“Anyway, she told me that she’d seen him change into an eagle, that goats would follow and obey him. Small things like that. Daib and I had an immediate connection. The moment I saw him, I knew he’d be my student. For twenty years, he was my child, my son. I will not go into the details. Just know that it was right and then it went wrong. So you must see it now. Your father, Mwita’s Master, and my student,” Sola said. Then he sang, “Three is the magic number. Yes it is. It’s the magic number.” He smirked, “I knew Daib’s mother well. She had lovely hips and a mischievous smile.”
I shivered at the thought of him bedding my grandmother. Again I wondered just how human Sola was. “So what am I to do, Oga Sola?” I asked.
“Rewrite the Great Book,” he said. “Don’t you know that?”
“But how do I do that, Oga Sola? The idea doesn’t even make sense! And you say we only have two weeks? You can’t rewrite a book that is already written and known by thousands of people. And it’s not even the book that is making people behave this way.”
“Are you sure about that?” Sola coldly asked. “Have you read it?”
“Of course I have, Oga,” I said.
“Then you have understood the images of light and dark? Beauty and ugliness? Clean and dirty? Good and evil? Night and day? Okeke and Nuru? See?”
I nodded, but I felt I needed to look at the book again to further connect the dots. Maybe I could find the something I needed to take down my father.
“No,” he said. “Leave the book now. You know what you have to do. You just haven’t brought it forward in your mind yet. That’s why he was able to humiliate you the way he did. You better figure it out soon, though. My only advice is this: Mwita, keep her from going alu. It’ll take her right to Daib again. He’ll kill her swiftly now. The only reason he didn’t before was because he wanted her to suffer. Whatever happens between her and Daib must happen on its own time, not alu time.”
“But how do I stop her?” Mwita asked. “When she goes, she just goes.”
“You’re the one she belongs to, figure it out,” Sola said.
Ting elbowed me to keep my mouth shut.
Sola pursed his lips. “Now, woman, you’ve jumped an important hurdle. You’ve been unlocked. Many envy what we can do but if they knew what it took to be what we are, few would want to join the ranks.” He looked at Mwita. “Few.” He looked at Ting. “This woman here has trained for nearly thirty years. You, Onyesonwu, haven’t even gotten a decade in. You’re a baby, yet you have this task. Beware of your ignorance.
“Ting knew her center early. It is in these juju scripts. You, I suspect, will focus on your Eshu side, changing and traveling. But you lack control. No one can help you with that.” He snapped his fingers and seemed to whisper to someone. Then he said, “We’re through with this palaver.” He smiled broadly. “I’m not hungry but I want to taste Vah cuisine, Ssaiku. And where are your town’s old women? Bring them, bring them!”
He laughed raucously and so did Ssaiku. Even Mwita looked amused.
“Onyesonwu, Ting, go to Chieftess Sessa’s tent and bring us the food she has prepared,” Ssaiku said. “And tell those who wait there that their company is eagerly requested.”
Ting and I quickly left the tent. I didn’t care how much my body protested at the fast movement, I’d have done anything to get out of there. Once outside, we walked slowly as I tried to hide my slight limp.
“I think they wish to speak with Mwita alone,” Ting said.
“Right,’ I said.
“I know,” Ting said. “They’re old and have the same problem. But it’s changing.”
I grunted.
“Sola laughed at me when I first came to him . . . until he threw his bones and got the shock of his life,” Ting said. “Then Sola had to convince Ssaiku about me.”
“How did you . . . find Sola?”
“Woke up one day, knew what I wanted and where to find him, and found him. I was only eight.” She shrugged. “You should have seen his face when I entered his tent. Like I was a pile of rotten goat feces.”
“I think I know the look. He’s so white. Is he . . . is he human?”
“Who knows,” she said laughing.
“Do . . . do you think when the time comes that I’ll know what to do? As you did?”
“You’ll find out soon.” She looked at my ankle. “Maybe you should go sit down. I’ll bring the food.”
I shook my head. “I’m okay. You just hold the heavier plates.”
Mwita, Ting, and I didn’t eat with Sola and Ssaiku. I was relieved. Sola didn’t look up once the food was set before him. Heaps of everything, even egusi soup, something I hadn’t had since we’d left Jwahir. The three of us made a quick exit as soon as the two started to eat and talk about the breasts and backgrounds of the old women who were soon to arrive.
It took us nearly a half hour to get back to our campsite because of my ankle. I refused to lean on Mwita or Ting. When we got there we found Luyu sitting alone. She’d unbraided and brushed out her Afro. Even in her sorrow, she was lovely. I froze, looking at Mwita, who was looking at the two spaces where Diti and Fanasi’s tents had been. A look of complete and utter disgust passed over his face. “You can not be serious,” he said. “They left?”
Luyu nodded.
“When?! During the . . . when Ting was saving Onyesonwu’s life? They left?”
“I found out, right after you left,” I said. “Then Sola came . . .”
“How could he?” Mwita shouted. “He knew . . . I told him so much . . . and he still ran off? Because of Diti? That girl?”
“Mwita!” Luyu exclaimed getting up. Ting chuckled.
“You don’t know,” Mwita said. “You’ve just been having intercourse with him, with men, you and Diti, like rabbits.”
“Eh!” Luyu exclaimed. “It takes a woman and man to . . .”
“He and I spoke like brothers,” he said, ignoring her. “He said he understood.”
“Maybe he did,” I said. “But that doesn’t make him the same as you.”
“He had nightmares about the killings, the torture, the rapes. He said he had a duty. That change was worth dying for. Now he runs off because of a woman?”
“Wouldn’t you?” I said.
He looked me square in the face, his eyes wet and red. “No.”
“You came because of me.”
“Don’t bring us into this,” he said. “You’re tied to it, you’ll die in it. I’ll die for you. This isn’t only about us.”
I froze. “Mwita, what do you mean . . .”
“No,” Ting spoke up. “Hold your tongue. All of you. Stop this.”
Ting took my cheeks in her warm hands. “Listen to me,” she said. As I looked into her brown eyes, tears fell fast from mine. “Enough answers. This isn’t the time, Onye. You’re exhausted, you’re overwhelmed. Rest. Leave it alone.” She turned to Mwita. “There are three of you left. It’s right. Let it go.”
Somehow I slept that night. Mwita’s body was pressed to mine and my belly was full from the small feast Ting brought us. Still, it was in this sleep that the dreams started. Of Mwita flying away. The dream was of Mwita and me on a small island with a small house. All around us was so much water. The ground was soft with it and covered with tiny green water plants. Mwita sprouted wings with brown feathers. Without even a kiss, he flew away, never looking back.
CHAPTER 52
WE LEFT SSOLU IN THE DEEPEST PART OF NIGHT. Chieftess Sessa, Chief Usson, Ssaiku, and Ting accompanied us.
“You’ll have an hour, so move quickly,” Ssaiku said, as we passed all the tents for the last time. “If you’re caught when I resume the storm, bear down and keep moving.”
I heard the sound of small feet. “Eyess!” Chieftess Sessa hissed. “Go back to bed!”
“But Mommy, she’s leaving!” Eyess shouted in tears. Her loud voice woke several people in nearby tents. Ting cursed to herself.
“Go back to bed, everyone, please,” Chief
Usson said.
People came out anyway. “Can’t we say good-bye, chief?” a man asked. Chief Usson sighed and reluctantly assented. More whispering and gathering. Within a minute, there was a large crowd.
“We know where they’re going,” a woman said. “Let us at least see them off.”
“We’ve enjoyed having Onyesonwu here,” another woman said. “Strange as she is.”
Everyone laughed. More people gathered, their bare feet whispering over the sand.
“We’ve enjoyed her beautiful friend Luyu, too,” a man said. Several men agreed and everyone laughed again. Someone lit sticks of incense. After several moments, as if someone had given a cue, they all began to sing in Vah. The song sounded like a chorus of snakes and it carried easily over the noise of the storm. They didn’t smile as they sang. I shivered.
Eyess held my leg tightly. She sobbed and eventually buried her face in my hip. If I weren’t carrying a burden on my back, I’d have picked her up. I put my hand on her back and pressed her to me. When the song ended, Chieftess Sessa had to tear Eyess from my leg. She allowed her to give me a hug and a slobbery kiss on the neck before sending her along, then Chieftess Sessa gave each of us a kiss on the cheek. Chief Usson shook Mwita’s hand and kissed Luyu and me on the forehead. Ssaiku and Ting walked us to the edge of the storm.
“Watch closely,” Ssaiku told Ting as we stood before it. “It’s different when you’re close to it. Everyone, kneel down.”
He raised his hands and turned his palms to the storm. He spoke something in Vah and turned his hands downward. The ground shuddered as he pressed the storm’s strength to the ground. Ssaiku’s hands strained and I could see the muscles in his neck flexing underneath his wrinkles. All the sand in the air dropped. The sound reminded me of the sounds the Vah people make so often when they speak their language. Sssssssss. We covered our faces from all the dust. Ssaiku pushed forward. A wind blew it all away, clearing the air. The night sky was full of stars. I’d gotten so used to the constant background noise of the storm that the silence was profound.
Ssaiku turned to Ting, “Instead of using words as I did, you’ll write into the air.”
“I know,” she said.
“Learn it again,” he said. “And again.” He looked at Mwita and took his hand. “Take care of Onyesonwu.”
“Always,” Mwita said.
He turned to Luyu. “Ting tells me about you. In many ways, you’re like a man in your bravery and your . . . other appetites. Again, I wonder if Ani is testing me by showing me a woman like you. Do you understand what you move into?”
“Very much so,” Luyu said.
“Then watch over these two. They need you,” he said.
“I know,” Luyu said. “And thank you.” She looked at Ting. “Thank you both and I also thank your village. For everything.” She shook hands with Ssaiku and gave Ting a tight hug. Then Ting went to Mwita and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Neither Ting nor Ssaiku hugged or even touched me.
“Beware of your hands,” Ting told me. “And be aware of them.” She paused, her eyes filling with tears. She shook her head and stepped back.
“You know the way,” Ssaiku said. “Don’t stop going until you get there.”
We were over a mile away when the sandstorm whipped up behind us. It churned and rolled like a living cloud clawing at the clear sky. We sorcerers are certainly a powerful sort. The ferocity and power of that storm only proved this more. Mwita, Luyu, and I turned west and started walking.
“We’re near water,” Mwita said.
Once the sun was up, I pulled my veil lower over my face. Mwita and Luyu did the same. The heat was stifling, but it was a different kind of heat. Heavier, more humid. Mwita was right. There was water close by.
Over the next few days, we started wearing our veils all the time to stay cool. But the nights were comfortable. None of us spoke much. Our minds were too heavy. This gave me the time and silence to really mull over all that had happened in Ssolu.
I’d died, been remade, and then brought back. My hands continued to look strange to me, covered in dark black symbols and always bearing the faint scent of burned flowers. When Mwita and Luyu were asleep, I’d sneak out, change into a vulture, and ride the air. It was the only way I kept the darkness of doubt at bay.
As a vulture, the vulture that was Aro, my mind was singular, sharp, and confident. I knew that if I focused and was audacious I could defeat Daib. I understood that I was extremely powerful now, that I could do more than the impossible. But as Onyesonwu the Ewu Sorceress shaped by Ani herself, all I could think about was the thrashing Daib had given me. I’d been no match for him even in my remade state. I should have been dead. And the more the days passed, the more I just wanted to crawl into a cave and give up. Little did I know that I’d soon get my chance to do just that.
CHAPTER 53
FOUR DAYS AFTER LEAVING SSOLU, the land was still cracked, dry and bleached. The only animals we saw were the occasional beetle on the ground and passing hawk in the sky. Thankfully, for the time being, we had enough food so that we didn’t have to eat beetle or hawk. The oddly humid heat made everything hazy and dreamlike.
“Look at that,” Luyu said. She was leading the way, her portable in hand to keep us on track.
I’d been walking with my head down, deep in my gloomy thoughts about Daib and the death I was voluntarily heading toward. I looked up and squinted. From afar, they looked like tall skinny giants having a meeting.
“What is that?” I asked.
“We’ll soon see,” Mwita said.
It was a cluster of dead trees. They were a half mile off from the straight line we were making to the Seven Rivers Kingdom. It was the middle of the day and we needed the shade so we went to the trees. Up close they were even stranger. Not only were they each as wide as a house, they felt like stone not wood. Luyu knocked on a brown-gray trunk as I spread my mat in the shade of another tree’s base.
“So solid,” Luyu said.
“I know this place,” Mwita said with a sigh.
“Really?” Luyu asked. “How?”
But Mwita just shook his head and ambled off.
“He’s moody today,” Luyu said, sitting beside me on my mat.
I shrugged. “He probably came through here when he fled the West,” I said.
“Oh,” Luyu said, looking in his direction. I hadn’t told her much about Mwita’s past. Somehow I didn’t think Mwita wanted me telling anyone about the murder of his parents, his humiliating apprenticeship under Daib, or his child soldier days.
“I can’t imagine how he must feel coming back here,” I said.
After a peaceful two hours of rest, we continued on. It came about five hours later. And it came with a vengeance. Dark gray clouds curdled and surged in the sky.
“This can’t be happening,” Mwita muttered as we stared west. It was heading east, right at us. Not a sandstorm. An ungwa storm, a dangerous storm of terrible lightning and thunder and intermittent deluges of rain. We’d been lucky so far as it was the dry season when we left Jwahir and these storms only happened during the brief rainy season. We’d been traveling for a little less than five months. In Jwahir, this was right on time. I guess it was the same here, too. To be caught out in an ungwa storm was to risk death by lightning strike.
These were the only times that my mother and I were in danger during our nomad days. My mother said it was only by Ani’s will that we survived the ten ungwa storms we encountered.
This one wasn’t far and it was coming fast. All around us was flat dry land. Not a dead tree in sight, not that trees would help. We’d have been in even more danger if this storm had caught us at those stone trees. The wind picked up, nearly blowing my veil off. We had about a half hour.
“I . . . I know a place we could take shelter,” Mwita suddenly said.
“Where?” I asked.
He paused. “A cave. Not far from here.” He plucked Luyu’s portable from her hand and pressed a button
on the side of it for light. The clouds had just snuffed out the sun. Though it was about three p.m., it looked like late dusk. “About ten minutes . . . if we run.”
“Okay, which way?” Luyu screeched. “Why are we . . .”
“Or we could try to outrun it,” he suddenly said. “We could head northwest and . . .”
“Are you crazy?” I snapped. “We can’t outrun an ungwa storm!”
He muttered something that I couldn’t hear because of the rumble of thunder.
“What?”
He frowned at me. A stroke of lightning cracked the sky. We all looked up.
“Which way to your cave?” I demanded.
Still he said nothing. Luyu looked about to explode. Each second we stood there brought us closer to death by lightning strike.
“I . . . I don’t think we should go there,” he said after a moment.
“So we should stay out here and die?” I shouted. “Do you know what will . . .”
“Yes!” he snapped. “I’ve been through it, too! But the shelter . . . that place isn’t right, it . . .”
“Mwita,” Luyu said. “Let’s go, there’s no time for this. We’ll deal with whatever’s there.” She looked fearfully at the sky. “We don’t have a choice.”
I eyed him closely. It was rare to see fear in Mwita but there it was.
“So you can push me toward a masquerade riddled with needles and demand that I face my fear but you can’t face a stupid cave?” I shouted waving my arms about. “You’d rather get us all killed? I thought you were the man and I was the woman.”
My words bit deep but I didn’t care. It started to rain along with the lightning and thunder. He pointed a finger in my face and I looked fiercely back at him. Luyu screeched at an especially loud crash of thunder. She pressed close behind me.
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