by Vered Ehsani
Mr. Evans, startled by my tone, began to stutter terribly. “The h-h-h-herdsmen c-c-c-came by this m-m-m-morning?” he repeated the first part of his statement, flinching as if I might strike him down with my walking stick.
I forced a smile and softened my tone. “Oh, really? And what did they tell you?”
The man relaxed. “That one of their c-c-cows was taken last night by a strange and t-t-terrible beast, a giant with so many legs.” He shrugged his skinny shoulders. “But they say many strange stories. Very imaginative, these natives.”
I wasn’t as sure, nor was I willing to dismiss this story as nothing more than a figment of imagination. “Where did they say this happened?”
Surprised by my interest, Mr. Evans’s eyes widened until they seemed to take up most of his face under the magnifying effect of his large glasses. “Well, it occurred sometime during the night, and they passed by here this morning. So it c-c-can’t have b-b-been so far away. They usually come from Naivasha this time of year, so…” He gestured vaguely in the direction of the freshwater lake down in the valley.
I could only surmise from the man’s account that Koki was near, and she had travelled faster than Kam had anticipated. We weren’t ready for her. I wasn’t ready for her. Without Anansi, what could we expect but a massacre?
Thanking Mr. Evans, I left the office to the accompanying sound of the telegraph being clicked out with the rapid precision of gunfire. In that telegraph, I was finishing with one part of my past, while another was a mere few hours away.
Perhaps the telegraph was unnecessary, I reflected as Nelly plodded back home. I might be dead by the time Prof. Runal read it.
Despite the melancholy prospect of my immediate future, I still felt a sense of relief and accomplishment. One connection to a sad and lonely past had been cut.
In hindsight now, I see how naïve I was, to sincerely believe that such a sordid and sorry history could so easily be put to rest with a single sheet of paper and a few telegraphed words.
Chapter 23
By the time I returned to the Steward home, I’d made my decision: it was time for me to go.
My friends, my family, my circle had sincere intentions to assist me in my battle, but they didn’t fully comprehend how doomed we were to failure. If anyone was to die, let it be only one of us. Let it be me.
I didn’t need to pack much. I replenished my sachet of cinnamon powder, selected a cloak in case I was still alive by nightfall, and packed some dried food and a water canteen for the next meal or two. I didn’t expect to need any more than that. On a whim, I wrote a note, nearly illegible in my haste, addressed to Mr. Timmons, care of Jonas, with an instruction to Jonas not to deliver the note until the next morning.
The barn was quiet when I returned with my few belongings. Jonas was wherever he disappeared to when Mrs. Steward wasn’t monitoring him. The loft was painfully vacant. One of the horses and the ox were gone, while the other horse and Nelly were in the paddock. Nelly trotted after me into the shadows.
“You’re not staying with me,” I informed her as I tightened the saddle girth. “Once we lead Koki away from Nairobi, you’re going to run straight back here. Jonas will see you well looked after, I’m sure.”
Nelly snorted and pushed me with her nose.
“This has to end,” I muttered.
Truth be told, I’d rather hoped it wouldn’t have to end with my demise, but we all have to die one day. At least I’d make a reasonably decent looking corpse, assuming Koki left anything of me to bury.
Nelly tossed her head, bridle jingling.
“I swear at times you understand me, nag,” I told her.
She nickered in that laughing way of hers and stomped a hoof.
“Fine,” I said. “Be that way.” I left the note for Mr. Timmons in the tack room — only Jonas and I ever went in there — and mounted up.
I flicked the reins and the world melted into blurry ribbons of color. I’d aimed her toward the grasslands to avoid hurtling through the small town and construction camp. I wondered if anyone would be able to see us if we had gone that route, but the hassle of explaining to the uninitiated simply wasn’t worth the extra few minutes saved.
Predictably, Nelly slowed down to an easy canter once surrounded by the abundance of grassy food. She snatched at clumps and raced a young zebra while I pondered the best place to look for a giant Mantis. Mr. Evans had mentioned the herdsmen were most likely coming from Lake Naivasha, so I headed in that general direction.
We trotted through a sprawling herd of zebra and buffalo; the zebra greeted Nelly with nickers while the buffalo glowered at me. Aggressive beasts, those. I’d prefer to meet up with a pride of lions than an aggravated buffalo. A few giraffe strolled by, snobbishly ignoring our presence.
Sweat formed in uncomfortable places, while nearly invisible flies danced about my ears and nose. Although we hadn’t been traveling long, I was tempted to stop for a nap until the sun had lowered itself from its throne smack above my head. That thought evaporated upon finding a strip of ground beaten down by the numerous hooves of the herdsmen’s cattle.
The flattened grass was a straight and wide path that connected Nairobi to the lake several hours away, but we didn’t need to travel that far. As we reached the top of a rise, I noticed the smell first: freshly cut grass, a rich, flowery perfume and raw meat at the early stages of decomposition.
My eyes soon caught up. Below us were the remnants of a cow, bones and bits of hide scattered about. What I didn’t see disturbed me more: there were no vultures overhead or hyenas lurking nearby. The lack of any scavengers could only be possible if a significant carnivore still staked out the kill.
Then the noise: a deep, suckling and wet smack. Amongst the debris squatted a woman so dark her skin glowed with a deep blue undertone. She was removing the marrow of a large femur, cracking open the bone easily and slurping at its contents. She tossed it over her shoulder and lazily rose, a mocking smile twisting her lips, arrogance and pride in every movement.
“Well, well, little girl,” Koki crooned, her black eyes glowing with a horrible light. “You have saved me some effort. But that will not save you, or your friends.”
Chapter 24
Koki studied me with the cold calculation of a top predator. I returned the favor, determined not to reveal the turmoil her words had caused.
“What happened with an eye for an eye?” I asked, my words clipped and sharp.
She flung back her head and laughed, an appealing and ringing sound that summoned all to worship her. I wasn’t in the least tempted to do so.
“Oh my dear child,” she said, still chuckling, her striking face alive with humor, “that sentiment is so Old Testament, wouldn’t you say? In this modern and enlightened age, we need not limit ourselves so unnecessarily.”
“Then you won’t mind if I take another of your legs,” I said.
Her face stiffened at the taunt. “I was rather hoping you wouldn’t mind if I returned the favor. After all, how many legs does a human actually need when she’s dead?”
I shrugged. “I’ve always thought it prudent to die in such a way as to provide a decent looking body for the funeral.”
Her smile reminded me of shards of icy glass. “Oh, I don’t think you need worry about that,” she said. “There won’t be a body for anyone to bury.”
With a shriek, her lovely feminine form shifted into a giant Mantis. Nelly flicked her ears, snorted and glanced back at me.
“Time to race the wind,” I whispered and urged her down the cattle’s trail.
Koki vanished in a blur of green and brown, as did the rest of the landscape. The beaten-down path through the grass shrunk into a line below us that disappeared as we flew over the escarpment of the Rift Valley. Blobs of blue indicated a series of lakes and I aimed for the one that was decorated with a fringe of pink.
Soft soil spun under Nelly’s hooves as she churned up the lakeshore, startling a flock of flamingos. In the water, a few sets of large e
ars twitched and a hippo popped its head up to see what had caused the commotion. Unimpressed by our abrupt arrival, it sunk under the water, leaving nothing but a few ripples to disturb the glassy surface.
I glanced away from the smooth lake into a forest of acacia trees, their yellow-barked trunks pushing up interlocking canopies of thorn-tipped branches. A few gazelles leaped deeper into the trees, not as calm about our presence as the hippos had been. A giraffe continued to graze the high branches, a long black tongue dexterously avoiding the thorns.
Apart from a moisture-rich breeze rustling the leaves and a chaotic chorus of competing bird songs, the lakeshore had that depth and richness of quietude that only very natural and untouched places can have. I let Nelly meander along the edge, occasionally veering inland to avoid clusters of tall water reeds.
How long would it take Koki to reach here? Or, and my heart clenched at the thought, would she first attack my unprepared friends before hunting me down, torturing me with the knowledge of their deaths? Why hadn’t I thought of that?
As we plodded along, my anxiety increased. Should I fly back to warn them? What if it was already too late? How could it possibly take this long for her to reach the lake? Even with a missing leg, surely she could hobble along faster. Or had I lost her? That wouldn’t do at all.
I dithered and dathered, one minute determined to race back to Nairobi and throw myself between my friends and Koki, the next as equally determined not to, for surely she was tracking me down.
The sun was nearing the end of its reluctant decline toward the lake when something big rustled through the undergrowth inside the forest.
“About bloody time,” I muttered, weary with the long wait and eager to be done with it, although if being done meant dying, I could stand to wait a bit longer.
I dismounted, prepared to send Nelly off to safety or mount up and lead Koki further afield. I squinted in the direction of the approaching noise. Something didn’t make sense, for the form was equine, not insect, and there was a humanoid on top. The equine solidified into a white horse with black stripes, or was it a black…
“Dr. Ribeiro?” I called out as the zebra came into focus, a man bouncing on top.
He cheerfully waved. “Hello, Miss Knight, it is so very good to be seeing you still alive.”
“But… How…?” I asked, aghast that he was here.
“Well, I had to be changing zebras a few times, you know,” he said, his neck somehow shifting his head side to side without moving anything else. “Zebras are not so very long distance tolerant.” He slapped the neck of his current zebra. “It is most fortunate that there are so very many herds between Nairobi and here.”
“Not really,” I said, wondering how I could convince him to return to those fortunate zebra herds. “How did you know where I was?”
“The zebras,” he answered while shrugging his shoulders in time to music I couldn’t hear, his smile beaming. “They were having some very not usual image of a flying horse in their minds, so very many images in so very many minds. So I asked myself, now who could possibly be flying a horse around here?” He gestured to me as the answer to that question.
“Indeed, who?” another voice said and Mr. Timmons appeared by my side.
Before I could ask if he’d absorbed some creature’s long-distance self-transporting ability, a Popobawa dropped down beside him, the large bat wings cracking and shifting into the arms of Mr. Elkhart.
“I had to inform them, of course,” Dr. Ribeiro added, clearly pleased with himself.
“Of course,” I said, not quite as pleased.
“Actually, Jonas had alerted me upon finding your note,” Mr. Timmons clarified and waved the evidence before me. “I was on my way to Mr. Elkhart when I met the good doctor who further elucidated on your activities.”
“What were you thinking, Mrs. Knight?” Mr. Elkhart asked, his forehead furrowed with his concern.
“That I could trust Jonas to follow simple instructions,” I said, dark thoughts gathering on what I would say to the gardener if I should live long enough.
“Perhaps the more appropriate question was were you thinking?” Mr. Timmons added, his eyes blazing a grey storm.
“I was indeed. I was thinking I’d prefer to spare my friends dismemberment and decapitation,” I said curtly.
“Dismemberment is a very painful and sometimes very lethal process,” Dr. Ribeiro said with a thoughtful expression. “Decapitation even more so. But that is not a very good reason to run away.”
“I didn’t run away,” I said, avoiding Mr. Timmons’ glare.
I never did have the opportunity to explain what I had been doing, for there was a flash of lightning, and three lions dropped from the sky.
Chapter 25
Upon their paws touching the ground, two of the lions shifted into identical women. One of them smiled at me with the expression of recognition, but it took me longer to connect the willowy young women with the two girls I’d met only a couple months ago.
“Nyambura?” I asked. It was hard to believe, but how many twin were-lions was I acquainted with?
Her smile broadened into the youthful, carefree smile of a child. “Miss Knight.”
“Oona?” I asked the other, who nodded her head, her smile less forthcoming.
“My, you’ve certainly grown up rather fast,” I noted. It would appear were-lions grew at the rate of a normal lion rather than a human, I mused.
Their mother, Nyarvirazi, remained in lion form, which meant she hadn’t eaten recently, which led me to conclude that she was probably hungry. I hoped she would look to the prancing zebra first, if that was an issue. I nodded to her.
“Can you also fly?” I asked.
Oona frowned at me while Nyambura’s laughter bubbled around her. “Our uncle…”
On cue, a lightning bolt descended into our midst, followed by a rumble of thunder, and Kam was there, a long club in one hand, a spear in the other, and a bow and quiver strapped to his back. He ignored us and glanced about, surveying the scene with such intensity that I was sure he detected every blade of grass and fallen leaf.
I didn’t bother asking him how he’d known. They were all here, one way or another, and I wasn’t certain if I should be grateful or horrified. Perhaps a bit of both.
“Lilly and Cilla? Jonas?” I asked, glancing between Mr. Elkhart and Mr. Timmons, who seemed determined not to forgive me for leaving.
“They’re safe and together,” Mr. Elkhart answered.
That would have to do for now, particularly as something even bigger and meaner than a zebra was crashing through the shadowy forest. Speaking of zebras, Dr. Ribeiro’s mount decided it had had quite enough of all this nonsense, what with giant bats and lions raining down from the sky. With a snort, it turned about and raced along the shoreline and into the deepening twilight.
“Dr. Ribeiro,” I said, as close to pleading as I’d ever come. Koki provoked that weaker aspect out of me. “Please take Nelly and leave here. If you haven’t heard from any of us by dawn, you must take Lilly and Cilla to Mombasa and board the first ship to leave dock. And tell Jonas to go far away as well.”
His eyes widened. “Miss Knight, this idea is so very preposterous. I can’t be abandoning you in your moment of need.”
The crashing approached.
“You aren’t,” I reassured him, eyeing his lack of weapons. “You’ll be unburdening me of my greatest concern: the safety and wellbeing of my cousin and of my friend.”
Mr. Elkhart nodded agreement and Mr. Timmons frowned but murmured an approving word.
“I would only wish the rest of you would go…” I began, only to be interrupted fiercely by several protesting voices.
Perhaps my argument persuaded him, or perhaps the brave little doctor realized he had nothing to bring to the fight. Either way, Dr. Ribeiro mounted Nelly, who was unperturbed by all the commotion, too busy chomping on whatever she had found around her.
“Take the girls too,” Kam comma
nded.
Nyambura began to protest while Oona glared at her uncle.
“You wished to see Miss Knight,” he said, forcing his words over theirs. “You have seen her. Now you must go.”
“He’s correct,” I said, grasping Nyambura’s hands in mine, acutely aware of the approach of the Mantis. “You would be far more useful assisting the doctor and Jonas in protecting Lilly and Cilla. In fact, I would be grateful beyond measure if you would do that. For me.”
With these parting words, the girls were somewhat placated and reluctantly climbed up behind Dr. Ribeiro. Nelly glanced at the unusual load on her back and then at me, her ears twitching about.
“Fly home, Nelly,” I said, rubbing her soft nose, wondering if I would see my spirited nag again.
With a toss of her head, she raced after the zebra, her legs rapidly churning up clumps of grass. With a snap of lightning, she leaped upward and transformed into a blur of motion, leaving behind a turbulent cloud that dissipated in the cool breeze brushing off the lake’s surface.
We didn’t have time to consider a plan or argue about who else should leave. A shadow separated from the forest, where night had seeped in between the trees. It was not the giant I had anticipated but a woman as beautiful as the night and far more dangerous.
“Is this all?” Koki asked, surveying our little band.
We turned to face her fully, our backs to the darkening lake.
“Delightful,” she crooned in her seductive voice. “A bat, a lion, a girl, a sky spirit and…” She looked Mr. Timmons up and down, a smile forming at whatever she observed in him. “My, my, aren’t you a treasure. Perhaps I shall keep you as my pet when I’m done. Hm?”
Mr. Timmons sneered. “I’m not domesticated,” he said.
“You will be,” she promised.
Nyarvirazi snarled and Koki glanced at the were-lion as if she were no more than a tiny kitten. “I’m so disappointed in you, Nyarvirazi. I expected more from a creature such as yourself. Perhaps all those years spent as a feline has addled your sense of loyalty?”
