A Spider Comes Calling

by Vered Ehsani

  “ARE WE THERE yet?” Yao asked for the umpteenth time.

  While I sympathized with the sentiment, I couldn’t very well give vent to my own fatigue, for then I’d surely be tempted to collapse until someone fetched me a pot of tea. Given the dearth of civilization in the Underworld, I doubted I’d ever encounter a pot of anything and thus I would remain prone on the ground, incapable of further movement. The very thought of it was deplorable, and I marveled how Africans had survived so long without the resuscitating powers of tea. That, I was convinced, was possibly the one and only uplifting contribution that Europeans had provided to the natives.

  My mental ramblings only confirmed the depth of my exhaustion. “Do the dead need to eat?” I asked although I felt no hunger.

  Koki’s smile was both appealing and disconcerting. “Of course. But I don’t think you would appreciate the diet.”

  Before I could summon wit to respond, the wolf perked up its ears and sniffed the air. This inspired an increased attentiveness on my part which allowed me to discern a soft crying.

  “Do you hear that?” Yao asked, even though it was blatantly obvious that indeed, we were all listening, our strides having slowed accordingly.

  “Maybe it’s Wanjiru,” Jonas said, the hope in his voice a painful reminder of our current mission. “Wanjiru!” he shouted and ran ahead.

  “Wait, Jonas. Come back at once,” I ordered but, not surprisingly, my employee paid me little heed; he seldom did. Reluctant as I was to run into an unknown situation, I increased my pace and caught up with him just as the path ended at the shores of a lake.

  Spread before us was a stretch of beach covered with blindingly white, silky soft sand. Beyond the sand was an expanse of water that seemed to have no end, or else the opposite shore was lost in the mist that blurred the horizon.

  “The Lake of Tears,” Koki announced.

  Yao grimaced and shivered. “Ew. Water.”

  I was on the verge of inquiring about the name when I glimpsed a feminine form kneeling at the water’s edge, shoulders shaking. Garbed in a simple, dark blue dress I recognized from Lady Hardinge’s house, the woman sobbed, her tears splashing into the lake in a steady stream.

  “Wanjiru,” Jonas cried and darted forward, his bare feet flipping up sand in his wake.

  “It could be a trap,” I warned to no avail. Hoping I was wrong, I hurried across the beach, my boots not as agile on the loose sand as Jonas’ feet. I was further hindered by my skirt and the wolf which leaped about me, barking playfully.

  “Get down, you rascal,” I scolded it which, in some absurd way, resulted in me scolding a part of myself.

  “Baba?” the crying woman asked. “Baba!”

  As I approached them, the maid I knew as Esther jumped up and into Jonas’ embrace. I altered my path to give them privacy. After all, Jonas was seeing his daughter for the first time in a while.

  I joined the others and peered over to observe the tender reunion. Jonas stepped back to gaze upon his daughter, his countenance radiant. Esther — Wanjiru — began to chat with great animation, her hands fluttering around like butterflies freed from their cocoons. Their happy words tumbled over each other as they attempted to recover the time they’d lost. While I couldn’t understand their language, somehow I could understand the conversation, for hadn’t I had a similar experience recently upon learning that Mr. Elkhart Senior was in fact my biological father?

  Resolving to allow them a few more moments before interrupting them, I studied the lake before us, the color of which perfectly mirrored the bright blue of the sky. Realizing Yao was not with us, I glanced around until I spotted him by the jungle’s edge. His horror and suspicion of water seemed momentarily forgotten as he gazed at Wanjiru, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly agape.

  Shaking my head at his star-struck appearance, I remarked to the others, “That was fairly straightforward.”

  Koki’s laugh was rich and deep. “We aren’t home yet, girl.”

  “Miss Knight,” Jonas called to me as he guided his daughter toward us. “We have found my daughter. Wanjiru, this is Miss Knight, a great lady despite being one of the People of the Fog.”

  “Why, thank you, Jonas,” I said, my eyes narrowing slightly, certain he’d insulted me while praising me.

  At the mention of the term used by some of the tribes to describe white Europeans, Wanjiru became silent. When I stepped toward her, she bowed her head, her hands hanging by her side and clenching the dress, her previous liveliness stilled. “Good day, madam,” she murmured.

  Before I could reassure her that such formality was entirely unnecessary and uncomfortable, the still surface of the lake shivered as a ripple flowed out from a point about a stone’s throw from us.

  Koki settled one hand on her hip and gestured with the other. “It seems our presence has been noted.”

  From the jungle, Yao called to us, “Something’s in the water. Nothing good comes from water. We should really go home now.”

  None of us disagreed but before we could turn, more ripples joined the first. Small waves of tears lapped at our feet. The Africans stepped away with varying expressions of disgust. The wolf growled.

  “Indeed, I find that to be a remarkably sound suggestion, Yao,” I said and marched toward the jungle as rapidly as I could manage on the soft sand. The others, all barefoot, overtook me but none of us reached the trees before something surged out of the waters behind us. Waves splashed high up on the beach, wetting my boots, and I could only hope that tear salt wouldn’t stain the leather.

  “Wanjiru!”

  The force of the bellow reverberated through my chest. I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder. A tall African floated above the waves, his brown skin and eyes glowing with a golden sheen. His hair hung past his shoulders in countless braids stained with a red clay dye. Wrapped around his waist was a black-and-red checkered blanket; flung over his shoulders was the pelt of a lion, the head of which covered the man’s. While he wasn’t as finely proportioned as Yao or as muscled as Kam, he was nonetheless an impressive enough specimen of masculinity to be worthy of some attention. Yet the sulk of his lips reminded me of a spoiled child, and the sharpness of his tall spear reminded me that I had no weapon.

  “Come back, Wanjiru,” he commanded, his gaze fixed on the young woman who was standing beside Jonas, shivering with what emotions I could only imagine.

  “Greetings, Le-Eyo,” Koki said as if welcoming a guest to a party, unconcerned by the golden tip of the spear or the hostility emanating from the man’s eyes.

  The God of Death sniffed and his full lips twitched. “Insects. I despise insects.”

  “I think he means you,” Yao said to Koki. “Can we go now?”

  “No!” thundered Le-Eyo. “Wanjiru is mine.”

  “Her father begs to differ,” I said, stepping forward and in front of Wanjiru while gesturing behind my back for her to enter the path. A small scuffle ensued, and I gathered from the urgent whispers that Yao was attempting to escort Wanjiru away from the beach.

  “Dowry was provided. An agreement was made,” Le-Eyo argued. “The law is the law.”

  “The rains never came,” Koki countered as she tilted her hips to one side and studied the nails of one hand.

  It was a credit to the god that he wasn’t the least distracted or impressed by Koki’s appearance. “They came to the village for one night. The agreement did not stipulate how much rain there should be.”

  “A stickler for legal details,” I murmured and raised my voice. “Well, sir—”

  “Who is this female?” Le-Eyo interrupted, waving at me while addressing Koki.

  “How rude of me,” Koki purred, her narrowed eyes anything but contrite. “This is Miss Knight.”

  “Mrs. Knight,” Jonas added.

  “Actually, it’s Mrs. Timmons,” I corrected them, for I wasn’t at all happy with the manner in which Le-Eyo was gazing at me as he strolled across the lake.

  “Which is it?” he
demanded and licked his lips.

  “Mrs. Timmons,” I stated firmly for the record. “I’m married. Very much and happily so.”

  By this time, Le-Eyo had reached the sand and he hefted his spear as if contemplating who to skewer first.

  “I assume you’ve made an arrangement with Wanjiru’s employers?” I asked, more to distract him than anything else.

  His eyes widened and he paused. “What employer?”

  “Well, you surely are aware that she is contracted to Lord and Lady Hardinge,” I said, silently begging forgiveness for the fib I was about to create, “and according to our laws, she can’t break the employment contract if she doesn’t have permission from the Hardinge family to do so.” I paused and added, “Which of course she does not have.”

  This revelation threw him into an agony of ill-humor, for he flung down his spear, tip first, into the sand where it hummed with the force of the throw. His lower lip jutted out as he paced before us.

  Bemused that a god would care about such trifling details as labor laws, I continued, “I realize this is a grave vexation. Surely, a man—”

  “God,” he said as he flung an arm upward while continuing to pace.

  “Forgive me,” I said. “Surely, a god as notable as yourself has an abundance of ladies desiring his attention.”

  At this comment, he seemed gratified, for he halted his pacing and bestowed on me a smile of condescension. Thus encouraged, I continued, “As such, you needn’t resort to abduction in order to procure a wife.”

  He glared at me. “I do not abduct people. I negotiated with the village elders. Accordingly, she is mine.” Swiveling his head this way and that, he demanded, “Where is she?”

  “Well, what do you know?” I said, glancing at the sky. “It’s well past tea time and we really must be going.”

  Koki smirked, Jonas groaned and Le-Eyo snatched up his spear and aimed it at my head. “Where is she?” he roared.

  My wolf, having restrained itself throughout the altercation, growled and flung itself at the god. The speed with which it attacked allowed it to latch onto Le-Eyo’s neck before he could react; both wolf and god fell to the sand, struggling for dominance.

  “And now, I believe we can leave,” Koki said with a mildness which was not in the least altered by the scuffle before us.

  I began to protest — for it was my energy we were abandoning — but Koki grabbed my hand in hers and hauled me forcibly off the beach with Jonas immediately behind us. The wolf’s howl pierced me to my core. I wrenched my hand free to face the beach. Le-Eyo was kneeling, one hand gripped around the wolf’s throat, pushing it against the sand, while the other hand raised a knife. Refusing to surrender, the wolf continued its howling and thrashing.

  Before I could commit myself to a course of action that was probably both foolhardy and fatal, a shadow fell across the scene, accompanied by the beating of large wings. Churned up by the breeze thus created, bits of sand twirled around us as the Sasabonsam landed on the beach.

  Chapter 29

  THE GIANT VAMPIRE’S bat wings continued to flutter agitatedly as the Sasabonsam wrestled the knife away. Astonishment caused Le-Eyo to release the wolf which trotted toward me at my beckoning. Meanwhile, the vampire, equally satisfied as to the safety of his pet and the removal of the knife, turned his vengeful attention onto the God of Death. While I’d previously assumed that a god, particularly the God of Death, would have no need to fear mortality, the expression on Le-Eyo’s face disabused me of that quaint notion.

  “Now shall we depart, Miss Knight?” Koki murmured in my ear, unflustered by the upheaval before us.

  Having reassured myself that my wolf would survive to fight again, I agreed with this appealing course of action. We hastened to follow Yao and Wanjiru, both of whom had succeeded in putting a reasonable distance between themselves and the beach.

  “Won’t Le-Eyo chase us?” I asked as Jonas inserted himself between Yao and his daughter.

  “I believe he’ll be sufficiently occupied for the time being, as will my unwanted suitor,” Koki said. Smirking, she added, “The Sasabonsam seems to have acquired a liking for your wolf, Miss Knight.”

  “The Sasabonsam, they aren’t very bright, are they?” Jonas asked, scowling at Yao’s attempts to attract Wanjiru’s attention.

  “Not particularly,” Koki conceded. “Like most vampires.”

  “Hey!” Yao protested.

  Koki continued without pause. “The Sasabonsam are particularly noteworthy in their limited intellect. That, combined with their visibility, is possibly why they aren’t very numerous.”

  “Yao is not like most vampires,” Yao grumbled, pouting at Jonas who bestowed a triumphant grin in response.

  The combination of humid heat, the emotions stirred from the adventures of the day and the implacable pace that Koki insisted we maintain soon drained us of any humor remaining. Only the wolf seemed unfazed and trotted ahead of us, free of the fatigue that clung to my limbs.

  No further abductions occurred for which I was immensely grateful; rescuing people was tiresome, to say the least. In weary silence, we entered the clearing and stared across at the footbridge hovering over the dark river and connecting the Underworld to the World of Shadows. The only sound was our feet slapping against the ground and Yao’s muted mutterings about the evils of water.

  As we approached the bridge, Jonas commented, in response to Yao’s hydrophobia, “Cross that bridge, Adze, and you’ll have your old body back.”

  “Oh, joy! A real body,” Yao sighed. “Nasty water.”

  Jonas’ snide remark inspired in me another concern, and I turned to Koki. “All of our bodies are sleeping in the Hardinge’s mansion except for Wanjiru’s. She’s in her original body. How will she bring it into the World of Shadows?”

  Not in the least perturbed by the implication, Koki replied, “She won’t. You will have to focus on carrying all her energy with you.”

  “Will that work?” Jonas asked, his doubt echoing my own.

  Shrugging, Koki said, “Possibly. And if not, Wanjiru will remain here for all of eternity or die in the attempt.”

  At our cries of protest, she waved a hand in dismissal of our concerns. “This is the only way out from here. Of course, Miss Knight could utilize her substantial charms and persuade Le-Eyo to carry Wanjiru home for us.”

  Both Jonas and Yao issued disparaging noises at the notion and then pretended not to notice my offended expression.

  “Precisely,” Koki said. “However, while her powers of feminine wiles are lacking, I have some confidence in Miss Knight’s other abilities. And if she fails, then we know she’s not yet ready to assist us with Liongo.”

  “We should have left you in that cage,” Jonas grumbled.

  Her eyes narrowed, Koki lifted a hand to either slap or decapitate him. Before she could do either, a crashing sound behind us caused us to shift our attention to the jungle.

  “Wanjiru!” Le-Eyo’s shout echoed from within the trees.

  “A persistent suitor,” Koki remarked. “Are you certain you won’t consent?”

  In response, Jonas grabbed Wanjiru’s hand and urged her onto the bridge, the wooden planks creaking beneath them. With considerably less alacrity, Yao followed them, his eyes squeezed nearly shut and his mouth set in a pained grimace.

  “Shall we?” Koki asked. “They will need your assistance to cross the barrier. The land of the dead isn’t an easy place to leave.”

  “Normally I’d say that’s a jolly good thing,” I said.

  Fatigued beyond endurance, I stumbled onto the bridge, the wolf and the she-demon immediately behind me. Several strides brought me within reach of the others who were prevented from proceeding by an opaque and impenetrable film that cut across the bridge at the half-way mark.

  “Haraka, Miss Knight,” Jonas said as he positioned himself between his daughter and the jungle.

  “Yes, hurry,” Yao said. “Yao wants his body back, not this horrible, scra
tchy thing.”

  “You mean scrawny,” I corrected him as I pushed past Jonas. “Not scratchy.”

  “Scrawny, yes. And scratchy also,” he said with great earnestness. “It’s scratchy all over, but especially…”

  “That’s quite enough,” I interrupted him, holding my hands up and closing my eyes.

  “Let her focus, little Adze,” Koki added as she joined us. “Nobody wants to hear about your hygiene issues.”

  I was unclear what I should focus on for I couldn’t recall having any difficulties on the way into the Underworld; certainly, I hadn’t put forth any specific effort. Yet now there seemed a blockage. Before I could do much apart from rub my temples and hope for inspiration, a loud snap like that of a tree breaking in half distracted me further.

  “Wanjiru, return!” Le-Eyo bellowed as he broke through the tree-line and entered the clearing. The cape’s lion head bobbed behind his own and his red-stained braids created a fearsome image. He raised his spear above his head as if preparing to toss it.

  “Be careful,” Koki called out, a manic grin revealing strong, white teeth. “You wouldn’t want to hit your beloved.” Thus saying, she grabbed Wanjiru and held the girl like a shield.

  Yao, Le-Eyo and Jonas howled in communal outrage, while the wolf just howled. I was still struggling to decide on what to place my attention. The noisiness of Death was exasperating, not to mention distracting.

  “Do you mind?” I snapped. “I can’t very well concentrate with all this racket.”

  “Leave me behind,” Wanjiru said, divining before I did the source of the blockage. “It will be easier to escape without me.”

  “How very noble,” Koki said as Le-Eyo marched toward the bridge, “but I take issue with forced marriages.”

  I glanced at Jonas; his features were pinched with the agony induced by the prospect of another separation from his child. Gritting my teeth, I breathed deeply, clearing my mind as best I could given the commotion around me.

  “Yao will never leave you,” the Adze professed his commitment with great fervor. “Even if he has to cross a thousand bridges over a thousand foul, watery rivers.”