Fantasy Trope:
The Mundane World versus the Magical World (http://darkmythology-dark234.blogspot.com/2011/05/monster-of-yoruba-mythology.html)
Current Event:
http://www.runningthesahara.com/bios.html
A Library to
rival the one at Alexandria is nearly done in the center of the Sahara in the
Erg of Bilmah. The dark forces of America: Jersey Devils, Yuma Skeletons, Wampus
Cats, Bigfoot, Headless Horsemen, Mosquitoes, Trickster Coyotes, Maids in the
Mist and Pecos Bill and his legions have been unable to stop the mundane
efforts of a young man in America as he makes his way to the Library with a
powerful book of spells. It’s now us to the forces of the legendary Sahara:
mummies, Ewaipanoma, monster scorpions,
giant Desert Rattlers, raging sandstorms, the Kelb-el-Khela and an abiku
sent to steal him before he gets old enough to stop him from bringing to book
to the Library and locking it away for all time…
Na’Rodney Jones
Castillo-Vargas Daylight Hatshepsut – known as Na’Rodney to his friends...when
he had friends. He shook his head. He had a mission. He hiked his pack up on
his shoulders. They’d escaped the dearrs outside of Ely. They’d eventually made
it to what remained of the city of Duluth. Selling a first edition copy of
Stephen King’s novel, CARRIE had gotten them enough to pay their way as they
hitchhiked south to the future Vertical Village of Minneapolis St Paul
Angelique Mary
Ozaawindib, longtime friend of his great uncle’s and now the bane of his
existence, muttered, “I thought we were supposed to buy transportation south.”
“We’re going
south. I think we should save our money.”
“That’s because
you have a good pair of walking boots.”
“You could have
brought yours. G’uncle had a pair of them in the shelter.”
She snorted as
they crunched through pile of dried leaves. Farther north, where they’d
started, the burned-out remains of the home he’d grown up in lay on the
outskirts of Ely. Farther behind them, silent but obedient, his brother Payne –
not really his brother, his second cousin or something like that, G’uncle Bruce
had never been real clear on their relationship – had walked tirelessly. Na’Rodney
shot a look over his shoulder. Angelique said, “He’ll be all right, Rod.”
“I don’t know
what I’m going to do with him,” he said faintly. The last thing in the world he
wanted to do was appear weak in front of Angelique. Not because he cared what
she thought of him, but because somebody had to lead their group and it sure as
heck wasn’t going to be Payne or Angelique! He said, “I don’t know where he got
all those wild ideas about wampus cats, Pecos Bill, and...”
Though he’d been
silent for miles, Payne spoke up now, “They’re all real, Na’Rodney! They’re out
to get us! To get you! They don’t like the books you’re carrying. They don’t
want us to go to the Erg of Bilma!”
Na’Rodney and
Angelique stopped in their tracks and turned slowly to face Payne. He was
looking at both of them. His eyes were wide; the pupils nearly black. Rod
stepped back to Payne, holding out his
hands. “What did you say, Payne?”
“They don’t want
us to go, Na’Rodney! They want us to go back home.”
Na’Rodney looked
back at Angelique, then at Payne, “Payne. Listen to me. Bruce is gone.”
“When will he
get back?”
“He won’t be
coming back,” Na’Rodney said, hanging
his head. How could he make Payne understand?
Suddenly, Payne
said, “G’uncle’s dead, Rod. I know that. But the things – the American ghosts
and monsters – they don’t want us to go. They want to kill us.” His eyes grew
wider momentarily, seemed to glow and abruptly a darker, deeper, gravelly voice
came from his mouth and said...
Names: ♀
French, Hebrew, Ojibwe; ♂
African American, English, Mexican, English, Egyptian
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