Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Toussaint’s first memory is of Mama telling him that he had to keep a secret.

Then, she told him about Baba.

How he had been a king in Africa, and a warrior, and the bravest man in the world, determined to build bridges and connect hearts. Baba died in Thanatos’s Snap, and even though he was gone, Toussaint had to be careful, in case his enemies were still around.

And Toussaint was good, and Toussaint listened, and Toussaint said nothing.

But then, when Toussaint was almost five, everyone who was Snapped came back. Including Baba.

And Baba came to see him.

He remembers Baba smiling at the door and kneeling down so they could be face to face. He had a nice smile. He doesn’t remember everything they did together, but Mama tells him that they would watch movies and eat by the fire and swim in the sea. He does remember that Baba was comfortable, right away, and how he would hold Toussaint to help him go to sleep. He remembers that Baba smelled of sunlight.

Baba would be gone in Wakanda for months at a time, but Mama was happier, now, because they could talk to him whenever they needed. And Toussaint was happy, too.

But then, Baba got sick. He came back to Haiti once more, and then he was gone again, forever this time.

They didn’t go to the funeral because Baba asked them not to go. Instead, Mama held him tight and his shirt got wet, and told him new stories about Baba. She showed him pictures and recordings she kept hidden in secret places in their house, and she pointed out things that Baba would have found beautiful, that Baba would have liked. And Toussaint found them beautiful, and Toussaint liked them too.

Their neighbors knew Toussaint’s father died, but they did not know they had watched Baba’s memorial on the news. And Toussaint was good, and did not tell them.

Toussaint’s mama is headmistress of a whole school, and because she teaches everything, she knows everything.

Mama teaches him Kreole, French, and English at school. At home, he learns Xhosa. How to hold his tongue to make the right clicks, so that he says his Wakandan name correctly. So that he says his grandfather’s name correctly. One day, they will return to Wakanda and he will need to know these things.

They are Haitian, too, though. Mama cooks local food and laughs with her friends and encourages Toussaint to make friends, to play, and to not be afraid.

But she also teaches him to listen to his stomach, to watch for signs that someone might be dangerous. She teaches him that the best way to keep a secret is to listen more than talk.

Toussaint’s grandmother became queen when Baba died, so she is very busy and almost never visits Haiti. When she does, she smiles warmly at Toussaint, and tips his chin up with her fingers to look at him, and tells him how much he looks like Baba. He likes Grandmother; her perfume smells good, and her lipstick is a pretty color.

The last time he sees her, she takes Mama with her.

While Mama is gone, Toussaint stays with Josephine’s family. Josephine is his friend; he’s known Josephine since he was a baby, so her house is basically like his house anyways. When Mama calls him, she sounds distracted and far away. She tells him she loves him so much and that she will return to him soon. Toussaint believes her, but he’s also distracted by playing with Josephine and her little brother, and doesn’t think about it.

Josephine’s mama gets worried, because Mama is gone longer than she said she would be, but she says it’s not a problem because they love having Toussaint stay with them so they are happy they get to have him for longer.

Then, suddenly, Mama says she’s coming back, that everything is done.

The night Mama comes home starts out wonderful. They go out to eat lambi at Mama’s favorite restaurant and when they get home he climbs into her bed to cuddle, hoping she falls asleep before he does, so she won’t carry him back to his room. When they are curled up together, she kisses his forehead and hugs him tight.

“Baby, I have something important to tell you.”

Toussaint tenses; Mama was happy and smiling during dinner, but now there’s a weird wobble in her voice, it makes his stomach twist.

Very softly, Mama tells him that Grandmother is gone, in the same way she told him that Baba was gone. Toussaint doesn’t cry, though his chest feels a little hollow after she says it. But if Baba can go away, so can anyone. It makes sense.

Then, Mama takes a deep, slow breath.

Someone else is coming to see them. Someone very, very special. Someone she’s wanted him to meet for a long time. Someone like them, who can keep a secret.

A couple of weeks later, Auntie arrives in Haiti.

Auntie is very young for an aunt, and long and thin with short hair — not at all like Josephine’s plump Aunt Marie, or Antoine’s Aunt Esther. She cries the first time she meets Toussaint. But she does not cry for long; very soon, Toussaint learns to find Auntie by her laughter.

Auntie is fun; she plays with Toussaint in the sand, and explores with him around Cap-Haitien, both on foot and on bicycle, though she struggles with the tricky brakes. Toussaint teaches her how to lean into the bike, and use that to slow down her momentum without flying off. He shows her the blocks where the homes look like old-fashioned candy houses and they make up stories about the people inside.

At home, she helps Mama cook dinner and sometimes messes it up, which Mama finds very funny. Toussaint also finds it funny, especially because when he laughs at her, Auntie will make him help her try again.

Mama both laughs more and sings more with Auntie here. She fusses over Auntie like she’s one of Mama’s students, even though Auntie is all grown up. She dumps huge plates of food in front of Auntie and makes her eat it all, especially all of her vegetables. It makes Toussaint feel better, especially when Auntie pulls a face at him. It feels like they have secrets together; good secrets.

Unfortunately, Toussaint is not allowed to miss school even though Auntie is here. Toussaint thinks it’s very unfair; all day long, Auntie has no one to play with. He’s asked her what she does when he’s in school, and Auntie says that she usually goes for walks on the beach. She says she will be very busy when she goes back to Wakanda, so right now she’s enjoying the quiet.

”What do you do in Wakanda?” Toussaint asks Auntie, while they are sitting in the lounge chairs right outside the door one lazy afternoon. Auntie has stretched out her long body across the length of the chair like a cat, like she‘s trying to soak up all the sun that she possibly can.

”I am a scientist, Toussaint. I run experiments with vibranium in my laboratory. You know what vibranium is?”

He nods. Of course he does — who doesn’t know? It’s one of the big secrets: he can’t tell anyone about the vibranium under his lip or on the cord around his neck.

“It is an incredible element, Toussaint. There is still so much we don’t know about it. Me and my team run experiments to see how we can use it to help improve people’s lives.”

”What kind of experiments are you working on now?”

“Sound experiments. Wakanda has vibranium shields to help us avoid protection and create barriers. Now, we want to understand how vibranium can be used to detect types of structures underwater.”

“Like sonar?” Toussaint has been reading about whales, and Mama has told him about submarines. He likes showing off his knowledge to Auntie; she knows so much, she can usually teach him something new.

Auntie beams at him. “Yes, but better.”

“Can you do your experiments here? I want to try one.”

“Maybe in the future. They take time to set up, if you are going to run them well. Right now, I’d rather spend my time with you.”

Toussaint glows, happy. Like he has a reactor for a heart.

Auntie has her own secrets, too.

The biggest one: she’s the new Black Panther.

It won’t be a secret to the world forever, but it is right now. Mama says that the Black Panther went away when Baba died, but because Auntie is the smartest person in the world, she found a way to bring it back.

”That is not how it happened,” Auntie objects. “I could not have done it on my own.”

”But it was your accomplishment. You brought back a god’s blessing.”

”I would not call it a blessing—“

”Enough,” says Mama, in her best Stern Headmistress, Do Not Argue voice. Toussaint giggles.

The Black Panther has been passed down Bashenga’s line for generations. Baba was the Black Panther, and now Auntie is the Black Panther, and that means that one day, Toussaint will be the Black Panther, too.

“What does the Black Panther do?” he asks Auntie, leaning back against her chest as they sit on the sofa. She’s not as comfy as Mama, but he likes when she locks her arms around him and squeezes him close.

“We protect Wakanda. What I will do now is find bad people who want to hurt us, or others, and stop them.”

“Like the Avengers?” Toussaint loves the Avengers. There are all kinds of stories about how they saved the world. The Hulk is his second favorite, after Baba — though Mama doesn’t think Baba counts as an Avenger, because she doesn’t like them.

Sure enough, Mama’s knife, which had been tap-tap-tapping behind them, pauses.

“They are not the same,” says Mama severely, and when Toussaint turns around he sees her frowning. “The Black Panther was Bast’s gift to Bashenga to help him unite the tribes as shaman. The Avengers were formed by the American government to clean up the messes they don’t want to take credit for.”

”And aliens,” Toussaint points out. He thinks Mama forgets that sometimes.

Mama flicks her hand, which is still holding her paring knife, like she could threaten the aliens herself. “Pah! They still had something to do with it.”

Auntie smirks and shakes her head, and Toussaint can’t tell if she agrees with Mama or not.

“I might work with the Avengers,“ she says to Toussaint. “But it will have to be after we tell the world the Black Panther has returned.”

“Does that mean I will work with them one day, too?”

“Hopefully not,” says Mama, making a face like she does when the fish has gone bad. “I would hope the world wouldn’t need them by then.”

“I can meet them though, right?” He wants to see if the Hulk is really as big as he looks.

Auntie winks at him. “Maybe.”

After Toussaint begs a little bit, Auntie shows him the Black Panther suit.

Before she does, they have to make sure the curtains are drawn and that no one can see into the house. She shows him her necklace and explains how the suit comes out of it. It’s not like a scuba suit you have to wiggle into: the suit speckles out and swallows Auntie’s whole body and face. It’s pretty, sparkling black and gold, and when he pokes Auntie’s arm the material feels softer than he expected; Auntie can move in it like she’s just wearing a second skin.

“Can you make me one?” he asks, excited, after Auntie shows him the retractable claws in the fingertips — he could use it to climb up trees without falling. Maybe. If Mama is not too close by.

”When you’re old enough.”

“Mama says we should always start things early,” says Toussaint, slyly.

But Mama’s voice cuts down the hallway. “I meant your chores, not combat training!”

Auntie snickers.

”Auntie, what do you think?” Toussaint appeals, because when he appeals to Auntie about problems like bedtime or new foods, Mama sometimes relents.

”Ask me again later,” laughs Auntie. “I’m still getting started. But right now, listen to your mama. You have your football, and games with your friends. Keep playing, stay active, and we’ll see the next time I visit, okay?”

Toussaint scowls tremendously at the reminder. Because to protect everyone, Auntie has to go back to Wakanda.

Toussaint is less happy about that.

“I wish you could stay here,” he tells Auntie later, sitting together on the patio. Mama is staying late at school for headmistress duties, so Auntie came to take him home early. Auntie showed him how to pull a puzzle apart, and now he’s trying to fit it all back together all by himself. It’s a puzzle that Auntie made especially for him, so he needs to solve it before she leaves. He got the first three pieces — only seven more to go.

Auntie rests her chin on her folded arms, wrapped around her drawn-up knees. He can see her tattoos like this — she explained them to him, but he’s forgotten already. Maybe she’ll forget and tomorrow he can ask her again, and actually remember what she says this time.

“I’d like to stay with you, too,” she says. “It’s so nice to be with you and your mama.”

“Yeah.” He makes a few more turns with the puzzle, then has to undo them, still frowning. “We didn’t even go swimming. Do you swim?”

“I can, but I do not do it very often. I would swim with you if you wanted to, though. Do you and your mama swim together a lot?”

“Sometimes,” says Toussaint. “I swim more with Josephine’s family. But Baba and I swam together a lot the last time he visited.”

“Did he?”

“Yeah. He got tired fast, so we didn’t go out far, but he could do it. If you had come, we could have swum together.”

Auntie’s face falls, and Toussaint feels shame flush up his face.

“It’s okay,” he says quickly, so that she doesn’t get sad. “I’m glad you’re here now.”

Auntie just hugs herself a little tighter, her face still sad. Toussaint watches, then scoots so that he’s sitting against her chair, his shoulder bumping her knee, the way he does when Mama gets quiet. Auntie smiles and reaches out to poke at his shoulder, then swings her legs down so they are sitting side by side.

“Me too,” she says. She pauses, shuffles to hug herself tighter, all coiled up. “But we can still talk, too, even when I’m in Wakanda. Through your mama’s beads or her terrible laptop.” Auntie and Mama keep arguing about the laptop, and other computers at her school. Auntie wants to improve them; Mama says she does not need them to be improved as long as they work.

“Mama says the laptop is not good for talking to Wakanda,” says Toussaint. “I wish I had kimoyo beads so I could talk to you more.”

“You do?”

Toussaint nods, then goes back to struggling with the fourth piece of the puzzle — it looks like it should be a corner, but it’s not, somehow.

“Try turning it to the left,” Auntie advises.

He does, and it clicks in, and then so does the rest of the puzzle, in quick succession, and it turns into a cube. Auntie grins, delighted, when he holds it up to her. “You got it.”

Auntie is the smartest woman in the world; he’ll miss her when she’s gone.

The Saturday before Auntie is supposed to go back to Wakanda, Mama wants to spend the day in town together. Auntie went on one of her long morning walks, so Mama asks Toussaint to go down to the beach to see if she’s coming back.

He finds her quickly — except Auntie is not walking, but standing in the surf.

At first, it just looks like Auntie is watching across the water. But as Toussaint gets closer, he realizes that there’s a man in the water in front of her. That’s new — Auntie is friendly enough to their neighbors, but usually she doesn’t talk much without Mama around. And Toussaint can’t tell who the man is, and he knows most people here on sight.

But before Toussaint blinks, the man is gone, and Auntie is trudging back to shore.

“Toussaint, you’re up early.” Auntie sounds a little out of breath, like she’s been running. There’s a big conch shell in her hands. “What are you doing here?”

“Mama wants us to go shopping,” He looks past her, but there’s no one in the water, not even a ripple or an arm swimming away. “Who were you talking to?”

“Just someone I needed to talk to. A…a friend.He wanted to give me this,” says Auntie, holding up the shell. She’s talking faster than usual, like she had too much coffee, all jittery. “Let’s not keep your mama waiting, Toussaint. Hurry.”

Mama frowns when she sees the conch shell; Toussaint should have told Auntie that Mama is strict about bringing in souvenirs from the ocean because she thinks it’s better to leave them alone. But she says nothing when Auntie places it on the tallest shelf. Then, they go out to lunch, and Toussaint forgets about the man while Auntie tells a long story about how silly Baba used to be about Mama. They have fun, and play football on the patio until the sun goes down.

But that night, he hears Auntie and Mama stay up very late, speaking Xhosa. He doesn’t know enough to really understand, but he thinks Auntie is apologizing, because Mama keeps saying it is not your fault, don’t worry. No harm will come of this.

He frowns into his pillow, wondering why Auntie thinks she did something wrong. Mama wasn’t angry at her, and he can tell when Mama is angry, so why does she sound so worried?

But in the morning, Auntie is as cheerful as she usually is, giggling with Mama, and Mama offers to make pancakes when Toussaint comes out to the kitchen, and Toussaint doesn’t ask more questions. Auntie looks happy this morning, and he wants her to stay that way.

Auntie cries when she hugs Mama goodbye, like she did the first day they met, and this time Toussaint wants to cry too. But he tries to be brave and grown up when she kneels down in front of him, wiping her eyes.

“I have a gift for you,” she says, and hands him a slim square of vibranium. “I made it while you were in school. Give me your birth bead, and I’ll show you.”

Auntie has him move his birth bead over it, and the square shimmers to life with Wakandan symbols that reflect his face, making him gasp.

“I call it an Eagle’s Eye,” says Auntie, with a lopsided smile. “It’s the first of its kind. You can use it to see things that are far away, record your voice, and anything else you like. But only for you.”

Toussaint likes the sound of that. “No one else can use it?”

Both Mama and Auntie nod. “Not unless you want them to. It will only open for you. And it can help you practice your Xhosa. It is connected to Griot, so if you want, we can send each other messages.”

“Secret messages?”

“Sure.” Auntie laughs, and it breaks a little bit, like she’s trying to hold back tears the way she did on that first day. “Anytime. Call me anytime, and I’ll answer as soon as I can.”

“How do I carry it?” It’s too big to just fit into his pocket, and he doesn’t want anyone to think it’s something else.

“Well, now you will see why I call it an Eagle. Vibranium is very flexible, you see. Watch.”

She helps him fold it up, until it looks like a bird, almost like a good luck charm. Toussaint looks at the little bird, now cupped in his hand. Mama touches the back of his neck gently.

“Thank you,” he manages to say, but he can’t look at Auntie anymore, with her eyes like that.

“And remember that you are welcome here anytime,” says Mama to Auntie. “No matter what. Don’t ever hesitate to come here. We can take care of ourselves, but we would rather see you than not.”

Auntie takes a deep breath, and nods.

Toussaint cries after her truck takes her away. He scrubs hard at his eyes, because Mama doesn’t need to see him cry, but she picks him up.

”It’s okay, baby,” she says. “Let it out.”

Toussaint nearly loses the Eagle’s Eye less than a week after he gets it.

He’s out on the rocks around the tide pools, so that he can study the soft anemones and little crabs. He thought the water should be low around this time, but he is wrong; while he inspects the weird patterns of plant life, a particularly big wave sweeps over the raised rock bed where he’s placed his school bag. Toussaint is able to grab the bag, but not the Eagle’s Eye when it slips out.

With the water like this, Toussaint knows better than to jump in; he would just be knocked back into the rocks and get hurt. He tries to comb the water with a large stick he finds, but it doesn’t reach down far enough to find anything.

Auntie is going to be so disappointed in him.

Toussaint meanders on the way home, trying hard to think of what he can say to Mama and hoping that even if she’s unhappy, she might be able to make it okay. The shore is littered with shell and interesting gifts from the sea — he scans them glumly, half-hoping the Eagle’s Eye will somehow turn up. A pretty mussel shell briefly distracts him; he is crouching down to inspect it when his neck shivers.

When he looks up, there’s a strange man standing just a few feet away, his feet in the water, staring at Toussaint. He does not look like anyone Toussaint knows, glittering with gold and jade and other metals. He wears arm guards and a great belt around his waist, almost like a wrestler.

And he’s holding Auntie’s gift in his hands, which is no longer in the shape of a bird but is completely unfolded.

Toussaint freezes.

“Is this yours, little prince?” he asks, politely.

Little prince.

Why is he calling Toussaint that?

The man takes a step forward, a little further out of the water; his ankles are bandaged. Toussaint moves further up on the sand. He doesn’t want to run yet, but he will if he has to. The big man stops moving, but he does not seem upset or annoyed. Instead, he dips his head, and kneels down in the sand. Now, Toussaint can see the man’s ears are pointed, like an elf’s, which only makes him more frightening.

Still, when he speaks, his voice is soft and gentle.

“Do not be afraid. I only wish to return your toy. I will set it between us, then I will step away so you can retrieve it.”

He does so. Toussaint doesn’t move at first, just staring at the man. But the man seems totally relaxed, and prepared to wait. He inches forward, and picks the Eagle’s Eye up, and then quickly backs away. The man seems to relax when he does.

“See?” says the big man. “That is better. You must be more careful with gifts from Wakanda, little prince. We do not want others to find them.” He does not make any move toward Toussaint, and that makes him braver.

“Who are you?” he demands.

The big man smiles a little. It’s a kind smile. He looks very different from most of Toussaint’s neighbors, his people. And he dresses so differently — no one wears that much jewelry to swim, but Toussaint can see that the jewels are all shiny from the water.

“My people call me Aj K’uk’ulkan,” he replies, confusing Toussaint. “We have not formally met, but I saw you, when I last came here to visit the Black Panther. You are her nephew, are you not?”

Toussaint stays quiet, thinking frantically. He keeps several feet between himself and the man. He’s small and fast — most adults can’t keep up with him on the beach, but he does not know what this man, who knows three big secrets about Toussaint’s family, will do next.

“What makes you think that?”

”You look like her.”

”No, I don’t,” says Toussaint immediately, scornfully, as if it was a stupid idea. Then he wonders if that was a bad idea, if he should have said he doesn’t know the Black Panther. The man’s smile splits wider, showing a lot of teeth.

“You do. Or you will, in time.”

“Don’t call me a prince.”

“I call you what you are,” says K’uk’ulkan comfortably. “But us royalty have many names, do we not? If you prefer another name, I would understand.”

Toussaint tips his chin up, stands up a little straighter. ”Why should I tell you?”

He only seems to amuse K’uk’ulkan. “You do not need to. I will leave you to attend to your other matters. Good day, little prince.”

He turns away.

”Wait!” says Toussaint. K’uk’ulkan turns around, smiling genially. He looks like he could be someone’s father or uncle, just relaxing in the surf.

“Yes?”

”If you’re a king, where is your kingdom?”

K’uk’ulkan looks delighted that Toussaint asked.

“Has your aunt spoken to you of me?” Toussaint stays silent, but it does not seem to bother K’uk’ulkan. He continues, “I would not mind if she does; it is easier to learn new truths when we are young. If you are Wakanda’s heir, then you will need to know my kingdom one day soon. We are very alike, you see.”

”So it’s a secret?”

”Correct.”

“Just like how no one can know about me,” says Toussiant quickly. “You can’t tell anyone.”

The man regards Toussaint thoughtfully. He gives a slow nod, like he truly understands how important it is.

“You have my word, little prince,” he says, with great solemnity. Then, he gives the Wakandan salute; he sees how Toussaint stumbles back in shock, and laughs. It is a rich, unearthly sound.

It’s not brave, not like a future Black Panther, but Toussaint runs away, across the hot baking sand, back towards the house.

Mama is already at home when he gets back inside. She looks ready to be stern and give him a lecture, but stops when she sees Toussaint’s face. She is very quiet as Toussaint tells her about Aj K’uk’ulkan. Then, she hugs him.

“I am glad you told me,” she says, fiercely. “That is a dangerous man.”

“I saw him before, when Auntie was here. How does he know her?”

Mama has gone very still. Then she sighs, slowly.

“He knows Auntie because she set up the agreement between his kingdom and ours. They meet together to make sure that there is peace between them. It is very new — it happened just before she came here.”

“How did he know who I was? Did Auntie tell him?”

“No,” says Mama, so forcefully that Toussaint shrinks back a little. She rubs his shoulder quickly. “Sorry, Baby. But no, Auntie would not have told him. This king is not like other people. He is like — well. He is like Thor: he looks younger than he is. He is centuries old, and has seen generations after generations grow up. He said you looked like Auntie, right?”

Toussaint nods. “I thought I looked like Baba.”

“You do. But you also look like Auntie. And since Auntie does not have children, he thought of Baba. That might be how he knew who you were.”

Toussaint hunches down in his chair. He’s dreamed, sometimes, of going back to Wakanda and having everyone know who he is, for everyone to be happy and cheer for him. But it’s different, that a stranger knows. Weird. Not in a good way. Kind of scary.

“It’s bad that he knows, right?” he whispers.

Mama puts her arms around him. “It might not be. Namor does not want anyone to know about his kingdom — we have promised to keep his secrets, if he keeps ours. So far, we have no reason to think he would break that agreement. But Toussaint, it is very important that you do not ever speak of him to anyone but me or Auntie, okay? I’ll tell her he was here.”

“Please don’t tell her that I almost lost the Eagle’s Eye,” he begs. “I’ll be more careful.”

Mama laughs, which makes him feel a little better. “All right. But maybe for now, it is better to leave Auntie’s gift at home. His kingdom also uses vibranium, and it is very important that no one tries to look for more in the ocean. Okay?”

Toussaint nods, ashamed.

“And T’Challa?”

Oh. Toussaint sits up even straighter. Mama is serious, when she uses his Wakandan name. “Yes?”

“No matter what he says, be very careful if you see him again, like you were this time. He is very old and very strong. We don’t know everything he can do.”

“I’ll be careful,” says Toussaint. “Promise.”

The following Friday, Auntie calls for Toussaint; Mama goes to make a phone call of her own in her room, so Toussaint gets to settle more comfortably into the sofa cushions, like him and Auntie are having their own private conversation.

Auntie has been busy since she left Haiti. She tells him about the special ceremonies she had to attend as the Black Panther, a lecture she taught on biology at the university, and the new sonar experiment she set up. Sometimes, he has to ask her to slow down and explain the science-y parts — Auntie gets so excited she will forget that not everyone is as smart as she is. Toussaint likes that she thinks he’s smart, but it’s a lot, and sometimes he nods just because it seems like the right thing to do.

“Toussaint, am I boring you?” Auntie teases, because of course she notices.

“No!“ says Toussaint hastily, because he likes Auntie’s science talk. But now he can ask his question, at least. “But I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Okay. Whatever you want.”

“Mama told you about the sea king, right?”

Auntie blinks, surprised.

“She did,” she says, carefully. Then, she asks, a little fiercely. “Why? Did he come back?”

“No.” Toussaint props the Eagle’s Eye on one of the small yellow pillows so he doesn’t have to hold it up, and hugs the other one close to his chest. “But I‘ve been thinking — how does an underwater kingdom work? Do they have phones, too? How do they talk to each other?”

There’s a little pause as Auntie considers his questions. She doesn’t look like she’s going to laugh, which he likes.

“I did see their kingdom, briefly,” she says carefully. “But not for long enough that I can answer your questions. All I can say is that their technology is very unique — they even have their own sun.”

”Underwater?”

”Yes.” Auntie smiles slightly. “It was very beautiful. I was allowed to work on it and learn how it shines. But as for the rest of it…I do not know if he is ready to share such things with us yet.”

“Why? Mama said that our kingdoms work together. Doesn’t that mean sharing secrets?”

Auntie presses her lips together.

“That is our goal, eventually. But that does not mean Na—the sea king would share everything at once. Or that I would. You have to build trust to do that.”

”How do you do that?”

”We talk. Extensively. King M’Baku and the sea king must have many meetings to make rules that both sides understand and agree to. And we help each other. The more often we can do that, the more trust can grow.”

“Is it working?”

Auntie blinks and is quiet a long time before answering. “It is too early to say for sure, but I think so. They want to be allies more than enemies. In time, we may share more of how we live, the ways we are not so different from each other, so that we might help each other.”

”Sounds like you’re doing what Baba wanted to do,” says Toussaint, pleased.

“I—yes. I guess I am.” Auntie looks down suddenly, as if there’s something very interesting on the floor.

That makes Toussaint feel a little better about what happened with the sea king. He made a mistake, and he should be careful like what Mama says, but the sea king was friendly, and that’s a good start, right? They are doing what Baba wanted, and that has to be right.

“It’ll work,” he says confidently. “I believe in you.”

Auntie laughs, like she’s surprised. “Thank you, Toussaint. I needed that.”

A few weeks go by, and nothing happens.

Toussaint is a good son; everyone says so. He wants to be a good son and listen to everything Mama says. But he’s also growing up — he will be seven in November. He knows how to move around his neighborhood, how to take care of himself, and he’s the best swimmer in two grades. And sometimes he just likes to swim and swim and swim where it’s quiet.

There’s a little protected area he knows that doesn’t get the currents. No one goes there, so it feels like a little haven he gets to keep for himself in the rare times he’s alone after school. He never stays for very long, and he never goes out very far, but it’s always there. There are so many tiny, colorful fishes and animals that live in the reef, and he usually discovers something new. He’s careful not to touch anything, because pretty colors can mean danger.

Today, he floats over the reef until something blue catches his eye. Something tiny — not quite a fish. He thinks it might be a sea slug — ugly name for a little creature that is blue like the deepest, clearest part of the oceans. It glides along the sand between the reefs. Toussaint follows it, wishing that he had his Eagle Eye to identify it.

When he looks up, he’s staring right into a mouth full of very sharp teeth.

Alarmed, Toussaint kicks back, away from the barracuda, and accidentally gets his foot wedged in something sharp.

He looks down — his heel is wedged tight between a great rock and a curve of coral. He inhales, by accident, and water burns his nostrils; his lungs hurt. If he kicks out, he’ll damage the coral, but he needs to get to the surface and the barracuda is still right there.

He struggles, panic starting to blur his vision, and those sharp teeth keep drifting closer.

But then the barracuda darts away in a silver flash, as a strong hand touches his shoulder. Toussaint’s ankle burns, but then there’s a sharp tug and it’s free, and then he’s kicking up to break the surface of the water, gasping, eyes stinging. He can’t quite tread water and nearly slips back under, but the sea king holds his arm so that his head stays above the water, and all of the water he swallowed comes out. His throat and eyes burn; his ankle is hot like it’s been skinned.

“It’s all right, little prince,” soothes K’uk’ulkan. He swims them back to the rock ledge, and sets Toussaint down gently on the rock. The salt stings his eyes, and Toussaint cries harder, because he’s embarrassed. “You are all right. I know it hurts.”

Toussaint smears the salt out of his eyes, and squints down at his ankle, dreading what he’ll see. The coral scratched up everything by the bony knob of his ankle. Blood bubbles up, and it looks bad. It makes Toussaint want to cry harder.

“It looks worse than it is,” says K’uk’ulkan evenly, like he has read Toussaint’s mind. When Toussaint tries to look at him, K’uk’ulkan only looks mildly concerned. Strangely, that helps the tears stop. “Let us make sure nothing got stuck in the cuts, all right?”

Toussaint nods; K’uk’ulkan dips his hand in the water, and rinses Toussaint’s ankle. It stings, and Toussaint bites his lip to keep from crying more. Then he reaches in again, and pulls out something slimy and brown.

“Do you have your kimoyo bead? Do you know how to use it to heal yourself?”

Alarmed, Toussaint shakes his head. It’s under his shirt, so the sea king can’t see it, but maybe he can sense it somehow, the way he sensed the Eagle’s Eye.

“I can’t,” whispers Toussaint. He already broke two of Mama’s rules today — he went swimming by himself and he talked to the sea king. He can’t let him touch his birth bead.

“I would not think to take it from you,” K’uk’ulkan says, still gently. K’uk’ulkan talks very calmly, like Mama does in teacher mode. He doesn’t raise his voice; he doesn’t even seem angry. He just goes back to wrapping the slimy stuff — it seems to be some weird kind of kelp and doesn’t feel as gross as it looks — around Toussaint’s ankle, and the stinging eases almost at once.

Then, he takes a small disc out of his belt. It’s also vibranium, but it shimmers blue instead of violet. He presses it to Toussaint’s ankle, and the raw skin goes warm, then cool. K’uk’ulkan unwraps the kelp, and the scratches are gone. He just checks it over, and nods, satisfied.

Toussaint stares.

“That’s not a kimoyo bead,” he says, dumbly, but he can’t think of anything better. Not like Auntie, who constantly says clever things about the people on TV or in government or on the streets. She always says it in a way that makes Toussaint laugh, even if he doesn’t really understand it.

“It is not. It is an invention of my people,” says K’uk’ulkan. “But it only works with the water. Now, rotate your foot, and tell me if you feel any other pain.”

Toussaint moves it. It still stings a little bit, but not like before.

“Nothing. It’s all gone.”

“I am glad. The ocean has many dangers — you should be more careful, little prince.”

The title pricks at Toussaint, but instead of making him freeze, it makes him annoyed.

“My name is Toussaint. It’s a hero’s name.”

“A hero?”

“Toussaint Louverture — the Father of Haiti. He fought the French. Shouldn’t you know him?”

K’uk’ulkan’s mouth twitches.

“You are right. I should know a name like that,” he says gravely, his eyes gleaming. “Forgive my ignorance.”

“That’s okay,” says Toussaint, magnanimously.

K’uk’ulkan smiles, and he looks less scary at once.

“Is your mother nearby?” he asks. “I will return you to her.”

Uh oh.

“She’s at school.”

”Is that far from here?” Toussaint wiggles. K’uk’ulkan stops smiling. “Does she know you are here?”

“She knows it’s on the way,” he says, his voice tiny. “Please don’t tell Mama. Please. She has to do a lot.”

K’uk’ulkan’s frown deepens; now he looks stern again.

“That is not good. I will not tell your mother,” says K’uk’ulkan, very slowly and deliberately. “But only if you do not venture into these reefs alone again. All right?”

Toussaint nods, relieved, though his cheeks are still burning.

“What were you looking for, that you drifted so far from shore?”

“I was trying to follow a fish I hadn’t seen before. I wanted to see if there were more.”

“Really?” Toussaint nods. Then K’uk’ulkan asks, “What did it look like?”

Oh.

“It was tiny,” mumbles Toussaint, even more embarrassed. He holds his hands slightly apart. “Just this big. Blue stripes down the sides. It was pretty.”

K’uk’ulkan frowns again.

“Did you touch it?”

Toussaint shakes his head. K’uk’ulkan relaxes.

“That is good. I know the creature you saw. They feed on jellyfish, and store their venom within it to protect themselves against predators. If you had touched it, you would have been badly hurt. Worse than a few scrapes.”

Toussaint squirms. “I wasn’t going to touch it – I was just looking. Mama and Auntie both say I need to notice everything around me.“

K’uk’ulkan smiles when Toussaint mentions Auntie. “They are right.”

“I know I should have seen the barracuda.”

“Well, I do not think the barracuda noticed you, either. You startled him.” The sea king says it kindly, like Toussiant wasn’t silly for getting stuck. “And now, you know better. You know now that this is his domain, so you have learned that the next time you swim here, you should use all your senses to watch for him. That is valuable, if only so you will not get hurt again. How does your ankle feel?”

“Better.” And Toussaint feels a little silly now, for crying over a scratched ankle that isn’t even scratched any more. “Thank you.”

“We are allies, we should help each other.” He holds out his hand to Toussaint. “Come, I will take you back to your home.”

Toussaint listens to his stomach, and stands up, carefully. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t get my books wet.”

K’uk’ulkan does not seem offended, his hand returning to his side, and stepping a little further back into the water, away from where he set Toussaint. “Then let me know when you have reached the beach behind your home.”

“Why?”

“I am responsible that your countrymen are safe when they are near water. You, especially.” He studies Toussaint for a long moment. “When you get home, wave to me from your beach, where you first saw me with your aunt. If you do not, I will come ashore myself.”

Toussaint does not want to think about what Mama will do if the sea king knocks on the door.

”Deal,” he says quickly and sticks out his hand before K’uk’ulkan can change his mind.

The sea king stares blankly down between them, and Toussaint wonders if they shake hands underwater. But then K’uk’ulkan smiles again and takes Toussaint’s hand.

“A deal it is,” he says.

Toussaint’s ankle still stings a little as he walks home, but nothing really bad. Instead of going inside, he goes right up to the edge of the beach, where he has seen K’uk’ulkan twice. He doesn’t see anything in the water except the sun’s golden reflection. But he waves, anyway, and heads back up to the house.

Mama gets home at her usual time, and Toussaint asks for her laptop and looks up the sea slug he saw — it’s called a glaucus atlanticus. He makes notes in the Eagle’s Eye, including what K’uk’ulkan told him, to send to Auntie.

He doesn’t tell Mama almost drowned. K’uk’ulkan was right, that was dangerous, but if he tells Mama she might not let him explore so much.

Besides, it’s like what Auntie said — Wakanda and K’uk’ulkan’s kingdom are trying to work together. He said he would help Toussaint, and he did. And he knows things about the ocean. And he knows Auntie.

Toussaint wants to learn more about the world. He has to, if he’s going to be the Black Panther, like Auntie and Baba. If he’s going to help them build bridges.

He’s curious. And he knows how to keep a secret.

Chapter Text

~

A week and a day after K’uk’ulkan rescues him in the reef, Josephine’s family drops Toussaint off at home after an afternoon of football. Inside, Mama‘s laptop is open on the kitchen counter: Auntie’s face is large across the screen.

”Auntie!”

He’s excited until he realizes that it is not a live call, but some kind of video. Mama muted the sound, so Toussaint can’t hear what she’s saying, but it looks serious. He looks to Mama, who isn’t smiling either.

“Your auntie just announced that she is the Black Panther,” Mama says, plucking at her lower lip. Now that Toussaint watches, the camera pulls out, and it shows Auntie surrounded by women in red — Dora Milaje, he remembers — and a broad, grinning man in fantastic furs and wood armor. They look real; the broad windows and the dark floor look like cutouts for a play.

“That’s good, right?” he asks. Mama had told him that people had mourned not just for the loss of Baba, but for the loss of the Black Panther with him. Now, everyone would know: Wakanda is protected again.

“It is.”

”Then why don’t you look happy?”

Mama wraps her arms around Toussaint; her perfume still smells good even after a long day.

”I am happy, Toussaint. I just worry, too.”

”Well, you don’t have to. Auntie’s super smart. She can do anything.”

“I know. But I watched Aunt Shuri grow up. I still want to protect her — just like how I’ll want to protect you, no matter how big and strong you get.” She pokes at his side, where she knows he’s ticklish.

“Ew!” Toussaint wiggles, and Mama laughs and gives one more big squeeze before she lets him go. But she’s smiling now.

Toussaint turns the sound back on, but Auntie has finished her talk, and the anchor comes back on the screen again. “That was Princess Shuri of Wakanda, after appearing with King M’Baku at the United—”

He watches for a little longer, then wanders to his room when it’s clear that they won’t show Auntie again. He hopes Mama gets used to Auntie being the Black Panther; maybe she’ll be less worried when it’s his turn.

Auntie is in the news a lot over the next few days, because a new Black Panther is a big deal. The girls at school love her: Auntie was always cool to them as a scientist princess, but now she’s a superhero too. Even Josephine is excited, and Josephine is hard to impress.

“How is Auntie so fast?” he asks Mama, when they are walking home from school. “Is it because of the heart-shaped herb? Or did she have to practice?”

“She has to practice. Eating the herb made Auntie’s body stronger, but that alone does not make her the Black Panther,” says Mama, hitching her shoulder bag up to her ear again; it’s full from their stop at the market and keeps sliding down. “The herb does something even more important: it connects her to our ancestors, to the long lineage of panthers, to access their powers and their wisdom.”

“What does it mean, ‘to connect’? Like they leave a puzzle, like what Bast did to Bashenga?” In Toussaint’s favorite story of Bashenga, he has to interpret a pattern of claw gouges deep in the earth, because Bast’s roar has been stolen.

“No, I mean that the Black Panther is able to move from our world to the Ancestral Plane. There, they can speak directly with the Black Panthers of the past.“

Toussaint stares up at Mama, eyes wide. “Even Baba?”

“That’s right. And her father – your grandfather. That connection is what has always made the Black Panther so powerful.”

Toussaint didn’t know that. He squeezes her hand harder, bouncing on his toes. “So when I become the Black Panther, I’ll see Baba again?”

Mama’s hand tightens around his. “...Yes. When the time comes, you’ll meet them, and they’ll share their wisdom with you.”

“So Auntie can just talk to Baba any time? Like the Eagle’s Eye?” Mama always said that Baba wasn’t gone forever, but Toussaint thought that meant his spirit could see them. He hadn’t thought that they could talk again.

“Not like that, Toussaint,” says Mama quickly. “It takes a great deal of focus and energy to touch the Ancestral Plane. Black Panthers need to perform rituals to consult the ancestors. They need the help of the priests, so it can only happen in times of great need.”

Toussaint deflates a little. Oh.

“Can you talk to Baba like that?” He asks, just in case.

“No.” Mama laughs. “Not like that. But I have talked to your baba so much in my life that I hear all his answers anyways, whether I want them or not – I do not need to go to the Ancestral Plane.”

Mama has said things like that about Baba before; Toussaint kind of wants to ask what she means, but maybe it’s a married people thing. Or just a Mama-and-Baba thing.

“But Auntie had to talk to Baba to become the Black Panther, right?” he presses. “What did they talk about?” And why didn’t Auntie tell him that she’s seen Baba again?

“I do not know.” Mama is quiet again. “I would not ask her that question, Toussaint. What the ancestors say to us is meant for our ears alone; we can choose to share if we wish to, but we should respect others who have not. Do you understand?”

Mama’s voice is stern, like she would call him ‘T’Challa’ if they weren’t outside where people could hear.

“I do. But what about Panther training?”

“What about it?”

“I need to train to become the Black Panther,” Toussaint explains, impatient. “When do I start?”

Mama clucks her tongue. “You do not need to learn to fight yet. And being the Black Panther means being able to outsmart an enemy, not just defeat them in combat.”

”Then what should I study?”

”You are studying at school right now. That is a good start.”

”Mama. It’s not the same.” If he’s even one step closer to being the Black Panther, then Toussaint is one step closer to Auntie and Baba. “What else can I do?”

Mama smiles. “Well, a good panther is very observant of his surroundings. Have you noticed anything new on our walk?”

“That’s easy. There’s a new barber in the barber shop.”

Mama scrunches up her face, like she’s pretending she doesn’t believe him. “How do you know he’s new? He might have been there for years, but not on Mondays.”

Toussaint pictures it; imagines walking back three blocks. “He wasn’t wearing his apron, so Monsieur had to get him a new one. And he was having trouble with the sign, like he hasn’t used it before. And he stopped working when he saw you, so Monsieur yelled at him.”

Mama laughs. “Did he? I missed that.”

“Yeah.” Toussaint grins, pleased. “See? I’m observant.”

He has to sound out the word ‘observant’ — it’s not one he’s used before.

“You certainly are. What else have you seen?”

For the rest of the way home, Toussaint describes every single detail of their walk to her, and again for every day after that. It becomes routine: Mama will ask Toussaint to describe what he sees. He records his observations in the Eagle’s Eye, too, to gather proof.

He still wants to fight. Mama has already taught him how to protect himself, how to activate a shield from his birth bead if he needs it; she made him practice so much it’s instinct now. She also explains that it is important to learn how to move soundlessly, so that he can disappear when he needs to.

They make a deal: if he can sneak up on Mama, that means he’s ready for the next level of Black Panther training. Proper Black Panther training. So far, though, he can’t; Mama’s ears are too sharp and she’s caught him every time.

Toussaint reads about Wakanda on the Eagle Eye, learning about the history and the wildlife, though he has to constantly stop to look up words in Xhosa he doesn’t know, or ask Mama for help. He stalks around his room and on the beaches, testing his weight on his feet.

It’s hard work, but the earlier he starts, the better he’ll be — and maybe, the better he is, the sooner he surprises Mama, then the sooner Auntie can start his Black Panther training.

Because people know Auntie is the Black Panther, she’s busier now, so she calls at odd hours and odd places. The next time she calls, she’s wearing goggles, which means she’s working very early in her lab, running experiments.

Toussaint likes experiments because they are fun. They do a lot of experiments at school: testing water intake and sunlight and nutrients to see the difference in their gardens and food. He understands why Auntie likes being a scientist — you get to play with the world and understand how it works.

Auntie grins when he tells her that. “That’s my favorite part, too. We don’t want to work against nature, we want to access what is already there and see what can be improved.”

“Is that what you’re doing with the sonar experiments?”

”Well, we want to make sure whatever structure we create will blend in underwater and not bother the fish.”

“Then why are you in the lab? Shouldn’t you be in the water?”

Auntie laughs. “Well, we have to start with a prototype in the lab before we can test them in the ocean.”

“Why?”

”Well, we have to study the conditions. We need to understand how sound is naturally distorted, and when it isn’t. And then our instruments also need to be calibrated so that we know we can trust them.”

”Calibrate? What does that mean?”

”That means we set a standard of readings, so we know what our data is telling us. Like tuning a guitar so all the chords sound right when you play it.”

Auntie is getting better at describing her projects in terms that Toussaint can understand. He asks, ”Does it take a long time?”

”It depends on the instrument. Anything new takes much longer because you’re not used to it yet. Many of these experiments in the field can take years to gather enough data.”

”Years?” Toussaint can’t imagine waiting years on something that will maybe work. That seems like a bad idea.

”Yes. Science can be very slow, Toussaint,” her smile flickers for a moment, like she’s remembering something. “But not always. I think we will learn very quickly with this experiment — I am very excited for this design.”

“Can I see it?”

Auntie shakes her head.

”That’s a secret, Toussaint.” Toussaint pouts, and Auntie starts laughing. ”I’m sorry. I would not be happy with me, either. But that is part of Wakanda’s agreement with Namor.”

“Who’s Namor?” asks Toussaint. Auntie will sometimes just say names without remembering that Toussaint, while smart, doesn’t know all the people or things she knows. He wants to know, but it’s hard to keep up.

Auntie frowns. “The sea king. The one who scared you, remember?”

“I wasn’t scared of him,” says Toussaint quickly. That name sounds very different from the name the sea king gave him, but Mama knew it immediately when he told her. Toussaint wonders which is which. “I was surprised.”

“Yes, he does that.” says Auntie in that flat voice she uses sometimes for people who bother her. Toussiant snickers, and Auntie’s face smooths out. “I am glad you weren’t scared. I was worried.”

Toussaint puffs out his cheeks, a little annoyed. They must know that he’s old enough to take care of himself. “You shouldn’t be. He wasn’t scary, just weird.”

“That’s true.” Auntie snorts. “But you probably should not say things like that about people. Your mama would not like it.”

“I don’t,” says Toussaint, pleased. Still, Auntie’s right and he’s glad that Mama’s outside chatting with Madame Augustin.

“Well, it sounds like you were very brave.”

“How do you know?”

“Your mama told me.” There’s a bit of a pause, and Toussaint wonders if it’s possible for the Eagle’s Eye to have a bad connection. “And Namor, too.”

“The sea king talked about me?” Toussaint leans closer to the hologram, even though it won’t let Auntie see him any clearer; he takes it away when he realizes Auntie can see the insides of his nose. “What did he say?”

“Nothing bad, Toussaint. That you were brave, and that we look alike, which anyone with eyes can see.” Auntie scowls. “He does not joke, really, so I know that he means it. Then he did not say any more — we had a lot of work to do.”

If Auntie was wearing that expression she has right now, then Toussaint thinks he wouldn’t want to say any more, either. He’s a little disappointed, though, that there isn’t more.

“Is the sea king also a scientist, like you?” he asks instead.

“Not quite. But he is deeply involved in our work,” says Auntie, like it annoys her. “It seems he has experience in a little bit of everything, in some form or another.”

He sounds like he works like Auntie, actually, but Toussaint does not think she would be happy to hear that.

“Mama said he’s very old. Is that true?”

Auntie nods. “He is. He has records on his kingdom’s agricultural and structural experiments stretching back for centuries — often, he does not need to consult them to remember them. His findings have helped my team avoid a lot of extra work.”

“Wow. So he’s like an elephant.”

Auntie starts coughing very hard. Toussaint taps on the screen, anxious.

“Auntie? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Toussaint.” Auntie waves him away. She’s got one hand against her face, so her cheek is a little smushed against her goggles. “That is…very accurate. But I have been rambling — this must not be the most exciting topic for you.”

”I like hearing you talk about science,” defends Toussaint. “It’s cool.”

”Not as cool as Black Panther news, though, right?” Toussaint feels his cheeks warm, but Auntie’s eyes are crinkled up and she’s grinning. “Your mama says you want to know more about being the Black Panther. Well — go ahead. What did you want to ask?”

Toussaint wanted to ask about connecting with the ancestors, to see if Auntie would talk about Baba on her own. But her cheerful smile makes him lose his nerve — talking about Baba is hard, sometimes. He doesn’t want to accidentally make her sad again.

“Is it fun?” he asks instead. “Have you met the Avengers yet?”

Auntie chews her lip and looks up at the ceiling, like she’s thinking hard. ”It is still new, Toussaint. I am sure it will be more fun as I get used to it. Right now, I just want to get it right.”

”Is there a wrong way to be the Black Panther?”

”Oh, yes. But your Baba was a great example. And I have Okoye, Ayo, and Aneka, too.” More names that are only half-familiar, but Auntie is still talking, so he doesn’t interrupt, “I have not met any new Avengers. M’Baku needs me right now while he settles in as king.”

M’Baku. Toussaint knows that name. Mama says he is the first Jabari king that Wakanda has ever had — the result of one of Baba’s greatest accomplishments: persuading the Jabari to unite with the other tribes for the first time in thousands of years.

It is also confusing to Toussaint. There are six tribes, including the Jabari. Toussaint is River tribe on Mama’s side. On Baba’s side, he is Golden tribe. The Golden tribe was Bashenga’s tribe, the ruling tribe — or was, right until now.

Why did that change with Auntie?

”Auntie, why aren’t you the queen?” If Auntie is the Black Panther, that means she can defeat any challengers, easy.

Auntie’s image flickers, like she froze, or if it is the connection again. Toussaint tries shaking the Eagle Eye again, with little effect.

“The Black Panther is not always the ruler of Wakanda,” she says at last. “My brother could do it because he was exceptional. The qualities that make me exceptional do not make me a good leader. That is why I championed M’Baku to be king instead.”

“What makes a good leader?” Auntie is kind and smart and wants to help people. Isn’t that all that’s needed?

“It depends on who you ask, Toussaint. For me, it is not just intelligence, but the ability to weigh and make hard decisions. But…there is also the ability to hold a vision of the future you want to see, and knowing how to share it with others to realize its potential, even when it seems far away. Your baba was very good at that.”

That’s what Mama means about how Baba could build bridges. All of the programs he started to help other people throughout the world to improve how they live. Toussaint wonders why it would be so hard to do such an easy thing.

“You chose him because he is a good king, right?”

“Yes — he was the leader of the Jabari for many years before he ever came to the Golden City. He is smart and brave and does not tolerate fools. I think you would like him very much.”

Toussaint thinks of the man in the news feed, beaming behind Auntie.

“I think I would, too. Is…Namor a good king?”

Auntie hesitates.

“He is honest and honors his word,” she says at last. “His people love him and trust that he will take care of them, so — yes. I would say he is. His kingdom reminded me very much of Wakanda.”

“In what ways?”

Auntie’s eyes crinkle up, and she gives a tiny smile. But then there’s a clear series of beeps, and Auntie glances away from Toussaint, then back again, her expression regretful.

“I will have to tell you about it another time, Toussaint.”

“Aw…”

The problem with having an auntie who is both a superhero and a scientist — she is very, very busy, and even making sad faces at her doesn’t mean she can stay longer. He guesses it would be even worse if she was queen, too, so maybe it’s better that she’s not.

Toussaint wants to be good. He really, really wants to be good. But he also wants to talk to K’uk’ulkan again. Maybe he would tell Toussaint more about the sonar project, and how Auntie is working on it together with him — he said he wouldn’t mind telling Toussaint about his kingdom, so why not?

But how to reach him? Toussaint doesn’t want to try to get stuck in the reef again, and K’uk’ulkan would be unhappy because he broke their agreement not to swim in the same place. Then he might tell Mama, and Mama would be extremely unhappy. And what if the conditions were wrong and K’uk’ulkan didn’t appear?

Auntie said it’s important to start small with experiments. What’s a small question that Toussaint can start with?

He thinks very hard. He hadn’t asked K’uk’ulkan how he found Toussaint, the first two times. K’uk’ulkan has those elf ears: maybe it’s as easy as Toussaint just calling for him.

He waits until the weekend, when walking back from Josephine’s house after they are done playing. It’s easy for Toussaint to make a detour to the rocks in the section of beach halfway between her house and his. The horizon is blue and empty, without the boats the fishermen or tourists like to take out into the water. Good.

He takes a deep breath.

”K’uk’ulkan! Hello!”

Then, he waits. He hopes he isn’t saying K’uk’ulkan’s name wrong and offending him.

The sea stays calm, without any answers.

He repeats himself, trying to stretch out his voice as far as it will go, but the sun is hot and too high overhead, so he has to retreat further up the shore, closer to where there’s shade. As the wind picks up, his voice flutters away.

He can’t stay out here too long — Mama told him that dinner would be at five, so he needs to be home before five.

He stands to go, he stops — there! A flicker of green light, far out in the darkening water.

Toussaint waves frantically; he thinks he sees a blurred, small shape that might be a hand waving back. But then it disappears.

Maybe it was just a diver wondering why some local boy was yelling at him. But Toussaint knows he’s right.

Now, what would make K’uk’ulkan come to shore?

Mama doesn’t like it when Toussaint watches superhero battles.

But Mama also doesn’t like to know that Auntie is fighting without seeing her, so Toussaint gets to see her fight too. It’s only happened twice now, but Toussaint likes to see the Black Panther at work, moving so quickly most cameras catch her only as a trace of ink, a glint of gold.

They’re watching on the laptop Mama uses for work; Toussaint has it open while he’s putting together a new set of interlocking blocks, making the different colors line up so he can take it apart. Mama is doing some kind of paperwork that has to be filled out by hand, which makes her mutter about inefficiency when she isn’t watching the screen.

The Avengers are fighting something that looks like a giant robot on the Viriginian coast — or maybe it’s the person inside the giant robot, the newsman doesn’t seem to know yet — when a blast of bright white energy zaps right where Auntie is standing.

Mama covers Toussaint’s eyes, but not before he sees Auntie flung into the sea. When he tears her hand off, Auntie still hasn’t come up. Even after the robot is defeated, there is no sign of her.

Mama shuts the laptop lid so hard it rattles against the table; Toussaint tries to flip it back up.

“Not yet! I want to see what happened to Auntie.”

Mama shuts it again and keeps her hand on top of it. Toussaint starts to shake.

“Mama?”

“We won’t find out there,” says Mama, and her beads start beeping. She rushes out of the kitchen, to the bedroom. Toussaint just sits frozen at the table, feeling even smaller than usual, and frightened. He tries to keep fitting the puzzle together, but all he wants to do is throw it. He strains to hear what Mama is saying, but she’s speaking too quietly. His insides squirm, all twisted up in a spiky ball of fear.

Eventually, Mama comes back out, her face is set, but she doesn’t look scared anymore; she’s ready to do something.

“Your auntie will be here soon,” she says. It pulls the plug out of Toussaint’s fear, and it pours out of him; he slumps down, suddenly exhausted.

”Is she okay?”

“I think she needs help,” says Mama. “My friend does not know the extent of her injuries, but she says Griot reported strange readings from the robot.”

”How will she get here?”

”We’ll see. Toussaint, maybe you should go to your room.”

Toussaint shakes his head. “No. I want to help.”

Mama looks at him, really looks at him, like how she does when she has to help explain a really difficult math problem or figure out how to explain a broken wall. Then, she nods.

“Okay. Then do as I say, all right? I don’t know what kind of help your aunt will need.”

As the sea swallows the sun, there’s a sudden weight in the air that Toussaint has never felt before, that hums like a wire and makes the back of his eyes throb and show weird shapes; when it stops, K’uk’ulkan is drops into their patio, as if he was torn out of the night. Auntie is a shred of darkness in his arms, but there’s red smeared across K’uk’ulkan’s fingers and chest. Mama goes out to them; Toussaint watches from inside the screen door.

“She asked to be brought here,” K’uk’ulkan says to Mama. His face is grim, and Toussaint wonders if the sea king even noticed that Toussaint is here. “I would have preferred to take her back to Talokan.”

“That would be too deep,” croaks Auntie, and she sounds a little out of breath, but not bad. Toussaint almost relaxes, except Mama goes right up to K’uk’ulkan and Auntie, and she must see something she doesn’t like, because she calls out to Toussaint:

“Toussaint, run a bath for Auntie. Make sure it’s warm.”

Toussaint runs to obey. Behind him, he hears Mama ask, “Shuri, what were you thinking?”

“I didn’t have time to think,” says Auntie, and then gives a little cry of pain. Toussaint turns on the water, the dial slipping a bit under his hand, and the gushing of the faucet drowns out the rest of the adults. Toussaint briefly looks at the bubbles, but he doesn’t know if Auntie would like that, so he leaves it alone. Instead, he pulls out Mama’s first aid kit and some new towels, and piles them all on the sink.

When he comes back out, he stares. Mama has brought Auntie indoors; Auntie is no longer wearing her Black Panther suit but shorts and a white shirt with no sleeves. Half of it is a dark, muddy brown and stinks of blood.

She tries to smile at Toussaint, but it pulls back into a grimace. “Ah, Toussaint. You should not see this.”

“The worst is covered,” says Mama. “Put your arm around me and we’ll get inside.”

Toussaint steps forward to grab Auntie’s other arm, but she moves it away.

“No, Toussaint. It’s okay, your mama’s got me.”

Toussaint wants to point out that K’uk’ulkan was carrying her, so more help is better than none, but Mama also gives him a tiny shake of her head, so Toussaint steps away, and watches helplessly as Mama helps Auntie into the house.

Mama would probably want Toussaint to go to his room; Toussaint does not go into his room but toward the front door, where he can see K’uk’ulkan’s still outline through the glass. K’uk’ulkan is sitting, not on the chair, but on a cushion on the ground. His hands are resting in his lap, also a little brown with blood, and his eyes closed; they open when Toussaint slides open the door.

“Hello, little prince,” he says, smiling. There are shadows under his eyes that weren’t there the last time they met. “I am sorry that we meet again under such circumstances.”

It feels weird, standing in the screen door, looking down at the sea king in jewelry that glowed under the courtyard light, sitting on concrete just a couple of feet from the hose and the garden pots.

”It’s okay.” Toussaint doesn’t feel so scared, just calm. Auntie’s here, and talking, and Mama knows how to fix nearly anything, so he knows Auntie will be better. He doesn’t even feel like correcting K’uk’ulkan for not using his name again. “You don’t have to sit outside. Come in.”

K’uk’ulkan leans forward a bit, as if to glance into the house, then back up at Toussaint. “I do not think your mother would want me inside.”

“I don’t think she wants anyone to see you, either,” points out Toussaint. “If you are supposed to be a secret king.” There are walls around this part of the garden, but they are not high.

K’uk’ulkan chuckles. “True, but this garden is well warded — no one will see me here.”

“Warded?”

K’uk’ulkan nods at the little figure of a cat that has always sat on the courtyard wall. “Vibranium. It distorts perception. We have similar defenses around the perimeters of my kingdom.”

“Oh.” Toussaint didn’t know that his house had defenses. Mama has never liked those fancy security systems some of the wealthier houses had, but Mama has always told him the house would protect him. So that’s what made his head hurt earlier.

It still feels weird to leave K’uk’ulkan — Namor? — outside alone.

“Do you need to wash your hands?” He points at his hands, stained with Auntie’s blood. K’uk’ulkan looks down, and crinkles up his face.

“If you could bring me a cloth, I will.”

Toussaint goes inside, grabs the towel he tried to give to Auntie, and runs it under the sink. He carries it out to K’uk’ulkan, who accepts with a grave nod. Toussaint watches as he wipes at his hands and chest.

“Do you want a drink?”

“I would appreciate it. If you are offering.”

Toussaint goes back inside and pours a big glass from the pitcher. After some consideration, he opens the refrigerator. He doesn’t know what sea kings eat, and he’s a little embarrassed to ask. But there are fried plantains from the afternoon: no one hates plantains. He picks up the plate and carries it out, the glass of water curled in against his chest.

K’uk’ulkan, thankfully, reaches out at once to take the plate, then the glass.

“I did not say I was hungry,” he says, but smiling.

“Auntie says she’s always hungry after a fight. I thought you would be, too.”

“It is usually good to eat,” agrees K’uk’ulkan. “Thank you. Will you join me?”

Toussaint can always eat — he takes one of the fried plantains and bites in, enjoying the saltiness and the give as his teeth cut through. K’uk’ulkan does the same, but he keeps glancing indoors.

They sit like that for a while; Toussaint eats more of the plantains than K’uk’ulkan does. He didn’t realize how hungry he was, waiting for Auntie to appear and how she would be.

Up close, the sea king isn’t as big and intimidating as he was the first two times, but his ears look sharper, and there are wings on his ankles, where there were bandages before. Toussaint can’t stop staring at them. Why would a sea king have wings?

”Were you fighting with the Avengers, too? I didn’t see you on the news.”

“No. They do not know of me. There were sensors that went into the ocean after your aunt. I stopped them, but the other soldiers never saw me.”

“Why not?”

”I do not trust them.”

”But they’re heroes,” says Toussaint, through his plantain, before remembering it’s rude to talk through a full mouth.

”They are employed by western governments and they take more than they give,” says K’uk’ulkan with absolute certainty. “They are not friends of mine.”

“They are only somewhat friends of Wakanda,” says Mama, sliding the door open with a large snap. K’uk’ulkan stands at once; Toussaint scrambles to follow him.

“How is the Black Panther?” He asks. “There were adamantium weapons. Her healing was not as it should be.”

“I removed the shards that prevented her wounds from closing. She is much better now.” Toussaint perks up; he wants to duck down from under Mama’s arm to go see Auntie, if it wasn’t for Mama’s grip on his shoulder.

”I am glad.” K’uk’ulkan looks between Toussaint and Mama. “I know that you are of the royal family, but I do not know what title you use.”

”I am Nakia, daughter of Yaa. The only title I hold here is ‘teacher’ — nothing else.” Mama replies evenly. “And you are Aj K’uk’ulkan of Talokan.”

Talokan. Toussaint repeats it in his head, awed. That’s the name of his kingdom. All Toussaint could find when he tried to look up underwater cities was Atlantis. Talokan.

“I am.” K’uk’ulkan inclines forward — not exactly a bow. “It is an honor to meet you, Teacher. The Black Panther spoke highly of your abilities.”

“I have had more experience than I care to have in dealing with emergencies. She’s resting now — thank you for stabilizing her.”

”The Black Panther is in my care when in my domain,” K’uk’ulkan replies, smiling very nicely. “I am glad you could help her. And your son has been a most gracious host.”

Mama smiles down at Toussaint. “I raised him to mind his manners.”

“It is always a pleasure to see the young ones take charge,” agrees K’uk’ulkan. “But I am surprised to see a member of the royal family growing up in such a quiet home.”

“Wakanda has worked hard to help build up outside communities.” Mama shrugs. “I found an opportunity to help others here.”

There’s something weird about the way Mama talks to K’uk’ulkan. Like he’s one of the parents who can get really pushy, so she acts all bright and calm so that they can’t say there’s anything wrong about her. K’uk’ulkan is the same — like they are both talking to a wall, looking for some way around or over it.

”There were none in Wakanda?”

”None that fit the role I needed to take.”

“Ah,” says K’uk’ulkan. “I understand. You were hiding.”

Toussaint frowns; Mama never hides. She is always the first to try something dangerous, the first to climb a tree or call for help.

“I meant no offense,” adds K’uk’ulkan, looking down at Toussaint. “There is no shame in hiding to protect what is precious to you. That is how I kept my people safe for all this time.”

Toussaint can feel Mama relax a little, and that makes him less annoyed.

“I know,” says Toussaint. “With vibranium, too. Like Wakanda.”

K’uk’ulkan smiles. “Exactly.”

But then his eyes narrow and he straightens, as if looking past Toussaint and Mama. The screen door slides open, and Auntie limps out into the yard, now dressed in shorts and a big, clean t-shirt. Toussaint stares up at her; she’s frowning at K’uk’ulkan.

“Panther. Should you be standing?”

“I could say the same about you staying out of the water so long,” Auntie returns, coolly. “I’m fine. Nakia got the worst of it taken care of, so we do not need to linger here.”

K’uk’ulkan’s frown deepens, and his arms are crossed. Him and Auntie are just…staring at each other. Toussaint looks between them, confused. They must be having a different kind of conversation.

“You do not need to be concerned for me, Panther. I was enjoying your family’s hospitality.”

Auntie’s eyebrows go up, like she’s surprised. She steps forward, between Toussaint and K’uk’ulkan, so Toussaint has to lean to the side to see both of them.

“The message I shared gave them a safe house in Florida. I should make the rest of my report there.”

K’uk’ulkan does not seem happy with this plan, for he is still frowning, but he shrugs his massive shoulders, and starts to turn, as if he will just walk away. Auntie, too — she activates her suit so she’s not Auntie but the Black Panther.

That’s it? Toussaint hasn’t seen Auntie in months and…that’s it?

”Wait, Auntie!” Toussaint ducks away from Mama’s grip, and catches Auntie’s hand. “You shouldn’t go. You’re still hurt.”

When Auntie doesn’t move, Toussaint tugs on her hand, trying to bring her back to the house. Auntie glances back at K’uk’ulkan.

“I will meet you on the beach,” he says, responding to a question Auntie did not ask, and leaves. If Toussaint were less upset, he would be fascinated by how quickly K’uk’ulkan disappears into the darkness.

Auntie kneels down so she is eye-level with Toussaint, her helmet dissolving so he can see her face. “I was hurt. That is why I came to see your mama, but I will be fine very soon. It is just part of the risk.”

”I know. But can’t you stay here the night, at least?”

“I need to meet with my allies. The Avengers. You do not want them to worry, right?” Toussaint doesn’t care and it must show on his face; Auntie adds, “But I will be back soon, okay?”

”When is soon?” Toussaint demands in frustration. Auntie hasn’t even hugged him.

To his confusion, Auntie smiles. ”Well…when are you going to turn seven?”

Toussaint stares at her, mouth agape, and she laughs. “Ah, it was supposed to be a surprise. But we’ll have fun then.”

It will be fun, and it’s the best news that Toussaint has heard since he heard of Auntie. He sneaks a glance at Mama, who is smiling too in a way that confirms it. But he stares at her middle and thinks about all of the bandages Mama took out.

Auntie squeezes his hands. “Don’t worry about me. It would be much worse without your help.”

”I didn’t do anything,” Toussaint mutters.

“You did.” Auntie hugs him then, and Toussaint hugs her back, carefully. Then she hugs Mama, for a long time.

“I know this isn’t what you would want—”

”No,” Mama interrupts. “This is exactly what I want. I’m glad you came.”

Auntie nods, smiling. Then she too slips into the dark, as K’uk’ulkan did before, like they were not walking down the beach but going to a whole new world.

Mama nudges Toussaint inside. “Come on, baby. It is way past your bedtime.”

The next morning, Mama tells Toussaint that he is going swimming with his friends.

”Do not worry about Auntie,” she says. “She got home safe and sound.”

Toussaint knows that, but he has more questions. How badly did it hurt? Does she know that Toussaint could help her? Like a sidekick — the Robin to her Batman.

It’s five of them: Josephine and Roseline and Junior and Samuel and Toussaint. Well, six of them, including Josephine’s mama. At first, they splash around in the water, pretending to be mermaids. But then Josephine wants to build sand castles, and the others follow her. Toussaint lingers in the surf; he has a kickboard with him, so he can just cling to it and float.

He lets himself drift out a little farther — nothing too far, but far enough that his friends are only hand-sized. Beyond him, the ocean is calm today. There are none of the fishing or tourist boats around, just water and water and water.

Auntie got hurt. He needs to train better to be the Black Panther, so he can help her. It’s good that K’uk’ulkan could help her, but he can’t do what Auntie does. Toussaint will be able to, so he needs to do better.

But how? He studies, and observes, and tries to get good enough to fight. But what else does a Black Panther do? Talk? Baba knew how to talk to everyone — that is what makes a good leader.

He can’t resist murmuring: “K’uk’ulkan, are you here?”

He doesn’t expect a response, but then a woman pops out of the water next to his board.

Toussaint yelps, he can’t help it — she’s blue. But her clothes look similar to K’uk’ulkan, with the same green earrings, so she doesn’t really scare him, despite her creased forehead. Toussaint glances around him, but everyone on the shore is still occupied with the castle.

“Little prince,” says the woman in a clear, severe voice, despite the mask fitted over her face. “You should not be this far out on your own.”

Toussaint stares, fascinated by the gills on her neck that flutter under some kind of body armor.

”You know who I am? Who are you?”

“Are you not the son of the king of Wakanda?”

Toussaint frowns deeply. He’s not sure if it’s okay to talk about being his father’s son — if a whole people is a secret, is it all right that they know about him? 

“I am Toussaint of Haiti. I wish to speak to King K’uk’ulkan.”

The woman stares at him. Then, unexpectedly, her eyes crinkle at the corners, like she’s smiling.

“Aj K’uk’ulkan,” she says, but no longer sounding as strict.

“Huh?”

“The right title for my king is Aj K’uk’ulkan,” says the woman. “I am his cousin. He is occupied with matters of the kingdom. I will tell him that you asked for him, but if it is truly a great need, Aj K’uk’ulkan left your family a conch shell. If you use it, he will answer you.”

He does remember the conch shell. It is still sitting on the high shelf, right where Auntie left it; he hadn’t thought of it at all.

“Oh. Thank you.”

The woman inclines her head, and sinks. The water covers her nose and then eyes and then the crown of her hair, and Toussaint is left floating on the surface of the ocean again. He looks down, and he sees her looking up at him, and she gives a little flick of her hand, like she’s saying goodbye.

A sudden, high wave catches Toussaint on his board. Toussaint yelps and clings for dear life as it carries him right back to the beach, dropping him gently into the muddy sand.

“Toussaint, what are you doing?” asks Josephine, sticking her head from around her model of Ariel’s castle.

At first, Toussaint can’t answer, he just sits, offended. She did that on purpose.

Then, he laughs — it is kind of funny.

Now, why didn’t he know it was that easy?

Toussaint knows he should be sneaky about the conch shell. First, he practices moving the chair over when Mama isn’t there, and then moving it back, to see if she notices.

She doesn’t. Emboldened, he makes his plan.

Mama sometimes stays late at school for certain meetings. Toussaint can either stay with her, go home with Josephine, or go home alone. He goes home, waves at the little cat figure, and runs inside to sneak the conch shell off the shelf; he tucks it in his backpack, then heads down to the beach.

After a quick look around, to be sure that no one is coming, he puts it to his mouth and blows hard. The sound is much louder than he expects, and he almost drops it into the surf.

Within a few minutes, the water boils and breaks: K’uk’ulkan appears, his face dark and serious.

“What has happened, little prince? Are you injured?”

“No?” Toussaint is confused and a little frightened by how urgently he says it. Toussaint forgot how shiny he was, with all of the armor and jewelry; he looks like a warrior now.

“Is your mother injured?”

“No?”

K’uk’ulkan sighs.

“Then why did you call me?”

Abruptly, Toussaint wonders if he did something very, very wrong. He tries to stay very straight and tall, and meets K’uk’ulkan’s eye.

“I thought the conch was for talking to you?”

“I would have thought your aunt would have shared its purpose with you. The conch was given to your family for times of emergency.”

Oh, no.

“There was a woman in the water,” he mumbles. “You hadn’t heard me. She said if there was a need — I thought there was a need. I’ve been trying experiments to talk to you and they didn’t work. I didn’t know it was for trouble.”

It sounds silly even as he says it. But K’uk’ulkan’s expression softens, and he does not look so fierce. He kneels down, until they are eye to eye.

“Well, I am glad you are not in trouble. What need did you have of me?”

Toussaint had so many questions, but he can’t remember any of them, mortification rising up hot through his toes and face and head. He shrinks down, presses his lips tightly together.

”I can’t think,” he says frantically. “I forgot.”

“That is all right,” says K’uk’ulkan kindly, the way adults do when they don’t want you to feel bad about a mistake, which only makes Toussaint feel worse. At least until K’uk’ulkan just…sinks down to sit on the bit of driftwood, right next to Toussaint. ”You’ll remember what you had to say. I know you called for me before. I can take some time.”

Toussaint can’t think of what was so urgent. His brain is empty. He called the sea king up in a way he wasn’t supposed to for no reason.

”Take a deep breath. Try not to think of anything. It will come back.”

Toussaint wishes he had his Eagle Eye, even if Mama asked him to keep it in the house. At least then he’d have his code, and he could remember what was so desperately important and not just be fumbling around like a baby.

“You want to help Auntie, right?” Toussaint blurts out, then immediately feels foolish. “You helped save her.”

But K’uk’ulkan smiles. “Of course. That is as it should be. We are sister nations — we protect Wakanda’s champion, and she protects our way of life.”

“Auntie said your kingdom is beautiful.”

K’uk’ulkan seems pleased. “That is true.”

“How did she find you the first time, if your kingdom is hidden?”

“Has she not told you this story?”

“We haven’t gotten there yet — she’s so busy.” Toussaint doesn’t mean to sound petulant, but he can hear it. K’uk’ulkan chuckles, which irritates Toussaint; he hunches in on himself, wishing he had a carapace to tuck himself into.

“She has many responsibilities. Do not be too upset with her.”

“I’m not upset.” Toussaint stares at the shell in his hands. “We do talk. It’s just…we could talk more.”

“I know that feeling,” says K’uk’ulkan. “To answer your question, your aunt came to my kingdom as my guest. I requested Wakanda’s help to protect my people, and she wanted to discuss those terms further. You might wish to speak to your aunt for more information.”

“Is she allowed? She doesn’t talk to me about what Wakanda does with your kingdom. She says it’s a secret within a secret.”

“That is correct.”

“Even for me? You said you did not mind if I knew more about Talokan.”

K’uk’ulkan snorts softly.

“You have a good memory. But yes, where my nation must remain a secret, even from you. But it will not always be like that. Do you understand?”

Toussaint nods. “But if I can know something now, I want to know it. I like hearing people talk about things. Mama says you learn a lot just by listening.”

“She’s right. These have helped me a great deal,” K’uk’ulkan gestures at his own ears. Toussaint stares at the points of them, fascinated.

“Can I touch them?” he asks, before remembering that it’s rude to touch people. But K’uk’ulkan nods gravely, and leans forward. Toussaint carefully approaches him and pokes at his ear with one finger. To his disappointment, the pointed elf ear doesn’t feel any different from a regular ear — it bends the same. K’uk’ulkan just sits patiently, like it doesn’t bother him at all.

“Thank you,” Toussaint says, awkwardly, taking his hand away. “How far can you hear?”

“Very far. I do not know how to quantify it.”

“Auntie likes to know stuff like that. She could run experiments on you.”

K’uk’ulkan smirks. “Not yet. But it might be an interesting idea, if our plans require it.”

Toussaint remembers his other question. “Auntie said you’re a good king.”

K’uk’ulkan’s eyebrows go way up, and he cocks his head to the side. “Did she?”

“Didn’t she tell you?”

“She did not,“ says K’uk’ulkan, very pleased, to Toussaint’s confusion. “That is a gratifying compliment. My people are the reason why I am who I am.”

“Because you’ve been doing it for a really long time, right?”

”That’s right.”

”Was it hard to learn?”

“It was. And you never stop learning, little prince.”

”Toussaint,” Toussaint reminds him, a bit impatiently.

”My apologies, Toussaint. Even with the wisdom of my ancestors that our elders had preserved and my council, I had to learn as I went. They prepared me as best they could, but there is much you will only learn once you have to make decisions.”

“Mama said the same thing about Baba. There was a lot he didn’t know before he became king.”

“That is how it is,” says the sea king. “I ascended the throne very young, as well.”

“Did you meet him?”

“No. Most of what I know of him, I learned from your aunt.”

”Auntie talked to you about him?” Toussaint is surprised. Why would she have told the sea king about Baba if they never met?"

“Yes, the first time we met. Did you know him?” Toussaint nods. K’uk’ulkan continues, “That is good. I never knew my own father, except for what my mother told me. Does your mother speak much of your father?”

Toussaint nods again, tracing a river and a little hut in the sand. “They grew up together. Mama tells me a lot about him. About what food he liked, what stories he liked. I remember watching movies with him — he liked big action movies. Do you watch movies?”

“I do not,” says K’uk’ulkan, smiling a little. “That kind of technology does not work so well in my kingdom. But we have other means to tell stories.”

“What’s your favorite?”

“I have seen and heard too many stories to choose only one. But at your age, I enjoyed the tales of the Hero Twins.”

“Who were they?”

K’uk’ulkan tells him. He falls into the story like he’s told it many times before — probably to other boys Toussaint’s age. There’s a cadence to his speech that Toussaint can let his imagination sprawl, picturing the house in which the twins were raised with their grandmother, where they outsmarted their half-siblings and planned to meet the Lords of Xibalba, and defeat them in their own game. When Toussaint asks about the rules of the game, K’uk’ulkan describes them, and then continues without losing his place.

When Auntie tells a story, Toussaint always asks questions, to make sure the story stays on course, because there are always many paths they can wander. With K’uk’ulkan, it feels like he can float and the current of the story will carry him where he needs to go.

“I like talking to you,” he says. K’uk’ulkan looks surprised, then smiles.

“And I, you. But you should not use that conch shell to call me like this.”

“What if I want to talk to you about other things?”

”What kind of things?”

”Anything. I am going to be the next Black Panther, so I need to know what the Black Panther knows. Can I do that with you?”

“You are right to seek out knowledge,” says K’uk’ulkan.

”How do I do that without the conch?”

K’uk’ulkan looks thoughtful. “Let me think of a solution. And speak to your mother — I want to be certain there are no misunderstandings.”

Toussaint squirms, a little guilty at the thought of Mama and hoping that K'uk'ulkan does not notice. “What kind of misunderstanding?”

K’uk’ulkan meets Toussaint’s eyes, and for the first time, Toussaint can feel how old the sea king is — his eyes reflect back eons. “Your nation and mine were very recently in conflict. We hurt each other, even though our true enemy lies elsewhere. Trust is very fragile right now. Your aunt and I are working hard to foster a good relationship between our peoples — let us not break it. Do you understand?”

He does. Sometimes, Toussaint hears adults talk and he doesn’t believe them. He can tell that the dressmaker doesn’t really like children, even when she says she does, and he knows that Antoine’s mama and Josephine’s mama don’t get along even when they are nice to each other. But he can hear how much K’uk’ulkan wants things to be good between Wakanda and Talokan. Toussaint trusts Mama that K’uk’ulkan might be dangerous to other people, but he is probably dangerous like how Auntie is dangerous — not to most people, but to the bad guys who want to hurt them.

”I don’t want a misunderstanding either.”

”I am glad we agree.”

“But when will you come back? Next week?” Did sea kings have the same calendar as he did? “I mean — seven days?”

“I know what a week is, little prince,” says K’uk’ulkan, amused. “That would be the new moon.”

Toussaint doesn’t know about the moon phase, but he smiles, happy that K’uk’ulkan has agreed. K’uk’ulkan smiles again, too, the one that makes him look like a teacher or father. “Any other questions?”

He does have one, but Toussaint hesitates.

“Why does Auntie call you Namor, not K’uk’ulkan? Is that your real name?”

K’uk’ulkan’s smile disappears, and his whole body shifts a little bit, like a cat coiling up. “Not in the way that you mean.”

“Why? What does ‘Namor’ mean?”

K’uk’ulkan smiles, but it looks like he would rather be frowning instead. “It means ‘without love’. The first surface dweller I ever encountered called me that, and I have used it ever since when I am outside my home.”

That doesn’t sound like a good name. “Why would Auntie call you that?”

K’uk’ulkan is quiet, for longer than Toussaint expects. “It is the first name she knew me by. It is not the name I would prefer, but she has proven to be an ally, and that is more important.”

Vaguely, Toussaint remembers that Auntie called K’uk’ulkan a friend, before he met him, when he gave her the conch shell. He’s surprised that K’uk’ulkan does not use that word. “Do you and Auntie get along?”

“I would say so, though we are trying to get along better.”

“Are allies the same as friends?”

“Not always.”

He’ll have to ask Auntie why she called K’uk’ulkan a friend later, then.

”I’d like to be friends,” offers Toussaint.

K’uk’ulkan smiles warmly, and stands. “Perhaps, one day we will be. Until next time.”

He inclines his head to Toussaint, like a little bow. Toussaint follows suit, and watches as K’uk’ulkan steps away, and sinks back into the water.

Toussaint needs to tell Mama about K’uk’ulkan. He promised K’uk’ulkan, on top of his first promise to Mama, and he wants to be one who honors his promises, like Auntie and K’uk’ulkan. But the next week is so busy, running around with football, a new student comes to the school and needs to be shown around, and Toussaint can’t think of the right words.

On Thursday morning, Mama opens the door and K’uk’ulkan is standing right outside.

He looks different — he’s wearing a light tunic and less jewelry than usual. He nods politely at Mama; Mama is so surprised she almost slams the door shut again. But she catches it with her hand, and holds it in place like she’s still deciding.

“Aj K’uk’ulkan,” she says, and Toussaint’s scalp prickles. He realizes that he hadn’t told K’uk’ulkan when he was done with school. But K’uk’ulkan knows how school works, right? ”What are you doing here? Shuri is not here, she is in Wakanda.”

”I know, Teacher. I am not here about the Black Panther, I am here because of your son.”

Toussaint’s stomach drops.

“My son?”

Toussaint shrinks behind the door as K’uk’ulkan frowns; his eyebrows are sharp and meet in the middle, which looks kind of scary.

“He did not tell you of our conversation?”

“No,” says Mama, still politely, but Toussaint can hear the slide of steely anger beneath her words. He’s going to be in so much trouble. “What did you speak of?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary for the heir of Wakanda,” says K’uk’ulkan smoothly. “He had questions about my kingdom, and of my agreement with the Black Panther. It was a very promising gesture of good faith, one that I thought I would return.”

K’uk’ulkan looks expectantly at Mama. Mama’s face doesn’t show it, but she’s mad; he can feel it like heat from the sand. Mad like the time that a group of the older kids tried to play a prank with a hog-nosed racer on a girl who was deathly scared of snakes.

“He did not tell me any of this.”

K’uk’ulkan sighs, and looks even more serious. “I see. That is concerning.”

“I was going to tell you!” Toussaint blurts out. He peeks up to look at Mama, but Mama’s eyes are still fixed on K’uk’ulkan. K’uk’ulkan looks down at him as if disappointed, which makes Toussaint want to sink through the floor. He mumbles, “I just forgot.”

“There should not be any secrets between a mother and son, little prince,” he says, gravely. “I am glad I was able to speak to you, Teacher. I do not wish to cause any disruption.”

“Thank you,” says Mama, even though she doesn’t sound happy. Mama’s hands are even tighter on Toussaint’s shoulders, like she’s ready to push him back into the house. “I apologize for the trouble.”

K’uk’ulkan opens his fist, revealing a little model turtle that sits in the palm of his hand. It is carved of black vibranium, with a fascinating pattern of flickering blue signs circling its shell.

“It was no trouble. A prince’s education is a considerable undertaking. If he is ever in need of my guidance, touch the calendar on its shell, and it will transmit a date and time right to me.”

“That is a generous offer,” says Mama, in a tone that makes the back of Toussaint’s neck prickle, and makes him want to run back into the house and hide under the covers. “But it is not necessary.”

“I disagree. As his father’s heir, then he will inherit Wakanda’s agreement with Talokan.”

“My son’s path is his own, whether or not he becomes king,” says Mama, and Toussaint forgets his shame and stares up at her. But she won’t look away from K’uk’ulkan.

What does she mean, that Toussaint might not be king one day?

”And as long as it is a possibility, it is one that I would be remiss to ignore.” He sets the turtle on the little table. “As I told the Black Panther, you and your son have my every protection. No decision here will change that. Good day, Teacher. Little prince.”

He leaves. Mama’s grip on Toussaint’s hand is so tight it is nearly painful.

“Mama—“

“We are late,” Mama interrupts. “We cannot talk about this right now.”

She starts toward the gate, but Toussaint stays put.

“Mama, what did you mean, I won’t be like Baba? Did I do something wrong?”

Toussaint’s voice is wobbling, and he’s not going to cry. He’s not. Baba was good and funny. Mama and Auntie spent so much time telling Toussaint how wonderful it was that he was so much like Baba. Why wouldn’t he want to be a king like Baba? Why can’t he be a king like Baba?

Mama comes right back. She doesn’t say anything, and he wonders if she’s so angry that she can’t find the words — Mama never yells. But when she bends down, it’s to wipe at Toussaint’s eyes with her thumbs, like she does when he gets salt water in them.

“Of course, you are like your baba. But to be a king is very different. Most people cannot choose. Your baba and I, we wanted you to have that choice. I did not mean anything more than that. Do you understand?”

Toussaint takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Are you mad that I used the conch shell?”

Mama looks back to the gate, where K’uk’ulkan appeared and vanished so quickly. He sees her gather into herself, before turning back to him. “I‘m concerned, Toussaint. But I need to think. We will talk about this when you are done with your lessons, all right? We’ll go home together.”

It’s the first morning where the quiet makes Toussaint feel heavy, like he wants to sink right into the ground and stay there, instead of dragging step after step the long walk to school.

School isn’t fun. And at the end of day, Mama comes to his classroom as soon as class is dismissed, like she promised.

They take a new path home, the back way, where there are less people walking around. They are walking close to the water.

”I’m sorry. I was going to tell you today that I saw him,” Toussaint says, in a small voice. “I didn’t lie.”

“No, but you did not tell me that it happened, and that is bad enough on its own.” Mama doesn’t sound as angry as she could, but Toussaint cannot say anything. She sighs. “Toussaint, I thought I told you to stay away from him.”

”No, you didn’t.” Mama’s head whips down to face him, and Toussaint explains, talking as fast as he can: “You said to tell you if he scared me. He isn’t scary.”

Mama stares down at him, and Toussaint squirms. He wonders if correcting Mama counts as talking back — Josephine gets in trouble for that a lot, but Toussaint never has.

Mama takes a deep, deep breath, and lets it out in one big whoosh.

“You are just like your aunt,” she mutters, and then says, in her sternest Headmistress voice: “Tell me how you contacted K’uk’ulkan. From the beginning.”

It all pours out: how Toussaint tried experiments to see if the sea king was around. About the blue woman and the waving hand and even about the barracuda. When he is done, Mama just sighs, tugging a bit at the ends of her scarf.

“That is a lot of effort to speak to someone, Toussaint.”

“I’m going to be the Black Panther,” Toussaint repeats, a little frustrated. He feels like he has to say it over and over again. “Auntie needs help, so I want to help.”

”How would you help by talking to the sea king?”

”I can’t help Auntie in a fight,” says Toussaint. “But the ocean is all around us. Auntie is learning about the ocean to help K’uk’ulkan. So can I. And I want to be king — K’uk’ulkan is a king. He can tell me about being a king, and if we are friends, we can help each other even more, and Auntie won’t have to do it all on her own.”

“Oh, baby,” Mama sighs. Then she's quiet, like she's absorbing everything Toussaint said. It's still a little scary. She says, eventually, “Aunt Shuri is not on her own. She has a lot of people to help her. And M’Baku is a good king, he also works with K’uk’ulkan.”

”But they aren’t supposed to know about me. K’uk’ulkan does. And he’s close by. Auntie’s not.”

“I know.” Mama sounds a little pained. “I miss her, too. If I asked you not to contact K’uk’ulkan again, would you make that promise to me?”

No! says Toussaint’s insides. His hand feels heavy, where Mama is holding it.

But it’s Mama. If Mama says not to do something, then he won’t.

“Yes.” Toussaint says, sad but resigned. “I won’t break a promise.”

Mama looks into his eyes, like she can see into the parts of Toussaint that are not always good. Toussaint wants to recoil, but he wills himself to keep his eyes open. She looks for a long time, then nods.

”Did you not tell me about K’uk’ulkan because you were afraid I would tell you not to meet him again?”

”Yes,” says Toussaint, very quietly.

“I see.” Two women turn onto their path; Mama waits until they pass completely before asking: “Have I told you how your baba and I explored the secret passages around the necropolis?”

“Why?” Toussaint can’t imagine wanting to do that, be in a tight little space where there is no sun or sky.

“We wanted to know where they would go. We found places we certainly were not supposed to go. It was very dangerous, we could have been trapped at any time.”

“And you didn’t get caught?” asks Toussaint, skeptical. Mama talks all the time about how everyone would look out for Baba in Wakanda — they must have been very sneaky.

“No, we thought we were quick enough to avoid trouble. We were able to answer our parents without having to lie, and we thought that was enough. We only stopped after we got too close to Bashenga’s resting place, where only the living Black Panther is allowed to enter. Your grandfather caught us.”

“Uh oh.” says Toussaint. “You got in trouble?”

”That’s right. My mama would not let me leave the house for a week. Your baba got extra studies. At the time I thought it was unfair, because I thought we had been very careful. It is only now that I understand how lucky we were that nothing worse happened.“

Toussaint stares down at his sneakers, ashamed. “I’m sorry.”

Mama stops walking and crouches down to face Toussaint. She tilts his chin up with the flat of her hand, just like how Grandmother once did. “I know you are. And I want you to explore the world and understand it. I don’t want to stick to you like isanama seeds. But I need to know that you won’t hide information from me. If you were in trouble, I would do anything to protect you, but I might not wait to understand. In that case, an incomplete truth can cause as much damage as a lie. Do you understand?”

Toussaint thinks he does. “K’uk’ulkan said that, too. He said he didn’t want a misunderstanding.”

“He would say that.” Mama’s smile has a weird twist to it — not like a fake smile, but like it hurts. “We can’t unknow secrets after they have been discovered. You want to know more about the world to better protect it. That is a good quality to have, and I want you to keep it. But I‘m also your mother, and I want to know you won’t hide from me. Even if it’s bad or scary, I want to know so I can help you.”

She takes both of his hands in both of hers, and Toussaint can feel a hum in the air between them, from Mama’s skin to his, where their tattoos glow. It raises the fine hairs on his arms; it feels like the first time she told him about Baba and who he was.

She squeezes a pulse through his hands. “Can I ask you to promise me that?”

Of course he can. Toussaint takes a deep breath. “Yes. I promise to my father T’Challa, king of Wakanda, son of T’Chaka and Ramonda, and to Mama, Nakia, daughter of Yaa. I will not hide anything about the king of Talokan.”

It’s easy to say — not at all like the possibility of promising not to see K’uk’ulkan again.

Mama exhales; this time, she sounds relieved.

”That was good, Toussaint. I hope you know I will always protect you.”

”Yeah,” says Toussaint impatiently. “You’re Mama.”

Mama smiles, big and wide and glowing.

“Good.”

Mama takes him down to the beach. K’uk’ulkan is already sitting right where the water comes in. His legs are crossed and his eyes are closed, though he opens them once Toussaint comes to stand next to him. He smiles at Toussaint, then stands when he sees Mama. Mama’s face is Headmistress-serious. She looks almost fierce.

“If you meet my son, it will be on this beach. Nowhere else. I am not like those who stonewall in our Council. We are neighbors — we should know each other. But I am a mother, first. My son is mine. I know what happens here on this island. I see much further than you would expect.”

“I would expect a great deal from the royal family,” replies K’uk’ulkan. He seems confident, pleased.

“My sister says that you keep your word. You said you were sworn to keep my son safe. What words did you swear to the Black Panther that would make that a reality?”

K’uk’ulkan doesn’t seem annoyed that Mama is giving him an order. He doesn’t fidget or square his shoulders or try to be bigger, which Toussaint has sometimes seen men do when Mama confronts them; K’uk’ullkan just nods.

“I told the Black Panther, and I’ll tell you, that the Black Panther, of the Golden tribe, and all of her heirs of both herself and her brother, King T’Challa of Wakanda, will never be endangered by myself, the ocean, or any of its inhabitants.”

Mama listens closely, her arms crossed, then gives a single nod.

“We are neighbors, in a sense," she says, still headmistress-like. "I would hope that my child would be as safe with you as any child of Talokan would be with me.”

K’uk’ulkan’s eyes gleam. “I appreciate your optimism, teacher. It is a refreshing change from your council.”

“Do not speak too long. I will wait for him.”

“Of course,” agrees K’uk’ulkan.

Then, inconceivably, Mama turns and walks back up the beach, closer toward the house. He and K’uk’ulkan watch her go, and see that she lingers, just outside the garden wall. K’uk’ulkan laughs.

“Your mother is more of a diplomat than many I have spoken to,” he says, with some admiration. “If she worked with the Black Panther, it would be a remarkable sight.”

Toussaint, sulking, does not answer. K’uk’ulkan seems amused.

”You seem upset with me.”

“I’m grounded.” Mama told Toussaint that he could not go over to see his friends or watch TV or use his Eagle Eye for three days.

At least K’uk’ulkan offers a sympathetic smile. “Intention does not have the same effect as action. It is important that your mother knows what is happening with her son. You should not do anything that will upset her.”

”I don’t want that,” says Toussaint. “

”I understand. It was good of your mother to agree.”

”Yeah. Auntie says that I need to take you very seriously. That you do not joke.”

”I do joke,” says K’uk’ulkan flatly; for the first time since they’ve met, he sounds annoyed. Toussaint almost laughs, even though it’s not the nice thing to do. But then K’uk’ulkan chuckles a little, like he heard how funny it sounded. “Still, she is right: that is the right place to start, for friends as well as allies.”

“Right. And I want us to be friends,” Toussaint reminds him.

K’uk’ulkan smiles, a handsome smile.

“I am glad, little prince. That is my wish, too. Do you understand how to contact me?”

“Yeah.” The calendar on the turtle’s back is Maya, but Toussaint is confident he can figure it out, just like how he’s figuring out the Eagle Eye.

“Then I will leave you and your mother to your evening. Until next time, little prince.”

”Toussaint.”

”Toussaint,” echoes the king, laughing. “I will see you soon.”

Before Toussaint goes to sleep, he sets the turtle next to Eagle Eye, folded back into a bird. They feel like little guardians, how they sparkle in the night, and Toussaint thinks of all the secrets they hold, so they are not only held in him.

He turns off the light.