“What do you want?” she muttered. Not far from her on the floor were five red spiders. Two of them just stood there, seeming to watch her. The other three were running for cover.

“I want what you have,” the voice said.

“Why?”

“They throw stupid Leopard People down here often. Timid, angry, weak-minded careless men and women who have nothing for me to take but a piece of their sanity, or some of a family member’s future, meager gifts. But you . . . you have a soul that could release me from this place.”

“Sunny?” someone called. “Sunny Nwazue?”

Sunny got to her feet, wobbly for a moment. Then steady. She’d hit the wall as something other than a physical body. She was shaken but okay.

“Sunny?” she heard the man call again. A human man. From near the staircase. Her second meal was here. She’d made it through the second day. But was it breakfast, lunch, or dinner?

“I’m here,” she called, peeking around one of the bookshelves. He was a tall man of about her mother’s age. He wore jeans and a black T-shirt and gym shoes. Not clothes she’d seen any of the Obi Library students wear during the day.

“Here is your dinner,” he said, holding it out to her. If she had to guess, judging from his accent, this guy was from Lagos. He held the tray out to her. It was the same meal of jollof rice, goat meat, and water.

“Thank you,” she said. “So, it’s night, then? Do you know what time it is?”

The man didn’t answer. He wouldn’t even look her in the eye. He turned and started walking away.

“Sir? . . . Oga? Did you hear me?” Sunny asked, following him as he walked toward the staircase. He moved quicker. Sunny put her tray on the ground, suddenly feeling panicky and invisible.

“Hey!” she shouted.

“I can’t speak or look at you,” he said stiffly, his back still to her. “The punishment is caning.”

Sunny froze. Samya. She pressed her hand to her chest, shocked. “Oh,” she breathed. “Oh no.” She stepped away from the staircase, listening to the sound of the man’s footsteps grow fainter and fainter. Stay strong, Sunny thought, tears in her eyes. I have to survive this. Otherwise, Samya will have been caned in vain.

She whirled around when she heard a crunch. Her plate of rice looked as if a stone as heavy as a car had fallen on it. A red spider had been crushed beside it, too. The bottled water rolled and came to rest beside a bookcase. She heard the djinn chuckle from the other side of the room.

“That’s really funny,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. Her mother had once told her that if she ever found herself facing a wild animal, never ever show fear. The djinn wasn’t an animal. Well, not one of the physical world at least, but it was certainly wild. Up to now, Sunny had worn her fear on her sleeve. She couldn’t help it; she was scared. However, her mother also liked to say that it was never too late.