by Karen Prince
The Tokoloshe, Ethan was relieved to see, had cornered the tiger. Led by Grandma Wanyika, they surrounded the cat, arrows nocked. He hoped they would remember how little effect their sleeping potion had had on the lions. The tiger’s fur would probably be even harder to penetrate.
“You!” Grandma Wanyika rounded furiously on the tiger. “I have been meaning to have a talk with you!” She kicked him in the foot.
“Er... don’t touch the tiger, Grandma,” Lewa said. “Don’t forget he can jump you if you touch him.”
“Don’t be foolish!” she shot over her shoulder, and then fixed her little raisin eyes firmly on the cat. “Why would he want to jump into this tired old body? Too bloody painful for a start, what with the corns and the gout!”
“I’m only trying to help, dear lady,” said the tiger in a reasonable voice, laced with just a hint of menace ready to bubble to the surface without warning. “I would be a much better leader than Galal, if only I had his body. Look at the man. He can hardly pull himself away from his bao game long enough to attend to his own family, let alone the kingdom.”
Grandma Wanyika’s expression softened. Ethan guessed she liked being called “dear lady”.
“His heir is obsessed with risk taking,” the tiger went on, stopping momentarily to stab an unsheathed claw in the direction of Kitoko for emphasis, “but does not have the courage to participate himself, choosing instead to witness an endless stream of hapless attendants risk their lives in increasingly impossible tasks. And why not,” he went on disdainfully. “No one stops the revolting youth, for fear of upsetting Galal.” He came to rest before Galal, and spoke through gritted teeth. “Whose daughter is running amok in the valley as we speak, playing the deadly game this bone-headed youth set up.”
Judging by Galal’s sharp intake of breath, and sudden movement towards the door, he had not known that his own daughter was involved. “Nandi!” he gasped.
“And as for the rest of you!” the tiger said, contemptuously swiping Galal back towards the others with one giant paw, and glowering at the remaining Almohad. “You sit here in your comfortable towers overlooking the decedents of the people who built them. You know how terrible it is down there. You have the strength and the means to make a difference, but you don’t. You are supposed to be the keepers of the kingdoms. When last did any of you go across the river and see what is going on?”
“I go shopping there all the time,” Praxades said, pushing out her lower lip. Ethan stared at her in wonder. He had never met anyone with so little sense of self-preservation in his life. She just did not know when to shut up.
“Coercing market vendors to give you their goods for nothing is not shopping, Praxades,” the tiger growled.
“The kingdoms are not our problem!” Galal said. “If they choose to follow that mad king Ulujimi...” His eyes shot back and forth between the tiger and the doorway.
“And speaking of irresponsible!” Gogo Maya interrupted him to round on the tiger. “You tried to get Morathi’s gang to get rid of me! And who knows what else you had those stupid Tokoloshe do for you.” She turned towards Grandma Wanyika. “No offense, Grandma,” she added.
“Oh, none taken, dearie.” Grandma Wanyika eyed her tribe ruefully. “One or two of my own clan are a bit stupid.”
Galal sank down on a divan and put his head in his hands, anxiety for his daughter finally getting the better of him, but not quite enough for him to make a dash for the door. He seemed prepared to leave the problem of the tiger to the old women to sort out.
Ethan did not know what he was supposed to do. They hadn’t discussed their plan beyond identifying the jumper. He had assumed they would capture it. It was beginning to dawn on him that they’d been planning to kill it. Unfortunately, the tiger seemed to have a point.
“The tiger kills!” Salih said into Ethan’s head.
“The tiger has a point,” Ethan hissed back at Salih.
“But Galal can change,” Salih said.
The tiger paced back and forth along the balcony, not exactly angry but still three metres of pent up danger, with canines longer than Ethan’s fingers. He stopped in front of Galal. “I’d have been prepared to put up with your indolence, even Kitoko’s spite till the strange boy, Joe, had grown into a man,” he said, “but under the influence of Kitoko he would never have lasted that long.”
“He was planning to jump Joe at some point!” Ethan blurted out, feeling a lot less tolerant suddenly.
The tiger turned his menacing attention on him. Ethan’s eyes searched wildly for Lewa. Hunting the jumper was all very well till you caught him, he thought. What on earth could he do? Lewa had her eyes screwed shut in concentration, probably trying to deflect the tiger’s focus, but she wasn’t getting anywhere. The tiger continued to advance on Ethan whose stomach lurched as he realised it was going to be up to him. Screwing his own eyes shut, Ethan searched frantically for an idea. He searched for the tiger’s nerve endings, hoping to channel the impression of pain as he had done to Kitoko, but his knowledge of tiger anatomy was non-existent compared with his knowledge of the human nervous system. He had studied that in school.
What if he stabbed himself and projected the pain onto the tiger as he had done with Fisi? Tariro had been right. It would hurt at first but he could heal himself afterwards. Unfortunately, the swordsman had picked up his sword, and there was nothing else sharp enough nearby. Ethan reached desperately for some sort of pain memory to project at the cat. A scorpion bite!
Ethan peeped out of the slits of his eyes at the tiger who was sitting down in front of him, drumming his four-inch claws on the marble floor, waiting politely for Ethan to be done.
Ethan dug deeper. He searched out every flea, louse and intestinal parasite he could find living on the cat. There was a tapeworm. He knew it. Feel the pain, he projected desperately at the vermin. Go mad. Bite him.
It seemed to make no difference.
Then, amazingly, the tiger began to twitch and scratch. Ethan was getting through!
But the tiger laughed. “Okay, you got me there, boy, that hurts. Oof... especially the thing in the stomach. Gives new meaning to the words ‘gut wrenching’, but you can stop now. There is nothing that you or the silly girl can do to destroy me. And I have no wish to occupy your body, any more than I wish to occupy the pain ridden old crone or any of her irritating clan.”
Grandma Wanyika puffed herself up and shook her stick at him indignantly. “I’ll have you know...”
“Who could do with a bit of watching themselves, I might add.” The tiger turned and glared right back at her. “At least one has fallen off the balcony, and several have wandered off. Probably plundering the palace as we speak.” He stalked over to the Almohad.
“Since my carefully laid plan hinged on taking over Galal without alerting his people, there is no longer any point in having him. I guess my work here is done. You people can go back to your selfish, irresponsible ways. So, I’ll be off then.” He stalked towards the edge of the balcony.
“Is that it?” Praxades shrieked, hands on hips. She turned on Ethan. “Are you going to let him get away? What about the killing? He will surely have to kill someone when his tiger body expires. And what if he comes back as something else? We won’t know him.”
All true, Ethan guessed, but as the tiger had just said, there was nothing he could do about it. Someone really needed to gag that girl.
The tiger leaped back into the room, all sleek, writhing muscles. He pressed his face up to Praxades’ and said in a low growl, “What I do is no worse than having people kill themselves for your entertainment, Praxades.”
She pushed away from him frantically, but still with a truculent set to her mouth.
“Yes, I could jump you any time I want, young lady, and not a thing you could do about it. I have a good mind to stay, just to keep you on your toes,” said the tiger.
“And by the way, Kitoko.” He rounded on Kitoko, who made an ineffectual grab for his sword. “Tho
se captives you are holding – if I don’t see them cross the river in, let’s say... three days, I’ll be back.”
He turned to go again, this time dipping his head towards Grandma Wanyika. “Grandma, it has been a pleasure,” he purred. “Hold less ceremonial parties. It will ease the gout.”
“Gogo... humble apologies,” he said to Gogo Maya. “A bit heavy handed in the forest, there. Nothing personal, you understand. Bigger picture and all that.” Gogo Maya gave him a withering look.
“Young witch.” He turned towards Lewa and smiled. “Don’t be disappointed. As impressive as your array of tricks is, there is nothing... nothing at all... I had been around thousands of years before you were even born. Do you think I would be thwarted by a slip of a girl?”
He paused in front of Ethan and patted him gently on the head. “Young man, go and help your friend. And do something about that hair!” He snatched his paw away suddenly as if something had bitten him.
Ethan turned towards a soft whump-whump sound descending out of the sky. The lower clouds twisted and boiled as if something passed through them and then it came hurtling towards the balcony. The tiger almost collided with a creature, the size of an elephant, which came in to land awkwardly, crushing the stone balcony railing as it went.
“Evening,” the tiger said to it with the arrogance of the all powerful, and, without breaking his stride, slunk off the balcony onto a ledge to make his way down the escarpment into the valley below.
The ugliest dragon imaginable scrabbled for footing on the edge of the balcony as awkward as a grounded albatross. He looked nothing like the sinuous snake like dragon with the flame-shaped, petrified stone horns, and the scalloped medieval-knight-like scales of Darwishi or Amun’s imagination. He had a plump, grey, leathery-looking body like a rhinoceros, a longish neck and a face more like a warthog than a dragon, with one huge tooth poking out of the middle of his mouth, and a blob on the end of his long tail, that flailed wildly from side to side as he tried to regain his balance.
“Consequences!” Salih hissed in a flat voice.
Everyone else stood, frozen in terror.
30
Tough Decisions
“Quickly!” Azikiwe said. “You and you, put your hands like this!” He made a stirrup of his hands to demonstrate. “Now you and you!” He nodded at Elymu and Faraji. They lifted Nandi’s limp body and set off at an incredible pace through the bush. Joe ran after as fast as he could, but he could not keep up.
“She stepped in front of me!” he groaned. The buffalo cow had tossed her in the air, slicing her thigh open from knee to groin. That much he had seen before they had whisked her away.
He knew he should be on the lookout for stray buffalo – even that same buffalo – or angry lions, but he didn’t care. He ran blindly after the bearers till he reached the city. They were at the top of the steps by the time he reached the bottom, and they appeared to have put her down. A large crowd gathered around her. He hoped one of them was the healer. He sat down on the step for a moment, his head swimming with shock and fatigue.
One young man peeled away from the crowd and ran down the stairs towards him. He was one of the darker ones, with rat’s tails of paraphernalia hanging from his hair and the board-shorts Joe had left behind at the vicious girl’s village. A man, who looked like a relative of that vicious Mesande, came down behind him.
“Oh, no! They’ve found me, even here!” Joe groaned. Then he saw Jimoh... unmistakably Jimoh. Same hat, same walk. But improbably dressed in a skirt of brightly coloured material covered over with animal tails. He had camouflage fatigues poking out from underneath. Joe’s relief at finding his friend was gone in a flash, as the boy did not come towards him, even though he had clearly seen Joe. Instead, he ran away, further up the stairs. Joe felt like crying. Had he imagined it? Had they captured Jimoh too, and he was just following orders?
But then, amazingly, as the other two young men came closer, he recognised the one in the board-shorts as Tariro.
“What the hell are you wearing?” Tariro laughed, launching himself at Joe and holding him tightly. “We thought we were too late!”
Joe disengaged himself to look down at the hyena pelt he still wore and then back up at Tariro’s appalling hairstyle. “You don’t look so normal yourself!” he said.
Catching the eye of the young man behind Tariro who looked like Mesande, Joe backed away.
“It’s okay, this is Fisi,” Tariro said, putting an arm around the young man’s shoulder. “He came to help rescue you. Although the whole thing has gone to pot... the jumper turned out to be the tiger. Ethan’s in there now, with some witches, trying to sort it all out. But I have to say, man, the kid is out of his depth this time!”
“I have to get to Nandi, Tariro, she is badly hurt,” Joe said, starting up the steps. “And wasn’t that Jimoh I saw? What’s with him? He looked me right in the eye and ran off.”
“Oh, don’t mind Jimoh, he has gone to fetch Ethan for the injured girl. He seems to think Ethan can fix that too.” He stared incredulously at Joe. “Man, thank goodness you are alive. Have I got a story for you!”
“What do you mean the jumper is the tiger?” Joe said, running up the steps. “What’s a jumper? And how the hell did you guys get here anyway?”
~~~
Even the exuberant Tokoloshe stood frozen in terror, staring at the dark shape glowering at everyone from the balcony. Ethan’s eyes darted from Gogo Maya to Lewa and back again. The dumfounded expression on both their faces did not instill him with confidence that anyone was likely to leave the balcony alive. He wondered if they would all be burned to a crisp.
Jimoh appeared suddenly. He did not even look to see what had happened to the tiger. “Ethan, you have to come!” he said, and then stopped dead at the sight of the dragon.
“It’s the Mokele Mbembe,” Ethan said in a hoarse whisper. “He has come for his gemstones!”
The dragon did not move. Jimoh looked at it, then looked at Galal, who had shrunk back ever so slightly behind Gogo Maya. “There is no time for this, Ethan! Go! Go down the stairs. A girl needs you!” he said.
Ethan felt a moment’s relief. Jimoh had said a girl, so it was not Joe, but it was someone! He would have to help. He edged slowly towards the door, hoping the dragon would be sufficiently distracted by Jimoh. The dragon eyed him threateningly... He stopped.
“Ah, sheet!” Jimoh strode up to Galal. “Dragon wants jewels,” he said to the man, putting his hand out for them. Every Almohad in the room fumbled to remove their jewellery, except Galal, who clutched his protective amulet closer. “Give!” Jimoh shouted at him. “There is not time. Girl is hurt. I need Ethan!” Galal proffered the amulet reluctantly. Jimoh snatched it from him and ran towards the beast balancing precariously on the edge of the balcony.
Mokele Mbembe opened his eyes as wide as anyone else in the room, almost overbalancing as he scrambled to lift one leg and stretch it out for the amulet. Jimoh draped the string of jewels over the proffered talon, bowing low as he did so. Ethan could not believe his eyes. Approaching the creature was amazing in itself, but only Jimoh would have the presence of mind to be polite. Then, before anyone had time to think, Jimoh doffed his hat and grabbed Ethan by the hand, dragging him out of the room.
~~~
At the sight of the girl’s wound, Ethan’s stomach lurched. It was much worse than either Jimoh’s or Tariro’s wounds had been. She had a gash right down her thigh that did not look as if he could close it up even with the magic in his blood. Luckily she had passed out. He took his knife out anyway, and knelt beside her on the steps. Even if he did not have the strength to heal her, surely whatever he could give was better than nothing.
Before he cut himself Salih slunk in beside him. “No! You cannot do it here, Ethan,” he said, and then was interrupted by Gogo Maya, who muscled her way in from behind, and took charge of the situation. With the help of Grandma Wanyika and her Tokoloshe, who had their sleeping arrows at the ready, Go
go Maya directed the girl to be transported to a quiet room.
Galal, having escaped from the hovering dragon once he’d given up his jewels, looked genuinely concerned for the girl, Nandi. Rather than stand in Gogo Maya’s way, he deferred to the healing power of the witch. Not that she had any power at all, Ethan realised. If anyone was going to help the girl, it was going to have to be him.
Gogo Maya should not have given him time to think about it. The more he thought about it now the more queasy his stomach felt and the more he worried that the Almohad might turn on him if he did not succeed. They might not be able to beguile him as they had done Joe because of the amulet he wore, but a simple whack to the head would put paid to that defense.
At first they’d been unable to pry Joe off the girl once he’d caught up with her, but Rafiki dealt with the problem by deftly stabbing Joe in the leg with a sleeping arrow, and a group of Tokoloshe carted him off, all efficiency once they had a proper job to do. Joe looked to Ethan in almost as bad shape as the girl.
“Don’t worry, Ethan,” Jelani told him in his gravelly voice. “We will guard cousin Joe.” He took the spare amulet from Jimoh and slipped it around Joe’s neck as they went.
“You don’t have to do this, Ethan,” Gogo Maya told him once they had laid the girl out on a pallet. Her brow drew down in concentration and her jaw tightened. “It is not as if they didn’t have it coming to them, and it is not your problem.” She glanced anxiously at the door. “We will wait till Lewa has chased the dragon. She can help this girl.”
Jimoh took Nandi’s wrist gently and felt for a pulse. Ethan wondered who on earth could have taught the boy to do that and if he knew what he was doing, but Jimoh turned pleading eyes towards him. He knew exactly how bad it was.
“Blood is very weak, Ethan,” he said. “Is going to die.”
“It is a terrible risk, Ethan,” Gogo Maya protested, but not very enthusiastically. “Salih says it will be the third time in too few days. You can’t do it again so soon. You risk losing everything.”