“Sunny Nwazuuuue, who are youuuuuu?” she sang. She chuckled drily.

Sunny shuddered, pressing closer to Orlu.

“I see you.”

Bola stopped, squinting her eyes at Sunny. “Yes, the free agent lucky enough to twin with Anyanwu and unlucky enough to be untwinned from her twin.” She looked Sunny up and down. “So young and you’ve lost one so old.” She stepped closer. “But you still live. I can speak to you. It is you who is having the dreams and asked what they are about.”

“Yes,” Sunny squeaked. “I want to know . . .”

“If the end of the world will come tomorrow. You wake up quietly afraid every morning that the sun will rise only to burn everything to ash and you’ll have nowhere to hide but back on the other side where you were such a powerful guide. Warrior Sunny Nwazue of Nimm by way of Ozoemena of Nimm. But who are you really, anymore?”

Sunny felt her face growing hot, tears behind her eyes. The words of the one possessing Bola were like the slash of knives.

“Yes, words can cut deep,” the one who was not Bola said. “They are clearer than images, more exact. Especially the magical kind, like the Nsibidi. Keep learning Nsibidi, you will need it; the answers are within it, and so much more. Your dreams, you have misinterpreted. Think, think hard. What you saw. It was not like what the wilderling forced upon you. This was something else and you know it. This was you using what you have. Shape-shifter, who can step into our wilderness when she learns that she can. Time folder, who can stop it when she hates someone enough.” She crept closer to Sunny and cocked her head. “Smoking city or city of smoke?”

Orlu gasped. “Oh my God!”

“What?” Sunny asked.

“Ah, finally it dawns on you. See what happens when you only assume the negative?” Bola said, focusing for the first time on Orlu. “It’s not always the worst.”

“What? WHAT?!” Sunny asked him.

“Your man understands, that’s what,” she said. “The vision was just nudging toward where you must go to do what the world needs.”

“But Osisi isn’t . . . We can’t get there,” Orlu said.

“Yes, you can,” Bola said. “Find Udide beneath the city of Lagos and have her weave you a flying grasscutter. Those can fly to Osisi easy. It will take you, if you can convince it.”

“Lagos?” Sunny said. “How are we supposed to get to Lagos?! That’s hours away! And what’s Osisi?”

“Udide, she will be there? In Lagos?” Orlu asked.

“Yes.”

“Through the market, as it says in the beast books?” he asked.

“Yes, for now.”

“Flying grasscutters are obnoxious,” he said, pinching his chin as he thought. “It’ll get us all caned, or worse.”

“Ekwensu has made it here. Time has run out and now it’ll be more difficult. A flying grasscutter is the fastest way to get to Osisi,” Bola stressed. “If Ekwensu comes, a caning is the least of your worries.”