🔥 Chapter One – When Grandma Stopped the Story
The fire was almost going out.
Only a few red pieces of wood were still glowing.
Grandma Abeni pushed one of them closer with a small stick.
The fire jumped.
A few sparks flew into the dark.
Beside her, a young girl named Sewa pulled her wrapper tighter around her shoulders.
She had been waiting for this moment all evening.
Grandma always told stories at night.
But tonight was different.
Grandma had promised to tell her the story of a village that once disappeared before sunrise.
Sewa leaned closer.
"Grandma, you said this story happened for real."
Grandma looked at her.
"I said it happened."
Sewa smiled.
"That means it is real."
Grandma shook her head slowly.
"Not everything that is real should be repeated."
Sewa's smile disappeared.
"Why?"
Grandma looked into the fire.
"Because some stories remember the people who tell them."
Sewa laughed.
"Stories cannot remember people."
Grandma looked at her again.
"Are you sure?"
Sewa stopped laughing.
The night suddenly felt colder.
Grandma picked up a small piece of wood.
She drew a circle in the sand.
"Many years ago, beyond the red hills, there was a village called Oduka."
Sewa leaned forward.
"Was it a big village?"
Grandma nodded.
"Big enough for three markets, two streams, seven family compounds and one old baobab tree."
Sewa smiled.
"Seven compounds?"
"Seven."
"Why do I feel like the baobab tree is important?"
Grandma smiled.
"Because you are listening."
She stirred the fire.
The flames rose again.
"In Oduka lived a girl named Zuberi."
Sewa quickly interrupted.
"Zuberi was a boy's name."
Grandma laughed.
"Not in this story."
Sewa nodded.
Grandma continued.
Zuberi was fourteen years old.
She was quick with her feet, sharp with her eyes and always asking questions.
If an elder said, "Don't go there," Zuberi wanted to know why.
If someone said, "Don't touch that," she wanted to know what would happen if she touched it.
And if someone said, "Forget what you saw," Zuberi remembered it for years.
One afternoon, she was returning from the stream when she heard something behind the old baobab tree.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
She stopped.
The sound came again.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Zuberi looked around.
Nobody was there.
She walked closer to the tree.
The ground was covered with dry leaves.
Nothing moved.
Then she heard a voice.
"Zuberi."
Sewa's eyes widened.
"Grandma!"
Grandma stopped.
"What?"
"The tree called her name?"
Grandma nodded.
"Yes."
Sewa looked toward the darkness behind Grandma.
"Did she answer?"
Grandma's face became serious.
"That is the mistake she made."
Sewa moved closer.
"What did she say?"
Grandma lowered her voice.
"Who is calling me?"
The fire cracked loudly.
Sewa jumped.
Grandma smiled.
"Don't be afraid."
"I'm not afraid."
"Good."
Grandma continued.
The moment Zuberi answered, the wind stopped.
Every leaf around the baobab tree became still.
Even the birds stopped singing.
Then something moved inside the tree.
Not outside.
Inside.
Zuberi placed her hand against the rough bark.
The tree was warm.
Too warm.
She pulled her hand away.
A small red mark was left on her palm.
Sewa interrupted again.
"What kind of mark?"
Grandma turned her palm upward.
She drew a small circle with her finger.
"A circle."
"Just a circle?"
"At first."
Sewa frowned.
"What happened later?"
Grandma looked into the fire.
"It opened."
Sewa became quiet.
Grandma continued.
That evening, Zuberi returned home.
She said nothing about the tree.
She washed her hands.
She ate her food.
She sat beside her mother.
She even laughed when her little brother spilled water on the floor.
But all through the evening, she kept looking at her palm.
The circle was still there.
Then something strange happened.
The circle moved.
It slowly turned like a tiny wheel beneath her skin.
Zuberi covered her hand.
Her mother noticed.
"What is wrong with your hand?"
Zuberi quickly shook her head.
"Nothing."
Her mother looked at her for a long moment.
Then she said something that frightened Zuberi.
"Did you go near the baobab?"
Zuberi froze.
Sewa leaned closer to Grandma.
"Her mother already knew?"
Grandma nodded.
"Some mothers know things their children think they have hidden."
"What did Zuberi say?"
Grandma stared at Sewa.
"She lied."
Sewa shook her head.
"Why?"
"Because fear makes people hide the truth."
Grandma picked up another piece of wood.
She placed it into the fire.
The flames grew.
"Zuberi said she had not gone near the tree."
Her mother said nothing.
She simply stood up and walked outside.
Zuberi watched her disappear into the darkness.
Then she heard her mother whisper something.
"Not again."
Zuberi followed her to the doorway.
Her mother was standing under the moon.
She was staring toward the old baobab.
Zuberi touched her shoulder.
"Mother?"
Her mother turned quickly.
"Go inside."
"Why?"
Her mother grabbed her wrist.
"Because it has found you."
Zuberi looked toward the tree.
The baobab stood far away.
Its branches were black against the moon.
Then one branch moved.
Slowly.
Like a hand.
Zuberi pulled away from her mother.
"What has found me?"
Her mother did not answer.
Instead, she pulled Zuberi inside and locked the door.
Then she pushed a heavy wooden bench against it.
Zuberi had never seen her mother so afraid.
"Mother, tell me."
Her mother looked at the girl's palm.
The red circle was glowing.
"Your grandmother had this mark."
Zuberi's eyes widened.
"Grandmother?"
Her mother nodded.
"Many years ago."
"What happened to her?"
Her mother became silent.
Zuberi waited.
Then came a sound from outside.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Zuberi looked at the door.
Her mother closed her eyes.
"It has come."
Another sound followed.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
But this time, the sound was not coming from the door.
It was coming from the floor.
Zuberi looked down.
Something was tapping beneath the house.
Her mother grabbed her hand.
"Do not answer it."
The tapping stopped.
Silence filled the room.
Then a child's voice came from beneath the floor.
"Zuberi..."
Zuberi covered her mouth.
Her mother held her tightly.
The voice came again.
"Zuberi, I know you are there."
Sewa suddenly grabbed Grandma's arm.
"Grandma, who was under the house?"
Grandma did not answer.
Sewa waited.
Grandma slowly looked at her.
"That is where the story becomes dangerous."
Sewa swallowed.
"Tell me."
Grandma stared into the fire.
"The voice belonged to a child who had disappeared thirty years earlier."
Sewa's mouth opened.
"Was the child dead?"
Grandma shook her head.
"No."
She paused.
Then she whispered:
"That was the frightening part."
The fire suddenly went out.
Sewa screamed.
Grandma did not move.
From somewhere beyond the darkness came three soft taps.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Sewa looked at Grandma.
"Grandma..."
Grandma slowly reached for her hand.
"Don't answer."
A voice came from the darkness.
"Sewa..."
Grandma's face changed.
She knew that voice.
And before Sewa could ask who it was, Grandma whispered:
"That voice should have died with me."
🌙 End of Chapter One
🌙 Chapter Two – Voice Beneath the House
Sewa did not move.
The fire was gone.
The yard was dark.
Grandma Abeni still held her hand.
Neither of them spoke.
Then the voice came again.
"Sewa..."
Sewa looked at Grandma.
"Grandma, who is that?"
Grandma placed one finger on her lips.
She pointed toward the house.
They waited.
Nothing.
Then came three taps.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Sewa squeezed Grandma's hand.
"Is it the child from the story?"
Grandma nodded slowly.
"Yes."
"But you said that child disappeared thirty years ago."
"I did."
"Then how can it know my name?"
Grandma looked at the dead fire.
"That is what we must find out."
She picked up the lamp beside her.
The small flame shook in the wind.
Sewa stood.
"Are we going inside?"
"Yes."
"Grandma, you just told me not to answer the voice."
Grandma smiled.
"I said don't answer it."
"I didn't say we should not look for it."
They walked toward the house.
The door was open.
Sewa stopped.
"Grandma, did you leave the door open?"
Grandma shook her head.
"No."
They stood outside.
A cold breeze moved through the doorway.
The lamp flame bent.
Sewa looked inside.
Everything looked normal.
The wooden chairs.
The clay pot.
Grandma's old basket.
The small table beside the wall.
But there was something on the floor.
A line of wet footprints.
They began near the doorway.
They crossed the room.
Then they stopped beside the old wooden chest.
Sewa pointed.
"Grandma..."
Grandma raised the lamp.
The footprints were tiny.
Like the feet of a child.
Sewa swallowed.
"Who came inside?"
Grandma walked toward the chest.
"That's what I want to know."
She opened the chest.
Old clothes filled it.
A broken comb.
A wooden spoon.
Two old beads.
And a small red cloth.
Grandma stopped.
Her hand trembled.
Sewa noticed.
"What is it?"
Grandma lifted the cloth.
A small black circle had been sewn into it.
Sewa looked at the mark.
It looked exactly like the mark she had seen on Zuberi's hand in Grandma's story.
"That is the same mark."
Grandma nodded.
"Yes."
"Where did you get it?"
Grandma folded the cloth.
"It belonged to my mother."
Sewa's eyes widened.
"Zuberi?"
Grandma looked at her.
"Yes."
Sewa stepped back.
"Wait."
"Your mother was Zuberi?"
Grandma nodded.
Sewa stared at her.
"But you said this was an old story."
"It is."
"And you said it happened many years ago."
"It did."
Sewa pointed at the cloth.
"Then why do you still have this?"
Grandma became quiet.
She placed the cloth back inside the chest.
"Because my mother gave it to me before she disappeared."
Sewa's face changed.
"She disappeared too?"
Grandma nodded.
"She disappeared on the same night the child vanished."
Sewa looked toward the floor.
The wet footprints were still there.
But now there was another one.
It appeared behind them.
Sewa saw it first.
She grabbed Grandma's arm.
"Don't turn around."
Grandma froze.
"Why?"
"There's a footprint behind us."
Grandma slowly raised the lamp.
The light reached the floor.
One tiny wet footprint was there.
Then another appeared.
Then another.
They were coming toward them.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Sewa whispered:
"Grandma, it's walking."
Grandma pulled her toward the wall.
"Stay behind me."
The footprints stopped.
Silence returned.
Then a small laugh came from beneath the floor.
Sewa covered her mouth.
Grandma's face went pale.
"That's her."
"Who?"
Grandma looked at the floor.
"My mother."
Sewa stared at her.
"Your mother is under this house?"
Grandma did not answer.
The tapping started again.
This time, it came from beneath the chest.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Grandma moved the chest.
There was a wooden trapdoor underneath it.
Sewa had never seen it before.
"Was that always there?"
Grandma shook her head.
"No."
Sewa stared at the trapdoor.
A small metal ring was fixed to it.
Grandma reached down.
Before she could touch it, Sewa stopped her.
"Wait."
Grandma looked at her.
"What?"
"What if the voice wants us to open it?"
Grandma smiled.
"Good question."
"So?"
Grandma lowered the lamp.
"Then we don't open it."
They stepped away.
For a few seconds, nothing happened.
Then the trapdoor moved.
Just a little.
Sewa's eyes widened.
The metal ring lifted by itself.
The trapdoor opened.
A dark hole appeared.
Cold air came from below.
Then a voice whispered:
"Grandma..."
Grandma closed her eyes.
"Mother."
Sewa looked at her.
"She called you Grandma."
Grandma nodded.
"Yes."
"Then she knows you're here."
Grandma looked into the hole.
"She knows more than that."
Sewa leaned closer.
"What does she know?"
A hand slowly appeared inside the hole.
It was small.
Old.
And around one finger was a red thread.
Grandma stepped back.
"Don't touch it."
Sewa looked at the hand.
The fingers moved.
One.
Two.
Three.
Then the hand pointed directly at Sewa.
Sewa's heart began to race.
"Why is she pointing at me?"
Grandma did not answer.
The voice beneath the house whispered:
"She is not your granddaughter."
Sewa looked at Grandma.
"What?"
Grandma stood completely still.
The voice came again.
"Tell her what you did."
Sewa's eyes filled with fear.
"Grandma..."
Grandma looked at her.
For the first time that night, she looked guilty.
"Go outside."
"Why?"
"Now."
Sewa shook her head.
"No. You are hiding something."
Grandma said nothing.
Sewa stepped closer.
"Who am I?"
Grandma looked down.
The red thread around Sewa's finger suddenly tightened.
Sewa screamed.
The trapdoor slammed shut.
The house went dark.
And from beneath the floor came a child's laughter.
"Now she knows."
🌙 End of Chapter Two
🌿 Chapter Three – Name Hidden in the Fire
Sewa stood in the dark.
Her finger still hurt.
The red thread was gone.
But the mark it left behind was still there.
Grandma Abeni held the lamp close to her face.
She looked tired.
Not like the strong woman Sewa knew.
She looked like someone who had been carrying a secret for too many years.
Sewa stared at her.
"Who am I?"
Grandma said nothing.
Sewa stepped closer.
"You heard what the voice said."
Grandma looked at the floor.
"Yes."
"It said I'm not your granddaughter."
Grandma slowly sat on the wooden chair.
"Sit down."
Sewa did not sit.
"No."
Grandma looked at her.
"I want an answer."
Grandma took a deep breath.
"You deserve one."
Sewa waited.
The house was silent.
Even the wind outside had stopped.
Grandma finally spoke.
"Your name was not always Sewa."
Sewa frowned.
"What was it?"
Grandma looked toward the old chest.
"Nala."
Sewa repeated the name quietly.
"Nala."
Grandma nodded.
"That was the name your mother gave you."
Sewa's eyes widened.
"My mother?"
Grandma nodded.
"Yes."
"Where is she?"
Grandma looked away.
Sewa already knew the answer would hurt.
"She died when you were very young."
Sewa shook her head.
"You told me she died because she was sick."
Grandma closed her eyes.
"That was not the truth."
Sewa stepped back.
"Then how did she die?"
Grandma looked toward the floor.
"She went looking for Zuberi."
Sewa's face changed.
"The woman from your story?"
Grandma nodded.
"Zuberi was my mother."
Sewa looked at the old chest.
Suddenly, the story felt different.
It was no longer just a story.
It was her family.
"So Zuberi was my great-grandmother?"
Grandma nodded.
"Yes."
Sewa took a slow breath.
"And the child who disappeared?"
Grandma's face became serious.
"That is where everything began."
A soft sound came from beneath the floor.
Tap.
Sewa looked down.
Grandma did not move.
"Don't worry."
"How can I not worry?"
Another tap.
This time, it came closer.
Sewa whispered:
"Is someone down there?"
Grandma nodded.
"Yes."
"Who?"
Grandma looked at her.
"The child."
Sewa's heart beat faster.
"The child who disappeared thirty years ago?"
"Yes."
"Then how is she still alive?"
Grandma did not answer.
The floor creaked.
A small voice whispered beneath them.
"Grandma."
Sewa froze.
Grandma looked toward the floor.
"I hear you."
The voice laughed softly.
"You always hear me."
Sewa stared at Grandma.
"You have spoken to her before?"
Grandma nodded.
"Many times."
Sewa's mouth fell open.
"Then why did you never tell me?"
Grandma looked ashamed.
"Because I was afraid."
Sewa shook her head.
"Afraid of a child?"
Grandma looked directly at her.
"Not of the child."
"Then what?"
Grandma pointed toward the floor.
"Of what is keeping her there."
Sewa felt a chill run through her body.
"What is keeping her there?"
Grandma stood.
She walked to the old chest.
She opened it again.
This time she removed a small bundle wrapped in brown cloth.
She placed it on the table.
Sewa watched closely.
Grandma opened the bundle.
Inside was an old necklace.
A single wooden bead hung from it.
There was a strange symbol carved into the bead.
Sewa touched it.
The moment her finger touched the wood, the lamp went out.
Sewa pulled her hand away.
The lamp came back on.
Grandma stared at her.
"It knows you."
Sewa looked at the necklace.
"What is it?"
"It belonged to your mother."
"Why does it react to me?"
Grandma took the necklace.
"Because your mother wanted you to have it."
"Then give it to me."
Grandma hesitated.
"I can't."
Sewa frowned.
"Why?"
"Because once you wear it, they will know where you are."
Sewa looked toward the window.
Outside, the old baobab tree stood in the moonlight.
One of its branches was moving.
Slowly.
Back and forth.
Even though there was no wind.
Sewa whispered:
"Grandma."
Grandma followed her eyes.
The branch stopped.
Then something dropped from it.
A small object landed outside the window.
Sewa moved closer.
Grandma grabbed her shoulder.
"Don't go there."
Sewa looked at her.
"What fell?"
"I don't know."
Then came a sound.
A soft knock against the window.
Sewa turned.
There was a little girl standing outside.
She looked about eight years old.
Her dress was wet.
Her hair covered most of her face.
Sewa could not move.
The girl slowly lifted her head.
Her eyes met Sewa's.
Then she smiled.
"Nala."
Sewa's heart stopped.
Grandma whispered behind her:
"Don't answer."
The girl tapped the glass.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Sewa stared at her.
"Grandma, she knows my old name."
Grandma said nothing.
The little girl pointed toward the ground.
Then she pointed toward Sewa.
Then she made a finger across her throat.
Sewa stepped back.
"What does she want?"
Grandma looked frightened.
"She is warning you."
"Warning me about what?"
The little girl suddenly turned toward the baobab.
Something tall was standing beneath it.
Sewa could not see its face.
The little girl began to shake.
She pointed at the figure.
Then she pointed at Sewa.
Grandma grabbed the lamp.
"Get away from the window."
Sewa obeyed.
Grandma pulled the curtain shut.
Then the entire house shook.
The old chest fell over.
The necklace dropped to the floor.
The wooden bead rolled toward Sewa.
It stopped at her feet.
Sewa looked down.
The symbol on it was glowing.
Then she heard a voice.
Not from beneath the floor.
Not from outside.
The voice came from inside the necklace.
"Find the seventh stone."
Sewa looked at Grandma.
"What seventh stone?"
Grandma's face became pale.
"The one your mother died looking for."
Sewa stared at her.
"Where is it?"
Grandma slowly pointed toward the old baobab tree.
"Under its roots."
A loud crack came from outside.
The little girl at the window was gone.
The tall figure was gone too.
But something had been left behind.
A single wet footprint.
Right outside the window.
Sewa looked at Grandma.
"Tomorrow, we find the stone."
Grandma shook her head.
"No."
Sewa frowned.
"Why not?"
Grandma looked toward the baobab.
"Because tomorrow is too late."
Sewa's eyes widened.
"What do you mean?"
Grandma pointed at the sky.
The moon was slowly disappearing behind dark clouds.
"The tree has already opened."
A deep sound came from outside.
Like something breathing beneath the ground.
Grandma took Sewa's hand.
"We have until the moon disappears."
Sewa looked toward the baobab.
A crack had appeared in the earth beneath it.
And from inside the crack, a red thread slowly crawled toward the house.
🌙 End of Chapter Three
🌳 Chapter Four – Beneath the Old Baobab
Grandma Abeni pulled the door shut.
She did not lock it.
There was no time.
The red thread was already moving across the ground.
Slowly.
Quietly.
Straight toward the house.
Sewa stood beside Grandma.
"Grandma, what happens if it reaches us?"
Grandma picked up the old lamp.
"Then we follow it."
Sewa stared at her.
"Follow it?"
"Yes."
"But you said we should never go near the tree."
Grandma looked at her.
"I also said some warnings are meant to keep you alive until the right time."
Sewa looked toward the window.
The moon was still hiding behind the clouds.
The red thread reached the doorstep.
It stopped.
Then it moved inside.
Sewa stepped back.
The thread passed between her feet.
It moved toward the necklace on the floor.
The wooden bead began to shake.
Sewa bent down.
Grandma stopped her.
"Don't touch it yet."
"Why?"
Grandma pointed at the bead.
A tiny crack had appeared across it.
Inside the crack was something white.
Sewa leaned closer.
It looked like a small piece of bone.
"What is inside it?"
Grandma's voice became low.
"A message."
"How can bone carry a message?"
Grandma gave a small smile.
"Because people leave messages in strange places when they know they may never return."
She took the bead.
She pressed it between her fingers.
The crack opened.
A tiny piece of folded paper fell out.
Sewa quickly picked it up.
There were only six words written on it.
"Do not trust the seventh stone."
Sewa looked at Grandma.
"But you said we have to find it."
Grandma nodded.
"I know."
"Then why does the message say not to trust it?"
Grandma folded the paper.
"Because the stone is not the danger."
"Then what is?"
Grandma looked toward the baobab.
"The person who finds it first."
Sewa felt a chill.
A loud sound came from outside.
Something had fallen against the fence.
Grandma lifted the lamp.
Sewa moved behind her.
They stepped outside.
The night was still.
Too still.
The village houses were dark.
No dogs barked.
No insects sang.
Even the leaves seemed frozen.
Grandma pointed at the road.
A line of wet footprints crossed it.
Sewa stared.
"Those are the child's footprints."
Grandma nodded.
"Yes."
The footprints led toward the baobab.
Sewa looked at Grandma.
"Maybe she wants us to follow her."
Grandma shook her head.
"Maybe."
"That doesn't sound like a good idea."
Grandma smiled.
"At least you are learning."
They walked.
One step at a time.
The old baobab grew larger.
Its trunk looked like a giant body standing in the dark.
Sewa stopped.
"Grandma."
Grandma stopped too.
"What?"
Sewa pointed at the ground.
There were seven stones.
Six were black.
One was white.
They were arranged in a circle around the tree.
Sewa counted them.
"One."
"Two."
"Three."
"Four."
"Five."
"Six."
She pointed at the white stone.
"Seven."
Grandma's face changed.
"Don't touch it."
Sewa stepped back.
"That is the seventh stone."
Grandma nodded.
"Yes."
"But we just got here."
"I know."
Sewa looked around.
"Then who put it here?"
Grandma slowly raised the lamp.
There were fresh footprints around the tree.
Not child-sized this time.
They were large.
Bare feet.
They circled the tree.
Then disappeared behind it.
Sewa whispered:
"Someone is here."
Grandma nodded.
"Yes."
A branch moved above them.
Sewa looked up.
Nothing.
Then a voice came from behind the tree.
"Abeni."
Grandma froze.
Sewa looked at her.
"Who called you?"
Grandma whispered:
"Someone who should not know my name."
The voice came again.
"Abeni..."
Grandma took Sewa's hand.
"Stay behind me."
They moved around the tree.
Nobody was there.
Only a small hole in the ground.
Sewa pointed.
"Is that where the stone came from?"
Grandma shook her head.
"No."
She looked at the white stone.
"That stone has been waiting here longer than this tree."
Sewa frowned.
"How can a stone wait?"
Grandma smiled sadly.
"Ask the ancestors."
The ground suddenly shook.
The six black stones sank into the earth.
Only the white stone remained.
Sewa stepped back.
A crack appeared across the white stone.
Then another.
Something inside it began to glow.
Grandma grabbed Sewa.
"Run!"
They turned.
But the footprints behind them were gone.
The path back to the village was no longer there.
Trees stood where the path had been.
Sewa looked around.
"Grandma, where is the road?"
Grandma's face became pale.
"It moved."
"Roads don't move."
Grandma looked at the tree.
"This one does."
The white stone split open.
A bright red light came from inside.
Sewa heard a child's voice.
"Nala..."
She turned.
The little girl stood beside the tree.
Her wet dress was covered in mud.
Her face was clearer now.
Sewa could see her eyes.
They looked exactly like hers.
Sewa stared.
"Who are you?"
The girl smiled.
"You really don't remember me?"
Sewa shook her head.
The girl pointed at Grandma.
"Ask her."
Sewa turned to Grandma.
"Grandma?"
Grandma looked at the girl.
Tears filled her eyes.
"I thought you were gone."
The girl smiled.
"You left me."
Sewa's heart raced.
"Grandma, what is she talking about?"
Grandma lowered her head.
"I was young."
"What did you do?"
Grandma looked at Sewa.
"I made a promise."
"To who?"
Grandma pointed at the seventh stone.
"To the ancestors."
The little girl stepped forward.
"And she broke it."
Sewa looked at the girl.
"What promise?"
The girl smiled.
"She promised to give them one child."
Sewa's eyes widened.
Grandma started crying.
"But I changed my mind."
The girl pointed at Sewa.
"So you gave them her."
Sewa stepped away from Grandma.
"Me?"
Grandma reached for her.
"Sewa, listen to me."
Sewa pulled her hand away.
"Did you give me to them?"
Grandma could not answer.
The little girl laughed.
"Now you understand."
The seventh stone began to glow brighter.
The red thread shot from the crack.
It wrapped around Sewa's wrist.
Grandma screamed.
"Run, Nala!"
Sewa stared at her.
"My name is Sewa."
The little girl shook her head.
"Not anymore."
The earth opened beneath Sewa's feet.
Grandma grabbed her.
But the red thread pulled harder.
Sewa slipped.
Her feet left the ground.
She screamed.
"Grandma!"
Grandma held her with both hands.
The little girl stood beside the seventh stone.
She was smiling.
"Let her go."
Grandma shook her head.
"Never."
The girl looked at her.
"Then you will come too."
Grandma went silent.
Sewa looked at her.
"Grandma, don't let go."
Grandma tightened her grip.
"I won't."
Then something whispered from inside the hole.
"Abeni..."
Grandma froze.
The voice was old.
It sounded like Zuberi.
Grandma looked down.
A second hand came out of the earth.
It grabbed her ankle.
Grandma cried out.
Sewa screamed.
The little girl stopped smiling.
For the first time, she looked afraid.
"No..."
Grandma looked at her.
"What is wrong?"
The girl stepped backward.
"The seventh stone was never supposed to open."
Sewa looked at the glowing stone.
A deep voice came from beneath it.
"Now it has."
The ground shook again.
And something enormous began to rise beneath the old baobab.
🌙 End of Chapter Four
✨ Chapter Five – (Coming Soon)
🔥 Chapter Five – The Story Grandma Never Told
The ground shook again.
Sewa held Grandma Abeni's hand.
Neither of them moved.
The old baobab made a deep cracking sound.
Its roots lifted from the earth.
Dust filled the air.
Something was rising beneath them.
Sewa coughed and covered her mouth.
"Grandma, what is coming out?"
Grandma did not answer.
She was staring at the ground.
Her face had lost its color.
"Grandma?"
She finally spoke.
"I don't know."
The little girl stood near the seventh stone.
She looked frightened.
"You must leave."
Sewa looked at her.
"Who are you?"
The girl looked down.
"My name is Kito."
Sewa repeated the name.
"Kito."
The girl nodded.
"I knew you before you became Sewa."
Sewa's heart beat faster.
"Where?"
Kito pointed beneath the tree.
"Here."
Sewa looked at Grandma.
"Was I here before?"
Grandma closed her eyes.
"Yes."
Sewa's mouth fell open.
"When?"
"On the night you were born."
Sewa stared at her.
"You brought me here?"
Grandma nodded.
"I had no choice."
Sewa shook her head.
"There is always a choice."
Grandma looked at her.
"Not when you are afraid of losing your whole family."
The earth shook again.
A huge root broke through the ground.
Under it was a dark wooden door.
Sewa stared.
"Another door?"
Grandma nodded.
"This is the door I told you never existed."
"Why?"
Grandma looked at Kito.
"Because behind it is the place where the promise was made."
Kito shook her head.
"No."
Grandma looked at her.
"What?"
"The promise was not made there."
Grandma froze.
"Then where?"
Kito pointed at Sewa.
"Inside her."
Sewa stepped back.
"What does that mean?"
Kito came closer.
She pointed at the mark on Sewa's wrist.
"The promise was put inside you."
Sewa looked at Grandma.
"Is that true?"
Grandma nodded.
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Yes."
Sewa felt angry.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Grandma reached for her.
Sewa stepped away.
"You kept all this from me."
"I wanted you to have a normal life."
"You gave me a fake life."
Grandma lowered her head.
"I know."
Sewa wiped her eyes.
"Then tell me everything."
Grandma looked toward the moon.
The clouds were moving away.
The moonlight slowly returned.
"When your mother gave birth to you, the elders came."
Sewa listened.
"They said you were born with a special mark."
"They believed the mark belonged to the ancestors."
"They wanted to take you."
Sewa swallowed.
"And my mother?"
"She refused."
"What did she do?"
Grandma looked at Kito.
"She asked me to help her hide you."
Sewa's voice became soft.
"Did you?"
Grandma nodded.
"Yes."
"Then what happened?"
Grandma looked at the seventh stone.
"I made a deal."
"With the ancestors?"
"Yes."
Sewa waited.
"What did you promise them?"
Grandma's voice shook.
"I promised that one day, when you were old enough to understand, I would bring you back."
Sewa stared at her.
"So you were always going to bring me here?"
Grandma nodded.
"I thought I would have more time."
"Time for what?"
Grandma looked at Sewa.
"To find another way."
Sewa was quiet.
Then she looked at Kito.
"Why do you want me to leave?"
Kito looked at the wooden door.
"Because they are awake."
"Who?"
Kito whispered:
"The ones who were buried with the promise."
A cold wind swept through the trees.
The wooden door opened slightly.
A voice came from inside.
"Nala."
Sewa froze.
Grandma grabbed her hand.
"Don't answer."
The voice came again.
"Nala."
Sewa looked at the dark doorway.
"Who is there?"
Grandma gasped.
"You answered."
The seventh stone suddenly turned black.
Kito screamed.
"Run!"
Something moved inside the doorway.
Two pale eyes appeared in the darkness.
Sewa could not look away.
The eyes came closer.
Then a woman stepped out.
She wore an old blue dress.
Her hair was covered with dust.
Sewa stared at her face.
There was something familiar about her.
Very familiar.
"Grandma..."
Grandma was crying.
"Don't look at her."
Sewa whispered:
"Why?"
Grandma looked at the woman.
"Because that is your mother."
Sewa's breath stopped.
The woman smiled.
She opened her arms.
"Nala."
Sewa took one step forward.
Grandma held her back.
"That is not your mother."
Sewa looked confused.
"But you just said it was."
Grandma shook her head.
"I said she looks like your mother."
The woman smiled wider.
Her eyes suddenly changed.
They became completely black.
Kito moved behind Sewa.
"Don't let her touch you."
The woman stretched out her hand.
"Come to me, Nala."
Sewa stood still.
Then the woman whispered something only Sewa could hear.
"Your mother is not dead."
Sewa's eyes widened.
The woman smiled.
"She is waiting for you."
Sewa turned to Grandma.
"Is my mother alive?"
Grandma's silence was the answer.
Sewa's heart began to race.
"You lied about that too?"
Grandma looked broken.
"I had to."
The woman laughed.
The sound echoed through the trees.
Then the ground opened behind her.
A narrow staircase appeared beneath the baobab.
At the bottom was a warm golden light.
Sewa could hear someone crying down there.
A woman's voice.
Soft.
Weak.
Calling her name.
"Nala..."
Sewa looked at Grandma.
"That's my mother."
Grandma shook her head.
"No."
"How do you know?"
Grandma looked toward the staircase.
"Because your mother has been calling you from there for twenty years."
Sewa felt a chill.
"Twenty years?"
Grandma nodded.
"Every night."
Sewa stared into the staircase.
Then she heard another voice.
This one sounded like her own.
"Come down, Sewa."
Sewa stepped back.
The voice continued.
"Come and see what Grandma buried."
Grandma suddenly dropped the lamp.
It went out.
And in the darkness, Sewa heard Grandma whisper:
"She found the secret."
Kito grabbed Sewa's hand.
"Now we have to run."
Sewa looked at the dark staircase one last time.
Something was standing at the bottom.
It was holding a photograph.
A photograph of Sewa as a baby.
And beside the baby stood a woman Sewa had never seen before.
The woman was wearing the same necklace Grandma had hidden.
Sewa whispered:
"Who is that?"
Grandma answered from the darkness.
"Your real grandmother."
Then the staircase disappeared.
And the photograph fell onto the ground.
🌙 The End