The Spirit Quest cotpl-2

by John H. Burkitt

  He took Akase to the back of the cave. “Has he had trouble sleeping lately?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the muscle stiffness?”

  “He told you about that?”

  “No. I’m afraid not. It’s a symptom of Koh’suul.” He whispered, "When he comes to himself, take him across the savanna to the edge of the forest."

  "Where to?"

  "The most appropriate place. The fever will subside, and he'll have a couple of hours of clear thinking. But my dear, you must hurry. He will not live to see the moon tonight."

  "Oh gods, no!"

  "Hsssh!"

  "You're a shaman," she whispered, but every bit as urgent as a scream. "Can't you do something? Anything? I can't let death take him from me! I just can't!"

  He looked in her eyes, pulling down the lid gently with his thumb. "Don't worry, in his own way Aiheu has shown you mercy.” He silently traced a circle around her right eye with his fingertips and touched her under the chin. He wanted her to know she would soon look on the face of God and call Him by name. “Two, maybe three days alone. Use that time to prepare yourself.”

  "Oh." She nodded, and warm tears trickled down her cheeks. “I understand. Aiheu is merciful. But if I could have only seen my grandchild first. You must send my love to the child.”

  He wiped away her tears. "Say good bye to no one, not if you really love them. You must not drink from the common watering hole or the stream till you have crossed the meadow. You must not stop to relieve yourself until you have found the place. I will have to purge this cave before it is safe." He kissed her. "Is there anything you want me to tell Mufasa?"

  "No, just say good bye for me." She sighed. "Poor Taka, I would not live long enough to say what is in my heart. Promise me you will try and look after him. He is so dependent. Promise me you'll look after him."

  "I promise I will do what I can."

  "Whispering about me behind my back, old girl?" It was Ahadi, much improved.

  "I was just telling Rafiki about the surprise. You haven't felt well, and now that the medicine is helping you, you can take a little trip with me to see something special."

  "Yes, I am much improved. I won't have to be dragged out, and that is a pleasant surprise. Don't think I didn't know my time was up. Death has been stalking me--now it rushes in for the kill." He regarded her gently. "He gave you the marks of Aiheu. I take it old girl that we are in this together?"

  "As always." She nuzzled him gently.

  With a heavy heart, Rafiki gathered dead grass from the savanna and made a pile of it in the middle of the cave. He put ferns on top of it and a sprinkling of powdered Alba. Then he took a clay pot, and emptied from it a few glowing coals on the tinder.

  The coals satisfied their great hunger, raising a cloud of smoke that quickly filled the cave with its bitter incense.

  "Fire! Fire!" It was Taka. He rushed into the cave, coughing and wheezing at the smoke. “Is anyone in here?”

  "You must leave," Rafiki said.

  "You foolish ape! What do you think you are doing?? Have you lost your mind?? When Mom and Dad see this, they will cuff you senseless!"

  "They will never see this," Rafiki said. "It was the Koh'suul. Flee. You are in great danger here."

  "Koh'suul?" Taka's eyes widened. "But that’s fatal. You mean Dad is dying? Does Mom know?"

  "Akase has gone with him."

  "Hffff!” He stiffened up. “She was well. I saw her this morning. She was well! What do you mean she has gone with him? Without telling me?? She’ll catch it too! Where is she??"

  "You cannot see her. It would be death to you. I'm sorry, but she had it when I got here. Death had already placed his mark on her."

  "But I must see her!" He pounced on Rafiki and held him to the floor of the cave with his paws. "Tell me where she is or I'll crush the life out of you!"

  "Your mother made me promise to care for you. If you must kill me, you must. "

  Taka looked confused, sad, and finally released Rafiki. He turned and sat facing the wall. “Sassie doesn’t love me. My brother doesn’t love me. The gods don’t love me. All I had left was here. Now I’m alone. They are killing me one small piece at a time. This time they killed my heart.” He trembled. “I walk, I speak, yet I am dead inside. Dead.”

  "There must be something I can do," Rafiki said, getting up.

  "Haven't you done enough?"

  "That's not fair, Taka. When I was young, my mother died of Beh'to. Before the end, she was banging her head on a tree, trying to force the headache out. I watched her die in the most dire agony. That's when I knew I must be a shaman. I would never have to feel so helpless again.”

  “Then why not help them?”

  “As my knowledge grew, every answer raised new questions. I cannot heal every wound. So more important than my herbs and spells is knowing something to say to comfort the Ka when these bodies of Ma'at crumble."

  "Then say something comforting to me."

  He stroked Taka's mane. "I think about the prophesy. I think about it a lot. Oh, I knew where I wanted to be and what I wanted to do in a year, in five years, in ten. Now I am committed to fight this thing. All my hopes and dreams have been turned upside down. In this way we are alike, my friend. Our childhood dreams are over. The morning has come and we awake to face reality in the light of the sun. Let us find something real in the sunlight, something that pleases us, and hold on to it. All else is vanity."

  "You are a foolish ape," Taka said. "But even a fool may say the right thing at times."

  Later that evening, Zazu reported the death of the King.

  Rafiki came and put his arms around Muffy and whispered, “It’s time.”

  Mufasa climbed slowly up the precipice of Pride Rock and when he reached the tip, paused for a moment. Then he lifted up his head and roared. It was a sad and terrible roar that rent the evening sky, and the lionesses joined in. The King was dead. Long live the King.

  The following weeks took their toll on both Mufasa and Taka. The death of Ahadi and Akase left them without guidance and they had to become self-reliant. The emotional toll was especially bad on Taka, but Mufasa nearly crumbled under the the weight of ruling a kingdom. He found himself increasingly turning to Rafiki for advice.

  The mandrill chuckled lightly, arms crossed. “Why ask me? You are the king; I am just a simple old monkey.”

  “You are not simple. You’re a whole lot wiser than I am.”

  Rafiki shook his head vehemently. “No! A whole lot older, I’ll grant you.”

  Mufasa shifted uncomfortably. “You are gifted, Rafiki. You can see the future. Can’t you tell me what the right course will be?”

  “Ah, so that’s it.” He grunted as he sat down on a low rock. “Come here, my boy.”

  Mufasa obligingly padded over and sat next to him. Rafiki reached up and patted Mufasa’s shoulder. “Gods, you have grown. I still remember the young cub who used to come to me for jerky.”

  “It was good, too,” Mufasa said.

  “Let me give you something to chew on that is not as tasty, but fills the empty spirit.” Rafiki leaned forward. “Mufasa, it is better not to be tied to the future. It is the natural way of things to happen as they will. Your brother is bound to the future. It has crept around him like a small vine. But look what happens as the vine gets larger.” He took out one of his walking sticks, the top of which was coiled and curved. “It will grow to dominate your life, and twist your path in many directions. You will stop ACTING and go through life REACTING. You will be like a stone that lies around helplessly, waiting to see where the future will toss it next.”

  Mufasa sighed. “I guess you’re right. I just...I’m afraid of making the wrong choices.” He looked at Rafiki, his face open and honest as ever. “I don’t want to ruin someone’s life because of an ill-thought decision.”

  The words stung Rafiki. He had a vivid recollection of young Taka cringing in the corner of the old baobab, crying out in terror: “No! T
ell me it’s not so!” He gasped and dropped his staff.

  Mufasa blinked and peered at him. “Are you OK?”

  Rafiki took a deep breath. “I’m fine, my boy. I don’t think it is wise for me to coach you on every small decision. Still, I don’t guess it would hurt THIS ONCE to look out for a major crisis?” Rafiki took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Meet me at my tree this evening. Come alone. Tell no one.”

  The time seemed to drag on interminably. Zazu made several reports to him which Mufasa only half heard, his mind on the coming evening.

  Rafiki was also restless. He spent his time in prayers and preparation. Set lovingly by the scrying bowl was a large dose of deadly euphractus. At the first sign of trouble, he would take it immediately and silence himself forever. No more would the makei use him as a weapon against the ones he loved.

  Mufasa found himself urging the sun to hurry along its path in the sky. Finally, the cool of evening encroached upon the land, and Mufasa excused himself from the others. Slipping quietly into the night, he wended his way along well known paths through the grassland until he reached the soaring baobab. Rafiki greeted him warmly, then bade him wait outside.

  Rafiki entered his home and crossed to where his scrying bowl sat, the surface of the water lightly rippled by the slight breeze that blew through his home.

  “Mano protect us. Mano equip us. Mano, we thank you.” Completing his prayers, he sat crosslegged before the bowl. The water rippled a moment longer, then stilled. Rafiki felt a pulling sensation, then all went dark.

  He drifted in the darkness, floating calmly. This was only the beginning of the process, and sometimes it felt like it took hours before the vision would appear. Impatience only disturbed concentration and slowed the process down, so he relaxed and waited.

  Abruptly the darkess took on a deeper tone, and fear began to make him shiver. The cold of death, more icy than an arctic wind, brushed him slowly. He felt a dragging sensation, pulling at him inoxerably with a grip of iron. He jerked away as two eyes flared alight in the darkness in front of him, a cold light emenating from them which illuminated nothing. Pain awoke in his hands, slamming up his arms in a wave of agony. Suddenly the eyes vanished, along with the dragging sensation, and he tumbled helplessly through the dark, crying out in fear as unseen shapes began to buffet him mercilessly in a frightful current of invisible force...

  And then he opened his eyes to see the bowl of water shimmering in the bright moonlight that seeped through the leaves of his home. Shuddering with the reaction, he sat for a moment, composing himself. “Mufasa?”

  The lion appeared quickly. He started to speak, but cut himself off, staring at the mandrill’s wan expression. “Are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Rafiki laughed shakily. “I’m supposed to see ghosts, my boy. That’s my job, remember?” He put out a hand to push himself off the floor, but winced. Pain throbbed in his hands as he looked at the bloodless gashes that perforated the backs of his hands. They faded even as he watched, but the pain left slowly.

  Mufasa glanced down curiously. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Just a little mifupa setting into these old bones.” He flexed his hands gingerly. “I had a strange vision-”

  Mufasa held up a paw, the gesture so like his father’s it broke Rafiki’s heart. “Hold, my friend. I was thinking while I was waiting down there about what you said to me earlier. I don't want to know. I want to make my own destiny.”

  Rafiki relaxed, smiling slightly. “And you said you weren’t wise.” He placed an arm around Mufasa’s shoulders. “All right, but let me give you this little bit of advice: some of us are destined for long life. Others are not. But a little caution never shortened anyone’s time.”

  “Sound advice for a king,” Mufasa grinned. “Thank you, my friend.” He started to turn away, but paused. “Are you sure you don't need to tell me something? You looked awfully scared.”

  “No, my friend.” Rafiki put his arms around Mufasa’s neck and gave him a quick hug. “I worry about you sometimes. Just a foolish old ape with the jitters, I guess.” He backed away and flapped his arms at the huge lion as though he was shooing a fly. “Now beat it. Sassie’s probably waiting for you.”

  “Well, since you put it like that...” Mufasa chuckled as he headed away into the night. Rafiki watched him go, then lifted his throbbing hands to his face again, his smile fading as he looked at the red spots that remained.

  The next day, Rafiki led Uzuri aside. “I was wondering if you could perform a favor for me.”

  “Certainly.”

  “Shhhh! Quietly. Should Mufasa go with you on your hunts, please be careful. I don’t want to see anyone get hurt out there.”

  “I am careful on every hunt, no matter who goes.” She shrugged, lionlike, by flicking her tail. “Still, it won’t hurt to bear extra caution.” She peered at him warily. “Why? What is wrong?”

  “Just a feeling.” He sighed, then patted her shoulder. “Not to worry; I doubt much will come of it.”

  CHAPTER 43: FAMILY MATTERS

  The warm sunlight backlit the mandrill as he walked through the crowd of animals, stretching his shadow out before him in a wavering line. Rafiki nodded and smiled at the familiar faces as he made his way through the throng, the creatures parting before him in a living wave. Reaching the foot of Pride Rock, he began climbing the steep rocks carefully, finding a grip easily in the time worn stone as he ascended.

  His arm curled up and over, laying flat upon the surface of the promontory as he hauled himself up. Gaining his balance, he lifted his head and saw the hulking form of Mufasa sitting there, awaiting him. The wind ruffled Mufasa’s mane lightly as a smile spread across his face. Rafiki grinned back at him, setting his staff down and embracing his old friend. The two stood there for a moment, then they both turned to look behind Mufasa.

  Sarabi lay quietly, her forepaws wrapped around the small furry bundle that had become the center of her universe. As Mufasa came to stand beside her, she nuzzled him, burying her face in the soft tresses of his mane. Their purring blended in a soft rumble as they looked down at what their love had brought forth into the world.

  Rafiki stepped forward slowly and peered intrestedly at the cub nestled next to Sarabi’s chest. The tiny head turned and looked up at him, the young eyes open now and staring up at him with a wonder that delighted the mandrill. Sarabi smiled at him and nodded, and he picked the cub up gently, feeeling the child’s purring in his hands as he held him to his chest. He looked up as Mufasa and Sarabi for a moment, then turned and headed toward the end of the promontory. Reaching the end, he looked with awe at the assemble throng of life which spread before him. The sight took his breath away, and he held the cub out for all to see. “May the wind blow kindly on you,” he said softly, as the crowd below burst forth in jubilation. “May the sun shine brightly on you. May the gods take you to their heart.”

  As if in answer, the clouds above parted, a brilliant shaft of light shining down directly upon him, dazzling his eyes. A golden nimbus surrounded the cub he held in his hands, and he stared in wonder and joy as the animals below knelt in reverence.

  At last, he lowered the child and held him for a moment, then returned him to Sarabi’s loving arms. She smiled radiantly and nuzzled him. “Thank you, Rafiki.”

  Mufasa nuzzled his son once more, then turned and descended the rocks carefully, his good mood fading. He had an unpleasant visit to make.

  Some distance away, a small mouse lay flailing madly at the empty air in panic, her tail trapped in between two enormous claws. Taka stared across the gap between himself and the rodent, feeling as though he had been set aflame. Slowly, he turned the mouse this way and that, noting idly how the light glinted off the beady black eyes, now spread wide in panic.

  “Life’s not fair, is it?” he queried the struggling mouse. “For you see, I...well, I shall never be king.” He uttered a grunting laugh, then looked at his captive in mock commi
seration. “And you..will never live to see the light of another day.” Chuckling lowly, he spread his jaws, fangs gleaming in the morning light. “Adeiu.” He closed his eyes and extended his tongue expectantly, preparing to savor the delightful crunch the rodent would make before she was swallowed whole.

  A voice which had begun to annoy him increasingly of late spoke from behind him. “Didn’t your mother tell you not to play with your food?” Zazu glared at Taka, who lowered the mouse, sighing with exasperation.

  “What do you want?” he rumbled.

  “I’m here to announce that King Mufasa’s on his way,” Zazu informed him gleefully. “So you’d better hava a good excuse for missing the ceremony.”

  Taka’s claws flexed angrily, and he felt the mouse struggle free of his grip. The creature scurried acros the floor into a crack and was gone. “Oh, now look, Zazu, you’ve made me lose my lunch,” he growled angrily.

  Lunch became the least of his worries after Mufasa’s arrival.

  “Sarabi and I didn’t see you at the presentation of Simba,” he said. Please say you were sick, he thought. I don’t care if it’s true or not.

  His heart sank as Taka looked at him in a expression of utter contempt. “That was today? Oh, I feel simply AWWWful.” Stretching, he drew his claws down the rock face with a screech that set Mufasa’s teeth on edge. “Must have slipped my mind.”

  “Yes, well, as slippery as your mind is, as the King’s brother, you should have been FIRST in line!” Zazu glared at him. His bellegirence vanished quickly as he dove away, Taka’s fangs clicking together in the empty air where he had been.

  “Well, I was first in line,” Taka shot back acerbically, “until the little hairball was born.” What little chance he had of making something of himself had vanished with the arrival of that cub.