her disembodied throat. Thank you for bringing that for me, Simisola. 

The new headmistress wiggled her fingers, and the vial between Adeyemi’s fingers jostled. TJ thought he imagined it, but it seemed as though she held onto the glass tightly, fighting against the magical tug. And then TJ knew without a doubt that there was a slight resistance between the woman and the creature. TJ legit saw the silent battle play out in the mist of Ashe only he could see between diviners and magic users.

Elder Adeyemi gave TJ a slight glance, and as though she knew exactly what TJ had witnessed within those few seconds, she cut off her Ashe and allowed the vial to be pulled. Red blotches colored her ears in what appeared to be embarrassment, though her expression was entirely neutral.  

There was a story behind the relationship between Ninki Nanka and Elder Adeyemi, and TJ wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to find out what that was.

How long has it been, Simisola? Ninki Nanka asked once the vial floated its way onto her stone desk. 

“Oh,” Adeyemi shrugged, “Thirty-three years almost to the day, but who’s counting?”

The room grew still, suffocated by an uncomfortable hush. Eyes darted and throats cleared as words failed to bridge the chasm of unease.

“Awkward reunions are some of my favorites,” Oshosi began, “but Themis and her cohorts await me at the Court of All.”

Ah yes, the Headmistress answered. We were discussing this situation. Simisola, Omo, apparently our student here is being summoned to testify on behalf of Shango with regards to Thor’s recent demise.

Omo of Fon’s wings twitched. If she had been a more animated personality, she may have even gasped before saying, “Thor? He’s gone? That can’t be true. How?”

The earnestness of her voice sent a spike through TJ’s chest. He didn’t have a context for the death of gods but there were fables and myths about Asgardians dying all the time, right? The question now was who had the power to kill Thor?

Probably another deity… TJ thought, his thoughts to Shango. Elder Adeyemi quelled those thoughts quickly though. 

“If Thor is gone… it could mean only one thing… Jörmungandr…” she said the name as though a spirit left her body.

“The prophecy of the Norse came true.” Oshosi nodded solemnly. Omo of Fon translated for Elder Adeyemi. “That giant serpent got Thor good, got him clean, as Shango tells it.”

Be that as it may, Ninki Nanka started, there’re still a few days left until the school term ends. So young Tomori Jomiloju is officially under my care. As I was saying before… I do not wish to send a student away that is unprepared. 

“Do you fear losing your precious position so soon?” Adeyemi asked in a challenging tone.

Oh, no. I would love very much to go back to my hibernation. Unlike some in this chamber, my intentions are for the betterment of my pupils, not personal glory.

TJ clapped his hands, rubbed them, and let out an awkward chuckle. “Yeah… I’d rather not go if that’s an option. Every time I cross over to any of these planes, I tend to make things worse.”

Ninki Nanka twisted her long neck to Oshosi. Can it not be arranged for these deities to come to us here in the Mortal Realm instead? 

“Unfortunately, no. They’ve got this thing called the End Realm. The War Realm. Pretty complicated magic to transport all those essences here. I don’t even know how Shango managed it, to be honest. Even if Thor gave him a piece of the bifrost.” 

Elder Adeyemi’s brows knitted together, so TJ translated. 

“TJ, you must heed this call if it will help Shango,” Elder Adeyemi said after he finished. 

TJ really didn’t want to go, didn’t want to be responsible for yet another failure. Olokun and the drowning of Eko Atlantic were bad enough. He was still having nightmares. All those colossal waves. The screams. Why did it have to be him with the special powers? Couldn’t the deities figure something out instead? They had divine magic and all that stuff. They couldn’t just host a cosmic conference call or whatever? 

TJ wanted to say all these things. If he was in a bolder mood, he might have. If he were a bolder person, he definitely would have. Instead, he just let out a, “Is it… really necessary for me to be there?”

“It’s ordained by the Fates,” Oshosi explained. “And a few recent events have the Justice Council wanting to mend a bridge with them instead of continuing to burn it. We should heed these terms.” 

“Still, it could be too dangerous for the boy,” Teacher Omo chimed in. “His Healers say he’ll need far more time to recover from his last meeting with the Orishas.” She floated near TJ’s side. “Did you explain our sessions? The situation with your hands, Mr. Young?”

“What’s wrong with his hands?” Oshosi questioned. “He seems to be fine.”

TJ pulled off the gloves he used to cover the discolorations that stretched from the tips of his fingers to the middle of his forearm. “Yeah… I’m technically paralyzed in my hands, according to the healers. But Teacher Omo of Fon’s been teaching me to move my fingers with wind magic.”  

Oshosi squinted. “And how did this happen?”

“I… uh… broke a plane between the Mortal Realm and the Aqua Realm without any help. No giant alligators, no golden chain. The healers say my mortal body couldn’t contain the magic.”

Thus, the need for proper training before we have him involved with the ethereal realms again, Ninka Nanka reiterated.  

Oshosi pursed his lips. “There’s one other thing I’ve left out…” He let a silence hang for a moment as he seemed to gather his thoughts and words. “The Council is humoring the idea of invoking the Channelling on Shango.” 

The chamber went dead quiet, punctured only by the audible gasps from Ninki Nanka and Teacher Omo.

“What?” Elder Adeyemi took a frantic step forward. “What is it?”

The other two were too frazzled to answer, each searching for breath. So TJ tentatively answered, “Oshosi said something I’ve never heard before. He’s saying the other deities want to, um… ‘invoke the Channeling on Shango’?”

What could that be? It didn’t sound so bad. Heck, just last year TJ and his friends invoked an essence transfer ritual that freed the Orisha Oya from a staff she was trapped in. 

Teach Omo of Fon was the first one to catch her breath to explain. “The Channeling is one of the worst things the Gods can do to one another. I’ve never heard of it actually being invoked before. I thought it was just a myth.” 

“Oh, it’s still rare but it’s used more liberally these days in the End Realm. It’s the only way to keep up the fighting forces.”

“I still don’t understand,” TJ said as Omo of Fon translated for Adeyemi. “What is a channeling?”

“I’ve never heard of this either,” Elder Adeyemi admitted. 

TJ threw his eyebrows up at that. Somehow, it made him feel better that he and the former headmistress shared in their ignorance. 

It’s a draining ability, Ninki Nanka explained. One needs the power of several dozen powerful deities for it to work. Essentially, they will absorb Shango’s very soul so that his power can be used even after his… well… the best way to explain it would be... His total and utter disintegration.

TJ’s whole body shivered. “Like an execution?”

“Worse than that.” Teacher Omo held her heart now. “All traces of Shango would be gone. His power, his link to his divine children, all of it. With him lost to the Channeling, the diviners here on the Mortal Realm would be significantly weakened.”

Like Ayo… TJ thought. His best friend apparently had a direct bloodline to the Orisha. And he loved his lightning magic more than anything. There was no way Shango deserved anything like that or the diviners who followed him. And if Shango was gone… maybe Ayo would never wake up from the coma he was in now. 

“I’ll go.” He nodded with an air of earnestness. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. But this was important. “Let’s clear Shango’s name. As soon as we can.”   

If the Channeling is on the table, so be it, the Headmistress conceded. Just be extremely safe, young man. You’ve already been through enough for divinerkind. She turned to Oshosi’s giant head. How will the boy be transported?

Oshosi quirked his water brows. “Well, it seems like he can craft his own paths, but I’ll help him along this time around.” 

TJ swallowed. “Thank you, Orisha Oshosi.”

“We’ll notify your friends and family,” Omo of Fon said. “You’ll be back before we have to tell them.”

“So we have a deal,l then?” Oshosi asked. “I can have the boy returned no later than the next full moon. He’ll be back before you’ll miss him.” 

Very well. The Headmistress nodded gracefully with her long neck. I look forward to continuing our conversation, young mortal. Do be safe as you cross the Planes.

Before TJ could answer her, his arm was pulled into the cave pool by an invisible force, and his gut got left back in the office.

Operation Stormbreak

TJ, Manny, and Ayo stood with open jaws after they entered a vast circular room. The centerpiece was a massive table, its surface alive with glowing schematics of the Court of All. Like the private desks outside the room, the wood seemed alive, and the command center resonated with a gentle, rhythmic sound of cascading water from an elegant waterfall at the back, adding a soothing ambiance to the otherwise intense atmosphere.

At the center of it all was Elder Adeyemi. Gone were her usual dazzling robes, replaced today by the colors of a UCMP official—navy with gold trim, woven in an exquisite aso oke design. It was a stark reminder of the seriousness of their mission. TJ had only seen her in the garb a handful of times before. He definitely preferred the twinkling robes of floating lilies or whimsical starfields of shooting stars.

Around the elder sat several individuals, a mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces. Among those unknown to TJ were three other UCMP officials from different corners of the world: a large, bearded man draped in a himation, a clear indicator of his Greek origin; a Hindi woman adorned in a vibrant sari; and a man whose attire resembled that of a Viking warlord, signaling his Norwegian roots. Like Adeyemi, all of their varied outfits were homogenized under navy and gold colors.  They conversed in low, urgent tones, their expressions a mix of concern and determination as they turned their eyes up to the trio and Teacher Omo of Fon who led them.

TJ’s gaze then shifted to the group of people he recognized. His mother, with her distinct palm-tree high locs, sat beside Ayo’s father, who was the spitting image of Ayo, albeit with short-cropped hair instead of braids. Oracle Ruby sat just to the side of Elder Adyemi. Her green-dyed locs were tucked away into a navy-and-gold headwrap. Then there was a woman who could easily be mistaken for an older, light-skinned version of Manny, her deep dimples prominent even in her serious demeanor, her long, straight black hair in stark contrast to Manny’s curls.

“Manny, who’s that?” TJ asked.

“That’s my Tía Teresa,” she mumbled back. “Remember my cousin who died,. Jessica?”

“A little bit…” TJ admitted. He didn’t remember the name but he did remember how a cousin that looked very much like Manny showed herself in that submarine when they encountered Yewa in the Aqua Realm.

“Well,” Manny said, “that’s her mother.” 

A flurry of thoughts and questions raced through TJ’s mind. Why were their family members gathered here, and what role did they play in Elder Adeyemi’s plan? The things the former headmistress usually had them do werewas dangerous enough. TJ didn’t know how he felt about involving their families. But maybe it was better if they had full knowledge of what their children were getting up to. 

The presence of such a diverse and influential group only heightened the gravity of the situation though, and it made TJ sweat. He exchanged glances with Manny and Ayo, finding mirrored expressions of confusion and apprehension.

"What is Elder Adeyemi getting us into?" TJ whispered to them, his voice barely audible over the hum of conversations and the gentle sound of the waterfall.

Before they could ponder further, Elder Adeyemi stood up, her gaze sweeping across the room, commanding immediate attention. “Welcome, everyone,” she began. “We have much to discuss and even more to prepare for. Operation Stormbreak is not just about rescuing Shango and Oya; it’s about preserving the very essence of our magic and heritage.”

“That’s right.” Oshosi’s large face appeared within the waterfall at the back of the room. “It’s the only choice we have. These past two mortal months since Tomori Jomiloju’s… disappearance, I have tried every diplomatic path I know. Themis and the Court of All refuse to release Shango and Oya, and thus, the channeling continues. They won’t have long. Less than a mortal year at most. So we’ll need to take them back by force.”

Teacher Omo of Fon translated for Oshosi’s voice, which, among the group, only she and TJ could hear. 

“Come again?” Mom asked from her seat. “Disappearance? I was under the impression Oshosi was overwatching my child this whole time.”

“That was deliberate,” Oshosi answered. “When you mortals hear of such cosmic events, you tend to think the worst and… what’s the phrase you use these days… freak out?” After Omo of Fon translated, Mom made a fist over her end of the desk, to which Oshosi added, “I knew the boy hadn’t passed if that’s the worry. The Fates have been showing themselves more often lately. And after Shango’s trial, I suspected they had something to do with young Tomori Jomiloju. What’s more, I consulted Yewa at her graveyards when I could not find the boy in the Mortal Realm. And she verified he hadn’this mortal body had not expired. It is my understanding that the young mortal here, Manuela, did the same in her own way.”

Manny blushed. “Yeah…” She seemed to be avoiding the eye -contact of her tía at the end of the table, who was giving her an extreme side-eye. There was probably a story there. 

“So all is well.” Oshosi smiled, clearly thinking that would quell all the tension in the room. It didn’t. Still, Elder Adeymi pressed on.

“Be that as it may,” she began, “we have other business to attend to. Children, if you would, could you please take a seat next to your family members?” TJ, Manny, and Ayo obeyed. Once they were seated, Elder Adeymi stood up to say, “Everyone, welcome to New Ile-Ife. This operation is under the jurisdiction of the United Council of Magical Peoples, but it will not officially be under the record for reasons that will soon become clear. That is why our team is so small. Those outside the room have limited information to avoid leaks. All those within, however… will be subjected to the tongue-tied trance.” TJ saw Manny and Ayo gulp. They both had intimate knowledge of that curse. 

Elder Adeyemi lifted a hand to the other UCMP officials. “Let me introduce to you some of my closest colleagues, who are joining us from across the globe. Priya Kapoor of the Awan enclave,” The Hindi woman tilted her head, her adornments clinking, “Erik Dahl of Greystone Academy,” the Norwegian guy grunted, “and Yiannis Petros of the Old Hellas SanctuarySantuary.” The Greek man held a hand over his heart with a short nod. “What we are about to propose to you today is highly dangerous but of the utmost importance. Agent Kapoor, if you would.” 

Elder Adeyemi sat down as Priirya Kapoor stood up. She was an older woman, probably around the same age as Adeyemi. “Hello, my fellow cohorts,” she said, “I wanted to be a part of this because of what has happened to my own people. I’m devastated to hear that your deities of the storm have been compromised. And from the reports it would seem like that this Channeling is sapping from your divine children as well. In our past, it was said that Shiva’s spirit had long left our world. Thanks to Oshosi, it has been confirmed that Shiva indeed was lost to this war against these… God Eaters.” Oshosi’s eyes pinched and he nodded, water casting from his forehead. “And Shiva, being a patron of fertility, is why we believe that today, the Sorcerers of Awan and our sister enclaves are near to extinction. We do not wish this to happen to you diviners of the storm as well, down the line. And I will help your team in any way I can.”  

“Yes,” Yiannis, the Greek man added, “we’ve been told the same has happened to Zeus. And our lightning users have diminished greatly because of it. We serve as a cautionary tale to your people.”

The Norwegian, Erik Dahl, cleared his throat. “Our magic works a bit different. There isn’t a worship loop as there is with your pantheons. But with my guidance, I hope to help young Ayodeji with the lightning rune that was given to him by Thor.”  

“I thought that’s why I was here,” Ayo’s father cut in sharply. “It will be me who will shepherd my son during this operation. We are trueborns of Shango. Our line is a direct one to the Great Hero.”

Oh, right… TJ remembered how stern Ayo’s father had been when they were all in a meeting similar to this at the New Ile-Ife embassy. Only then they were discussing the Olokun attack on Eko Atlantic. 

This Erik Dahl didn’t seem phased, however, as he answered, “Your role in this mission will be vital, yes, Mr. Oyelowo. But that ring around your child’s finger has little connection to Shango or the Orishas. As you say, you are a trueborn, so your knowledge of how to work with the ring or the ‘Uruz’ rune would be quite limited. Do you not agree?”

Ayo’s hands had been resting on the table. But as soon as the topic of his ring came up, he hid them under the table instead.

Mr. Oyelowo looked near to a scowl. “Maybe that’s the reason our magic of the storms is waning as diviners. Because we are not paying enough homage to our great ancestors, instead, casting them off for other pantheons and their trinkets, which we have no business interacting with.”

“No, unfortunately, that’s not quite it,” Oracle Ruby chimed in. “It is the Channeling doing that. We may be able to counter some of that. Buy us some more time with some extra worship. But it won’t be enough.”

Mr. Oyelowo groaned. TJ didn’t think he was buying it. He likely thought they could pray this problem away.

“Let us return to our primary objective,” Elder Adeyemi began, her voice firm yet calm. “Our plan of attack must be precise and well-informed. This map,” she gestured to the detailed layout before them, “shows only what Oshosi has seen, from the judgment room to the halls leading to Shango and Oya’s cells.”

At her cue, Oshosi’s image shimmered within the waterfall at the back of the room, his features sharp and focused. “Indeed,” he confirmed, his voice echoing through the command center. “I’ve traversed these halls as far as I could, mapping the path from the judgment room to where our Orishas are being held. However, beyond that, much remains unknown, though I do have my theories of what we’ll encounter.”

He paused for a moment, allowing the gravity of his words to sink in. “The Court of All is not designed to kill, but to trap. Deities, by their nature, find it challenging to harm each other, at least enough to hinder an escape. It’s easier to confine and drain their powers. This jailbreak will not be simple.”

The map, with its limited scope, suddenly seemed even more daunting to TJ. It was a reminder of the unknown challenges that lay ahead in their quest to free Shango and Oya. The group, now refocused on the mission, leaned in.

Oshosi’s voice continued to echo through the room as Teacher Omo of Fon translated. “The first gate you will encounter is known as The Hall of Echoing Truths, designed by Forseti, the Norse God of Justice. It’s a corridor where your words and thoughts will be tested for truthfulness.”

Erik Dahl grunted in recognition. “Forseti’s challenges are always about integrity. In this hall, any falsehood will manifest physically as a dark spirit. It won’t be easy to navigate.”

Mr. Oyelowo frowned. “Easy enough, my boy always speaks the truth, as does our whole family.” Ayo gave his father a doubtfuldoubleful sideways glance, which Mr. Oyelowo thankfully did not see.

“Be that as it may,” Mr. Dahl said. “These spirits are safeguards. Understanding them and our group is key to our success.”

Oracle Ruby cleared her throat. “Let’s focus on how we can use our strengths to overcome these challenges, loves. We need unity, not division.”

TJ tried to keep up. A Hall of Echoing Truths didn’t sound so bad, though. He and his friends went through something similar with Yewa in the Aqua Realm. But if their parents were involved, that might add a complication. There was plenty he kept from Mom. He glanced at Ayo and Manny, wondering how they would fare. Ayo had always been blunt, but honesty under duress was different. And Manny... she tended to get cagey, but he was unsure what her relationship was with her aunt. She never talked about her much. 

TJ’s thoughts were interrupted as Oshosi addressed the group again. “We’ll need to prepare mentally for what lies ahead. This is just the first of many challenges. At some point we’ll encounter a second task, this one from Yamaraja. The Wheel of Reincarnation. It is a maze that defies logic, with its walls adorned in the rich tapestry of life and death.”

As he spoke, TJ gazed at the wooden representation of the labyrinth projected above the table, its walls shifting and changing with the colorful crystals embedded into it. A chill ran through him at the thought of being lost amidst its deceiving turns, confronted by the illusions of past and potential lives.

Priya Kapoor, her expression grave, added, “The labyrinth will challenge your very essence. It’s a test of self against the allure of what might have been, or what could be.”

Manny’s aunt, Tía Teresa, leaned forward, concern etching her face. “But how does one stay grounded against such powerful magic?”

“It’s about anchoring oneself to the present,” Elder Adeyemi interjected, her eyes scanning the faces around the table. “Your resolve, your current identities, and your mission must remain at the forefront of your minds.”

A weight sat heavy in TJ’s gut. The idea of wandering through a labyrinth filled with echoes of lives never lived was daunting. There were so many lives he had wanted to live, especially when under the shadow of Dayo. Would he see glimpses of a life where Dayo was still alive? Something like that could break him.

The image on the table changed from a mystical wheel to a beautiful landscape of open fields. It was a serene and beautiful meadow crafted with enchanting realism. Oshosi’s voice, deep and resonant, filled the room once more as he explained the final gate devised by Themis and the other Greek Gods: The Path of the Elysian Fields.

“This challenge,” Oshosi said, “is deceptively tranquil. The Elysian Fields, recreated by Hades himself, offer a peace that can trap the unwary in a blissful illusion.”

As Oshosi spoke, Yiannis Petros, the representative from Greece, adjusted himself in his seat. “The alluring peace of the Elysian Fields is a test of resolve. It ensnares the mind, luring heroes away from their quests. It’s a reminder that true strength lies not in battle, but in the ability to resist the temptation of eternal rest.”

Mom listened intently, her locs stiff atop her head. “It sounds like a test of mental endurance. How do we prepare our children for such a challenge?”

“I will assist them in that,” Mr. Petros answered, flipping the fabric of his himation over his shoulder. “It requires mental fortitude, an unwavering focus on one’s purpose. The Fields prey on doubt and weariness. Those who enter must keep their mission at the forefront of their minds.”

Oshosi agreed. “The key is to remember why you’re there. Cling to your purpose like a lifeline.”

The idea of being lost in a beautiful lie, forgetting everything important, sent shivers down TJ’s spine. He glanced at his friends again. They had faced many dangers, but this was different. It wasn’t a physical enemy they could fight; it was a battle against their own minds.

“This is great and everything,” TJ spoke up, “but how are we supposed to get back to the Court of All in the first place.” He looked up to Oshosi. “That golden fountain we came through?”

“No,” Oshosi confessed. “The fountain is too well guarded. We’ll need a backdoor instead. Though the fountain will serve as an exit for us eventually.”

“Does a divine place like this even have a backdoor?” Mr. Oyelowo asked. 

“Not exactly,” Grandma spoke for the first time. Everyone turned to her. “We’ll have to use the ancestral paths.” She gave TJ knowing eyes.

“Follow the ancestors,” Elder Adeyemi and Oracle Ruby said at the same time.

“Wait,” TJ said, “so when Orunmila told me that, y’all heard that too?”

“Atop Oracle Rock, yes,” Ruby said.

“We spent many nights there when you were gone,” Elder Adeyemi added. “Listening for everything. Anything. And that message sounded the loudest.”  

Grandma nodded. “When Oshosi explained to us the story of Shango and Ayo, and when Simisola and Ruby had their visions, it got me thinking. Apparently, as the story goes, Ayo birthed himself from Shango’s chest when he was in the Sky Realm. Is that right, young man?”

Ayo shrugged and signed, “I don’t know. I can’t remember anything from the other side. Just the feeling. But yeah… that… that feels right.” 

The discussion made TJ perk up for once. His dream and the message from Orunmila said as much. “That’s right!” he said. “Orumila told me to go through the ancestral path. And my sister has all these notes about it in her journal. Whatever Ayo did must’ve got him in on that same route.”

Oshosi’s smile grew so wide that flecks of water were cast from the waterfall. “Then we are on the right track and Orunmila’s sacrifice will not go in vain. Clearly, this will be our backdoor to Shango and Oya.”

“So…” Manny started to say, “we’ll just have to be ‘birthed’ through each of our Orishas to get directly into their cells? Wouldn’t this Court of All sense that?”

Oracle Ruby came in next. “In theory, they shouldn’t. According to Oshosi, the ancestral path has been largely neglected since the start of the Great Separation.”

“That’s right.” Oshosi nodded. “It should be unaccounted for as far as the Court of All is concerned. We Orishas didn’t give up all our secrets, after all. For example, the Celtic gods chose not to bind themselves to the End Realm, nor most of the Mesoamerican spirits. And don’t get me started on the Abrahamic deities and all the secrets they still hold close to their chests.”

The atmosphere in the command center shifted as Oracle Ruby added a crucial detail to the plan. “It won’t be as simple as just using the ancestral path,” she said, her voice serious. “With Shango and Oya’s magic waning, we can’t rely solely on what worked for Ayo in the Sky Realm. We’ll need a boost to ensure this ‘backdoor’ will work.”

TJ figured that was his cue. “And by boost, you mean me, right?”

Ruby gave him a so-so head gesture. “Partially, yes. But more importantly, we’ll need to tap into the full ancestral tree of both Ayo and Manny, specifically their secondary associations with Yemoja and Ogun."

Mr. Oyelowo bristled at the mention of Ogun. “My family is pure! Ogun has never been a part of our lineage!” 

Ruby countered calmly but firmly. “My oracle readings of Ayodeji last term suggest otherwise. No one diviner is ever so pure, despite what our fellows might believe.” 

Before another argument could erupt, Manny interjected, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “What about my connection to Yemoja? She and Olokun nearly drowned Eko Atlantic. I doubt they’d help us out.”

The room fell silent, the gravity of Manny’s concerns hanging heavy in the air. Oshosi spoke up. “As we said, this wouldn’t be easy.”

Elder Adeyemi rose to her feet once more. “Oshosi is right. This mission is fraught with risks, and…” She took a beat. It seemed like her lips were struggling to form words, to let her say what she was about to say. “And… what I am about to propose will not sit well with many of you. But know that I exhausted all other options before I fostered this… relationship.” She waved a hand toward the waterfall at the back of the room. Oshosi’s face within the water rippled and parted, revealing a figure stepping through the cascading veil.

The collective gasp was audible as the leader of the Keepers, the one responsible for the drowning of Eko Atlantic, for murdering Emeka, stepped into the room: Olugbala. Mr. Bolawe.

Friendship Shield

TJ returned to the Mortal Realm, the cursed mask once again fused to his face. With some effort, he managed to pry the stubborn mask off and flung it to the dusty ground. His friends Manny and Ayo, who had been anxiously awaiting his return, hurried to his side to make sure he was alright after his harrowing experience in the spirit world.

TJ felt incredibly light-headed as he stood under the bright afternoon sun. The light seemed to stab into his eyes, exacerbating the pounding headache he already had. All he wanted to do at that moment was lie down and sleep forever. 

“What happened?” Manny asked

“Was it Oshosi?” Ayo signed. “Was something wrong with Shango?” 

Manny held onto his shoulder and she didn’t realize how much of his weight he was holding up. “Did you see Oya? Is she doing okay?”

TJ explained everything that had happened after Oshosi took him away. It pained him greatly to recall the events, especially seeing Shango and Oya trapped in their chambers, looking near death. TJ was utterly exhausted, both physically and mentally. Just standing up made him dizzy. And he fell in the dirt. Manny kept holding on and Ayo started rubbing TJ’s back. 

“Take it easy, Teej,” Manny said. “It sounds like you went through a lot.”

A sudden idea sprang in TJ’s mind, and he shot up again. Bad idea. He nearly blacked out as he said, “We’ve gotta tell Adeyemi! We’ve got to go back to my family’s well and—”

But Manny cut him off sharply. “No, what we need to do is get your mind off of this. The Orishas might not need rest, but you do, TJ. If we go telling the adults what happened, who knows what other portal they’ll throw you into. We were so worried what happened to you.”

“Nah, I wasn’t worried about nothing,” Ayo signed. “I knew you be a’ight. You always are.”

Manny gave Ayo a stormy look.

“I mean—Yeah, man. Don’t stress. We’ll talk to Adeyemi and the others. Tell ’em what you told us. But you’re not doing anything else right now. Let’s go into the village, watch a drum circle, get your mind off things, eh?”

Manny nodded approvingly. “We’re just glad you’re all right. Let’s get a bite, then after you’ve had some rest, we can talk to the UCMP. You deserve at least that, friend.”

TheTJ felt the last of TJ’shis energy drained from his body. He realized Manny was absolutely right. He gave Manny a big hug, then Ayo a one-armed embrace. TJ appreciated his friends deeply. He couldn’t have asked for better companions. He never imagined he’d find people outside of family that he could love so much..

Over the course of the evening, Manny and Ayo treated TJ to a deity-free night in New Ile-Ife village, lifting his spirits before returning to Ifa Academy. They experienced all the typical teenage hangouts. There was music—Manny and Ayo tried to teach TJ a few dances, but he wasn’t good at it and his heart wasn’t in it. So they stopped for food at Mami Wata’s, cracking jokes with all the mermaid-like creatures at the river-side restaurant. But TJ’s visions from the otherside overshadowed the joy an fervor. Manny and Ayo even took TJ to cafe playing a crossover game. The crowd was wild and full of spirit but TJ could only think about how trivial it all way in comparison to the power of the gods.

TJ couldn’t say he sulked all the time though. Any time he looked near to a frown, Manny would come over and put her arm around his waist to cheer him up. Any time he stopped talking for more than a few minutes, Ayo would materialize with a new snack to try. 

It probably took two hours before TJ truly loosened up, but it was still only half-hearted. He cherished the carefree night his friends crafted for him. He really did. His mind just kept pushing back to all the pressure he’d have to deal with after the night was over. He almost felt like a dog being treated to his favorite things before being put to sleep. The difference was that the dog had no idea what would come at the end of the day. TJ knew exactly what would come. 

The Mask of Oshosi

The afternoon sun hung high in the sky, a blazing orb that bathed the New Ile-Ife village in a warm, golden glow. It was the kind of day that, under normal circumstances, would have filled TJ with a sense of joy. But today, the sun’s cheerful rays seemed to mock his inner turmoil. He stood a few feet from the well that led them down to the secret UCMP command center, along with Mom, Grandma, Manny, and Ayo. As he stood there, the enormity of Operation Stormbreak pressed heavily on his mind, eclipsing any warmth the sun could offer.

He had just gotten over—no, just started the healing process for all that happened at Eko Atlantic. He wasn’t even sure how to process that nightmare, yet here he was being thrust into another major ordeal that even a well-adjusted adult would have trouble handling.

“Well, you get back to Ifa Academy like Elder Adeymi says, honey bunny.” Mom pinched TJ’s cheek, her face a mix of concern. Did she feel the same as TJ, or would she expect him to rise to the occasion? Again. “You have everything you need, right?”

TJ wanted to say more of what was on his mind, but instead, he simply answered, “Yes, Mom.”

“And say hello to Staffmaster Bamidele,” Grandma added. “We’re old friends. For this operation to work, we’ll need to make sure you’re fully attuned with a staff built by your own hands.” She lifted a finger. “Very, very important.” Her forehead wrinkles sunk into her brow. “Do you understand?” 

“Bẹ́ẹ̀ni, iyá àgbà.” TJ nodded affirmatively, realizing then that’s what Elder Adeyemi meant by “his working starting on Monday.” 

“Like Grandma told you, we’ll be just here in the homestead.” Mom thumbed to the courtyard. “Whenever you need anything. Anything. Come to us.”

She was giving him an opening, but TJ decided not to take it. He knew it wouldn’t result in anything. He was uniquely designed for this specific job. There was no real way out of it. Coping with it was the only thing he needed to worry about. 

“No wahala, Mrs. Young,” Ayo signed. “We get TJ’s back.”

Mom and Grandma looked to TJ and Manny for a translation, which they offered.

“Ah!” Grandma said. “Thank you very much, young man. It was good seeing your father out of that office of his for once.”

Ayo signed back. “It happen very rare.”

After a pair of embarrassing kisses from Mom and a nice long hug from Grandma, they all went their separate ways. The comforting presence of Manny and Ayo by TJ’s side was a small solace as they prepared to head back to Ifa Academy, but even their familiar camaraderie couldn’t fully lift the cloud that hung over TJ. 

“How are you guys feeling?” TJ asked as their feet found the main roadw back to the academy. There was more bustle now as village folk mingled among colorful market stalls, enchantments sparkling in the air. The rhythmic beats of drums echoed through the bustling streets as the earthy aroma of rain-soaked red soil permeated the air. “I mean,” TJ went on, “we've been through so much already. Sometimes I wish we could just, you know, be students. I mean, look what happened to you, Ayo.”

“No, man, I very excited for this. To do rescue for Shango? Will be very cool,” Ayo gestured, but clearly his distinct voice was not coming through with his less-than-perfect signing. And that made TJ frown. He was surprised Ayo himself wasn’t more shaken up. Or maybe, like how Manny’s toned arms told of her coping mechanism, feigned enthusiasm was Ayo’s. 

“And, you know,” Ayo’s signing grew more serious, less exaggerated. Even the messaging was clearer. “Maybe this show my dad… Maybe make him see… see that I’m… worthy like rest of family.”

TJ wasn’t very familiar with Mr. Oyelowo. He’d only seen him twice. Both in meeting rooms where they sat across from each other. From what little he gathered, TJ assumed Ayo’s relationship with his father was strained. But to what extent, he wasn’t sure. To say Ayo wasn’t a trueborn of Shango seemed off the mark, though. If Mr. Oyelowo had seen what Ayo was capable of in the Sky Realm, his ability to craft his own lightning portal, he would change his tune. 

Manny laid a hand on TJ’s shoulder, saying, “I understand, TJ. This shit is hard. But someone has to do it. If you—we—didn’t step up at Eko Atlantic last spring, just imagine how much worse that would’ve all been. We gotta stay strong on this. Together.”

Ayo’s cavalier enthusiasm and Manny’s rock-solid support helped center TJ again, made him feel at least halfway okay. He just hoped he could keep it together throughout this entire operation. 

As they passed the Yemisi compound again, a glint caught TJ’s eye. He turned his attention to the courtyard, where Emeka’s memorial was. There was no one around it like before, no grieving twin sister, at least. But there was something odd about one of the Oshosi masks. The wooden face looked as though it was tipped over against the other collection of items. And its eyes were glowing.

“Wait.” TJ stopped his friends. “Do you guys see that, or is this a ‘me’ thing going on right now?”

“What?” Manny squinted in the direction of TJ’s gaze. “What are you seeing?”

“I see nothing,” Ayo signed, giving TJ a blank stare.

TJ sighed. “Yup, it’s a ‘me’ thing. C’mon, I think Oshosi’s calling me again.”

“Ugh, for real?” Manny groaned. “We just saw him.”

TJ shrugged and walked over to the courtyard memorial. He lifted the mask in his hands. The wood was rough around the edges but strong. Green and white feathers lined the corners, with cowries inlaid around the cheeks and mouth. The eyes continued to glow. 

“Well,” TJ said, “Let’s see what he wants.”

A slight flutter of anxiousness fluttered through TJ’s heart as he flipped the mask around and put his face inside. The moment he did, the mask magnetized to his skin, holding the wood in place. His vision bloomed gold, then the bright image petered out until it revealed a beautiful magical forest. 

In the heart of the enchanting thicket, TJ found himself in the presence of Oshosi. This realm, undeniably Oshosi’s, emanated a wild, untamed beauty. Lush, vibrant foliage stretched as far as the eye could see, interspersed with ancient baobab trees whose roots delved deep into the heart of what must’ve been the Terra Realm. 

Just like the Aqua Realm and the Sky Realm, this place was familiar yet different. The air here was so fresh it almost made TJ’s nostrils burn, and he could breathe so easily, like VapoRub was placed over his peach fuzz. Ethereal light filtered through the dense canopy, casting a surreal glimmer over everything it touched. Nearby, a stream babbled melodiously, its waters shimmering with an otherworldly sheen. Oshosi stood regally amidst this paradise, taller than the tallest trees, his presence as natural and commanding as the land itself. 

“Sorry to summon you so soon after our meeting, but there’s been a crucial update.” Oshosi bowed and his enormous headdress brushed against the top of the trees.

“With all due respect, Oshosi,” TJ said. “But I’ve been through a lot already. Is it possible we can push this back until I’ve been at school for a few weeks? At least.”

“We cannot deny the Court of All. Not when we need to remain on good terms with them during this troubling time. And… well… now that you’ve reappeared after a couple of mortal months, the Court needs a few answers. I promise I’ll have you back soon. No more losing months of your life.”

TJ considered the Orisha’s words candidly but he really wasn’t up for any more interactions with deities. “Sorry, Oshosi,” TJ said. “They’ll have to wait.”

Oshosi sighed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t say that. This isn’t a request. This… is a demand.”

TJ’s pulse surged, and he clawed frantically at the Oshosi mask, which clung to his face with an unyielding grip. His breaths came in short, desperate gasps, the sound of his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. He sensed Manny and Ayo nearby, their hands trying to pry the mask away, but their voices were mere distant echoes, muffled and unintelligible.

“I can’t get it off!” TJ’s muffled voice was laced with fear. He twisted and turned, but the mask remained firmly in place, its edges feeling like they were fused to his skin.

Through the eye holes of the mask, Oshosi’s giant figure loomed, his expression somber, almost regretful. “I am truly sorry, Tomori Jomiloju. But the Court of All has insisted. They cannot be ignored.”

TJ’s struggle intensified, his movements becoming more frantic. Manny and Ayo were gripping his shoulders, their efforts to help him increasing in urgency, yet their touch felt distant, as if they were reaching out to him from another world.

As Oshosi spoke, the forest around them seemed to vibrate with a powerful energy. The ground beneath TJ’s feet pulsed. His feet weren’t standing atop the cobbled courtyard anymore. Now they were firmly planted into a bed of quicksand within the Terra Realm. The air around him shimmered with a golden hue. 

“You must face the Court, TJ,” Oshosi continued, his voice softening. “This is beyond our control now.”

The world around TJ blurred, the vibrant colors of the Terra Realm swirling into a collage of light and shadow. A powerful force pulled him deeper into the mask, into the realm itself. Despite his efforts to resist, he was powerless against the pull of an Orisha. 

“Please forgive me for this, child,” Oshosi’s voice was the last thing TJ heard before the sands beneath him enveloped him completely, away from the comforting presence of his friends. The last sensation he had was of being sucked through a tunnel of light, sand slapping across his skin, the mask becoming his new reality as the world he knew faded away.

Golden Pillars, Again

The world around TJ Young churned in a disorienting dance of sand and light. He hurtled through a vortex. A whirlwind of granules pestered his skin like a thousand tiny whispers. As he spiraled helplessly, the sands began to transform, morphing into mud and then into a cascade of golden waters. These waters enveloped him, swirling around his lanky frame in a warm embrace.

There was terrifying beauty to it. TJ spun haphazardly, yet the sensation of the water made him feel at ease. And then the golden waters calmed, and the flow steadied. He sensed a change in the current, a gentle pull toward an unseen destination. 

With a suddenness that left him breathless, TJ spilled out into stagnant air. He landed with a splash in the shallow waters of a fountain the size of an Olympic swimming pool. 

A shall sigh caught in his throat. 

He was among the familiar setting of the Court of All once more.

Gasping for air, he clambered to his feet, water dripping from his clothes. He coughed, eyes darting around to the towering structures and ethereal ambiance of the divine room. The last remnants of the golden water slipped off his skin, leaving him standing drenched and bewildered in the heart of the courtroom.

Why had he been summoned back here so abruptly? Had Shango already been channeled out of existence? The scars on his arm tenses at the thought, and he needed to remind himself of his lessons from his healers to regain control of his limbs via Oya’s Wind. 

No, they’re okay, TJ thought, at least Oya is. 

He pinched his fingers together, rubbed them, a called to Shango’s Lightning, saying, “Manamana ti Shango, wá sí mi.” The feeble bolt between his fingers twitched to life. Feeble, but still there.

The cavernous room felt strangely bare without the masses of spirits and lesser gods who had crowded the space during TJ’s previous visit. He gazed up at the vaulted ceilings, taking in the intricate carvings of Egyptian hieroglyphs, South Asian sanskrit, and cunieform from Old Mesopotamia. The shimmering pillars that seemed to stretch on forever were free of their mechanical guards. Despite its grandeur, the vacant courtroom evoked a sense of loneliness that left TJ unsettled. 

Oshosi emerged from the fountain with much more grace than TJ. And no water seemed to soak his clothing. “So sorry about that,” the Orisha said, staring down at TJ. “If you hadn’t struggled, the trip wouldn’t have been so tumultuous. How are you doing, young one?"

“Oh, just great,” TJ grumbled, “I love being tossed around between realms like a ragdoll. Ten out ten. Would recommend.” 

Though he tried to mask it with humor, frustration seeped into his tone. As his wobbly legs finally found balance, TJ noticed only three giant figures seated at the giant golden stand: Themis, regal and imposing as always with a blindfold over her eyes, the blue-skinned Yamaraja, who appeared distracted as he sat atop his sleeping bull, and the older yet keen-eyed Forseti, whose beard was so long it drooped over the stand like Rapunzel’s hair down a tower. 

Oshosi strode forward with a serious look on his face. “Why have we been summoned here, High Judges?” he demanded, a rare hint of annoyance in his voice. At least his tone reflected the feelings within TJ.

Themis responded calmly. “We must wait for the other judges to arrive before we can begin.”

Just then, the diminutive figure of Eros fluttered up from the tall window behind the judges, his wings beating quickly against the galaxy scape. He looked like a cupid to TJ’s eyes. “I’m afraid the other judges will be delayed,” he squeaked. “They are weary from recent channeling sessions with Shango and Oya. They are resting in their respective realms, High Judge.”

A small grumble escaped Themis’ lips. “Why am I only learning about this now, Eros? These things have to be in order. They must always be in order.”

A flash of anger rushed through TJ. “Y’all really yanked me from my realm without having everyone you need here?”

Oshosi placed a giant finger on the small of TJ’s back. “Be at ease, Tomori Jomiloju. She is just being cautious of the cosmic balance. The judges must all be present to adhere to the primordial laws of justice.”

Great, the gods are superstitious, TJ thought. Then he considered it again. Actually, that makes a lot of sense for cosmic beings.

Still, it didn’t seem like the gods had their act together. Now that TJ gave Themis another look, she did seem a little unkempt in her put-together way. It was like her blindfold was just slightly eschewed on her brow, and her robes seemed to droop off her shoulders in an ill-fitting manner. 

Yamarja spoke up impatiently, his huge horns casting a long shadow through the courtroom. “Themis, I must also prepare for a channeling session. Let us conclude this quickly. This is a minor concern. We need not worry about having all seven among us for this mortal.”

Thankful that Yamaraja wanted to move things along, TJ nodded approvingly. Then the god’s words hit him again. He didn’t like the tone the blue giant used when he said “for this mortal.” It was a tone Oya had used when speaking about Ayo last year. A dismissiveness to mortal life TJ wasn’t a huge fan of. 

Themis’ lip curled slightly in an obvious sign of disapproval. Her hand rested on the stand and it looked close to tapping an anxious beat. A long silence stretched among the group before she relented. “Very well,” she huffed subtly. “We shall begin. But I do not like this, Yamaraja. Not at all.”

“None of us do, old friend,” Forseti croaked. “But these are trying times.”

Oshosi looked at TJ encouragingly, then turned back to the judges. “What do you require of us?”

Themis waved a hand. “As Yamaraja says, it is only a minor matter. Tomori Jomiloju of the Mortal Realm, you have been summoned before the Court of All to answer for your whereabouts for the past couple of mortal moons.”

TJ had nothing to hide with that, so he told the truth of it, how Orunmila forced him from the path from the golden fountain to the Mortal Realm, how the Orisha gave TJ a message about the ancestors. This news of the meddling Fate seemed to trouble the gods, their immortal brows furrowing ever so slightly. 

Forseti stroked his lengthy beard pensively. “These Fates are growing more bold, and their transgressions are becoming far too frequent. First, Anansi comes here and tells us to heed them, yet they only deign to speak to this boy.” He gestured toward TJ. “And what of this cryptic message, ‘Follow the Ancestors’? Have you deciphered its meaning yet, Oshosi?”

Oshosi inclined his headdress respectfully. “No, High Judge. As soon as we uncover the message’s import, this Court will be the first to know.”

Themis’ blindfold zeroed in on TJ, and a strange sensation bloomed within his chest, as if she had unlocked something deep inside his soul. A queasiness took hold of TJ’s entire body, and his heart went slow.

“I sense your unease, mortal,” she intoned, her voice resonating through the chamber. “Speak the truth. What is it you are hiding from us? What truths have not been spoken here?”

Panic seized TJ. How could he lie to Gods? Themis had clearly possessed some magic that allowed her to detect deceit. TJ himself hadn’t realized he was being untruthful, but it was true he knew more about Orunmila’s message than he had revealed. He, Elder Adeyemi’s officers, and even Oshosi were working to forge a path to Shango and Oya, to free them from their unjust punishments via the ancestors. But TJ hadn’t been actively thinking about that, so how could Themis know?

He took a moment to collect himself, swallowing hard. Then he saw it—a faint, mystical cord hanging in the air between him and Themis. With his Ashe, he could normally see magical streams clearly, but this magic derived from another pantheon, so it was more obscure. Like a familiar alphabet in a different arrangement that TJ didn’t understand. Still, he could discern Themis penetrating his spirit. 

That much was certain.

TJ recalled his ability to negate magic, to cloak it. He had done it before to evade Eshu within the thick clouds of the Sky Realm. So he drew on that power, cutting off his own magic and becoming a void. Once he felt stable, he spoke up.

“Got nothin’ to hide,” he stated firmly. “Like Orisha Oshosi said, we’re still figuring out the message’s meaning. In the mortal realm, we’re appealing to our ancestors for guidance, to figure out what it could mean. As soon as we crack it, you’ll know. Promise.” 

Themis’ expression was inscrutable as she gazed at TJ, her blindfolded eyes seeming to bore into his soul. Without his magic activated, he could no longer see the tether between them. He couldn’t tell if she believed him or not. A small fear entered TJ’s heart then. What if Themis could sense he blocked him? 

A tense silence hung over the courtroom. None of the other judges dared speak as Themis continued her probing. Finally, she broke the spell. “Very well then. What theories do you have regarding your ancestors? Surely you must have some inkling.”

Oshosi stepped forward swiftly. “Theories, yes, but far too many and complex to explain presently,” he demurred. “As Yamaraja has said, we seem to lack the time for an exhaustive account.”

Forseti nodded sagely. “It’s true. After The Great Separation, the ancestral bridges were severed along with all others. Many ancestors were shunted directly to Valhalla for the Great War—and other paths of the Honorable Dead where we could find them. But perhaps there is something there still worth investigating. I will dispatch my best ravens to ensure those paths remain closed, as they should be.”  

A tension came to TJ’s chest at the mention of ravens. Would they discover the reconnected ancestral path he and his group were planning to recreate? He could only hope they wouldn’t stray there. 

Once more, Themis’ piercing gaze fell upon TJ. He couldn’t discern if she fully believed him, but it seemed his negated magic had at least prevented her from uncovering his secrets. For now, his omissions were safe from the Court’s prying eyes. Blindfolded or not.

“I think that settles things for now, then.” Yamaraja patted his bull, who stirred awake. 

Forseti nodded in agreement. “Yes, yes, I should tend to my ravens now. Send them off as soon as possible. Thank you for your candor today, young mortal.”

TJ’s mind raced. Maybe they didn’t need to spend all that time figuring out the message and planning. He was here now, in the Court of All. Maybe that meant he was ready enough to take them on. He was able to negate Themis after all. Maybe he and Oshosi could break Shango and Oya out right then and there. The Gods seemed on edge, Themis seemed off her game, even Yamaraja looked drained from his channeling rituals. TJ eyed his bull who yawned loud and long. This felt like an opportunity. And TJ could get his normal life back sooner than later. He took a deep breath and stepped forward. “Of course, High Judge, anytime. But can I ask one more thing?"

Oshosi turned to TJ, surprise flashing in his eyes. 

“Look,” TJ said, “I know I’m just a mortal in the grand scheme of things, but Shango and Oya don’t deserve this. They... they’ve been caught in something way beyond their control,” His voice quivered but steadied with determination. “I understand the gravity of my actions, and I’m not here to defy your authority. But isn’t there some room for mercy? Can’t I see them again? One more time? To say sorry at least.”

Oshosi whispered sharply, “What are you playing at, child?” 

“I’ll explain later,” TJ murmured back. “Just back me up.”

Oshosi bit back a frown before saying, “High Judges, the mortal’s request, though unusual, comes from a place of deep respect and honor. It is, in essence, a final farewell to Shango and Oya, a gesture of dignity for a fellow being who has served well. As his guardian, I find it only fitting to grant this small concession.”

Themis, her expression unmoved, replied with a flat voice. “Oshosi, while your words bear the mark of wisdom, we must consider the precedent this sets. Our decisions are final and have been made after careful deliberation among our divine peers. A channeling cannot be undone onceone it has started.”

Forseti added, “To visit the imprisoned, even for a farewell, undermines the integrity of our judgments, and The Channeling itself. We must uphold the procedures that have long guided us.”

Oshosi’s stance remained firm, yet there was a hint of pleading in his eyes. “I implore you to reconsider. This is not a matter of challenging your rulings, but of allowing a moment of compassion, a brief respite in the face of inevitability.”

Themis shook her head slowly. “Your plea, though heartfelt, cannot sway the course we have set. The finality of our sentences is paramount to maintaining order. I am sorry, but we cannot accede to this request.” Themis did not look pleased, but with a wave of her hand, she dismissed the Court. As a parting remark, she instructed Oshosi sternly, saying, “Make sure that mortal gets back to where he needs to go, Orisha. Hold him tightly this time.”

Oshosi gave a solemn nod. “My grip will be as tight as a hyena’s around a gazelle’s neck, High Judge Themis.” 

With a flash of divine power, Themis and the other judges dissipated like mist. TJ stared in awe as their cosmic forms folded in on themselves, collapsing into microscopic points before blinking out completely. 

Once they were gone, TJ tentatively turned his magic back on. A familiar warmth blossomed within him and he let out a relieved breath, feeling whole again. The exposed scarring beneathbeneated his gloves pulses with a weak light. 

Oshosi rounded on him. “How did you do that?”

“Huh? Do what?”

“Themis couldn’t detect your deceit because Ashe works differently from her magic. But I saw what happened. You became nothing—void in an instant. What was that?”

TJ shrugged. “I don’t really know. I figured out I could sort of ‘turn off’ my magic in the Sky Realm. Or I guess ‘cloak my magic’. That’s a better way of saying it. That was only my second time trying it.”

Oshosi nodded slowly, clearly impressed. “Well, well, you’re full of surprises, aren’t you, young hunter? Let’s make that little void trick of yours standard procedure going forward, yes? Anytime you encounter someone who’s not an Orisha, just shut yourself off. Understand?”

“Yes, sir—I mean, yes, Orisha Oshosi,” TJ replied dutifully. 

“Good. Now, let’s get you back before your friends start making a fuss.”

TJ thought of how panicked Manny and Ayo must’ve been after his sudden disappearance. He tried to imagine what it looked like from their perspective—one moment their friend was struggling with a cursed mask stuck to his face, the next, he was ripped out of existence right before their eyes. 

“So, explain yourself,” Oshosi said. “What was with that plea to see Shango and Oya?”

As they walked back toward the large golden fountain, TJ couldn’t resist peeking at the grand doors at the back of the massive room. “What’s back there?”

“That’s the hall leading to the holding area,” Oshosi said. Then he paused, looking at TJ appraisingly. “Why do you ask?”

TJ looked up, meeting the giant Orisha’s gaze. Even Oshosi had been impressed with how TJ handled Themis. Maybe that meant he was ready after all. 

“If I can hide my magic, and even block others’... maybe we could do the same with Shango and Oya,” TJ proposed carefully. “We could at least test it out.”

The shadow of that hunter’s glare returned to Oshosi’s briefly. “Perhaps…”

TJ could tell the Orisha wanted this over with just as badly as he did. They were so close. Shango and Oya were in this same ethereal building. 

“All right,” Ososhi said. “We’ll go take a quick look, that’s it. I should still have access to the next room. But… this is not a breakout, you hear? Just reconnaissance.” 

“Got it, no breakout.” TJ gave Oshosi an “a-ok” sign. “Just a casual, totally authorized, definitely-not-suspicious stroll to the holding area. Easy peasy.”

The Room of Scales

The solemn chamber was vast and foreboding, its high stone walls and arched ceiling disappearing into darkness. It gave TJ the creeps, his body quivering with fear. The space was bathed in an ambient light that seemed to emanate from the hundreds of huge golden scales hanging overhead, stretching at least a hundred yards across. Their gently swaying motion cast flickering shadows across the room. 

Far below the forest of massive scales sat a pit filled with a gently bubbling acid-green liquid that gave off faint wisps of acrid smoke. The thick air was heavy with a palpable sense of ancient magic that clung to TJ’s skin and filled his nostrils with a strange, metallic scent.

Oshosi stood tall over TJ. This place was meant for someone like the Orisha, not a human teenager. The courtroom was large on its own, but this new room of scales was just as large. Larger. TJ was entirely out of place. Oshosi, however, fit the room perfectly.  

“This room,” Oshosi began, “is designed to drain one’s magic, our Ashe, as we traverse it. Many of my cohorts forfeit crossing this room at all. We deities don’t like being without our magic for long, if you can believe it.” He gave TJ a short smile. “This security system is a way of making sure gods, deities, and spirits can’t do any funny tricks with their magic on the other side where the holding cells are.”

“You mean, like we’ll be doing in a few months?” TJ asked. 

“Exactly,” Oshosi said, pointing to the long stretch of the corridor. “Our goal is to cross while conserving as much magic as possible. Each scale will not lift and let you cross to the next until our magicks are paid. That’s where these special abilities of yours will come in.”

TJ looked around, a mix of nervousness in his darting gaze. He understood the gravity of what lay ahead and felt a new level of respect for the room’s power. 

Gulping, he asked, “And what happens if we fall into the green mud pit?” He had a few guesses. None of them good.

“Then one of the guards will be alerted and we’ll be carted off to our own cells, most likely.”

TJ sighed, his heart thrumming. “Great!” 

“There is a way to make this easier.” Oshosi knelt, his giant form coming closer to TJ as he brushed his fingers along the first scale. “I can see the paths of the previous entities that have crossed through this room. So we can hop on the scales that will sap the least from us, make it easier for you.”

“Okay,” TJ eyed the first scale, which was as big as a giant carousel. At least hopping across would be easy enough. “So how will we do this?”

“I will carry you in my hand,” Oshosi said. “As the scales sap my Ashe, you’ll funnel as much of my magic as you can until we make it across.”

“Ah! Like D&D? I’ll basically be a magical bag of holding.” 

Oshosi gave TJ a blank stare.

“I mean,” TJ explained further, “I’ll act as a vessel to hold your magical energy as we cross, so it doesn’t drain you as much. Then I’ll give it back.”

Oshosi nodded in understanding. “Right, you’ll be a container of magic for me.” He held out his hand. “Let’s begin. This place always unsettles me. I had to cross it several times during Shango’s trial.” The Orisha’s peerless eyes stared up and a deep frown crossed his lips.

“But you’re the Great Hunter. The Orisha of the Forest. I thought you didn’t have fear?”

“You do not live as long as I have without a healthy fear and respect for powerful magicks.” 

TJ nodded. That was fair. Dad said the same thing about snakes whenever they hiked the Hollywood Hills. 

“Come now, child. Let’s start.”

TJ hopped into Oshosi’s open palm. The texture was rough and uneven, almost like a parking lot of gravelly asphalt rather than skin. But that made sense for the Great Hunter whose body was conditioned for the wilds. 

Now that TJ was in contact with Oshosi, he could sense the paths more clearly through Oshosi’s psychometry. TJ focused, scanning the gently swaying scales, trying to find one that would sap less magic as they crossed.

Oshosi offered guidance, pointing out subtle flickers in certain scales. “Notice that, child? It’s less active. I will need to rely on you here. Make sure you see the paths before I take them.”

“No problem,” TJ said confidently. “I see Ashe and magic all the time. I can do this, I promise.”

Oshosi nodded. “All right then, let’s see if this works. If not, we’ll double back the same way and say at least we tried.”

They moved in tandem, Oshosi following TJ’s psychometric instincts at times, leading when the path grew unclear. TJ focused intently, scanning each scale before Oshosi stepped on it, looking for signs of magic that would sap their strength. When TJ spotted flickers of energy in a scale, he quickly redirected Oshosi to a safer path. Oshosi trusted TJ’s sight, allowing the boy to guide them through the maze of dragon scales. Though the journey was slow, their teamwork ensured steady progress. Whenever the way forward became obscured, Oshosi took the lead once more, his ancient wisdom guiding them until TJ could perceive the path again. 

“Your Ashe is easy to grasp, child,” Oshosi noted as they hopped along. “You make this simpler for me.” 

A swell of pride ballooned within TJ. After days of helplessness, it was nice to contribute, to be helpful. It was easy for him to find a rhythm in their shared movement, a growing understanding with each step traversed. TJ also grabbed a deeper hold of how psychometry worked, doing well for his short introduction to it. It was a natural thing for him, not unlike when he used to play basketball and understood the best way to give his teammates the best shots or positioning. And now that he was given a name to the ability it was as though he’d unlocked something that was always there.

But as they progressed, Oshosi offered less guidance, his magic draining. TJ could feel it flowing from the Orisha into himself, a tingling heat in his core. He took in the details around them—the sheer size of the dangling scales, the bubbling pit’s lurid glow below. 

TJ focused intently as he and Oshosi entered the most perilous stretch of the Room of Scales. Though fatigue tugged at the edges of TJ’s concentration, he pushed it aside, hyper aware of Oshosi’s movements and the ebb and flow of magic around them. 

Oshosi quickened his pace, and TJ wondered if he could feel that TJ was starting to falter. The Orisha hopped nimbly from scale to scale. TJ gripped the Orisha’s rough palm, struggling to keep his balance while also suppressing their magic. The mystical scales greedily tried to siphon the power he contained, threatening to tear it from his grasp. But TJ wouldn’t allow it. He would not. He clenched his core, visualizing a vice grip on the magic, unwilling to let it go. 

Each scale required intricate footwork from Oshosi to avoid triggering the most powerful sapping traps. He stepped lightly but swiftly, movements fluid like a dancer, like a hunter. TJ acted as his partner, guiding where to place each footfall through subtle shifts in his posture. A slight lean left, right, forward—each motion steering Oshosi along the safest route.  

And then the final stretch lay ahead, a minefield of scales so sensitive even the slightest ripple of magic could set them off. This required near perfect suppression from TJ and Oshosi both. 

“Wait, give me a moment,” TJ asked as he slowed his breathing, embracing a deep inner stillness. He envisioned his magic not as a wild force to be tamed, but a part of his being to fold inward. Always inward. He couldn’t let the scales know what he was hiding. 

“Okay,” TJ breathed out. “Let’s keep going.”

They crept forward, wary of each step. The very air felt brittle with magical potential. TJ winced as pain lanced up his arms, that familiar tearing sensation. He clenched his teeth, pushing past it. 

“It’s… starting to hurt,” TJ said through ragged breaths. 

“Just a little more. We’re almost there,” Oshosi replied gently. “I think I can jump and skip the next set of scales to the final platform. Hold tight.”

TJ nodded, sweat beading his brow as he focused everything on maintaining control. He peeked down as his glove-covered hands. A sliver of his scarring was starting to expand. This had better be worth it. 

Oshosi tensed, then launched them upward in a graceful arc over the trembling scales below, like a jungle cat pouncing on unsuspecting prey. For a heart-stopping moment, they seemed to hang weightless in the air. Then Oshosi’s feet slammed down on the final platform’s edge. But the impact made the stone crumble, and Oshosi fell backward. 

TJ and Oshosi spun backward. TJ yelled as wind whipped past his ears. His arms flailed; his feet fluttered. They were so close. So close! Now Themis was about to come back and put them in cells right next to Shango and Oya.

Suddenly, a giant foot swept beneath TJ, breaking his fall. TJ grabbed on desperately, realizing it was Oshosi’s sandaled foot that had caught him mere inches from acid-green pit below. TJ could almost actively hear the stirring of magic under the muddy pool, how it wanted its proper payment.

Oshosi lifted his foot and settled TJ over the edge to safety.

“That was close!” TJ gasped, his heart hammering as his back pressed into the cold stone floor. 

“Too close," Oshosi agreed, heaving himself to safety as well. “But we made it!” He flexed his hand and shook out his foot. “It’s been age since I’ve had to use my dexterity like that. Good to know I’ve still got it.”

TJ threw up a thumbs from his laid out position. “Like riding a bike!” 

TJ released a heavy sigh, the tension in his body unraveling as he lay sprawled on the cold stone floor. After the harrowing crossing, it felt good to just be still for a moment. He closed his eyes, tuning into the ebb and flow of magic within him—Oshosi’s power that he had shielded during their journey across the scales. Carefully, he allowed the suppressed energy to flow back out, returning it to its rightful owner. The wisps of Ashe funneled from his chest and back to Oshosi’s large form. The slip of magic was like dropping a heavy backpack after a long hike, a literal weight lifting from him. He opened his eyes to see Oshosi standing over him, the Orisha’s form seeming to grow more substantial as his power was restored. 

“Well done, TJ,” Oshosi said, offering a finger to help pull the boy to his feet. “You’ve got the heart of a hunter. You didn’t let fear hold you back.” 

TJ smiled wearily, brushing dust from his clothes as he stood. “A little hard to be afraid when I’m exhausted and everything is happening so fast.” A sense of accomplishment kindled a small flame of confidence within. “Couldn’t have done it without you leading the way.”

Oshosi lightly tapped a finger against TJ. “We make a good team, young one. But come, let’s not dally. Now that we’ve crossed, we can go to see Shango and Oya.”

Dying Storm, Rainbow Prism

It took a few moments for the magic-suppressing effects of the Room of Scales to dissipate from TJ’s body. Its void-like sensation lingered like a static charge against his skin. He flexed his hands once, twice. The scars along his exposed arms glowed subtly as TJ and Oshosi passed beneath the arch of the next room.  His Ashe reacting to the changed ambiance of magic. 

The lighting changed almost instantly. No longer surrounded by the strange ambient green mixed with gold of the Room of Scales, but a completely expansive and borderless galaxy of purple, blue, and red hues stretched before them for endless miles.

When TJ used his Ashe vision, his special sight revealed sections and form to the borderless landscape. In the first section, ethereal light spilled across the floor, casting a network of neon grids that pulsed with life, illuminating prism-like archways. 

Oshosi eyed him curiously. “You can see them, can’t you? Everything.”

“Yes,” TJ replied, his jaw slack. 

“What kind of mortal are you?”

TJ shrugged. “One of a kind, I guess.” He looked around the strange borderless room. “This is wild. How many spirits do they have up in here?”

“Too many.” Oshosi frowned. “Themis and the Court of All are losing their grips. We’ll be fighting within before we face the full force of the God Eaters. Mark my words.”

“Damn…” TJ shook his head. 

Oshosi knelt and touched the transparent floor. Wisps of Ashe blossomed from his fingertips and throughout the floor, marking a path to Shango and Oya with the least amount of obstructions. TJ hadn’t even noticed the mini-labyrinth that led to the jailed Orishas’ chamber until Ososhi used his path reading.

“Come,” Oshosi said. “Before the mechanical sentinels come strolling through—or the room starts attacking us. I’m not sure how much my previous authorizations will hold up.”

As they made their way through the maze, TJ tried not to gawk at the creatures and spirits they passed, like the Naiad Shadows who were trapped in a cube of water, or a pair of living trees who seemed to be playing a game with acorns to pass the time. None of them seemed to know Oshosi or TJ were there, but TJ could sense their magical presences. 

Moving forward, the hall transitioned into a silent, crystalline cave, its jewel-toned cliffs standing as silent sentinels, their cracking forms a shimmering canopy that refracted overhead. On his left turn, a towering Rakshasa from Hindu mythology caught his eye, its fearsome visage marked by sharp fangs and glaring eyes. It clawed at the air, its tiger-like growls echoed through TJ, stirring a primal unease in the pit of his stomach. 

The third section they entered was awash with deep, pulsating crimsons and soothing pinks, where the walls seemed to breathe with a life of their own. The colors bled into each other like a sunset captured within the very fabric of the space. In this majestic and unsettling expanse. And on their third right turn, a wraith-like Banshee from Celtic lore, with its pallid, flowing robes and hair, hovered above the ground in its cell, its mournful wail stretching long within the confines of its chamber. Its cry forced TJ to cover his ears, less from the sound of it and more because of the eeriness. 

Farther along, a grotesque red-eyed skeletal figure TJ didn’t recognize from mythology followed his every move as they walked on by. It was the first of the demon spirits to seem to sense TJ and it made his breath hitch. The more his fear seemed to build, the more it seemed to make the demon stir with glee. It tormented TJ with a rictus grin as it clacked its teeth menacingly. 

Finally, they approached Shango and Oya’s holding chamber. Just as strange as all the rest with its ever-changing glass-like surface. And like with the others, TJ could see the glowing essence of the Orishas. Oshosi whispered to the seamless wall, something in a language TJ didn’t recognize. After a moment, there was a click that echoed throughout the cosmic hall, and a split opened between the smooth glass wall. 

“Good, my authorization still works,” Oshosi said. “The enchantment I used during Shango’s trial is still in operation. Go on, take a peek inside. We’ll not have much time.” TJ nodded and stepped forward, but not before Oshosi stopped him with a single, large finger. “Remember, we’re only here to test things out. Test the defense. Nothing more, eh?”

“Nothing more,” TJ said in earnest. 

“Just suppress your magic like you did before,” Oshosi instructed, “and happy hunting.”

TJ nodded again and stepped into the room. It was an ethereal space like all the rest. Though this one housed two egg-shaped prisms with hard edges. And within the odd structure, Shango and Oya floated in what seemed like a suspended sleep. But their eyes were completely open. Worst, they seemed entirely aware, and they were staring straight at TJ.

How could the Court of All do this? This was completely inhumane. The Orishas were clearly suffering through this whole process, looking sickly and drained. TJ felt deeply disturbed to see the once powerful deities in such a state. And they had only been here for two months!

“Tomori Jomiloju, we’re not here to stare,” Oshosi said. “Let’s keep it moving, young one.” 

“Right, right, sorry,” TJ said, turning to Oshosi over his shoulder, quivering. “It’s just... a lot.” He turned back, his lip trembling before saying, “S-Shango? O-Oya? Can you hear me? Are you all right?”

TJ stared up at the Orishas, still taking in their new dour states.

Once radiant with divine might, Shango’s muscular form that had pulsed with the power of thunder now hung limp and ashen. TJ had barely known him but even in their brief time together in the Court of All his once bright eyes were striking. Now they were dulled to a faint glimmer beneath furrowed brows. 

Oya, the tempest incarnate, who had danced with the winds and commanded the storm, was now reduced to a mere wisp, her vibrant, colorful burgundy garb faded and her breaths shallow, as if the very gales she had woven were snatched from her lungs. 

TJ stood there, the sight clawing at his chest—a cruel theft of grandeur. These were his Orisha. He couldn’t let these other deities get away with this. For much of his life he hadn’t cared much for the Orishas, hadn’t felt a part of their tribe. But over the past couple of years he felt like he was one of them. And seeing two of his own in such a sad state made him want to tear their prism cages down.

Relax, Teej, he thought to himself. This is just recon. Save it for the actual mission.

Fixing his face, TJ searched the room. He quickly found the chains that bound the Orishas to their enclosure. Like everything else in this place, the chains were invisible to TJ’s ordinary eyes, but they glowed bright in his Ashe vision.

TJ placed his hand on one of Shango’s chains, hoping to get a sense of what he and his team were dealing with in terms of the Court of All’s defenses. At first, using Psychometry, TJ could see how Themis, Yamaraja, Forseti and the other gods had locked Shango away. He witnessed the ritual they used, felt how they had built it around Shango’s chains to sap him of his essence. 

TJ dove deeper into the magic and saw what Shango was seeing in that very moment. It was strange. It was like Shango was dreaming of an everlasting battle, shoulder to shoulder with a man who’s hair was red-ish blond. Thor? Were they sapping Shango’s Ahse by forcing him to use all his might in his dream state? Is that how they were forcing the energy from him, by tricking him into exerting himself? He touched Oya’s egg and saw her battling something against tidal waves, back-to-back with Shango. TJ couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like part of The Channeling involved extracting the greatest power of each Orishas: their warrior spirits. TJ couldn’t be sure. But it was good information to log away for later.  

“You okay in there, Tomori Jomiloju?” Oshosi called out.

“Yeah, I just gotta go deep to figure this out,” TJ replied. “I think I know how to save them. Just… give me a minute.”

But as he dove deeper, TJ lost the image and sensation of the ritual. That everlasting battle Shango was fighting had diminished. Instead, TJ’s vision jumped to the present. He could see himself touching the chain and Oshosi standing watch, as though he were having an out-of-body experience. 

Then the vision changed again. TJ was hit with a grim image—dark shadows crawling out of galaxy clouds, a crumbling temple of gold falling from an asteroid field, and an image of his sister painted in the stars. Dayo’s voice shouted “No!” loud in his head. 

TJ tried to call back but he couldn’t, unable to speak. Before he could do anything, TJ was suddenly thrown back into reality, gasping as the vision released its hold on him.

“What happened?” Oshosi peeked his head into the room. “Are you all right?”

TJ’s heart pounded with a deep fear as he shook his head. “I don’t know. I had a vision. There was too much to process. But it didn’t feel good.”

Suddenly, alarms blared throughout the chamber, an otherworldly and eerie sound. The prism structures warped and stretched, wrapping around TJ and Oshosi’s ankles as if the prison of prisms had come alive. 

“Do something, mortal!” Oshosi called out. “Do something!”

“I’m trying! I’m trying!” TJ's pulse raced, knowing they had been caught trespassing in this sacred and forbidden place. He tried his best to cloak his magic, to stop the mystical energy empowering the glass clasping around their ankles. But it was new magic, different magic. He didn’t know how to reverse, sap, or stop it. The crystalline prisms continued their fast creep up his legs, threatening to envelop them completely. TJ exchanged a panicked glance with Oshosi. “I’m sorry!”

It only took a few moments before the pounding feet of Yamaraja’s galloping bull sounded. Another moment for the blue-skinned god to arrive at the scene of the crime. It wasn’t long before Themis showed up, the train of her long white robes making her look like a ghost. Forseti was last to arrive with the light jog of an elder. 

Yamaraja’s blue skin turned purple with rage before he bellowed, “What is this? What have you done, Orisha?”

Themis’ voice boomed in concert, “What are you doing here, young one? Have you compromised The Channeling?”

TJ raised his hands defensively. “No! No, I swear I didn’t do anything. I just wanted to see—”

“No more lies!” Themis thundered.

TJ instantly suppressed his magic under Themis’ blindfolded glare. He couldn’t do anything else, but he could do that, at least. 

Forseti checked the egg-shaped prism containing Shango and Oya. He, like Oshosi, spoke a language TJ did not understand. Eventually, he turned to the group to say, “The child did nothing. The Channeling is not compromised, my friends.”

Themis inhaled deeply, relief carved deep into her forehead. When she let it out, it was as though the whole universe exhaled with her. “Good… good.”

Oshosi spoke up. “Please, this was my doing, Honored Themis. I only wished to provide some solace to the boy before Shango and Oya were taken from us. We meant no harm. I meant no harm.”

Forseti’s normally calm demeanor turned. He wasn’t angry like Yamaraja or Themis were, but his tone was certainly stern. “We have been extremely patient with you Orishas. But this trespass cannot go unpunished. Yamaraja, take Oshosi to a cell, please.”

Yamaraja scowled sadly. “It must be done.” 

He snatched Oshosi from his trapped state. TJ couldn’t be sure but it seemed as though the Hindi god cast a spell on Oshosi to stop his movements. When the blue-skinned giant was satisfied with his spellwork, he lifted Oshosi from his trap and flung him onto the back of his giant bull. It looked as though Oshosi were a common bandit in the Old West. As he was taken away, Oshosi called out, pleading for the gods to release the blameless TJ.

Themis scowled, the folds of her blindfold creasing. “This does not help your case, child. Not at all. The next time you’re summoned to this court, it will be your last. Do you understand?”

TJ nodded vigorously, fear flooding his heart. “Y-yes, High Judge. I-I’m so sorry, High Judge.”

Themis growled, then used her giant fingers to pinch TJ’s collar, moving with preternatural swiftness. Before TJ could take one last look at Shango or Oya, Themis was forcing him down a shortcut through the halls, past the maze as though she were its architect. Then they were through the Room of Scales, traversing it in a quarter of the time it took TJ and Oshosi to cross it. And then in a flash, they were back at the Golden Fountain within the Court of All, where Themis flung TJ straight into the golden waters. 

As TJ tumbled through the vortex, Themis’ echoing words reached his ears: “If I see you in this court again, mortal, I’ll Channel you myself.”

***

TJ returned to the Mortal Realm, the cursed mask once again fused to his face. With some effort, he managed to pry the stubborn mask off and flung it to the dusty ground. His friends Manny and Ayo, who had been anxiously awaiting his return, hurried to his side to make sure he was alright after his harrowing experience in the spirit world.

TJ felt incredibly light-headed as he stood under the bright afternoon sun. The light seemed to stab into his eyes, exacerbating the pounding headache he already had. All he wanted to do at that moment was lie down and sleep forever. 

“What happened?” Manny asked

“Was it Oshosi?” Ayo signed. “Something wrong with Shango?” 

Manny held onto his shoulder and TJ hadn’t realized how much of his weight she was holding up. “Did you see Oya?” she asked. “Is she doing okay?”

TJ explained everything that had happened after Oshosi took him away. It pained him greatly to recall the events, especially seeing Shango and Oya trapped in their chambers, looking near death, being forced to fight in their endless nightmares. TJ was utterly exhausted, both physically and mentally. Just standing up made him dizzy. And he fell in the dirt. Manny kept holding on and Ayo started rubbing TJ’s back. 

“Take it easy, Teej,” Manny said. “It sounds like you went through a lot.”

A sudden idea sprang into TJ’s mind, and he shot up again. Bad idea. He nearly blacked out as he said, “We’ve gotta tell Adeyemi! We’ve gotta go back to my family’s well and—”

But Manny cut him off sharply. “Nah, what we need to do is get your mind off this. The Orishas might not need rest, but you do, TJ. If we go yappin’ to the adults about what happened, who knows what other mess they’ll throw you into? We were worried about what went down with you…”

“Nah, I not worry,” Ayo gestured in a way that made his tone come through, even with his poor signing. “I know you be okay. You always okay.”

Manny gave Ayo a stormy look.

“I mean—Yeah, man. No wahala. We talk to Adeyemi, and others. Tell what you say to us. But you no do anything now. Let’s go back academy, just relax, play Major League Crossover, make you forget things, yes?”

Manny nodded approvingly. “And let’s get you a bite to eat. Then, after you’ve had some rest, we can talk to the UCMP. You deserve at least that, friend.”

The last of TJ’s energy drained from his body. Manny was absolutely right. He gave Manny a big hug, then Ayo a one-armed embrace. TJ appreciated his friends deeply. He couldn’t have asked for better companions. He never imagined he’d find people outside of family that he could love so much, but here he was. 

Back at the academy, Manny and Ayo grabbed TJ a bowl full of puff puffs and a steamy mug of tea. They found themselves a patch of grass near the river where they could crack jokes and watch the herons skid across the water. TJ lounged along a tree, mostly watching than participating, even as Ayo pulled out his Crossover board to play. TJ almost felt like a dog being treated to his favorite things before being put to sleep. The difference was that the dog had no idea what would come at the end of the day. TJ knew exactly what would come. 

Thankfully he was too tired to let the stresses of the Court of All pile on. The last thing he remembered, he was nodding off on Manny’s shoulder as she and Ayo started up their third match.

Staffcrafting

They continued walking through the natural maze when TJ asked Ayo, “Has it been hard building your staff?” 

Ayo pressed his lips together as though he were saying “um.” Then he signed, “We... not build our staffs yet. Today first time we actually gather materials. First month we spend attuning to crystals and wood types.”

“You’ve not noticed that SS1 level classes are a bit different from what you’ve done before, love?” Oracle Ruby asked as she cleared away more thick brush with a wave of her hand. 

“Yeah, I have,” TJ confessed. “They’re way easier.”

“That’s ’cause the teachers reckon they gotta keep your noggins open for them crafting sessions. Most of what you’ve been doing’s been all theory and not much hands-on, right?”

TJ nodded. It was true that the classes felt more like discussions of magic rather than demonstrative uses of it. He certainly welcomed the change of pace. It meant making a fool of himself a lot less often. 

“That’s because,” Ruby went on, “your classes this term will all funnel directly back into the creation of your staff. The most powerful tool for we diviners—especially as you two sprout into young men.”

“It’s a rite of passage,” Ayo explained, signing. “Like getting licenses for wheeled vehicles, but better.”

“Did you mean driver’s licenses?” TJ asked, questioning Ayo’s signing.

“Y-y-yeah. D-d-driver’s…” Ayo began to stutter, but stopped when Ruby peered over her shoulder curiously. She didn’t give him a bad look, but it still made Ayo red around the ears. Ayo dropped his head, forcing his braids to fall over his glasses.

“That’s right.” Ruby said, ignoring Ayo’s bashfulness. “So, tell me, TJ. Have you noticed a common theme among your classwork this term so far?”

TJ searched through his mind, recalling each session from his new teachers. In SS1 Alchemy, there was a particular focus on attuning to the ingredients they used. Last year, they mostly had to commit common recipes to memory, which meant a lot of rote studying. TJ greatly preferred the action of attunement because it was easy for him to pick out the right choices, as though he could sense the best ingredients instead of remembering them from books. Perfectly in line with his natural abilities.

“Teacher Falana said he never saw anyone make better selections than me for my alchemy studies this week,” TJ said.

“Good,” Ruby returned, “that’s good to hear. What else?”

TJ ducked under a low-hanging car-sized branch before an image came to mind. In SS1 Ecology, he was able to easily enter the minds of several baboons to determine which fruits were their favorite. 

“When Teacher Goodall had us working with baboons,” TJ said, “I was the only one who knew that the group we were working with preferred mangoes over apples.”

“I had a feeling that would be the case,” Ruby said, “considering the type of diviner you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“Staff crafting isn’t something you’ll be wrapping up within a single sesh, not even two. You’ll be tooling and retooling, searching—and re-searching—for the entire rest of the term until you build the perfect staff for your specific needs. It's proper spiritual, but you, TJ, you’re something special on that front. Missing a few weeks of attunement shouldn’t be a biggie, in my estimation.”

“Wait…” TJ put a hand to his head. “I only skimmed the list. I thought there were only a handful of steps to build a staff. Thought it would take a month, not months.”

With Oshosi jailed and with Shango and Oya being channeled, TJ needed a staff sooner rather than later. The spring equinox was still a little ways away but he was hoping he could have a few months with his staff to practice before shipping of to the End Realm and the Court of All. 

“Remember how long it took your grandma to check your sister’s staff last year?” Ayo signed. “And that was for a staff that was built and tuned. It’s going to take a minute to craft ours, bruh.”

TJ dug into his backpack and pulled out the sheet going over the lesson plan for staff crafting. It read:

Stage 1: Self-Discovery*

Stage 2: Material Gathering*

Stage 3: Design and Builder’s Plan*

Stage 4: Staff Crafting*

Stage 5: Infusion Period*

Stage 6: Martial Training* 

Stage 7: Final Trial*

TJ had assumed the seven stages were separated by a day. But then he realized that each had an asterisk that led to more information at the back of his parchment. Some of the stages were as long as six weeks on their own!

When he looked back up at Ruby and Ayo, his mouth dropped.

“Bet you fifty cowries he no read the footnotes,” Ayo signed.

“He definitely didn’t read the footnotes,” Ruby agreed.

“There’s no way I’ll finish a staff in time,” TJ said. “The equinox is coming before we’re scheduled to finish our staffs this year.” He pointed to the “martial training” section, his heart in his throat. “This alone is supposed to take place at the end of March and all through April next year.”

And why would you need to rush your staff crafting, Tomori Jomiloju? The voice sounded loud in TJ’s mind—Ninki Nanka’s voice. A shiver ran through the whole of TJ’s body. She was really making a bad habit of sneaking up on him. TJ turned to find the Headmistress poking her head through the thick vines. She looked right at home among the dense forest. Appropriately sized. She dwarfed Elder Adeyemi’s old cavern office, which almost seemed too small for her. But this forest matched her perfectly. Even her movements were sure-footed despite what seemed like crowded conditions for TJ and the rest. 

TJ was quite literally speechless, so he was glad when Ruby spoke for him. “Hello there, Headmistress,” she said. “Were you visiting with Madam Koi Koi and the bush babies?” 

Why yes, I was. Ninki Nanka smiled. They grow restless but I have settled them. Your previous headmistress did not frequent this part of the campus enough, it seems.

More shade thrown at Elder Adeyemi. What was up with those two?

TJ’s ears perked up again, hearing for those creature sounds he had heard in the forest before. Now that he was listening more intently, he did think he heard the strange cries of bush baby young. Good thing he knew the antidote to bush baby boils. 

“I’m just escorting these loves to Bamidele’s next session,” Ruby said, “getting TJ up to speed since he missed so much.”

Ninki Nanka’s reptilian eyes seemed to bore into him as she spoke. Remember, Tomori Jomiloju, the craft of your staff will reveal more than your skill; it will unveil your essence. I, along with others, will be watching closely.

Her words sent a chill through TJ despite the humid air. He would rather do without all the attention. It was bad enough he had the UCMP and Elder Adeyemi relying on him. Now he had the eyes of the new monstrous headmistress and “the others” she mentioned. He knew why he was always being watched. He knew it was because he was special and unique, but it still sucked. 

As the headmistress faded back into the brush, TJ was left with a swelling sense of doubt. What would his staff crafting reveal about him? Did he really want to bear his inner self to this audience of hidden watchers with agendas unknown?

Ruby gave him a reassuring smile, but it did little to lift TJ’s mood. He felt utterly alone as they neared the crafting site, his anxiety growing with each step. He steeled himself, resolving to face whatever was to come. But the impending trials filled him with as much dread as determination.

Realm Radios

Tore Stadheim nodded, unfazed by the pronouncement. “I’ve been working closely with Oracle Ruby so that we can maintain communication once you all cross over. I’ll be assisting telepathically, in case the team discovers anything related to the Asgardian magic in the realm, runes and the like.” 

Ruby withdrew a collection of necklaces with green crystals on their ends. “And I’ve created what I call a ‘Realm Radio’—headpieces imbued with enchanted crystals so we can talk from here in the command center to there in the realm.” She turned to TJ. “Elder Adeyemi said you were able to hear the outside world when you were there before, but everything was in reverse?”

“Yes,” TJ confirmed. Last time he was in the Frost Realm, things were a little off, unfinished. Fear sliced through him as he remembered having to fight that ice giant while receiving jumbled up directions. Hopefully today’s operation would go much more smoothly. 

“Hopefully, my little invention will fix that,” Ruby said, handing out the crystal necklaces. “I’ve been working on them ever since TJ disappeared that first time. These will let you communicate clearly.”

Ruby and Mr. Stadheim were already wearing theirs. The gentle blue light of the table projection barely caught the crystal fractures, making them sparkle faintly. As Ayo eagerly put on his necklace, Bolawe nodded in approval, saying, “Yemoja has been most pleased ever since she completed work on the realm. That’s fortunate, since you’ll be meeting with her soon.”

Ayo’s eyes lit up, but he said nothing more. TJ fingered his own necklace. It was light but somehow heavy, as though the pressure of their mission was bringing him down. He hoped the crystals would work as promised. His Ashe vision revealed a short pulsating mist casting off the crystal. But would that work once it crossed over? 

A Date of Cheese

“Come on, one last stop,” TJ said, leading Manny toward the dockside restaurant—the Mami Wata Eatery. The exposed wood beams and nautical decor gave it a cozy, romantic ambiance. Strings of lanterns had just been lit, their flickering light reflecting off the gentle rippling water.

They were seated at a table right at the railing overlooking the river. A contented sigh escaped TJ’s lips as he soaked in the stunning scenery.

“I always love coming to Mami Wata’s," Manny breathed. “It always feels so... magical.”

As if on cue, a trio of mami wata emerged from the lake below, their luminous tails shimmering iridescent blue and green.

“Li'l twin!” they chorused happily, waving to Manny with a splash. 

“Love the space buns today,” one of them said.

“And those two braids framing down your face!" said another.

“Perfection!” said the third. 

Manny greeted them enthusiastically, her dimples caving a mile. The mami wata always fawned over her hair, which was usually big, curly, and as unruly as theirs. TJ took the opportunity to excuse himself, pretending he needed to use the restroom. In actuality, he snuck outside to place a quick text.

Pulling out his phone, TJ text: 

TJ: hey we just got seated

TJ: ur girl is still coming yea?

Ayo: yea yea right by the docks. 

Ayo: 8PM sharp

Ayo: y’all sittin by the edge right?

TJ: yea we are. Fr fr thank u so much for this 🙏🏾

Ayo: ofc, my guy. go kill it

TJ paced back and forth outside the entrance, periodically checking his phone. He had made all the arrangements yesterday—now he just had to hope everything came together smoothly.

After a few more minutes, he spotted a group approaching in the distance. A tall woman with a braided mohawk sauntered over to him. She had gills along her neck, wide-set eyes of blue, and skin as black as night, topped with a braided mohawk. Her stage name was Naija Siren and she was one of the most famous singers among divinerkind. But more importantly, one of Manny’s favorites. Trailing behind her was a small band: a dark elf guitarist with red eyes and white hair, a blue-skinned drummer who had four arms andwho reminded TJ of Yamaraja from the Court of All, and a rather ordinary human bassist who had a shaved head and sunglasses. It wasn’t until TJ looked down that he realized the bassist had six fingers on each hand. 

“You all made it!” TJ said, relief washing over him as he rushed to greet them. “Thank you so much for doing this. It really means a lot to me.”

“Sure ting, l’il man,” Naija Siren said with light Carribean tonalities. “You’re Ayodeji’s friend, right?” 

“Nah, nah,” the human bassist said, his words lax, chill, and deep. “He’s more than that rich kid’s friend. This is Ifedayo Young’s li’l bro.” He gestured over his shoulder to where Dayo’s mural stood proudly in the distance. “Hero of Nigeria. Saved my li’l sister from a pack of kishi that got loose from Thornriver a few years back. I’ll never forget it.”

“And he’s the one who helped with that business with Eko Atlantic,” the dark elf said smoothly. “He’s a true hero himself.”  

“Well, shoot, the kid shoulda opened with that instead of all that chat chat him do. More than happy to do this favor for you. The least we could do.”

“Right then,” the drummer said, twirling his sticks between his hands. “Let’s get into position quickly now. We have a show in Lagos to get to tonight.”

As the band began tuning their instruments and reviewing lyrics, TJ led them inside the restaurant. The lantern light gave everything a gentle ambiance. He spotted Manny sitting alone at their table by the railing, gazing out pensively at the darkening water.

TJ’s heart pounded as he approached her. “Hey Manny, sorry that took a while. But I, uh, brought back a few friends who wanted to say hi.”

Manny turned, her brow furrowing. Then her eyes widened as she took in the group assembled behind TJ.

“TJ, no you didn’t!” she squealed. “Naija Siren? TJ—how—what… is this real?”

“They’re here to help me out with something special,” TJ said, his palms sweating in his gloves. This was it. “Manny, you know you’re one of the most important people in my life. We’ve been through so much together. And you’re right… it is like we have half a relationship. Most of the best things that have happened to us were in realms you can’t remember. But I read somewhere that music can help bring back memories, feelings…” 

Naija Siren and her band began playing a gentle melody as TJ continued. 

“I got Naija and her band to make a song recapping some of our adventures, to help bring back all those memories you lost… at least the feeling, hopefully.” TJ took a deep breath. His heart hammered wildly now. “So this is for you, Manny. I hope you like it.”

Naija Siren’s voice blended together in perfect harmony with her band as she began to sing:

We met one bright day, at camp by the lake

Befriended the gator, some trouble we’d make

Through graveyards of ships, we were partners in crime

Took on the sea queen, escaped just in time

Together we soared, up through the Sky Realm

The Frost Giants attacked, but we braved the cold helm

No matter what came, we faced it together

Our bond ever stronger, like birds of a feather...

As the song continued, Manny’s eyes glistened with tears. TJ’s throat tightened with emotion; his body heated with embarrassment. Was this too much? 

The final notes faded into the night. Manny dabbed at her eyes, laughing through her tears. “Damn, TJ, this almost feels like a marriage proposal or something.” 

TJ rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, I can get down on one knee if you want…” 

Manny threw up her hands. “No! Don’t do that!” 

They both laughed, the slight awkwardness dissipating. TJ took a deep breath. It was time. “In all seriousness though, Manny... we’ve been through so much together. I can’t imagine anyone else I’d rather have by my side—well, besides Ayo, but you know what I mean. You’re different. You’ve always been different. So… I was wondering... hoping... that you’d let me come to your quince as your escort… As… your boyfriend.”

There was a beat of silence that felt endless. Most of the other patrons had turned in their chairs to see what all the commotion was about. TJ could stop the pounding thunder in his ears. 

Then Manny hunched over, gagging dramatically.

“Oh no, what’s wrong?” TJ asked, alarmed.

“I just remembered I’m lactose intolerant,” Manny said between exaggerated gags.

TJ swallowed nervously, looking back at their table of appetizers. “But we didn’t have any dairy…”

“Yeah, but I’m allergic to all that cheese I just witnessed!” Manny said with a cheeky grin.

“Oh, shut up!” TJ laughed, smacking her arm playfully.

Manny’s expression softened. “Really though, TJ... of course I’d love for you to be my escort. As my boyfriend.”

A cheer rose up from the band. TJ was vaguely aware of the drummer dabbing at his eyes under his shades. But all he could focus on was Manny. They embraced, giddy with excitement. And though TJ desperately wanted to kiss her properly, he settled for a quick peck on the cheek, suddenly feeling shy with so many eyes on them.

TJ hadn’t imagined the day going so perfectly. As they settled back into their seats—fingers interlaced without him realizing when they had held hands to begin with—he knew that no matter what adventures lay ahead, he and Manny would face them together.

From UK to Nigeria

Freya stood in the midst of a lavender garden, awed by the sea of purple blooms that swayed gently in the early spring breeze. It had become a favorite spot of hers, partly because of the flowers, mostly because it was her girlfriend’s family home. The vibrant hues were a stark contrast to the winter’s monochrome, and bees buzzed softly, busy at work among the flowers. The soothing scent of lavender filled the air, promising the arrival of warmer days.

In a few weeks was the start of spring and the Druid Festival of Vernal Gathering. Each druid of the land was charged with planting a tree, shrub, or flower that would contribute to the reforestation of the local area of Balloch. And of course, Freya chose one of the more difficult plants to grow in the chilly Scottish climate. If it weren’t for her new staff, she wasn’t sure she’d actually be able to do it. With a smile, she admired its wood finish, the way it spiraled and fit in her hand as she pointed it at a patch of slightly wilted lavender that needed some tender loving care.

“Blàth, beò agus anail,” she said, her words like a cycle of sunlight, nurturing soil, water, and fertilization all packaged in one. The drooping lavender slowly but surely spread up and wide. Looking perfectly at attention.

Beside Freya, Eilean sat on a woven blanket spread on the grass, two mugs of hot chocolate steaming beside her. Freya smiled, settling next to her girlfriend and accepting the offered mug with a grateful kiss on Eilean’s cheek.

“I can’t believe you passed your staff trials,” Eilean said, her green eyes sparkling and her strong red hair tied back in braids. “Did I tell you you could do it, or did I tell you you could do it?”

Freya rolled her eyes. “You told me I could do it.” She placed the staff on the blanket next to them and took a sip from the mug, delicious hot chocolate filling her throat. “But what you failed to mention was how hard it would be.”

Eilean shrugged and, with only a brief pause, rested her hand on Freya’s thigh. It didn’t matter how long they’d been together, Eilean still questioned if Freya was okay with her touch. “That’s what you get for listening to a sword-lass. I don’t know anything about that hocus pocus stuff.”

“I almost failed the water challenge.” Freya shook her head. “But I managed to summon a mist from the moisture in the air at the last second. Thankfully, the test was in the early morning or I would have mucked that all up.”

Eilean laughed, the sound as delightful as the garden around them. “And the earth trial? I heard you nearly got tangled in thorn bushes.”

“Don’t remind me,” Freya groaned, rubbing at barely healed wounds on her arms.

They clinked their mugs together, enjoying the rich cocoa under the open sky. Suddenly, Eilean’s brow furrowed. “Hey, isn’t that the charm that kid from Ifa Academy sent you?” She pointed to the cauldron charm of Cailleach on Freya’s staff.

Freya’s eyes widened as she noticed the charm was frosting over, odd amidst the blossoming garden. She set her mug aside and pushed herself up to sit with her legs underneath her. Her fingers found the twisted curve of her staff, and she held it tight in her grasp. With a tongue sticking out, she pulled the wooden shaft closer so she could examine it more closely. Indeed, the charm was coated in frost. That had never happened before.

Sure, Cailleach was associated with the winter, but like she told TJ… Cailleach was gone. Dead. The charm should have been just as barren, just as bare as her prayers to Cailleach. 

But then she remembered something TJ had written to her when he sent the charm over in the mail.

“Eilean, can you grab me my sack?”

“Right away, love!” Eilean leaned over and grabbed Freya’s bag, then handed it over. Freya gathered it in her hands. She fished inside of it, holding her staff with her free hand. When she felt for the paper she was looking for, she unraveled it with her mouth and read:

Guess who’s Nigeria’s latest licensed staff user? I’ll give you a guess. His name rhymes with Parlay (oh, by the way, remind me to tell you about the story of when I had to use a Pantheon Parlay, it’s a good one). 

Anyway, you owe me one of those Scottish shortbreads! 

I told you even the dead can manifest Ashe. 

Maybe this little trinket can get you a passing grade for your trial. Fat chance, considering I did all the heavy lifting getting you your new staff!

JK! ;P 

But for real, hopefully the charm of ‘the old hag’ can help my favorite old lady. Don’t worry, I warmed it up for you. Or actually… I guess… I cooled it down. You know what I mean. 

See you around, Freya! 

— TJ

P.S. Oh! And don’t forget to take out your dentures before bed, old lady. 

Freya chuckled at the last line. She’d forgotten he’d written that. She was so stressed about her trial she had barely skimmed it. Still, the letter was puzzling, and the frost on the charm was even more head scratching. What was TJ trying to tell her? 

Freya pulled out her phone and dialed TJ, but it went to voicemail. She quickly called Manny instead. Manny answered straight away, her voice fraught with tears.

“Manny, what’s wrong?” Freya asked, a lump of worry forming.

Through sobs, Manny said, “We were trying to cross over, to get to the Court of All, but we failed. We need TJ.”

“Huh? Court of All? What are you talking about?”

“TJ! He’s going die. They say he’ll die today if we don’t save him.”

Freya’s gaze snapped back to the frosted charm. “Manny, I think TJ is trying to communicate with me right now.”

“What?” 

“He gave me this charm in the mail. And it just started frosting over a moment ago when it should be a dead charm. How long ago did you all try to cross? Is he there with you now?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a few minutes ago?” Manny’s voice receded from her phone. It sounded like she was talking to someone else. “Um, Freya. I’m going to hand the phone to someone else. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” she said, putting the phone on speaker. She and Eilean had dealt with their fair share of weird. Getting Eilean’s insight could help. 

“Hello, is this Freya Innes?” an older female voice said. “The exchange student from Scotland?” 

“Who is that?” Eilean asked, half standing on their blanket. “What’s going on?”

Freya waved her away. “Yes, that’s me. What’s going on with TJ?”

“This is Special Operations Director Simisola Adeyemi of the United Council of Magical Peoples. You say you’ve made contact with TJ?”

Out the corner of Freya’s eye, Eilean seemed to tense. Had she known TJ too?

Freya lifted her staff, eyeing the frosted charm of Cailleach once more. “I’ve not contacted TJ. Not directly or anything, but…” She explained her time with TJ, how they helped build each other’s staffs, the debate they had about using Cailleach’s charm, and her own success with it in her own trials. “But what does that have to do with anything. Is TJ in the other room or something?”

“I’m sending you a car from the UCMP right away. Bring that staff, and keep it absolutely safe, you understand me?”

“Yes, but—”

“Keep it safe. Two UCMP officials will be there in less than thirty. I look forward to meeting you, Miss Innes.”

The line went dead. Freya stood speechless, almost forgetting that Eilean was sitting there with a bewildered look.

“And I thought my time in Ireland was intense. Are you going to tell me what’s going on or am I going to have to sneak into the boot of these UC peoples car to find outDamn, girl, are you gonna just stand there or tell me what that was all about?”

Freya made a slow turn to her girlfriend. “I think… I think I just got recruited by the UCMP.”

***

Just as that Director Adeyemi woman said over the phone, two large people clad in navy blue and gold trim pulled up to Eilean’s grandmother’s house. They drove an all-black saloon with tinted windows, and they immediately encased Freya’s staff in a protective tube they placed safely in the trunk. Before they took Freya away, they allowed her to call any friends or family. When she told her grandfather she had to pull the phone from her ear.

“The UCMP!? The UCMP!? Whatever it is, say yes!”

So, after a very long hug and kiss that had to be broken up by Eilean’s grandmother, Freya was off. The UCMP officers explained that portal travel wasn’t possible in Balloch “because of the Henge”—whatever that meant, so they had to take a charter to London. Freya felt like a princess being chauffeured and her mind was still catching up to reality when she and her staff were ushered onto a private jet that took off from Glasglow Airport and landed in London-Heathrow Airport. 

During the flight, Freya finally got an explanation about TJ but she wasn’t fully sure she understood. There was mention of God Eaters, which she knew about, a Channeling, a Court of All, and TJ being “glimpsed” by Yewa. Freya had to look up Yewa to remind herself that she was the deity that watched over diviners who passed from the Mortal Realm to Orun—the Orisha Planes. 

It wasn’t until her private car pulled up on the freaking Doughnut—the Government Communications Headquarters of Great Britain, that Freya fainted. When she came to, she was in a featureless room of gray surrounded by more people in navy uniforms. 

“Are you sure this water is being filtered from the River Severn,” someone was saying from the other side of the room. “This is a Priority Two event. I don’t want the girl redirected to an adjacent ley line and end up in the Nile. Director Adeyemi would have our heads.”

Freya rubbed her eyes and blinked. Water was cascading down the far wall. Like one of those endless wall fountains at a fancy hotel. Between the ripples, she could just make out what looked like a round table surrounded by a room of craggy rocks. Several figures were on the other side, as though peering in. 

“Do we have any concerns for CDS on this?” another officer asked. “We could send her through now instead of three hours from now.”

“Not worth the lawsuit. We’ve still got a half day until the Equinox starts.”

That was the second time she fainted.

When she woke again, the portal that would send her from London to New Ile-Ife was ready.   

The UCMP officers who had picked her up rushed her along to the fountain at the back of the room, one of them saying, “Here’s your staff. The charm of Cailleach is still frosted.”

“Director Adeyemi will explain the rest,” the other said, placing a large hand on Freya’s back and directing her to the portal. “Good luck, Miss Innes.”

And just like that, Freya went from having a nice day of gardening with her girlfriend to being rushed through a portal to Nigeria. The transition was peculiar, almost like slipping into a dream. One moment, she was in the previous room—bright, sterile, and utterly forgettable, with its bland, even lighting and clinical feel. Then, as her foot crossed the threshold, a shiver raced down her spine, raising goosebumps along her arms. The air seemed heavier, cooler, and her eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden dimness. The new room was like stepping into the heart of a cavern, its rough, rocky walls glinting faintly in the glow of orange crystals embedded here and there, casting flickering shadows that danced across the uneven surfaces. It felt alive, ancient, and utterly unlike the place she’d just left.

A mass of hair that looked very similar to her own rushed her. “What did TJ say? How did he talk to you? Is he still alive?” It was Manny. Even though she was a few inches shorter than Freya, her presence and Brooklyn husk towered over her. 

“Miss Martinez, give her some space to breathe.” Freya recognized that voice. Director Adeyemi. “But, please, Miss Innes, we do want to hear more about this charm TJ left you. While you traveled here, we did as much research as we could about this Cailleach.”

“KAL-YaHK,” Freya corrected the pronunciation. “There’s a bit of husk to the name at the end. Even we Scotts don’t get it right all the time.” 

“The Cailleach, thank you.”

Freya surveyed the room. She knew some of the faces. Teacher Omo of Fon, Oracle Ruby, and of course Manny and Ayo, the latter who stood just at his friends shoulder with expectant eyes. There were others too, adults who looked like they could be related. The woman, in particular, looked like a lighter-skinned version of Manny. And the space around them was stunning. Behind them on the round table was a misty project of a grand court room decorated in gold. What was that? What was TJ getting into when he wasn’t at Ifa Academy? He had said he had run-ins with the Orishas but she didn’t think he was some teenage UCMP officer or something.

“Miss Innes, I know this place is quite remarkable, but we must focus. The Equinox is mere hours away, and our window of opportunity is narrow. We need your help to understand the significance of Cailleach and how she might be connected to TJ’s situation.”

Omo of Fon chimed in, “Our research suggests that Cailleach is a goddess of the dead. We believe she may have insights into TJ’s whereabouts, given that he seems to be communicating through her charm. Or some residual form of the boy.”

“So… wait,” Freya said, a small grief seizing her heart. “TJ’s dead? Like… for real?”

Oracle Ruby nodded, her eyes distant as if peering into unseen realms. Freya didn’t remember her looking so haggard before. What had been going on back at Ifa Academy? 

“The fact that TJ is reaching out through this particular deity is telling,” she said. “Our own deity of the dead said she glimpsed TJ, but we still are trying to decipher the meaning there.”

TJ’s mother, who looked perhaps the most dejected of them all, added, “Please, Miss Innes, any information you can provide could be crucial in assisting my son. Wherever he is. Whatever he is now.” 

Freya’s gaze swept across the room, taking in the pleading expressions of Manny and Ayo. She carefully considered her next words, knowing the weight they would carry. It was usually Eilean who shouldered most of this stuff. She was entirely sure she was out of her element here. But what they were after wasn’t at all what Cailleach would offer them. They would be in for quite the disappointment…

Shaking her head gently, Freya explained, “I think there’s been… a misunderstanding. Cailleach is not a goddess of death in, like, the traditional sense of ruling over the dead or the afterlife. She’s a weather goddess more than anything. Though, she is connected to winter so, I guess, symbollically she is connected to the processes of death and regeneration within the natural world. She’s not like Yewa or Oya. She’s more, like, a process… I guess?”

TJ’s mother’s brow furrowed. Freya didn’t think her frown could cut deeper, but it did. “So… how does that help us? We can’t reach the other side without TJ’s power. We’re stuck here.” 

Freya’s eyes drifted to her staff, the frosted charm catching her attention once more. Suddenly, a revelation struck her. She knew what they had to do.

She knew what TJ was trying to tell her.

I told you, she thought, TJ’s voice in her head, even the dead can manifest Ashe.