The next day I went to Moyo’s again.

He had brought out his chestnut mare already saddled into the field to perfect my riding skills. The first few times learning how to ride had been tough—and once I had even sprained my wrist. After a few days, I’d succeeded in mounting the horse and learnt to steer while trotting. Now, I was sometimes more comfortable on horseback than I was on my feet.

I stood beside the horse, brushing her left side. “Nour, I am happy to see you.”

The horse snorted and bobbed her head.

“You will go riding today,” Moyo said by way of greeting.

“I thought we were training today.”

“This is training,” Moyo retorted, and I hid a smile.

Without any warning, he threw two oranges from his pocket at me, and on instinct, I easily caught them.

“It is because you can do that, that is why you are riding. Your reaction gets sharper each day. I want you to go to Innuere to get me some ori fruit.”

I tossed the oranges back to him and placed my left leg on the strap and mounted, keeping my back straight and adjusting into a balanced position. Moyo followed on the ground as I got Nour walking.

“Do not slouch and make yourself smaller. You tend to do that sometimes. Remain upright, keep your back straight and head up. Do you have your daggers?”

I nodded, shifting my shoulders. He had gifted me twin Assegai daggers last year. I kept one strapped to my hip and one on the other thigh.

I started with a nice trot, moving around the clearing, a soft wind caressing my cheeks. Then, I pressed my heels and calves against Nour’s belly to urge her faster. The feeling was exhilarating.

I wanted to go even faster, so I made a clicking sound and applied more pressure with my legs. Nour went into full speed and I waved goodbye to Moyo as we raced out of the clearing and into the woods.

We rode along the path toward Innuere at breakneck speed. It felt like I was flying, like if Nour and I could move just a little bit faster, we would take to the skies and I could escape all my fears and my pain. Like I could leave Kokori behind and escape my stifling, dreadful future.

I did not realise we were lost until Nour came to a jolting stop, and it took all of Moyo’s training for me to keep my seat.

“What is it, Nour?” I murmured, running a hand along the mare’s neck.

She huffed uneasily, and I glanced around the lush forest, the air sticky with heat and humidity.

Something tugged at my belly, my attention drawn to a small patch of sunlight deep within the trees. I dismounted and led Nour toward it, entering a small clearing in a grove of ancestor trees.

Rays of soft sunlight caressed the moss-covered trees, casting shadows of their leaves on the damp soil. Birds called to each other as they flew from one twisted branch to another. I walked a little bit farther, avoiding the thick roots that wove in and out of the ground.

From here, I could see past the forest to golden-brown grassy plains and, beyond them, the imposing border of the Oron Forest.

No one from Kokori dared go near the Oron Queendom. Thirty years ago, the King of Agbon broke off his engagement to one of the Oron princesses, shattering political relations and starting a feud that was still causing discord. Anyone from Kokori found in Oron would be killed on sight.

Staring at the enormous trees that had been there for ages, I wanted to go there. To cross the threshold and plant my feet in the soil and breathe in the woodsy air. I wanted to go where no Kokori woman in the past thirty years had been and lived to tell the tale.

Then I saw something move within the grassy plain. The creature was fast at first, then it slowed down. It stopped when a gust of wind moved the blades of grass. It began to move again, then suddenly collapsed, disappearing from sight. The hair on my arms rose.

The tugging in my belly beckoned me forward, and I approached the creature, careful not to make any sudden movements. I scanned the Oron Forest for signs of archers, for any guards ready to shoot me dead.

Then I got close enough to see the blood. On the ground, nearly hidden in the tall grass, was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen.

It looked somewhat like a fox. Most of its fur was a brilliant sunset red that gave way to white fur on its stomach. It had long whiskers and dark rings around its eyes, with a long bushy tail. It was small, no bigger than my two fists, and it was curled tightly around itself, purring and wrinkling its nose. I edged closer, my hand just touching the dagger sheathed at my hip. The animal purred again, then made a sound more like a whimper. It turned to its side slightly and I could see a bloody smear across its shoulder. Gently, I picked the creature up and ran as fast as I could back to Nour, who was shifting anxiously on her feet. We had to get back to Moyo’s house. He would know what to do with this…thing.

 

***

Moyo was outside smoking a pipe when I arrived with the creature.

“Good, you’re back,” he said. I stumbled as I dismounted but quickly regained my footing and raced toward him. He put out his hands to slow me. “What is the hurry?”

“I found this in the woods. Do you know what it is?” I shoved the animal into his face. “Can you help with the bleeding?”

Moyo looked at me strangely. “What are you showing me, Naborhi?”

“This,” I said, looking at the animal and raising it even closer to his eyes.

Moyo was looking worriedly between my hands and my face. “There’s nothing in your hand.”

I looked at the animal again and back up at Moyo. 

“Naborhi, are you all right?” he asked. He leaned over to look into my eyes.

“Moyo, you are spinning.”

I staggered, and Moyo lunged to catch me.

I fought hard to stay conscious, but it was futile. Everything faded to black.

I dreamed of the creature.

I was back in the clearing, running through the trees. Ahead was the creature, only it was bigger and taller than the surrounding trees in the encroaching fog. It stared at me for a long time. I felt like it wanted to speak to me. 

Then it turned around and disappeared.

---

SYNOPSIS:  In this mesmerizing fantasy rooted in Urhobo and West African folklore, sixteen-year-old Naborhi longs for a life away from her small, traditional clan in Kokori. But as her rite of passage approaches and she is betrothed to an arrogant young man, Naborhi feels her dreams slipping away from her. Then Naborhi becomes bonded to a mysterious animal and begins having harrowing visions of a kidnapped boy. She soon meets Atai, the son of an Oracle from a rival queendom, and learns that she is being guided by the gods. She and Atai, along with Naborhi’s eager-for-adventure cousin, Tamunor, set off across the continent to rescue the mysterious boy. But when they find him―and find out his true identity―Naborhi realizes there is more than just her freedom at stake: she must stop a war that has already been set in motion. With lush, unique worldbuilding and a dynamic cast of characters, The Smoke That Thunders is a gripping story of political intrigue, fierce love, and what it means to be free.

Excerpted from The Smoke That Thunders by Erhu Kome. Used with permission of the publisher, Narrative Landscape Press. Refrain from reposting or reproducing this content without prior consent.