Biafra stared at the angel, awe and excitement on her face. A shimmer of light condensed around him, draping the coal wings with golden syrup, four emeralds gleamed and winked at her. A baritone coughed out “Where am I?”
“The Distributed Republics of The Niger Area.” She tried to be as polite as possible although her insides felt like they were burning up with excitement. When she brought him home, everyone would respect her, she might even get to cross into Apadi!
“Would you like some food?” she asked, his stomach rumbled in response and he shrugged with a shy smile. The city of Lagos was a tourism paradise but had little space for resting or slowing down. “We should catch a portal to Nun.” she advised pointing at the transporter.
“Those runes,” he pointed at the inscriptions on the giant beaded calabash “are they the same as the one on your face?” “Eboan runes'' Biafra replied proudly “they’re from my people.” “And they move space?” he frowned. BIafra’s belly twisted, even if he was an angel, his skin was the same colour as hers, why would he think they weren’t capable of hyper-transport. “Only one way to find out.” she stubbornly put on her smile. “Wait please,” he asked. Then stood still. After three minutes she hesitantly tugged on the sheepskin shawl wrapped around his shoulders
. “What are you doing? We need to leave.”
“Just wanted to memorize them.”
Biafra sighed, It was just her luck that she ended up picking the stupid angel, she mused.
“You can’t memorize Nsibidi.” she whispered when he didn’t move, dragging him into the portal.
There was a blinding flash of light before they were spat out of the other end of the portal, a similar calabash to the one in Lagos, but better. Biafra watched the angel take it in and smiled proudly, the river Nun stretched out in front of them for miles, it was not the choppy, angry white waves of Bar Beach, but green, fertile and life-giving, it was the Eboan family and community, a vast ideal.
A tired groan cut through her thoughts like a dull flint. “What have you done this time, you stupid girl.” That was rude but Biafra knew that elders were rude, it was their revenge for having to be polite when they were younger, the effects of repression were obvious but culture could be a stagnant thing
“Father, I’ve caught an angel.”
“I would be more glad if you had caught the fish you were sent to buy.” the old man sighed exasperated. Then he spoke a Word, there was a small moment in which Biafra experienced a rapid sequence of emotions- confusion, fear, anger and heroism- she had imagined throwing herself between her father and the angel before common sense swished its skirts and took back control of the reins.
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“Why?” the angel didn’t seem bothered by the sudden weight that had been laid on his shoulder, maybe the wings didn’t feel pain? Biafra wondered.
“Necessary Outsider restraint.” Father replied calmly,
“You can’t restrain me.” the confidence with which the alien spoke belied his current situation, namely, hunched over and gasping.
“This is necessary for Outsiders, what world are you from? Are you part of the Consortium?”
“You think I am a Vandal?” the angel asked. “Ï’m deeply offended.”
“What world are you from?” Father asked again, increasing the burden as the angel strained to turn his neck.
“It doesn’t exist for you..” the angel paused before continuing “The stories recorded your world as a very friendly place, I’ll be sure to correct the rumours.”
“See that you do. We are no longer gullible humans and you are testing my patience.”
“If your world doesn’t exist then how are you here?” Biafra asked
“We are all ghosts of elder dreams, think of me as a rebellious character.”
“I don tire.” Father growled, then he spoke a Word. The drooping vines of the weeping tree lashed out and formed a cage around the angel.
“You’re being very rude, Father.” Biafra complained, didn’t he see the possibilities? “He could give us Power, he could-” A vine lashed her cheek before she finished. “Did you suddenly become a Reader while I was sleeping?” Biafra knew that voice better than the back of her hands, sure enough the remaining elders crept out of the surrounding foliage like dryads.
“We’re going to lose the war without more firepower.” Biafra protested as Mama Igi eyed her with obvious scorn.
“So you brought a stranger into our house, in the midst of a war?”
“I do have firepower.” the angel, impossibly, straightened, and set the world on fire. Biafra couldn’t breathe, she was lightheaded as a wall of dancing orange flames consumed her, she fell to her knees as a terrible thirst overcame her, the world was burnt away, there was nothing but an endless desert, a scorching sun that mocked her for her hubris. Why had she believed the stupid prophecy? When had aliens ever been good? Then the world went back to normal, the angel stood straight, black wings spread triumphant as the weeping willow crackled and smouldered, the river boiling. She suddenly felt like a frog in a pot.
“What do you want?” Mama Igi was so composed that Biafra realised something she had missed, the elders knew the stranger was strong, that was why father had not tried to drag him, the river would suffer, yes, but if this display had happened in the meeting hall, in one of the villages, she couldn’t imagine the disaster. T
The angel grinned fiercely “Adventure.”
Three days later the desert burned, recapturing Makurdi was easy when there was nobody else left in it, the elders were glad when the black-winged angel was snatched away by one of his kind. They finally had peace, but it was the silent kind, the one that came with too many skeletons.