Stones of Nairobi

by Vered Ehsani

  “Will the ladies be joining us?” he inquired, glancing at me but no doubt thinking of Lilly laboring in her room.

  “They have one and all refused to leave,” Father said, frowning.

  It spoke well of Lord Hardinge’s character that he readily accepted Father’s recommendation and our decision to remain behind. After a few more words, the two embraced as brothers would, and the Hardinge family departed shortly thereafter, taking with them Nurse Manton.

  Thus the house was cleared of all normal humans apart from Jonas and his daughter, neither one of whom I considered truly normal. To prove the point, Wanjiru had refused to go, insisting she wished to stay with Lilly and assist her.

  “Wanjiru is too brave,” Yao said with evident pride.

  Jonas merely snorted, evidently not at all impressed by his daughter’s valor or her suitor.

  Shortly thereafter, Dr. Ribeiro arrived and was urgently ushered into Lilly’s room. Yao fetched Miss Baxter, whom we locked up in a walk-in closet, and Shelby (as per Gideon’s insistence). The baby monkey clambered up the drapes and perched on the rod, hissing at Father. Drew remained in wolf form, pacing before the heavy curtains that concealed the doors leading to the veranda.

  As the sun continued its descent, we fortified the house as best we could, barricading doors and windows. Once done, we congregated in the library, all except Lilly, Wanjiru and the doctor. I studied the occupants and decided that this was the strangest menagerie of people one could imagine occupying a room together: a she-demon, a lightning god, a vampire, a Popobawa, an Adze, a werewolf, a ghost, a gardener and a witch (or whatever I was). Only Mr. Timmons, the energy thief, was missing, and my heart contracted at his absence.

  “So what’s the plan?” Tiberius asked.

  “Liongo won’t come alone, you know,” Koki said. “With Le-Eyo’s assistance, he may be leading an army from the Underworld. We’ll have to kill them all.”

  “And here I thought that we only die once,” I noted.

  “If you die well, once is all you need,” Father observed. “If one does not die well, a good opportunity is lost and will not present itself again.”

  Koki nodded in somber agreement while I peered at Father. “That’s jolly profound, not to mention poetic.”

  He shrugged. “Truth be told, I cannot take credit for that pithy advice, for it was penned by a certain José Rizal.”

  “Well, I don’t know about Mr. Rizal, but I have no intention of dying today, well or otherwise,” I chided them.

  “I’ll challenge my father,” Kam said, his gravelly voice interrupting the conversation on death and poetic quotes.

  “So you’re ready to die then?” Koki asked in a mocking tone. “I suppose you’ve lived long enough.”

  “I killed him once before,” Kam reminded her, unfazed by the suggestion of failure.

  “Only after you tricked him into drinking too much wine,” she retorted, sneering at Kam. “And if you lose, he will still come after us.”

  “Why would he do that?” I asked, miffed at the poet’s vindictiveness.

  “For the simple reason that we are all guilty by association,” she pointed out. “If it was only Kam’s life at stake, I’d have no issue at all with him going out alone. With no disrespect to Mr. Rizal, I agree with Miss Knight on the matter of living to see another dawn.”

  Kam’s eyes glittered as he met Koki’s glare with one of his own. “I didn’t bring him back to life,” he reminded everyone.

  “No,” Koki admitted to his implied accusation. “But you can assist us in reversing the situation. And while we’re on the topic, we may need some assistance from a certain energy thief.” She tilted her head toward me.

  “You mean the one sitting in a jail cell?” I asked. “He made it perfectly clear he didn’t want us liberating him. It would only complicate his legal case.”

  Koki smirked as Tiberius cleared his throat and said in a muted tone, “Beatrice, that was before we were under threat from a warrior with a grudge who might be leading an army of the undead.”

  Father nodded. “I’m sure Mr. Timmons would want to be here, Beatrice.”

  The tension in my shoulders dissipated at the thought of having my husband by my side. After all, why should we concern ourselves with the legal wrangling of a London court when we might all be dead by the morning?

  “He’ll need some assistance exiting the constabulary,” I said, unable to repress my smile.

  “Oh, Yao will go,” Yao offered, jumping up and down. “Send Yao, send Yao!”

  “Absolutely not,” I barked. “You’ve caused enough trouble today. And Koki, don’t even offer.”

  “I wasn’t going to,” Koki said.

  “Because I would prefer the Chief Constable to keep his head,” I continued, ignoring her interruption. “Father, the sun is still up, so you most certainly can’t.”

  I glanced at Tiberius, reluctant to request his assistance when Lilly was clearly in need of support. Then again, I didn’t know how much a man could do in matters concerning the delivery of babies. According to my aunt, Mrs. Steward, men were less than useless and were best left entirely out of the situation.

  “I’ll go,” Tiberius murmured, his fingers twitching at his side. “The doctor is here, and this little mission shouldn’t take long at all.”

  I didn’t ask if he was sure, for I could see he wasn’t. His words were more to convince himself than anyone else. Nodding my thanks, I turned to Jonas. “Take Nelly and meet Tiberius and Mr. Timmons on the outskirts of town, near the train station.”

  Jonas crossed his arms over his chest, scowling at the Persian carpet under his feet before shifting his unhappy stare to the zebra skin further down the room. “Why can’t he carry the bwana back in his claws, like he carried me before? Is the bwana afraid of flying?”

  “Mr. Timmons is a bit heavier than you,” Tiberius pointed out, a smile tugging at his lips. “It would be difficult to fly while carrying him, and speed is of the essence.”

  Grumbling to himself, Jonas stomped out of the room to fetch Nelly, while Tiberius departed via the veranda doors. The cracking of bones and the flapping of wings signaled the Popobawa’s transformation into his giant bat form. I sunk into a chair to wait, praying to whomever might be listening to bring my family back before Liongo arrived.

  Some minutes passed before my ears detected the sound of wooden wheels against stones.

  “Surely Liongo won’t arrive by carriage,” I said, suppressing the urge to laugh at the notion. Then again, that wouldn’t be the most ludicrous sight I’d ever witnessed.

  Father peered around the thick curtains, the sun no longer a threat as it was setting on the other side of the house. “It’s a rickshaw from the train station. Lord Hardinge didn’t mention he was expecting visitors. I believe it’s a young lady, European if my eyes don’t deceive me.”

  “I’ll send her on her way,” I said and, before the others could react, I snatched up a candle and left the room.

  I couldn’t imagine who would be arriving at such an hour, and of all evenings to do so, why this one? Hastening to the front door, I exited the house and stood in front of the doorway. The flickering flame of the candle cast a weak circle of light that only extended a few feet before being swallowed by the darkening dusk.

  The lady, her face obscured by a hat and the evening’s shadows, had just slipped out of the rickshaw. She turned her back to me in order to pay the African hauling the two-wheeled contraption. The man accepted her payment with a smile before tugging her two cases off the seat and carrying them over to me.

  “Excuse me,” I called out, abandoning any pretense of social niceties and manners for the sake of expediency and the woman’s safety. “The Hardinge family has departed, and I must request in the strongest terms that you follow their example. We’re expecting some… um, rather unpleasant weather at any minute.”

  “But I just arrived, and why should a bit of rain distract me from my purpose?” the wom
an said as she dismissed the man and lifted her chin to meet my troubled gaze.

  Something within me contracted painfully as I stared into the face of one I’d thought never to see again.

  “Well, have you nothing to say after all this time?” she asked as she strode toward me, a laugh bubbling up amongst her words, her round cheeks rosy, her dark blue eyes sparkling with delight. “I must say, Bee, you are an appalling letter writer. I’ve hardly received two sentences from you.”

  So saying, Cilla stepped into the circle of light and swept me into her embrace.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  HOW FUNNY A notion is time. It can slip through one’s day faster than water through a sieve. Or it can magnify a minute into an eternity. In that moment of reunion with my dearest friend, time was suspended. There was no night or day, no danger or fear, only the sense of arriving home after a torturous journey.

  As I gasped and gulped, attempting to summon back my command of the English language, Cilla giggled.

  “Cilla, you wonderful, marvelous girl, why have you returned?” I cried when once again I had control of my voice, and time had released me from that frozen moment.

  “Are you not pleased to see me?” she asked, her eyes bright with cheer and a mischievous twinkle that reminded me of her uncle and godfather, Mr. Timmons.

  “Immensely so,” I gushed. “You cannot fathom the depths of my distress at your absence.”

  “Oh, but I can, and very well at that,” she said. “And now, we need not feel dismayed, for I have returned and will not leave again, despite the weather.”

  “If it was any other night,” I moaned as I extracted myself from her grip.

  Cilla giggled, her gloved hands clinging to mine. “Beatrice, or should I say Mrs. Timmons, you really are a funny creature. Speaking of which, where is your husband?”

  “In prison,” I blurted out and winced at Cilla’s stunned silence. “I’m sorry. My manners have not improved in the least, as you can readily discern. I’ll explain everything, but you cannot stay here, not tonight.”

  “Why ever not?” she demanded, her cheer not fading in the least, despite the news of her uncle’s imprisonment and the inhospitable reception I was providing. “That my uncle is incarcerated is hardly surprising. I’m more astounded we’ve lasted this long without him being arrested or a charge being leveled against him. Of course, I credit that miracle wholly to your influence, my dearest friend. But I must say I expected more from you. I’ve had a long trip, you know.”

  “I fear tonight will be even longer,” I said, sighing as I glanced into the deepening darkness. “Well, there’s nothing to be done now. Come in and we’ll make do as best we can.”

  So saying, we dragged her cases into the entrance, and I barred the door shut.

  “What’s going on, Bee?” Cilla asked, her voice more restrained. “Where is everyone? Is Drew here?”

  “Drew!” I turned to her, the candle fluttering between us, its flame as unsteady as my breathing. “But I thought… That is to say, he believes…”

  I paused, took a deep breath and began anew. “Well, we all gathered that you were engaged to another.”

  “And then I received his telegram,” she gushed as she peeled off her gloves. “It was a life-altering piece of paper. And of course I set out immediately for here.”

  “But your letter,” I said, aghast.

  “Oh, that,” She blushed. “I dispatched that letter long before I heard from Drew. To be honest, the matter slipped my mind, especially when my parents learned that I’d canceled the engagement and booked passage to return. You can’t imagine the uproar my actions created. I didn’t connect the impression I… Why, Beatrice, whatever is the matter?”

  Leaning against the wall for support, I whispered, “He read it. Drew read your letter.”

  The rosy blush drained from Cilla’s plump cheeks. “He didn’t,” she breathed out. “Did he? Are you sure?”

  “Yes, very.”

  Her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ as the implications became clear to her. “What must he think?”

  “That you changed your mind,” I replied, closing my eyes. “His hopes, raised by your correspondence via telegrams, were dashed by that cursed letter. Why, oh why, did Gideon direct him to my writing desk? Why didn’t I lock my letters away? Why didn’t you alert me to this dramatic change in circumstances?”

  A small hand on my arm caused my eyelids to flutter open. Her expression strained, Cilla forced a smile. “You mustn’t be harsh on yourself, dear Bee, for I take the blame entirely. It was thoughtless of me not to send you a message to correct…”

  She shook her head. “Fear not. We shall clear up the matter immediately, if not sooner, and all will be well with the world. You’ll see.”

  Suppressing a sob, I clutched her to me with one arm around her shoulders. “How I’ve missed your eternal optimism. When all is doom and gloom, you come forth like a ray of sun through the storm clouds.”

  Giggling, she gazed at me. “Surely you exaggerate the gravity of the situation. It is a mere comedy of errors, a crossing of words that will be clarified by a few sentences on my part.”

  Gripping her hand in mine, I said, “You don’t know the half of what is occurring this night.” As I led her back to Father’s library, I provided her the briefest of descriptions of the events, ending with the battle for which we were preparing.

  “You have been busy, haven’t you,” she said as we entered the room where the others were discussing strategies. “And there I was in London, imagining you had settled into a quiet domesticity.”

  I snorted at the notion of any aspect of my life being quiet or domesticated.

  “And what’s she doing here?” Cilla shrieked, her eyes widening until I thought they might pop out of her head.

  Koki laughed, not at all fazed by Cilla’s dismay, and turned her back to us to continue her conversation with Father. For his part, Father stared at Cilla, a smile brightening his features.

  “Would you believe she’s assisting us,” I said, my own incredulousness evident in my tone.

  “Strange times indeed,” Cilla said, before clapping her hands together once. “Drew, my darling Drew.”

  Thus summoned, the large gray wolf slunk to the middle of the room, his head low to the ground, his ears flat against his head, his golden eyes glimmering in the candlelight as he stared at Cilla.

  Sinking to her knees, her skirt flared around her, Cilla clasped her hands over her heart. “It was all a dreadful misunderstanding, my love. That letter was written long before I received your telegram and sent you my own in response. Please do forgive me.”

  Whining, the wolf padded closer.

  “I won’t leave again,” Cilla whispered, wiping at the tears beading in her eyes. “I promise.”

  Barking once, Drew bounded into Cilla’s arms, his body quivering, his tail wagging.

  “And this is why you smell like a dog,” I told my friend, a smile stretched across my face.

  “What the hell is she doing here?” a gruff voice demanded behind me.

  Shocked at the coarse language, I turned around, preparing to chastise whoever had dared speak thus. Upon recognizing the angry figure in the doorway as my recently liberated and currently incensed husband, I hurled myself at Mr. Timmons, wrapping my arms around his neck.

  “You’re here. You’re free,” I breathed into his neck. “How marvelous. How I’ve missed you.”

  Softening under my embrace, he clutched me to his chest, his hands stroking my back. “I should go to jail more often, if this is the reception I’m provided.”

  Staring into his eyes, I laughed, the apprehensions of the evening all forgotten for a moment. “That can be arranged.”

  Jonas clumped into the room behind Mr. Timmons. “Huh,” he grunted upon seeing Cilla hugging a werewolf.

  Tiberius flew onto the veranda just then. Once he’d returned to his human form, he had a more eloquent response. “Miss White, what a deli
ght to have you home again,” he said, his smile in contrast to Mr. Timmons’ frown.

  “It isn’t a delight,” Mr. Timmons snapped. “It’s an inconvenience and a liability. We’re about to go into battle, and now—”

  “Simon,” I hissed as I observed Cilla’s mouth quiver with barely repressed tears.

  “Men are so provoking,” Koki purred. She snickered at Mr. Timmons’ dark glare before gesturing to Father. “This delightful gentleman is one of the few exceptions. Really, Miss Knight, you must do a better job training that husband of yours.”

  Before Mr. Timmons could retaliate, I placed a hand on his cheek to gain his attention and continued in a more conciliatory tone. “How was Cilla to know what was transpiring here? She departed England at least three weeks ago. It’s unfortunate timing, but there’s no need to belabor the point. We can’t send her away now. It’s too late.”

  Growling in frustration, Mr. Timmons pushed a hand through his tangled hair. Exhaling sharply, he entered the room and kneeled beside Cilla. Placing an arm around her shivering shoulders, he kissed her forehead and murmured, “Welcome home, my sweet Cilla. Forgive me, for I have missed you terribly.”

  Before anyone could comment further on Cilla’s unannounced arrival, a cry pierced the air.

  “Lilly,” Tiberius gasped, a strange pallor descending across his brown skin, his face strained and his hands trembling.

  “We’ll see to her,” I said as I grabbed Cilla’s arm and dragged her up. “Shelby, stop hissing at the vampires and come at once.”

  The monkey bounded across the room and leaped onto my shoulder, screeching at Father and Yao on the way. Drew rose and began to follow us. I pushed Cilla ahead of me and in a stern voice said, “Wait here, Drew.” Closing the door in the face of the whining wolf, I spun about and grasped Cilla’s hand in my human one. “Come along, Cilla.”

  We arrived at Lilly’s room just as she cried again. Unsure how useful we could be, nonetheless I hastened to her bedside with Cilla at my heels, depositing the baby monkey on a bookshelf. Dr. Ribeiro and Wanjiru sat nearby, unconcerned by the spectacle before them.