“It’s time to bury this thing.” Tomorrow, when the first full day of her adventure began, she’d return the stone to nature as Witch Casey had insisted.
Tonight, she’d just have to do her best to relax and get some sleep.
Chapter 5
Devon woke with a start to the grinding sound of a Jeep’s engine turning over. A hint of sunlight filtered through the thatch roof and a crack in the door. Children played and squealed nearby.
The camp was wide-awake even if she wasn’t.
She stretched her aching body. Sleeping on an inflatable bed could grow old fast. Reaching for her clothes, she slipped her hand into her pocket to reassure herself the stone was still there. It was.
Even if she gave the stone to nature, she’d have a little souvenir to keep. The dragon marking on her palm was still there, dark as coffee by the light of day. It wouldn’t smear or be washed away even with soap and water, which made the mark feel somewhat defiant or possessive, as if the dragons’ claim would not be ignored.
Heat from the sun filled the hut. Reaching for her bag, she pulled out a water bottle and chugged half before taking a break. Today she’d need a Jeep and someone who knew the lay of the land. She wanted to explore freely. The day’s goal was to capture stunning photos and return the stone to the foothills of Kilimanjaro. She’d have to find a way to get Kibo to cooperate with her plans and not the other way around.
“Hello,” a woman called from outside.
“Hi,” Devon returned.
“Are you awake?”
“Yes, I’ll be out shortly.”
“I have fresh water and a cloth for washing. I’ll leave it outside the door for when you’re ready.”
“Thank you.” Devon groaned, realizing she’d also miss the luxury of a nice hot shower. All the simple comforts she’d taken for granted were gone for the next ten days. When the woman didn’t speak another word, Devon got up and peeked out the door. No one was in sight. She grabbed the bowl of water and washcloth. It was time to get clean for the day.
The cool water felt good on her travel-weary skin. Airplane cabins were so drying. She changed into a set of fresh clothes, pulled her wavy hair back into a hair tie, and grabbed her canvas travel hat and backpack. At the last moment, she remembered to smear a swipe of sunblock across her face to keep her dusting of freckles from taking over her face. Clean and ready to go, Devon left the hut. The sun shone unrelentingly. She plopped the hat on her head. A hot, humid day on the veld was building.
A cluster of children ran around playfully while following their mothers, who gracefully balanced large bowls on their heads.
Needing to find a guide for the day, she hoped to spot a friendly person who might prove easier to dominate than the stalwart Kibo. Ambling along, she took in the sights and sounds of the village and its inhabitants, marveling that they could live so intimately with strangers in their midst. She shook her head. It must be weird.
Devon glanced around the village, trying to figure out which direction to go in. The village children spotted her and rushed toward her, squealing with excitement. Within moments, she was surrounded by a laughing mob. They all tried to hug her. Surprised but thrilled by their affection, she hugged them back. “Good morning.”
The children treated her like a loved one and a sense of joy took hold. It started in her stomach and worked its way up to her heart. It was a very sweet greeting.
One of the little boys tugged on Devon’s pant leg. “Miz, your guide is waiting.” He pointed between the huts. “You sleep late. Guide angry.”
In the distance she spied Kibo sprawled across the driver side of the Jeep the way he had yesterday. He didn’t look angry. Today he had a small smile on his face. Did this mean he would treat her to less stern silence? She waved a friendly hello.
Kibo returned her gesture with a crisp wave.
She bent so she was eye level with the children. Some touched her ponytail. Others touched her face or her clothes. Devon rose and looked to where Kibo had been sitting in the Jeep moments earlier, but now he was missing. She turned in a circle, looking to see where he went, but he’d disappeared into thin air. Vanished.
Someone tapped on her shoulder, startling her. She spun around to find Kibo standing behind her. She didn’t know if she wanted to scream her frustrations or laugh at his sneakiness. How did he do that?
Kibo’s expression was flat. “We ride today, yes?”
Devon nodded. She longed to get moving. There was so much to see.
Kibo frowned. “We go now.”
Oh dear, another frolicking day of fun with Kibo. “I’m ready.”
Kibo turned on his heels and strode off.
Devon did her best to catch up to him. She dug into her back pocket and pulled out some currency. She had to give him something for his time and expertise and maybe a teensy-weeny tip up front would soften his stiff attitude?
Kibo waved the money away. “I do not need to be paid.” He walked toward the Jeep with a fast gait. His long legs covered ground in easy strides.
Okay, so a bribe wouldn’t work. Seriously, would it kill him to be the least bit accommodating? Devon wasn’t used to speed walking. She kept a healthy pace, but this was just too much. Luckily they’d be in the Jeep, because she didn’t think she could keep up with him. If, God forbid, they were on a walking safari, she’d end up lion fodder for sure.
Kibo was in his seat and ready to pull away as she climbed in beside him. When he stepped on the gas, she fell back against the seat.
Devon shot him an accusing look.
“We got a late start.” He shrugged. “I make up for lost time.”
The Jeep roared away from the camp in a cloud of dust, bouncing so wildly Devon half suspected Kibo was steering toward ruts and wanted to test her. She knew she wasn’t a lazy or spoiled American, but he didn’t. Okay, maybe a little, but Kibo certainly didn’t know how determined she was.
They drove across the plain in silence. A half hour passed. Kibo spoke first. “What does miz want to photograph today?”
“Huh?” They’d driven in silence for so long, when he spoke it took her by surprise. “Gosh, whatever shows itself is going to be fine with me.”
“Miz, you got a strange name. I forgot it.”
“Devon.” She tapped her heart. “I’m Devon.”
“Di-voon.”
“Day-von. It’s pronounced Day-von.”
“Deee-van.”
“Close, very close,” she mumbled. No sense in arguing with him. At least Kibo was trying to be personable. Obviously he wasn’t a natural people person, and she suspected conversation didn’t come easy for him.
They drove for what seemed like an eternity through deserted plains of swaying golden-green grass. Except for the occasional startled flock of black-faced sandgrouse, Devon wondered if they’d ever see signs of animal life.
Unexpectedly, the sound of thunder rumbled in the distance. She gazed to the sky, only to find it cloudless. She’d heard the nearly twenty-thousand-foot peak of Mount Kilimanjaro was tall enough to create its own weather system, but how could there be a thunderstorm with no clouds? The rumbling boom grew louder, and she glanced at Kibo, hoping for reassurance.
He gripped the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles strained with tension.
“What’s wrong, Kibo? What’s that noise?”
“Impalas.”
“What?”
“They must be frightened. Large group running very fast.”
Devon grabbed the roll bar that ran over her head and turned in the seat. “Where are they?” Scanning the ocean of grass for signs of impalas, she spotted a few graceful heads leaping high above the tall grass and disappearing again. She gasped in shock when she realized the entire plain behind them was alive with impalas. A massive herd was charging full speed directly toward the Jeep.
Excited, Devon fished in her bag for her camera. She wouldn’t miss an opportunity like this. The stampeding impalas were a once-in-a-l
ifetime photo. “Can I get out?” she asked, camera in hand. She didn’t look toward Kibo and was too busy adjusting the settings.
“Crazy woman. Stay in the Jeep! We are in danger. We must outrun them if we want to live.”
“Want to live?” The severity of the situation hadn’t registered. She’d assumed the impalas would run around them. How were they in danger?
“They run over us.” Kibo floored the gas before she could ask.
The impalas neared, and it became apparent the Jeep wasn’t going to outrun them on the rough terrain. Startled impalas leaped and bounced everywhere. A few animals stumbled in front of the Jeep as they approached a shallow ditch.
Kibo stomped on the brakes to avoid striking the animals and brought the Jeep to a halt.
Devon jerked violently forward and back again in her seat. “Whoa!” Did he have to drive that way? The pounding hooves grew louder. She covered one ear, hoping to block some of the noise. Devon clutched the camera in her other hand and clicked away.
A thick cloud of dust rose around them, making it nearly impossible to see more than a few yards. The ground shook. These impala were merely the leaders; the main herd was coming. Squinting into the chaos, she feared what would happen next. Would the flighty creatures overrun the Jeep and the seemingly delicate animals trample them? The tough little Jeep suddenly felt like a fragile thing pitted against a racing tide of frightened animals. She wanted to scream but was too scared to make a sound. The startled animals came up on the Jeep and simply sprang into the air to avoid a collision. Their hooves and white bellies flew inches above her head, creating a surreal sight. She drew her legs up until she was in a fetal position. Huddled on the seat, she continued snapping away as wave after wave of impalas poured around the Jeep or glided overhead. With the camera pointed upward, she kept shooting. She wouldn’t allow herself to panic and miss this opportunity. An oddly comforting thought occurred to her as she felt the thunder of thousands of hooves pounding the ground. This is what the earth feels every day. This is normal.
The impalas kept coming. Devon stared in stunned awe. A slice of blue sky was barely visible beyond the leaping animals and the grassy debris they had kicked into the air. Amid all the chaos, something very strange appeared. In the dust-mottled sky a large, dark shadow swooped in slow circles.
Devon squinted against the glare, convinced she saw the jagged wings of a dragon with a whipping tail soaring above. She blinked in disbelief and kept clicking photos, praying there was ample room on the camera’s memory card. The silhouette she saw was impossible, and she wondered if perhaps it was a huge vulture. There was no such thing as an African dragon—or any kind of dragon, for that matter. It seemed dreamlike. She chalked it up as a stressed-out, jet-lagged delusion.
Within seconds of the weird shadow passing overhead, the tide of impalas changed directions. The animals burst away from the Jeep, scattershot. She felt and heard them turn and flee. The noise was deafening, but it didn’t take long for the clamor to dissipate.
Devon removed her hand from her ear and opened her eyes wide.
Kibo appeared stunned as he stared skyward.
“You saw it too, didn’t you?” she demanded.
“The impalas are running for their lives,” Kibo muttered.
“Yeah, but what are they running from? Is there something else out here we should be scared of?”
“It’s gone now, miz.” Kibo pulled a semiautomatic rifle from behind the driver seat and cocked it. “I got this, in case it comes back.”
Devon realized she didn’t want to know what the impalas were fleeing from. “Are the impalas the greatest danger out here?”
“If you stepped out of the car, you’d be trampled to pulp by flying impalas. Do you like being kicked in the head? You want more danger than that?”
“Okay, I get it now about the flying impalas.” She’d thought him crazy when he’d explained the scratches and dents. Apparently, he was very sane. “What else should I be worried about, and what the hell just flew overhead and startled the impalas?”
“Marduko.” Kibo put the Jeep in gear and drove out of the rut.
A vivid picture formed in her mind as she stealthily glanced at the dragon mark on her palm. She couldn’t yet bring herself to say the word dragon aloud. “A Marduko is a flying creature, perhaps a large bird of prey? Will it hurt us?”
“A Marduko is not a bird, and it’s not interested in me.” Kibo shook his head. “Marduko hunt and steal women.”
“Oh.” Devon took the opportunity to check her pictures. “You mean in folktales?”
“No, miz. Marduko swoop from the sky and steal women.”
“I’ll be extra careful.” It sounded highly improbable. She wanted to know if she’d snapped any dragons, or if it truly was her overactive imagination reacting to Kibo’s somber and overwrought mood. With the dragon marking now on her palm, she was likely hallucinating. If nothing else, she prayed she’d captured an amazing shot of the impalas.
Clicking through, she was disappointed yet relieved to find there were no dragon photos, only murky shadows, airborne hooves, and clouds of dust. Good news, there were a few amazing shots of the wild-eyed impalas arching over the Jeep that might be marketable. She couldn’t wait to share these with Jace and Beau. Now she had a great story to tell, and photographic proof to back it up. They’d be so proud of her.
A SLOW-PACED, BUMPY hour or two later, they arrived in an area full of low, wide acacia trees and dense brush. The trees and greenery were a pleasant sight after the inland ocean of brittle shrubbery and golden grass they’d witnessed along the way.
The plains nearer Kilimanjaro were far wetter and thick with bushy vegetation. A loud trumpet sound blasted through the stifling air, signaling an elephant was near.
“Are we safe here?” Devon asked cautiously with renewed respect for the veld.
“Yes.” Kibo parked the Jeep beneath an acacia tree. “They won’t bother us unless they feel threatened.”
“Great.” Thoughts of the impalas running frantically away from the shadowy threat filled her mind. What if the elephants suddenly encountered something that scared them? The last thing she needed was to be crushed by a frightened two-ton pachyderm trying to climb into the Jeep.
The ground shook, and Devon felt the giant’s presence before seeing it. A branch broke in a thicket, and she knew an elephant was making its way toward them. When it appeared from the brush, she grabbed her camera, continually clicking the button, moving the camera in various directions to capture the regal enormity of the creature.
The elephant raised its trunk and released a bellowing trumpet. She’d heard elephants many times at the circus or a zoo, but being in the wild with the animal was much different. Intense was the word. She looked toward Kibo and smiled.
“You like?” He smiled in return.
“Yes. It’s incredible how close we are.” As if on cue, the stone heated inside the hidden pocket on her pant leg. It seemed to be reminding her to bury it during this trip. She’d already planned to do exactly that once she found the perfect location, and she believed the stone would let her know when she arrived.
The elephants moved on toward another clump of greenery.
“There’s more.” Kibo restarted the Jeep and sped off.
“We’re leaving?” Now she was being whisked off to somewhere new. Hopefully it would be another photo-worthy encounter and not some violent surprise. They drove through tangled thorny brush that rose treelike on either side of the path. The veld was alive with the sounds of birds and even the occasional troop of chattering monkeys. The towering vegetation closed in overhead, partially shading the Jeep from the blazing sun.
Devon immediately conjured thoughts of being Jane in a Tarzan adventure and diligently watched above, alert for naughty, poop-flinging monkeys, poisonous snakes, or grouchy leopards poised to pounce. She knew they liked to lurk in trees. The last thing she wanted was to be attacked by a vicious or ill-tempered animal.
Kibo drove straight through the brush, flattening it with the grille of the Jeep like an icebreaker plowing the North Sea. A few times she let out a yelp when she believed they’d be tangled up and left stranded, but the Jeep pushed through. “Should we even be here? Is there a cleared path somewhere else?”
His face remained stoic. “I know the bush.”
She wanted to trust him, but his driving seemed a bit reckless. He drove too fast, and she continued to be jostled violently in her seat when visibly smoother paths were available. If it weren’t for the seat belt, she’d likely have been dumped on the ground miles back.
“Slow down,” she demanded in a moment of irritation.
Kibo laughed. “We’re going somewhere special few people see.”
“It’s not funny. You’re scaring me.” Which admittedly didn’t take much.
What scared her even more was the thought of looking like the fussy American. No, that wasn’t so scary. The idea of falling in love and really getting hurt scared her. For years, she’d studiously built and maintained a protective wall around her heart. Jace, in his bold, sneaky way, had managed to smash it before she even realized she was seriously under assault. He’d been casual with her and not pushed. She’d allowed him in, discovering only after the fact that Jace treated her the way she treated others. He kept her in uncertainty and held her at arm’s length. If only Jace wanted to be let in. If only she could allow it. He didn’t seem to want to explore a deeper relationship with her and he confused the hell out of her. And then there was Beau who hadn’t even made a move, yet she obsessed over him.
The Jeep bounced hard against the rough terrain. Devon clutched the roll bar. It was time to get her mind right; she’d come to Africa for an adventure, and that was what she would experience. She’d deal with the men when she arrived back in the States. Until then they were off-limits, just like long soapy showers, juicy cheeseburgers, and beloved technology. With the decision firmly made, she looked to see where they were headed. The Jeep came to another abrupt stop, and she lurched hard against the shoulder restraint. Kibo needed to stop doing that to her. She wouldn’t be surprised if there were bruises from the seat belt across her chest.
The Lady Prefers Dragons Page 8