ORDER OF SEVEN (22 page)

“I promise you,” I say, nodding. “We all will.” I gesture to the guys.

His eyes flit to them briefly but come straight back to mine. Nodding once, he turns, dust kicking up under his boots as he walks to his car and opens Mapiya’s door. At first it doesn’t strike me as odd that he’s leading her by the elbow.

Then I see her eyes void of color, white as milk. My mouth falls open. I know my reaction isn’t appropriate, but I’m shocked. She looks past me, smiling.

“Mapiya, this is Devi,” her father says, coaxing her hand out toward me.

I take her little pudgy hand in mine and shake. “Hi Mapiya. I’m so happy to finally meet you.”

She’s wearing jeans, purple converse shoes and a long-sleeve pink top with a silvery-maned unicorn on the front. Her long black hair is pulled back into a single braid. Precious, round cheeks frame her perpetual smile. She jerks her attention in Nodin’s general direction, cocking her head. She faces her father and points.

“Sure,” he says, leading her to Nodin and Baron, where introductions are made. Upon shaking hands with Baron, she smiles and says, “Bear.”

Her father walks back to me while she animatedly talks with the guys. “She didn’t tell you?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“She wasn’t born that way,” he says. “She lost her sight the day the white calf was born. Her mother says she gained sight in many other ways. Says she sees things others can’t see. Things from the spirit world.” He stares at her, lost in thought for a few seconds before his brows rise.

I watch him walk back to the car and return with a little blue suitcase, which he sets at my feet. He walks to Mapiya and hugs her hard, kissing her on both cheeks. As he departs, he glances back at me with tears in his eyes and says, “Return her safely.”

We watch him drive away while exchanging relieved glances.

Nodin places a hand on Mapiya’s shoulder. “Did you bring it?” he asks.

She grins and pulls a folded envelope out of her back pocket.

It’s permission for her to travel out of the country without her parents, written and signed by her mother.

The drive back feels quicker, filled with excited conversation and a lot of laughter. Mapiya is full of life, completely uninhibited and joyous. I’ve never met anyone quite like her. Her enthusiasm is infectious—she has me laughing like I haven’t since I was a kid.

She and Baron are fast friends, joking and exchanging good-natured banter, though she never once refers to him as Baron, only Bear. We talk about the flight and both Nodin and Baron answer her questions about flying. Soon the discussion turns to Africa.

“When we land,” I say to Mapiya, “do we go straight to the rune site?” The site listed for the Order in Africa is Wonderboom, a preserve in Pretoria, which protects several ancient archaeological sites dating back to the Stone Age, as well as an enormous, two-thousand year old tree.

“No. First we go to Nan Hua Temple,” she says.

Baron reminds me that it is the Buddhist temple in Bronkhorstspruit.

“Oh, okay. But why there?” I say.

“To meet the others,” Mapiya says.

“But how do they know to be there?” Nodin says.

“They see the dreams. They know what we know,” she says. “Keb made the plan.”

“Keb?” Baron asks.

“The Mahtembo rune,” she says.

“So we never needed to do all that research on their tribe ancestry to find them?” Baron says.

Mapiya’s brow crinkles. “It is good. It will help you understand who they are.”

I’m struck by her maturity. One minute, she’s like a typical eleven-year-old, chomping gum and bubbling with giggles. The next, she’s like a wise, old sage. “All the other runes will be at the temple?” I ask.

She grins wide. “All but one. We ask for Master Tran. He will take us to Keb.”

My stomach churns. “
To?
We’re going to the Mahtembo tribe?” My eyes meet Nodin’s in the rearview mirror. Images of the Mahtembo women with their painted eyes and exposed breasts swirl through my mind, the drumbeat echoing in my bones. I think of our father, painted jet black, the only way I remember him.

“Yes. We stay with Keb until it is time,” she says.

“But who is Master Tran and how does he know to expect us?”

She smiles so big, her eyes squish into crescents. “Master Tran is the head monk. Keb talked to him.”

That is when it really sinks in: we were the only ones who didn’t know we were runes. Like Mapiya, the rest had a parent or ancestor explaining who and what they were since childhood.

When Baron receives a warning vision, the others receive it, too. Without the seer of seven, there would be no sharing of information.

Baron looks up the meaning of the name Keb. It means earth.

If the name Devi isn’t linked to the earth symbol, which of Baron’s symbols is me?

•◊•◊•

We arrive in Odessa and it’s late. Nodin and Baron drop Mapiya and me off at my house, where I help her get used to the blueprint of my room. I don’t see any signs of Jamie Two, but I saw Chloe’s car out front so I know Jamie One is home. Her bedroom door is shut.

Mapiya and I speak in whispers. She brushes her teeth and gets into pajamas. We call her father to let her know we arrived safe. They talk for a few minutes and the next time I check on her, she’s sound asleep in my bed.

I check my luggage once more, making sure I haven’t forgotten anything important. I packed mostly shorts, tanks, and T-shirts because it’s going to be hot, but I also threw in two pair of jeans and a cardigan for cool nights. I pack two cinnamon tea bags which I have no intention of consuming. They will make everything in my bag smell like home. Like safety.

I scribble a note for the Jamies, telling them I’ll be out of town for ten days. Nodin took care of our parents already. He went to their house for a little visit and told them we were going on a trip together, although he didn’t tell them it was out of the country. While they asked questions, he influenced them. He made them indifferent to our whereabouts, and gave them an overall sense of contentment. They’ll never be the wiser.

We leave in the morning for a nine-forty flight out of the Midland airport. Other than the quick change of planes in Dallas, we don’t get off again until our layover in Dubai. Baron’s flight leaves a little later than ours, so we won’t see him until we’re in Johannesburg. The anxiety I feel about the trip is so encompassing, I’m surprised it’s not rattling the bed. I need a shot of tequila, or ten. Or better yet, Baron.

I feel the sensation of someone looming over me and warm fingertips press into my arm.

“Nah hi lita,” Mapiya whispers. “You can rest. We will be okay.” She puts her thumb against my forehead, just above the crease of my brows, and begins to whisper foreign words in a little song or prayer.

When she’s done, I ask her what it means.

“It’s a song my grandfather taught me. It asks the Universe for protection and guidance when you’re old and young, through battle and bounty, and in return you will take care of the sacred ground.”

I’m touched. “It’s sweet. Thank you.”

She lays her head back on the pillow next to mine. I close my eyes and sleep.

•◊
25
ץ

SOUTH AFRICA

“D
o you want to know how they died?” Mapiya whispers after the stewardess gives us blankets.

“Who?” I ask.

She leans in closer, evading prying ears, although the least of her worries is Nodin, rows away at the back of the plane. Her white eyes settle just past me and she whispers, “Train and Emilet.”

My tongue feels paralyzed and I can’t wrap my brain around her words, yet I feel myself nodding. Even in the quiet of the plane, I have to strain to hear her.

“They called him Sir. He was strict. Yelled a lot. Not like the lady, who was nice to them, but he gave them food and a place to sleep. Sir told Emilet to come into his office. Said he had candy for her. So she went in.” Mapiya is gripping my wrists, her face curled in a grimace. “He shut the door behind her. He tried to touch her in a bad way. She fought him and he got rough. She screamed.”

Mapiya swallows hard, her eyes wandering and desperate. “Train heard her scream and went into the office. He saw Sir over her with his hand under her skirt. Train attacked him. They struggled, but Sir hit him so hard, Train flew backward and hit his head on the corner of the desk. He fell on the floor, limp like a doll. Blood came out of his nose. Emilet tried to run to Train, but Sir wouldn’t let her go.” Her face is red, tears welling in her eyes.

“I know, I know.” I’m stroking both her hands, trying to console the horror she sees.

“Sir demanded she stop screaming, but she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. He wrapped his hands around her neck and choked her,” she says. “He killed them both.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and hold Mapiya’s head to my shoulder.

No wonder Nodin never told anyone.

•◊•◊•

What feels like a gazillion hours later, we land in Johannesburg. I stand despite the protest of my stiff muscles and exit the plane with Mapiya behind me, holding my arm.

After reuniting with Nodin, the three of us get our luggage, secure our rental car and settle at an airport restaurant for our near two-hour wait for Baron. We realize it is New Year’s Eve when TVs in the restaurant tune to countdown celebrations. It’s ten p.m. Johannesburg time, two hours from the New Year.

At quarter to twelve, Baron’s plane lands. I don’t think I’ve ever been more relieved and elated than the moment he walked off that plane. He gets his luggage and while walking to get him something to eat, we hear cheering and clapping. Happy New Year.

We pass around celebratory fist bumps and keep moving, anxious to leave for Bronkhorstspruit. After roaming an ocean of rentals, we find ours, a Subaru Outback, and are greeted with a surprise. The steering wheel is on the right.

“Oh shit, I mean, shoot. Sorry, Mapiya,” Nodin says. “They drive on the left side of the road here.”

“We’re all going to die,” I say, setting my bag down to take my jacket off. It was chilly on the plane, but it’s balmy and warm here in South Africa’s summer.

Baron rolls his eyes and takes the keys from Nodin. “I’ll drive,” he says, handing Nodin a piece of paper with the temple’s address. “You navigate.”

This proves easy for Nodin. The Outback has a GPS. He plugs in the address and we follow directions to the highway.

I’m surprised Johannesburg is such a metropolis. I’m not sure what I expected, but definitely not the countless tall buildings emitting a sea of twinkling white lights, made more spectacular by the New Year’s fireworks blazing across the sky. One blue-lit building towers over the rest, reminding me of photos I’ve seen of the Space Needle in Seattle. The major highway we’re on intersects with several others as we wind past downtown.

It’s a long, tense drive to the Nan Hua Temple, but we make it in a little less than two hours. It wasn’t supposed to take that long, but with the winding, unfamiliar roads in the dark, we were lucky it didn’t take longer. Baron did a great job driving on the left side of the road, but it was nerve-wracking.

When I see the grandeur of the temple, I gasp. This isn’t some quaint little building. It’s a compound with gracefully arched rooftops scooping up to meet tall peaks. We hoist our luggage over our shoulders. It’s two thirty-six in the morning when we walk up the steps to its twelve-foot tall, ornate doors.

“Do we just walk in?” I whisper.

“Their website said they were open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I checked,” says Nodin.

Baron pulls one of the doors and it opens easily, spilling forth warm light from inside. “Let’s go,” he says.

Inside is an explosion of warm reds and golds. Enormous, intricately carved columns flank the entranceway and lead us into a large, oval room. Hallways shoot off from this main room like arms, two on each side. There is a shuffle of feet, and an Asian man appears from a hallway on the left.

“Good morning,” he says in a low voice. He’s wearing an orange robe, and looks exactly like every picture of the Dalai Lama I’ve seen. But bald, and with a rounder face.

“Good morning,” we say, then Nodin steps forward. “I think someone is expecting us. We’re supposed to ask for Master Tran.”

He bows. “You have found him,” he says with a little smile. “Follow me.” He turns and walks to a different hallway on the right.

Baron hooks arms with Mapiya and we follow. The hallway is long and only lit by intermittent sconces hanging on the walls. Our footsteps echo tiny shuffles all around us. We arrive at a door, which Master Tran opens and gestures for us to go in. We enter the dimly lit room and see two guys sitting on mats. Their eyes light up when they see us and they jump to their feet.

“G’Day,” the younger one says as he rushes to greet us.

He actually said G’Day. I’m dying.

“I’m Aadam. Good to meetcha.” He points next to us, where two other bags are against the wall. “Setcha bags down.” He looks like a surfer, with spikey blonde hair, blue eyes, freckles and classic beach clothes.

The taller one introduces himself. “Nice to meet you. I’m Aren.” He’s got a full beard, and his long, dark hair is pulled up into a bun. His dark brown, almond-shaped eyes exude kindness and warmth. I see that his left arm is completely sleeved in tribal tattoos. When he moves to shake hands with me, his eyes catch above my head and follow all around me, his mouth slightly open in surprise.

“I take it you work with energy, too,” I say, smiling.

“It’s impressive, isn’t it?” Baron says to Aren.

“Can’t say I’ve ever seen one quite like that,” Aren says.

I silently applaud myself for understanding what sounded like
cahnt sigh I’ve evah seen wone qwaht layk thaht
. Most luscious accent, ever.

I lean closer to Baron and whisper, “Why are Aren and I not having an energy reaction like you and I have?”

“He must not be able to receive energy the way I can, so your energy isn’t recognizing him.”

The door shuts behind us and I see Master Tran has left us alone. “S-alright. He’ll be back in the morning to take us to Keb,” Aren says. “You can sleep if you want.” He gestures to a stack of mats and folded blankets. “Restrooms are just outside on the left.”