Chapter 1
The wind screamed like a tortured thing outside Miko’s window, but her own voice was a low murmur, wrestling with the words on the page.
“‘Please…’ he begged,” she read aloud, her finger tracing each syllable, “‘do not… chains…’” She huffed in frustration. “The chains. The chains.” The story of a captured man in a foreign land was a knot she was determined to untie, one painful paragraph at a time.
CRACK!
A sound like splintering bone shot through the storm’s howl. Miko jolted upright, the book tumbling from her lap.
“What was that?”
she whispered to the empty room.
She rushed to the window, but a sharp tug on her dress yanked her back.
“Ah! Not again!”
she hissed, turning to see the familiar splintered nail on her bamboo bed frame snagging the black-and-white fabric. She pulled herself free with a rip.
Pressing her face to the cold glass, she saw nothing but swirling darkness. For a long moment, there was only the storm. Then, a sound that froze her blood: a high, desperate wail, right beneath her sill.
“Help me! Please, someone help!” a voice bawled
Miko’s heart hammered against her ribs. Who? Why? It was the hour for spirits, not for girls. Swallowing her fear, she called out, her voice thin and reedy against the wind.
“Who is there?”
Silence. She tried again, forcing strength into her words.
“Who are you?” she called into the darkness.
A faint, broken whisper floated up, barely audible. “My name is Nohn… Nohn Nekewon from Gbee. But I am… I am lost. I am just a wandering soul. Please, I need help.” the voice continued
“What do you mean?” Miko pressed, her brow furrowed. “What happened to you?”
“They took us!” The voice cracked with a sob. “Creatures! A horde of them! Some were small like dwarfs, others had scales like dragons… and demons… and giants! They dragged my family away!”
Miko’s eyes widened in horror. “Where? Why did they do this?”
But the night offered no more answers. The voice was gone, leaving only the mocking wail of the wind. The stories of Nimba Mountain, of witches and beast-men, came flooding back. She stumbled back to her bed, pulling the thin blanket over her head, but sleep was a long time coming.
---
The next morning, the worry was palpable.
“Where is that child?” her grandfather’s voice boomed from the main room. He stood at the doorstep, his shirt crooked. “The sun is already stretching its legs!”
“I don’t know, Pa,” her mother replied, her voice tight. “I called her twice. This isn’t like her.”
The door creaked open and Koko, Miko’s best friend, breezed in with a bucket on her hip. “Morning! Is Miko ready? We were supposed to—” She stopped, seeing their concerned faces. “Pa Larway? Where is Miko?”
Just then, Miko’s bedroom door opened. She stepped out, looking dazed and weary.
“Good morning, Grandpa,” she mumbled, walking over to hug him.
He held her at arm’s length, his kind eyes searching her face. “Miko, what is it? Are you all right? I have never seen you wake up looking like a storm-blown chicken.” Pa Larway inquired
Her mother was next to them in an instant. “And your dress!” she gasped, pointing to the torn hem. “What happened?” her mother asked in suspense
Miko looked down at the rip, the memory of the snag and the voice crashing together. She forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“I’m fine, Grandpa. I just… had some work to do in my room.”
“Work?” her mother pressed, her eyes narrowing. “What work causes this? And this rip looks like it was caught on something sharp.”
Miko hesitated, the words a voice in the storm on the tip of her tongue. But they sounded foolish in the light of day.
“I… I don’t know, ma’am,” she stammered, looking away. “Perhaps it’s one of those… pointe…” Her voice faded into a whisper, the unfinished lie hanging in the air.
