“We’re almost home,” Mawuse and Ngozi’s impromptu guide snapped at the boy rowing the boat. It has been three hours since they began their journey. It felt like she found herself in the strange land this moment. “We need to get them to the boss on time!”

“I don’t see any giants here,” Ngozi murmured under the guide’s harsh voice, “Do you?”

Mawuse blinked. She had spent long moments taking in the sunset world that Ngozi’s question threw her out of her daze. “Huh?”

Giants? There were giants in this place?

“A giant,” Ngozi said. “Do you see one yet?”

She snatched her gaze away. A mediator had to be sharp. Mawuse had to behave as if she knew what Ngozi was talking about, or else Ngozi would send her back home. Ngozi expected her to know that giants existed and get used to the idea.

The student checked her parameters again. Still too far away from the shores. She could see nothing but the fiery horizon. Her hands almost trembled when she tried to see under the sun.

Mawuse paused. “I don’t see any,”

Ngozi waited until the guide remained focused on ordering the boy around on the boat.

“I won’t repeat this again, so listen. Adajoku makes up over half of the king’s military. Yes, there are giants here. They are quiet, so the only times you see them is if they show themselves to you.”

The winds picked up. Birds singing from above, masked Ngozi’s gentle voice, giving them the cover they needed. “They can hide within the forest, act as the mountain you climb, and seem like an island when you swim. But they are watching you.”

“There is a reason the king has kept the kingdom from another civil war. You know we have about five hundred and forty predominant tribes here. This makes us one of the kingdoms most likely to jump in another war. The giants make up a third of the king’s military and never come out unless a civil war gets messy. The last time it got messy was a hundred years ago.”

Mawuse took in Ngozi’s words. A hundred years ago? Wouldn’t the people of Sokode still tell stories? Wouldn’t one of them spread tales of their encounters with a giant? Sokode had gossipers. Everyone would have known by now.

“Take this meeting seriously. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do.

The boy stopped rowing. Mawuse slowly looked up to the bird that sped past her. It was a shocking turquoise, but so quick she could not even see its face. She kept her eyes focused on the looming patch of the island that crept over the seas.

When trees the size of mountains rose, Mawuse’s chest started pounding so hard that she couldn’t hear the winds.

“I see the place,” Ngozi announced. “Get ready.”

Adajoku rose like a beast out of slumber. The closer they got, the tinier their boat became. Mawuse remained trapped in her shocked stupor. Giant shadows, swallowed her when they got past the first set of trees.

She watched more birds flutter by, chirping to her as if they were trying to tell her to turn back. Some stopped over her shoulder before they flew off.

Mawuse knew that the first set of tents scattered about had no place on this island. A small campfire. Still no giants, only criminals. She didn’t realize that the boat slowed down near the sandy, yet grassy shores. Once the boat docked, the guide turned to them.

“Get out,”

Ngozi waited. Mawuse could tell she was going to say something foul, but kept her mouth shut. The mediator stood up and stepped over the boat. She took her mentor’s hand. Mawuse planted her feet on wet sands. Ngozi held her until the apprentice got her footing.

A sharp blast blew Mawuse in the face. She stood right by the black and yellow printed lilies on Ngozi’s skirts and the dagger nested near her side. She did not know what came over her, but it felt like someone’s hand squeezed her stomach.

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The imposters watched her and Ngozi. Their lean frames, hungry eyes, and predatory posture made her look away. She wondered how Ngozi once carried out two hundred mediations in a year. Alone, wandering on the lands of people who could have killed her.

“Follow me,” the guide said. Ngozi kept her pace slow, meaning that Mawuse had to catch up. The little boy fell back to blend in with those on the shores. “Our leader is behind the wall. He has been waiting for long. Walk faster.”

Ngozi and Mawuse kept their lips shut. Mediators had to remain cool. The people they worked against knew how to push and prod. It was important for a mediator to keep calm, study their targets, and stick to the goal. Any hard, back-handed comment can push the opponent to attack.

They took a path that dragged them into a tiny patch of the island. Crickets chirped in a frenzy. Bright yellow birds fluttered out of bushes anytime they got closer.

Mawuse saw the wall. Not too high, only double Ngozi’s height. No guard posts. Enough for intruders to climb over and attack. It almost seemed like a dwarf among giant trees.

She froze when Ngozi slowed her steps until she got to her side. “They came disguised as merchants. They trapped the giants and soldiers in the forest, then they targeted the village. That’s how they got in.”

Mawuse understood the problem better. A mediator needed as much information on the opponent as possible.

So far, she knew Adajoku is the only land of the giants in the kingdom of Sokode. Adajoku only needed a few giants to keep hundreds of intruders at bay. Here, Dayo Ojo was as smart as he was dangerous. He figured out a way to lure the giants out of the village first before he attacked. Mawuse had to be on her toes. A man like him could try anything.

She heard stories about how Ngozi lost her mentor in an ambush by Selorm the Robber years ago. Ngozi escaped and became the next mediator to the king. The mediator never went through another ambush since then.

“We are here.”

They stopped at the wall, near the iron-bound gates. Mawuse could smell the leftovers of fire and something else. She saw white smoke trails wafting off above the wall. Strangers at the posts hollered for the gates to be open. She held her breath. As the gates parted, she felt the gnaw on her stomach stretch out to her chest.

The tiny homes in Adajoku were all burnt to black and gray ashes. She saw no sign of a giant body, but the old streaks of blood dried up on the sand. Bodies were strewn about and piled up on top of each other, like common rocks on the ground. The invaders walked like they were home, stepping over bodies like litter.

Ahead of them, she could see one hut still standing, with a trail of smoke coming out of the side. Mawuse covered her nose.

She had never seen a dead body before. They were all bloated, black and their faces like that of the wooden artifacts she saw in the markets.

Some villagers must have been beautiful, or handsome, but when they’re dead, all looked the same. The gnawing at her chest burned her when she spotted smaller bodies. Children.

Ngozi tugged her.

“Stop staring too hard,” she murmured. “When we go meet the leader, you will stay quiet while I do the talking. Watch for any signs of deception.”

Mawuse stared off into space. Ngozi didn’t bring her back. When Mawuse realized her mentor said something, she looked up and said, “Okay.”

They walked enough for Mawuse to see the untouched hut’s rough mud walls up close. It could contain around twenty people. The guide turned to them.

“Wait here,”

Mawuse watched him disappear behind the beaded opening. She ignored the stench surrounding her. It wafted over, like a smokescreen that made her eyes water. The gnawing in her stomach grew tighter when she heard firm steps come back.

The guide came out before he leaned against the side of the entrance, “Inside.”

Ngozi took her hand out to keep Mawuse from walking in. Not that the Mawuse even wanted to.

In a situation like this, a mediator had to be careful. Going inside the hut could lead to an ambush. All it took was one step in before someone could block her from the outside and keep her from running out.

The meeting room can either be the last place she ever sees or the place she conquers. Her hands trembled, but she made fists and planted her feet on the ground.

“We come in peace,” Ngozi said. “But how do I know you want peace as well?”

“Get in.”

“Not without your word and affirmation that this girl will make it out alive. I don’t mind if it’s me, but I have an apprentice now. Her grandmother expects me to bring her back in one piece. I need your boss’s word that you all will help me do that.”

“Leave them be, Ekenna!”

The baritone voice almost echoed out near the forest. Mawuse thought the voice that crept out of the hut had been the deepest one she ever heard. It almost reminded her of her dead father.

She heard shuffling. Mawuse could see Ngozi brush the hilt of her dagger with the tip of her finger.

The string of beads covering the entrance shifted aside as Ekenna stepped away.

A man with no top, but cloth wrapped around the lower part of his body, stepped out. Mawuse caught his milky left eye and the chewing stick in his mouth. His wide smile could light up a room. Mawuse immediately felt safe, but the milky eye stopped her. It told her something else. It told her this man was not her father.

“Welcome to our home!” he greeted, spreading his arms wide. “Please come in and have a seat. Ignore this fool.”