Sunny stopped reading the moment she understood. The Nsibidi disappeared. Setting the recently oil-soaked part of the Niger Delta on fire was only Ekwensu at play. It was only the first thing that would happen if Sunny didn’t succeed right now. Once Ekwensu really got started, she would turn the world into the apocalyptic place Sunny had seen in the candle’s flame. Her eyes were watering, not from tears but from Ekwensu’s fumes and the pain of the stings as Ekwensu spun faster and faster. Sunny continued to climb. Everything depended on it.

The deep drumbeats grew rapid and the flute crescendoed into a shrill screech as the weakening Sunny climbed up the side of the masquerade, her body threatening to give out under the searing pain of the masquerade’s stings. She was between the smiling and frowning face. Both of them twisted down and tried to bite her. She leaned out of reach. She knew what she was looking for and moments later, she saw it: a small space between the packed leaves and the faces, the bottom of the mask.

With all the brute strength she had left, she grabbed the edge of the masquerade’s mask and yanked. It didn’t give. It didn’t budge. She’d gotten so close, yet now she would die. Sunny had fought Ekwensu once long ago in a past life, in the wilderness. She’d used her juju knife because it was a knife like the one she had now—one that could travel with her into both worlds. She’d been of both worlds back then, as she was now. And back then, she’d defeated Ekwensu and sent her away. Then, a year ago, Sunny had defeated Ekwensu with magical words she’d remembered from when she was only Anyanwu. She’d used juju again.

And now here they were, a third time. And this time, Sunny had turned things on their head and fought Ekwensu in a way that Ekwensu had not expected. Not with juju knives and magic, but with hand-to-hand combat, physical strength. And Sunny had almost won again. Almost. But Ekwensu’s mask would not come off.

Sunny pulled and pulled. Deep and guttural, Ekwensu began to laugh an awful ugly sound that forced nauseous images of smoke, fire, death, and blood into Sunny’s mind. She felt her gorge rise. Then she saw the very image that she’d seen in the candle two years ago. It wasn’t a small sight in the flame of a candle this time. It bloomed before her with a certainty that spoke to her soul and the memories of her ancestors and the dreams of her future offspring. She shrieked and pulled again. And pulled. And puuuuuuuullllllled!

It gave.

Like her last baby tooth that had hung by a thread for a week. The mask had been coming off all this time, it was just that neither she nor Ekwensu had realized it. Ekwensu’s mask finally slipped off. And so did Sunny. As she fell, she could see her arms. They were dotted with red marks from being bitten all over. The lean muscles on her arms bulged. When had she grown so strong? Her veined hands were clutching the enormous mask that was bigger than her entire body.