by Vered Ehsani
Still smiling, Gideon turned to me and whispered, “He trusts me. Isn’t that sweet?” With a laugh and a whistle, he faded away.
Chapter 16
THREE DAYS PASS with delirious rapidity when one is preparing oneself for possible ingestion by a giant arachnid. I couldn’t for the life of me imagine what Anansi could possibly want with me, and that created an alarming sensation in the pit of my stomach that could only be described as anxiety. Gideon’s apprehension lay in the conundrum of assigning an acceptable caregiver for Shelby.
“Mr. Timmons is less than useless with babies,” Gideon grumbled to me after having harassed the gentleman for an entire morning over the finer details of caring for an infant simian. “I shudder to think what will become of any offspring the two of you might produce.”
“As do I,” I retorted, although my reasons were quite different from his. I shuddered just visualizing myself in the awkward state that was the dream of so many women. How would I ride a flying horse or battle river snakes if I was thus encumbered?
Then again, nature seemed of a similar mind for despite two marriages, I’d yet to succumb to the family condition. Given my predilection for perilous situations, perhaps that was all for the best. Or so I reassured myself. Having Shelby only highlighted how unsuitable I truly was for such an occupation.
Fortunately, Kam had the good sense to arrive after breakfast, so I was in a tolerably optimistic mindset when thunder boomed and he appeared before us on the veranda, his impressive physique filling the doorway, his dark skin glowing in the watery light.
Not one to waste breath on social niceties, Kam acknowledged Mr. Timmons with a glance before turning to me and saying, “Are you ready, Miss Knight?”
I slurped the remaining dregs of tea from my cup and stood, my trepidation only evident in the white knuckled grip of my hand on my walking stick. Without a word to Kam and an all too brief embrace with Mr. Timmons, I led the way to the barn where Nelly waited. If Kam was aware of Gideon floating behind us, he said nothing at all.
“Where to this time?” I asked as I settled myself in the saddle, wondering if we would find ourselves back in the bamboo forests around Mt. Kenya.
Smiling enigmatically, Kam whispered into Nelly’s ear. Snorting loudly and flickering her ears, the horse reared upward and flung herself into the sky, nearly unseating me in the process.
“Bloody beast,” I muttered, which were the same words I uttered on nearly every flight. Lightning snapped around me, and ozone stung my nostrils. I’d only just readjusted myself when we began a steep descent, landing on a pile of volcanic rock.
“What a desolate place,” I said, glancing about. We were on a mountain of rocky rubble. Nelly pawed at the stones, her hooves sliding until they hit against a boulder under the scree. Further up the slope there were a few tufts of scrubby greenery which only accentuated the bleakness of the place.
“Mt. Suswa,” Kam enlightened me as he appeared by my side. Of Gideon there was no indication.
“We aren’t so far from Nairobi, are we?” I asked as I turned to take in the view.
“No,” Kam replied with disinterest.
“So why couldn’t Anansi meet us there?” I asked even as I smirked at the reaction of the townspeople upon viewing an elephant-sized spider.
Kam peered down at me, one eyebrow raised at the audacity of the question. “Anansi is the summoner, not the summoned one.” He turned and strode up the hill. “He does not come to others. Others must come to him.”
“Bloody lazy, if you ask me,” Gideon whispered by my side.
Unsure if Kam could hear Gideon, I didn’t reply and focused on hiking up the slippery slope, grateful for my boots. Nelly followed as far as the scruffy greenbelt before shoving her nose into a shrub, grunting in satisfaction at locating something edible. The ground leveled off, the loose stones being replaced by a thin layer of soil. Ahead of us, the greenery thickened until up from the ground sprouted a clump of trees, the roots of which coiled around boulders in a bid to anchor their trunks against the steady wind.
Without a pause, Kam pushed past branches and entered a path that wound steeply downward. “Take care, Miss Knight,” he warned. “The ground is rough.”
Bemused by his concern for my wellbeing, I took care to hold onto branches as we navigated large rocks and thick bushes. Perceiving an opportunity for dialog, I commented, “I don’t comprehend your motivations. When first we met, you arranged for your lion nieces to attack me. Now you’re worried I might slip.”
Kam raised his eyes and fixed them on my face with a calm unconcern. “They weren’t intending on eating you, just scaring you away.” He turned away as a smile lightened his features. “And besides, they don’t like white meat. It’s not very tasty.”
His statement aroused my astonishment. Unsure if I should be offended, I demanded, “And you would know this from personal experience?”
Ignoring the question, he said, “Even if it was edible, my nieces would never eat you, Miss Knight. Not all Europeans are as clever and brave. We rather like you, even if you are meddlesome.”
After that unexpected and controversial praise, Kam’s taciturn nature reasserted itself for he said nothing more on the matter. The path ended shortly thereafter in a small, flat opening that was hemmed in on one side by the forested slope through which we had just descended, and on the other by a rock wall that matched the opposing slope in height. A cave opening consumed much of the wall. Boulders of various sizes littered the place and blocked my view of either end of the space in which we stood. The patch of sky far above us seemed an inadequate source of light, and cool shadows dominated despite the lateness of the morning. There was an air about the place that bespoke of ancient secrets.
“What is this place?” I inquired.
“The Baboon Court,” Kam replied. “Every evening, the Baboon King leads his people down here and into the cave where they spend the night, as they have done so for many generations. See how smooth and shiny the top of the boulders are?”
Eyeing the evidence, I marveled at how polished the tops of the boulders were. “With no offense intended, I do hope we’ll be done here before they return,” I said, not at all enamored with baboons which were fearsome creatures with no manners at all.
I peered into the cavernous maw before me and I doubted that even the brightest lantern could penetrate the endless darkness. “Are we to engage in spelunking? I haven’t any equipment that would be suitable for exploring caves, I’ll have you know.”
Kam didn’t respond nor did he need to do so. My nose detected what my eyes could not: the tainted air of a musty attic that was cluttered with dust, cobwebs and dried-up insect husks. Even as I turned to fully face the cave’s entrance, I could hear something large dragging itself across rock.
“Kam, were you sincere when you said you didn’t really want me eaten?” I asked as I stepped away from the cave entrance.
Shrugging, he said, “More or less. Sometimes less.”
Just as I contemplated what weapons tucked into my walking stick could be of use, a part of the darkness broke away from the cave’s interior. With a rumble of boulders, it shifted toward the light, revealing a spider as large as an elephant.
Chapter 17
DESPITE HAVING ENCOUNTERED the Trickster God on two other occasions, I was still awed by the sight of an arachnid that couldn’t fit under my boot. Covered in long, golden-tipped hairs, Anansi’s legs were at least twice my height when straightened; even now, crouched as he was, he loomed over me. Two black, glassy eyes, each as large as my head, stared out of a vaguely humanoid face. Below these two was a row of four, much smaller eyes. None of the six eyes staring at me so much as blinked. On the top of the head were two narrow eyes as if the creature was perpetually squinting up at whatever was on the ceiling.
My lips twitched in a nervous smile until I remembered that smiles were a sign of aggression in the arachnid world. Then again, I had no cause for smiling at that point and
wouldn’t until I was safely ensconced in my kitchen and preparing a pot of tea.
Kam eased into a bow, and I followed his example. “Bwana Anansi,” he said to the accompaniment of thunder and a flash of lightning overhead.
Anansi’s fangs twitched and clicked while a high-pitched, scratchy voice chirped, “Welcome, Kalu Akanu. Welcome, Miss Knight.”
Restraining my socially engrained urge to smile, I nodded and remained silent. My walking stick seemed wholly inadequate before the eight-legged behemoth.
Anansi settled his weight amongst the rocks, unfazed by the rough ground. Boulders were like pebbles to him. “Society dangerous,” he squeaked.
While I had no doubt that all societies harbored dangerous elements, I found it rather extreme to generalize so broadly. When I remained silent, the Spider added, “Runal Society. Your Society.”
“Ah,” I said as I focused on maintaining my mouth in a straight line. “I severed my association with the Society for Paranormals before my wedding. So you see, sir, I am no longer employed by the Society.”
The eight-eyed head shuddered, an arachnid’s approximation of a head shake. “Prove.” Fangs clicked.
Acutely aware of the proximity of those fangs to my mortal frame, I repressed the urge to sigh or protest. Instead, I glanced at Kam for support which was not forthcoming. The Lightning God was studying the shiny, smooth seat of the Baboon King. “How shall I do so, sir?” I asked.
“Go to Lilly’s world.”
His answer so befuddled me that I assumed I’d misheard him. “Which world?”
“Lilly. World of Shadows.”
“What world? Why Lilly?” But the words had only just stumbled out of my mouth when I realized he was referring to the world of Mrs. Cricket. “But she’s not there,” I spluttered even as I wondered if that was true. Had Lilly been traveling to that shadowy realm without informing anyone? Could that explain the exhaustion that I had assumed was due to her condition?
“Need baby,” Anansi continued.
Aghast, I could only wonder how I found myself in these sticky situations. “Well, get your own baby then,” I snapped, my temper diminishing my prudence and natural preference for survival.
Kam flinched on my behalf but the Spider merely chortled. “Why problem?”
“Because it’s her baby,” I huffed. “And I very much doubt my cousin will merrily hand over her child to you because you say you need it, even if that baby is half bat and develops the habit of sprouting wings at inconvenient moments.”
Before Anansi could respond or bite me in two, a seductive and painfully familiar voice replied, “That baby is more powerful untrained than you’ll ever be.” Thus saying, Koki sauntered out from the darkness of the cave and stood by her husband’s side, her blue-black skin glowing in the pale light.
“Oh, this just gets better,” Gideon whispered into my tattered right ear. “I’ll distract her while you run.”
While I doubted the Mantis and the Spider would be distracted or dissuaded by a ghost, assuming they could even see him, I was touched by the earnestness of his offer. But even if he could assist me, I wouldn’t make it half way up the slope before Koki transformed into her insect form and decapitated me or chopped off a limb. I was consumed by a contrariety of emotions: alongside the habitual terror she invoked in me was a desire, unseemly in its bloodthirstiness, to exact revenge for my lost hand.
Koki smirked, having seen my poorly disguised agitation induced by her presence. The West African she-demon presented me with a mocking bow before straightening. She was as tall as Kam and just as stunning. Unlike Yawa, Koki preferred to wear richly textured fabric that covered her from shoulders to ankles and yet emphasized her womanly graces to great effect. Her shortly cropped hair didn’t detract one jot or tittle from her charm although her beauty was of the fatally seductive variety; she could effortlessly lure unwary men into death’s embrace. Even women were not spared for she wove an alluring tale of power and emancipation that could win over any heart weary of the socially enforced limitations assigned to the female form.
As I reminded myself to breathe, her scent tickled my olfactory senses: a mixture of freshly cut grass and a rich, flowery perfume. Absent was the off-putting element of slightly rancid meat.
Perhaps she hasn’t murdered anyone recently, I mused as I felt the captivating pull of her eyes. Only Gideon’s incessant chatter, urging me to depart with haste, broke the trance before it could take hold. The meaning of her words sunk through my inner turbulence and I fully awoke to the dire situation in which Lilly’s unborn child resided.
“How do you know anything about Lilly?” I asked, shaking my head to clear the confusion of thoughts and emotions.
“We’ve seen the babe,” Koki purred as she leaned against one of Anansi’s legs and stroked the long hairs. “A girl child who has inherited all the powers that both parents carry, and more.”
“But Lilly isn’t a paranormal…” I protested before I broke off as I realized to what she was referring. “Ah, yes. When Mrs. Cricket possessed Lilly, there was a transfer of some sort. Oh! The extra energy in Lilly’s field. It’s the baby’s. Of course.”
Koki gestured with one hand for me to hasten as if she wearied of my prolonged mental meandering to the truth. Anansi hissed, “Yes. Power. Need.”
“Well, you can’t have her,” I said, startling Kam and Gideon who both wore matching expressions of incredulity at my audacity. “The promise that I actually never made was between you and me. So you’ll have to be satisfied with whatever I’m capable of doing, for I shan’t involve Lilly or her baby.”
The Spider lurched forward while Koki flung her head back, her laugh echoing around us. “You?” she said with a disdainful sneer. “Oh, Miss Knight, you think far too highly of yourself to believe that you are of any use to us.”
“I’ve been in the World of Shadows, so why can’t I take her place?” I demanded, too distraught over the risk to Lilly and my unborn niece to take offense at the slight made against my abilities. “What can an unborn baby do that I can’t?”
“While Lilly is pregnant, she can access the baby’s powers,” Koki said.
“And what would you have her do?” I pressed her.
Koki sighed and shook her head as if the answer would be far too complicated for the likes of me to comprehend. Instead, Anansi said, “Summon Liongo.”
Kam’s sharp inhalation alerted me to a possible issue with that statement. I glanced at him but his gaze was fixed on the Spider. “Is that possible?” he asked, his shoulders tense, his eyes narrowed.
Scoffing, Koki replied, “If it were not, we wouldn’t be conversing on the matter. Perhaps you should trot back up the hill and toss some raindrops around while we conclude our business.”
His features resuming their characteristic neutrality, Kam replied with forced calm, “Take care, Mantis, for my raindrops have a charge to them that is electrifying.” His gravelly voice reminded me of thunder.
“Enough,” Anansi clicked and squeaked as his pincers clacked against each other. “No division allowed. Weakens us. Can’t afford. Traitors side with Society.”
“Traitors? You mean African paranormals are working for the Society?” I asked. If that were true, I could appreciate Anansi’s concern over any discord which would enfeeble whatever measures he was planning to launch in defense of his continent. Perhaps Prof Runal’s activities during his recent visit to East Africa had included securing the loyalties of collaborators.
“Yes, yes,” Koki said in a soothing tone as she stroked the bristles above Anansi’s pincers. “There are traitors but they shall all receive a fitting recompense for their treachery. Heads will roll.” She smirked, her eyes glittering with the prospect.
“Yes,” her husband hissed. “Death to traitors.”
“I can now appreciate why these two are married,” Gideon whispered beside me. “Quite a couple.”
“Yes, delightful,” I murmured. “So, who is Liongo?”
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The question distracted the jubilant couple from their contemplation of all the decapitations and dismemberments they would perform, but it was Kam who answered. “He was a famous poet—”
“A poet?” I interrupted him, unable to disguise my incredulity or my condescension. “This seems like an awful lot of bother just to retrieve a mere poet.”
Someone hissed — possibly Anansi, although Koki didn’t seem impressed by my response either — and Kam peered down at me, his eyes flashing a dark warning. “His words had supernatural sway over the minds and hearts of all who heard him.”
“Ah,” I replied. “Highly charismatic individuals are able to influence the energy fields of those around them.”
“Indeed, as you well know,” Kam said. I frowned at the reference to my husbands, both of whom could manipulate the energy or emotions of others in some manner. “In addition to his verbal power, he was a strong and formidable warrior, gifted with a bow. He was a critical ally of Anansi and an upholder of our Law who maintained watch over the eastern shores.”
I’d heard of the Law previously. From what I could fathom, it was analogous to the Society’s Mandates that protected its secrecy and provided a certain degree of order. “Was?”
“He was killed several centuries ago,” Kam continued.
“If Lilly can bring back the dead, maybe she can bring me back as well,” Gideon said, his eyes wide in anticipation.
“I hope not,” I said.
Frowning at my denial, Kam said, “No, he really was killed. I witnessed it.”
“Of course,” I hastened to reassure the puzzled storm spirit. “And now you want to summon him back. Whatever happened to rest in peace?”
“He’s not in pieces,” Koki retorted. “We took excellent care of his corpse.”
“Ask them if anyone can come back,” Gideon insisted as he floated before me and waved his hands to distract me.