But this had to be the place she was meant to find. All things pointed here. The Nsibidi note her grandmother had left, her tricky Nsibidi book, the lake and river beasts, Ekwensu’s passive-aggressive attacks, Bola, her dreams. “So now what?” she muttered. She sighed and, despite it all, found herself relaxed by the warm sunshine and the quiet solitude of the grand room. She tilted her face toward the sun and shut her eyes. Everything glowed red behind her eyelids. She heard soft buzzing. When she opened her eyes, a red wasp was hovering right before her face. She stayed still as it lazily flew into the room, its limp legs hanging down.

Sunny slowly got up, as another wasp came through the open window. Then another. They didn’t pay her any mind as they flew toward the palm tree. Where were they coming from? Maybe there’s a hive on the side of the house, she thought. Something buzzed and landed on the edge of her ear, and her body tensed. She twitched and slapped the side of her head hard enough to cause her ear to ring. When she brought her hand away, she saw that she’d crushed a large flying ant or termite. “Ugh!” she said, wiping the crushed insect on the wall.

She made for the stairs, her heart pounding. Something wasn’t right. “Chichi? Sasha?” she called as she jumped down the stairs. “We should get out of here! I . . .” They weren’t in the library.

“We’re down here,” Sasha called. They were standing near the front door. The ceiling and walls were swarming with termites, and Sunny spotted more wasps and a few mosquitoes flying around, too. Chichi looked particularly horrified.

“What’s going on?!” Sunny asked, running to them.

“Wait,” Sasha said, frowning deeply as he held up a finger.

Suddenly, Chichi screeched, turned tail, and ran through the open door, out of the house.

“Chichi,” Sunny called. “Where are you . . .”

Outside, Grashcoatah suddenly roared viciously. Sunny and Sasha looked at each other and ran to see what was happening. They stepped out just in time to see the great swarm of termites wrap around the screaming Chichi and whisk her into the air. The grass looked like an undulating black sea. It was writhing with black ants.

“Ow, shit!” Sasha said, slapping his arm.

Sunny felt a sting on her calf. Her leg involuntarily buckled from the pain, and she grabbed Sasha’s arm. “Are you all right?” Sasha said, his face squeezed from the pain of his own sting.

“I . . .” she said. “Are you?” She looked down and saw a bee still wiggling its stinger into the leg of her pants. She brushed it off and nearly screamed from the pain.

“No,” Sasha said, looking at his arm. “My arm’s numb!”

Over the sea of ants, the swarm of stinging insects whirled into a chunky shape, swallowing Chichi’s screaming form. There was a shimmery blue cloth that appeared at the base of the roiling form, and gradually the cloth ascended over the hovering mass of termite bodies. It looked like it was made of silk and was the deep blue of the ocean on a clear day.