The Baobab Throne

long dry season. Around her, children of the village gathered, wide-eyed and silent,

hers' fathers were born, the stars told of a child born under the blood moon

ng why the tale gripped her soul like a forgotten melody. She clutched the wooden pendant th

of drums, and a voice whispering:

ts across the clay huts. Night creatures stirred in the brush beyond the huts, b

the fire, her bones c

from the heart of the oldest baobab tree. It was a throne meant for

. She had always felt different. While the other girls weaved baskets or sang wedding songs

on her, and for a se

rain will awaken the spirits and break the chain of silence. That child may be

he crackle of t

shooed home by yawning mothers and

leave, Maama Nia

i tu

ream, do

i fr

do yo

"Because your dreams are not your own. They are

e. Not about the voice in the river. Not about the strange writing that som

nderstand,

d woman said. "But

barkcloth. Imani opened it carefully. Inside was a stone the siz

it?" she

said. "And a key. Hide it.

t Maama Nia had already closed her eye

-

Morni

ter from the stream, her mind spinning with questions. Who were the anc

gourd, her eyes caught a reflec

e color of rich soil, a spear slung acro

ound. No on

, she looked bac

ection w

-

Hunter

he best hunter of N'golo, had returned from the wilds. He broug

ou did it!" ch

said, "The lion to

ama Nia, watching fr

ooked at her, pausing

yes?" sh

lio

one in her pouch

-

hat

, staring at the thatched roof. Then she heard it -

mmered like diamonds scattered across obsidian. She walked pas

the baobab tr

e was

man from

he did no

. "Daughter of thu