This year, whether you’re a big kid or a little one, try your hand at illustrating the chapters of this story, told in turn by six authors. And maybe see your drawing published in our magazine. This month, it’s Mia, 16 years old, from Paris, who created images to go with Anne Samuel’s words.

histoire, barque,voyage

Boating on the lake
9. Paryaqaqa

Itipulco turns around. An enormous yellow lizard, its back bristling with prickly coral, is staring  at him with its three bulging eyeballs. “That seemed like such a long time,” whispers Paryaqaqa, blocking the entrances to two tunnels with its tail of gilded scales. Its eyes point in different directions at the same time, monitoring all the exits at once. Unsettled by the god of the waters’ words, and by his appearance, Itipulco is rooted to the spot. “Where’s my mother?” he asks, trembling.

The sea monster suddenly changes appearance. His sharp jaw morphs into a face and his backbone ripples. The Indian of the lake then speaks: “Ask your sister.” The silhouette continues  its metamorphosis, its eyes indigo blue, its hair red. “I led you to where I wanted you to be,” his sister says, with the lizard’s raspy voice. The young boy sees he’s being manipulated by the cunning god. For how long? Ever since he learned his mother’s name. Why? He doesn’t know, but intends to find out. “Where is Akayaka? Where is my mother?” he inquires.

An answer seems to come from the confines of the underground galleries: “Do you think  I brought you here to let you defy me?” rumbles Paryaqaqa. The surrounding roots suddenly come alive, snake along the walls and begin to wrap around Itipulco’s legs. “Help, Akayaka!” The grip eases up slightly, enough so that he can wiggle free. He runs breathlessly toward the narrowest tunnel, the one that only a child can slip through. To be continued.

Récreation, objet