The Living Blood

by Tananarive Due

  • • •

  Long before David came back to her chamber and told her breathlessly that they must leave the colony now, Jessica was ready. She had been ready ever since that horrific scene with Kaleb, since she had seen the hollowness in poor Fana’s face afterward, and those awful, too real drawings her daughter had made. She’d probably been ready to leave ever since she first set foot in this magnificent, strange, dying place. She wanted to go home, that was all. It felt like much longer, but she knew she couldn’t have been gone longer than a week, so Alex would still be waiting for her in Botswana. Thank Jesus. Jessica wanted to see her sister so badly, her soul ached.

  David must have saved at least a few clothes from outside, because he was wearing faded black Levi’s jeans and a Harvard University sweatshirt identical to one he’d worn often when they’d been married. It couldn’t be the same sweatshirt—David had left with nothing when they’d parted—but the sight of him dressed that way jarred her momentarily.

  Then, in an instant, she gathered herself. She’d gotten good at that lately.

  “Teferi gave me a new bag for my things,” she said, showing David the colorful woven bag on the bed. “I have some credit cards, but not much cash. David, do you have money?”

  “I’m bringing a few gold bars in your backpack. They’re not practical, but I don’t dare try to tap the colony’s currency reserves or we might be delayed. Once we’re outside, I have a bank account in Europe I can draw from. I’ve had it fifteen years.”

  Oh, I just bet you have, Jessica thought, only slightly irritated. That bank account was news to her, but his secrets no longer surprised her. Besides, she was relieved to find out David had money, because even once they were back in Botswana, she and Alex would soon be broke. They’d been living on savings for years, making no income. She had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before they were going to need all the money they could get.

  Fana, who had been crying for hours, was finally quiet, sitting on the bed as she ran her index finger absently across the designs on Teferi’s bag. She’d glanced up when David had walked into the chamber, but she’d registered no emotion on her face when he’d said they were leaving.

  “Honey? Did you hear what your father said?” Jessica said, kneeling down. She stroked Fana’s hair. “We’re finally going home, just like you wanted.”

  Listlessly, Fana shook her head. “I don’t wanna,” she said dully.

  Jessica’s heart sank. Fana had been through too much, she thought. How could a child as young as she was process all the violence and turmoil that had followed them on this trip? Jessica only hoped her decision to visit the colony had not damaged Fana permanently. Jessica had gotten at least some of what she’d come for—David was with them, at least, and she knew a little more about her daughter’s power—but at what price?

  “Sweetie, don’t you want to see Aunt Alex and Moses and Aunt Sarah?”

  At that, Fana looked up at Jessica with a resignation that chilled her. Fana only shrugged, mumbling something Jessica didn’t hear. Something she was reluctant to say too loudly.

  “She told me she had a bad dream about her house,” Teferi said suddenly from behind David in the doorway. Jessica hadn’t even known he was standing there, since Teferi had been keeping some distance ever since his eerie nosebleed. “That’s why she drew the picture, she said. She saw something there that frightened her.”

  Jessica sighed, trying to keep the pounding of her heart at bay. Powers or no powers, children had bad dreams that didn’t mean anything, she told herself. She couldn’t get anxious about something that could be meaningless, not with so many other problems to worry about. “Fana, I’m sorry you had a bad dream, but we can’t stay here, all right? There’s nothing bad at the house—you’ll see.”

  “Promise, Mommy?” Fana said, her face lighting up dramatically. Jessica realized she only had to say the right words, and her daughter might start to resemble her old self again. But how could she make a promise like that?

  “I can’t promise that, Fana, because I don’t know for sure,” Jessica said. “But we haven’t been gone a long time, and I don’t think anything bad has happened. I’m pretty sure we’ll get back and everything will be fine. Is that good enough?”

  The light in Fana’s eyes vanished. “I wan’ Te-fe-ri to come, too.”

  Jessica glanced at David, who looked predictably annoyed, then she looked back at Fana. “Well, sweetie, Teferi lives here. He doesn’t want to come.”

  Suddenly, Teferi cleared his throat. “Actually, Mrs. Wolde . . .” He cast his eyes down, but not before Jessica saw his tears, and she felt sorry for him. “I hope you will not think me weak, but . . . I am already attached to this child, as she is to me. I have no illusions that I am her father—only Dawit has that place, and she knows this, too. But she is most special, and . . . I fear I no longer have reason to stay here. Khaldun’s behavior has been . . .”

  “Khaldun is about to send the Life Brothers away, I think,” David said with some patience, finishing for Teferi. “I’ll explain it later, but Teferi may be right. That’s why we have to go, because the colony is about to undergo severe changes, and we won’t be safe without Khaldun’s protection.” David sighed hotly, exasperated. “Teferi, you have helped us, so you’ll be partially blamed for what’s happened here. And I confess you could be of use to us. You know some of the more obscure passages better than I do, and you could get us out of here safely. But I will have no patience for trouble from you.”

  “And you shall have none,” Teferi said, alert. “I am at your service, I promise you.”

  It takes a village to raise a child, Jessica thought suddenly, remembering the African proverb that was one of her favorites. Fana needed everyone she could get.

  “Let him come, then,” Jessica said. “Let’s just go while we can. And, Fana, do you remember what I told you? That most important thing? Say it.”

  Bashfully, Fana lowered her eyes. “Bad thoughts can’t hurt me. Pretend I don’ hear.”

  “That’s right,” Jessica said. “No matter what bad thoughts you hear from now on, just don’t listen. Think about something that makes you happy, like Alice in Wonderland. We don’t want anybody else to get hurt, do we? Remember what Mommy said: Hurting people is wrong.”

  “Hurting people is wrong,” Fana repeated, then she tugged on Jessica’s arm. “Mommy . . . we’re going back to the bees?”

  Jessica felt a shiver. She’d forgotten all about the bees, until now.

  “The bees will not hurt you, empress, just like before,” Teferi said gently, and in that instant Jessica was glad they were bringing this gentle giant with them. Somehow, it just felt right. For a few seconds, she forgot her nervousness about what difficulties they might face during their escape, and what disturbing vestiges of Fana’s dream might be waiting for them at home.

  33

  After an hour and a half of difficult uphill walking, clinging to jutting rocks to maintain their precarious footing, Teferi told them they were nearly outside. He’d chosen a rarely used route, where they would not be expected to go, that would take them away from their original entry point. It ended in a cavern well away from the churches. But this exit, too, was guarded by bees, Teferi said. As soon as he mentioned the bees, Jessica could hear their menacing droning somewhere above them.

  By now, Jessica was breathing so hard she was nearly gasping. Her hands felt raw from grappling with the rough rock-face of the cavern, and her calves and shins ached. It had been a long time since she had exerted herself this much physically, back in the days of normalcy when she had had a health-club membership and a designer jogging suit, and her body was now fighting her at every step. Immortal or not, she still had no talent for exercise, she realized.

  Teferi and David had been passing Fana between them as they walked, since both of them were also carrying packs of clothes and other hurriedly packed supplies. Jessica noted their silent synchronicity as they communicated in little more than g
runts, gently hoisting Fana back and forth as they made sure she didn’t bump her head on low-hanging rocks. Their motions were both efficient and loving, and for the first time in days Jessica felt convinced that her daughter was safe. The feeling was so deep it was primal, probably going back to cave dwellers who lived long ago, she thought.

  But Fana did not look as though she felt safe. She hadn’t cried since their journey began, but in the glow of the lights Teferi and David wore around their necks to illuminate their way, Jessica could see the whites of her daughter’s eyes gleaming wide in the semidarkness, and her head swiveled around nervously, watching and waiting. Fana was afraid.

  “Sweetie, did you hear Teferi? We’re almost out of here for good,” Jessica said. Lately she found herself constantly reminding Fana of words that had just been spoken, as if Fana were too disconnected from reality to follow their conversations. And she probably was, wasn’t she?

  Fana didn’t meet her mother’s eyes, but she shook her head as she gazed at Jessica from over Teferi’s shoulder.

  No we’re not, Mommy. He won’t let us go.

  Again, that strange, unspoken voice of Fana’s invaded Jessica’s head.

  “Honey, who—” Jessica began, but she didn’t finish the question. Teferi stopped walking abruptly, and Jessica nearly stumbled into his back. David, in the lead, had come to a halt, too. Jessica’s knees nearly gave way in a sudden clutch of fear. She didn’t dare speak.

  Finally, she heard David’s voice addressing someone she could not yet see, someone hidden around the next narrow bend, out of her sight: “Let us pass, brother.”

  The only answer was silence.

  • • •

  Dawit realized he should have known all along to expect Mahmoud to be waiting for him. After all, Mahmoud knew him better than anyone else who had ever breathed.

  Still, the sight of his brother sitting cross-legged on the cavern’s floor in the sweeping glow of light shining from the lantern against his breast filled him with a too familiar sadness. He and Mahmoud had lived this moment before, he remembered, when Mahmoud had surprised him by appearing at his home in Miami to tell him that he had to leave his family behind. That had been a hard day, full of conflicting emotions, his heart at war with itself. Then, as now, Mahmoud’s presence felt too cursory for the gravity of his purpose. In fact, it took a few seconds for Dawit to notice the gleam of the dark revolver his brother held in his lap. Dawit’s heart pounded.

  “That has always been too crude a weapon for you, Mahmoud,” Dawit said, motioning to Teferi that he should keep far behind him with Fana and Jessica. “It lacks honor.”

  Mahmoud shook his leonine mane of hair, which fell across his bare shoulders. Dawit knew that if he made any sudden movements or gave any instructions, he would find a bullet between his eyes. That was Mahmoud’s way, to be calm until provoked. Perhaps that was why he had become a Searcher; part of him had always relished a chase.

  “That may be true,” Mahmoud said. “But of all the mortal technologies, I believe the gun was always the purest. It’s not as pretty as your sword, Dawit, but it is more sure.” Slowly, Mahmoud raised himself to his feet, lifting the gun until it was aimed squarely at Dawit’s chest.

  Dawit’s heart drummed, but his mind was unaffected by his fear.

  Do not run, Teferi. We will all surely taste that gunfire if he sees you try to flee, Dawit thought, praying his brother could hear at least a few splinters of his thoughts. He cursed himself for not practicing his thought projection more diligently, but he was glad Mahmoud was as ignorant of thought language as he. Mahmoud could not hear another’s thoughts, he knew, but Teferi could. Stand where you are, and keep Jessica still. He could have shot me as soon as I appeared, but he did not. I can reason with him, but DO NOT RUN. Do you hear these words?

  Teferi didn’t speak, but Dawit felt him tug once at the back of his shirt, a signal.

  “We will awaken from a bullet’s sleep, Mahmoud,” Dawit said aloud.

  “Perhaps not, brother. I think you will be in too many pieces by then.”

  Pointless bravado, Dawit thought. No matter how angry Mahmoud was about the recent events at the colony, Dawit knew Mahmoud would never take joy in butchering his corpse. He knew his brother that well, he hoped. Still, he couldn’t ignore a sinking feeling in his stomach; he had faced many battles, but never with his wife and child behind him, vulnerable. He felt more hobbled by the presence of Jessica and Fana than even his lack of a weapon. He wore a knife in a sheath on his belt, but Mahmoud would never give him time to reach for it. If only he’d had the knife in his hand, ready! Mahmoud would have still shot him, certainly, but not without receiving a serious enough injury to prevent him from harming the others.

  Perhaps, he thought, it was time to appeal to Mahmoud’s heart.

  “Why, Mahmoud?” Dawit asked, his palms outward in a plaintive gesture to show his friend he was unarmed. “What do you gain? This goes against Khaldun’s wishes.”

  “Even Khaldun no longer knows Khaldun’s wishes,” Mahmoud said bitterly. “I failed before. I do not care to see what harm you will bring if I fail again.”

  “You are right in what you say,” Dawit said quickly. “Khaldun is confused, and now he is refusing to lead. The old ways are finished now, Mahmoud. So who will lead? Kaleb is gone, so perhaps you yourself must become our brothers’ leader. All of them will be watching you, looking for someone whose wits remain, and I believe they will listen to you. Berhanu will listen. Teka will listen. Is this the example you want to give? You begin the new day by spilling blood?”

  Dawit clearly saw Mahmoud’s expression soften. His eyes seemed to glisten. “Step aside, Dawit.” His voice was harder now.

  Mahmoud knew his brother’s meaning; he intended to shoot Fana. And Fana, he was certain, must know it, too. He could already hear Jessica cooing desperately to their daughter behind him, comforting her. He even noticed, for the first time, that the air in the tunnel felt thicker, more difficult to breathe; he also felt faint vibrating pulses that seemed to wash his back. The strange sensation made the hairs across his neck and back itch, and he had to use all of his self-control not to turn to see if some sort of unknown being was behind him. But he knew better. It was Fana, somehow. And the song of the bees ahead, which had been barely discernible before, had grown much louder, more fevered. The bees were moving closer to them.

  “Mahmoud, please,” Dawit said, suddenly feeling as if he was begging for his brother’s life instead of his own. “Do not be foolish. You know what she is.”

  “Of course I do! And you ask me why I must do this? Step aside!”

  “You know I cannot,” Dawit said. “I am her father. How can you even ask it?”

  “You said she was a stranger to you.”

  “I was wrong,” Dawit said, swallowing hard. “Do you remember what you asked me in my chamber? You asked if I loved them. You said, ‘If this wreckage is not for love, then it is for nothing at all.’ Trust me, Mahmoud—it is not for nothing. We are a family. We only want to leave. I’ve already lost one dear child because of you, Mahmoud. Please help me spare the soul of this other one. Do not force her to harm you.”

  Mahmoud looked uncertain, squinting toward Dawit. Then the arm holding the gun suddenly grew more rigid. “You think your daughter’s mind can work faster than a bullet?” Anyone who had not known Mahmoud as long would not have heard the nervousness beneath his words.

  “We do not know how fast she is,” Dawit said evenly. “But you will have to shoot me first—and I do think that by the time you squeeze that trigger once, it will be too late for you. It may be too late already. Please don’t pretend you don’t understand. Don’t you hear it?”

  How could Mahmoud ignore it? The bees’ humming sounded more like machinery, a coordinated howling, and it was filling up the tunnel, growing louder each instant. Dawit didn’t know how Fana was doing it, but she was bringing them. He remembered Teferi’s sudden nosebleed during the incident with Kal
eb, and he suddenly wondered if Fana would really be able to control the protective measures of her subconscious once the stinging creatures arrived.

  It was likely, he thought, that they were all about to be swallowed in an angry swarm.

  • • •

  Fana could hear the Bee Lady clear as day, just the way she’d heard her in her dream.

  Only she wasn’t dreaming, this time. She was not asleep and not awake. She was in one of her tranc-es, and she’d gone away all by herself because she was trying not to hear the man’s bad thoughts. Bad thoughts can’t hurt you, Mommy said, so Fana hoped she wouldn’t hear the bad thoughts if she went away, deep inside her head where no one could find her. She imagined she was burying herself in a hole, hiding from all the noise.

  Except that the Bee Lady had found her. And the Bee Lady said Mommy had lied.

  Fana could hear both of the voices in her head, the Bee Lady’s and her Mommy’s, both of them swirled together, confusing her. Mommy was trying to talk to her, to make her come back out of her hole, but the Bee Lady said she wanted her to stay and listen to her voice, which sometimes sounded like a regular person’s, and sometimes sounded like buzzing.

  You remember how that man threw that knife and cut off your mommy’s hand? Well, this man has something worse than a knife, Fana, and he wants to shoot you in the head—bang, bang. He wants to shoot all of you. What kind of bad little girl would let that happen? He thinks you’re weak, but you’re so much stronger, you could step on him like a beetle.

  “Fana?”

  That was Mommy’s voice, and it sounded much farther away than the Bee Lady’s, so Fana had to concentrate hard to hear it at all.

  “Sweetie, don’t you worry, all right? Let Daddy take care of it. Can you hear Daddy talking to the man? Everything will be fine. No one is going to hurt us, baby. Please come back, Fana. Don’t do this. You don’t have to do anything, hear? You don’t have to hurt anyone.”