“Why didn’t Aro come?”
“Why do you care?”
“He’s my Master and I . . .”
“Why not ask why your mother could not come? That is more logical, no?”
I didn’t know what to say to this.
“Aro doesn’t have that ability,” Sola said. “He cannot quickly cover distance. That’s not his center. His skills lie elsewhere. So buck up. Stop whining. Tell me about your silly actions.” He snapped his dry fingers for me to get on with it.
I frowned. It’s difficult to tell something to someone who’s already deemed it silly. I told them everything I remembered, except my suspicions about it being the actual Creator who brought me back the first time.
“How long have you known that Daib was your father?” Sola asked.
“Months now,” I said. “Mwita and I . . . something happened. We’ve met him before. It’s the third time I’ve traveled like this.”
“The first time, I was the one who attacked him,” Mwita said. “The man is . . . was my Master.”
“What?” Ssaiku said loudly. “How can that be?”
“Sha,”
Sola whispered. “So it comes together now.” He chuckled. “These two share the same ‘father.’ One is Daib’s biological offspring and the other is his student. It’s a sort of metaphorical incest. What isn’t immoral about these two?” He chuckled again.
Ting was looking at Mwita and me with wide fascinated eyes.
“What has Daib become?” Mwita asked. “I spent years with him. He’s as ambitious as he is powerful. A man like that
always
grows.”
“He’s grown like a cancer, a tumor,” Sola said. “He is like palm wine to the Palm Wine Drunkard in the Great Book, except that the intoxication Daib creates causes men to do unnatural violence. Nuru and Okeke are so like their ancestors. If I could wipe this land of you all and let the Red People roam and multiply, I would.”
I wondered, what people Sola was of and if they were any better than the Okeke or Nuru. I strongly doubted it. Even the Red People weren’t perfect.
“Let me tell you both about your . . . ‘father,’ ” Sola said. “He is the one who will bring death to your precious East. He gathers thousands of men still crazed from the ease of wiping out so many Okekes in the West. He’s convinced them that greatness lies in spreading. Daib the Military Giant. Mothers and fathers name their firstborn sons after him. He is also a powerful sorcerer. He is serious bad news.
“His words aren’t bravado. He
will
succeed and his followers
will
see the fruits of their labor. First he’ll finish off the few Okeke rebels left. Before they die, they too will be corrupted. They’ll die evil. Mwita can tell us how it is already happening, no?
“Some of these villages are valuable. Some have been allowed to manage crops like corn and palm trees. The Okeke managers of these crops have gathered a little power for their good work. They will lose it all dying or fleeing. Daib does this as we speak. Gradually, Okekes will be fully wiped from the kingdom. The only ones kept will be the most broken slaves. Very soon, it could be two weeks, maybe less, Daib will start leading the Nuru military east to seek and destroy the exiles.
“It will, quite simply, be a revolution. I’ve seen it in the bones. Once it starts, once those groups of armed Nuru boys and men leave their kingdom, you won’t be able to stop it. You’ll be too late.”
As if I could stop it regardless,
I thought. Hadn’t I just nearly gotten myself killed trying?
Sola looked at Ssaiku. “You all seem to have the right idea in these parts. Keep moving and hiding.”
Ssaiku frowned at the insult but said nothing. Ting looked angry.
“I know much about Daib,” Sola said, pinching his chin. “Should I tell you?”
“Yes,” Mwita said in a strained voice.
“He was born in the Seven Rivers town of Durfa to a woman named Bisi. The woman was Nuru but she was born dada, imagine that. Unheard of. Had hair so long that by the time she was eighteen it was dragging on the ground. She was a creative soul, so she liked to decorate her dreadlocks with glass beads. She was tall like a giraffe and loud like a lion. She was always shouting about how women were treated badly.
“It is because of Bisi that women in Durfa now receive educations. She started that school that everyone wants to be in. In secret, she helped many Okekes escape during a rash of Okeke riots. She was one of the very few who rejected the Great Book. She lived up to the dreadlocks on her head. The dada-born are usually free thinkers.
“No one knows who the father was, for no one ever really saw Bisi with one particular man. It is rumored that she had many many lovers but it’s also rumored that she had none. Regardless, one day her belly started growing. Daib was born during a normal day. There was no great storm or crash of lightning or burning corncob in the sky. I know all of this because this man was and always will be my student.”
I jumped as if kicked in the spine. Next to me Mwita cursed loudly.
“Bisi brought him to me when he was ten. I suspect she was able to contact me because she was born with tracking abilities. I never asked her. I also suspect that when she gave birth to him, she must have been thinking deeply about the state of the Seven Rivers Kingdom. It must have disgusted her. And she wished with all her heart that her son would make a change. She asked for him to be a sorcerer.
“Anyway, she told me that she’d seen him change into an eagle, that goats would follow and obey him. Small things like that. Daib and I had an immediate connection. The moment I saw him, I knew he’d be my student. For twenty years, he was my child, my son. I will not go into the details. Just know that it was right and then it went wrong. So you must see it now. Your father, Mwita’s Master, and my student,” Sola said. Then he sang, “Three is the magic number. Yes it is. It’s the magic number.” He smirked, “I knew Daib’s mother well. She had lovely hips and a mischievous smile.”
I shivered at the thought of him bedding my grandmother. Again I wondered just how human Sola was. “So what am I to do,
Oga
Sola?” I asked.
“Rewrite the Great Book,” he said. “Don’t you know that?”
“But how do I
do
that
, Oga
Sola? The idea doesn’t even make sense! And you say we only have two weeks? You can’t rewrite a book that is already written and known by thousands of people. And it’s not even the book that is making people behave this way.”
“Are you sure about that?” Sola coldly asked. “Have you
read
it?”
“Of course I have,
Oga
,” I said.
“Then you have understood the images of light and dark? Beauty and ugliness? Clean and dirty? Good and evil? Night and day? Okeke and Nuru? See?”
I nodded, but I felt I needed to look at the book again to further connect the dots. Maybe I could find the something I needed to take down my father.
“No,” he said. “Leave the book now. You know what you have to do. You just haven’t brought it forward in your mind yet. That’s why he was able to humiliate you the way he did. You better figure it out soon, though. My only advice is this: Mwita, keep her from going
alu
. It’ll take her right to Daib again. He’ll kill her swiftly now. The only reason he didn’t before was because he wanted her to suffer. Whatever happens between her and Daib
must
happen on its own time, not
alu
time.”
“But how do I stop her?” Mwita asked. “When she goes, she just goes.”
“You’re the one she belongs to, figure it out,” Sola said.
Ting elbowed me to keep my mouth shut.
Sola pursed his lips. “Now, woman, you’ve jumped an important hurdle. You’ve been unlocked. Many envy what we can do but if they knew what it took to be what we are, few would want to join the ranks.” He looked at Mwita. “Few.” He looked at Ting. “This woman here has trained for nearly thirty years. You, Onyesonwu, haven’t even gotten a decade in. You’re a baby, yet you have this task. Beware of your ignorance.
“Ting knew her center early. It is in these juju scripts. You, I suspect, will focus on your Eshu side, changing and traveling. But you lack control. No one can help you with that.” He snapped his fingers and seemed to whisper to someone. Then he said, “We’re through with this palaver.” He smiled broadly. “I’m not hungry but I want to taste Vah cuisine, Ssaiku. And where are your town’s old women? Bring them, bring them!”
He laughed raucously and so did Ssaiku. Even Mwita looked amused.
“Onyesonwu, Ting, go to Chieftess Sessa’s tent and bring us the food she has prepared,” Ssaiku said. “And tell those who wait there that their company is eagerly requested.”
Ting and I quickly left the tent. I didn’t care how much my body protested at the fast movement, I’d have done anything to get out of there. Once outside, we walked slowly as I tried to hide my slight limp.
“I think they wish to speak with Mwita alone,” Ting said.
“Right,’ I said.
“I know,” Ting said. “They’re old and have the same problem. But it’s changing.”
I grunted.
“Sola laughed at me when I first came to him . . . until he threw his bones and got the shock of his life,” Ting said. “Then Sola had to convince Ssaiku about me.”
“How did you . . . find Sola?”
“Woke up one day, knew what I wanted and where to find him, and found him. I was only eight.” She shrugged. “You should have seen his face when I entered his tent. Like I was a pile of rotten goat feces.”
“I think I know the look. He’s so white. Is he . . . is he human?”
“Who knows,” she said laughing.
“Do . . . do you think when the time comes that I’ll know what to do? As you did?”
“You’ll find out soon.” She looked at my ankle. “Maybe you should go sit down. I’ll bring the food.”
I shook my head. “I’m okay. You just hold the heavier plates.”
Mwita, Ting, and I didn’t eat with Sola and Ssaiku. I was relieved. Sola didn’t look up once the food was set before him. Heaps of everything, even egusi soup, something I hadn’t had since we’d left Jwahir. The three of us made a quick exit as soon as the two started to eat and talk about the breasts and backgrounds of the old women who were soon to arrive.
It took us nearly a half hour to get back to our campsite because of my ankle. I refused to lean on Mwita or Ting. When we got there we found Luyu sitting alone. She’d unbraided and brushed out her Afro. Even in her sorrow, she was lovely. I froze, looking at Mwita, who was looking at the two spaces where Diti and Fanasi’s tents had been. A look of complete and utter disgust passed over his face. “You can
not
be serious,” he said. “They
left?
”
Luyu nodded.
“When?! During the . . . when Ting was saving Onyesonwu’s life? They
left?
”
“I found out, right after you left,” I said. “Then Sola came . . .”
“How could he?” Mwita shouted. “He knew . . . I told him so much . . . and he still ran off? Because of
Diti?
That
girl?
”
“Mwita!” Luyu exclaimed getting up. Ting chuckled.
“You don’t know,” Mwita said. “You’ve just been having intercourse with him, with men, you and Diti, like rabbits.”
“Eh!”
Luyu exclaimed. “It takes a woman
and
man to . . .”
“He and I spoke like brothers,” he said, ignoring her. “He said he understood.”
“Maybe he did,” I said. “But that doesn’t make him the same as you.”
“He had nightmares about the killings, the torture, the rapes. He said he had a duty. That change was worth dying for. Now he runs off because of a woman?”
“Wouldn’t you?” I said.
He looked me square in the face, his eyes wet and red. “No.”
“You came because of me.”
“Don’t bring us into this,” he said. “
You’re
tied to it, you’ll die in it. I’ll die for you. This isn’t only about us.”
I froze. “Mwita, what do you mean . . .”
“No,” Ting spoke up. “Hold your tongue. All of you. Stop this.”
Ting took my cheeks in her warm hands. “Listen to me,” she said. As I looked into her brown eyes, tears fell fast from mine. “Enough answers. This isn’t the time, Onye. You’re exhausted, you’re overwhelmed. Rest. Leave it alone.” She turned to Mwita. “There are three of you left. It’s right. Let it go.”
Somehow I slept that night. Mwita’s body was pressed to mine and my belly was full from the small feast Ting brought us. Still, it was in this sleep that the dreams started. Of Mwita flying away. The dream was of Mwita and me on a small island with a small house. All around us was so much water. The ground was soft with it and covered with tiny green water plants. Mwita sprouted wings with brown feathers. Without even a kiss, he flew away, never looking back.
CHAPTER 52
WE LEFT SSOLU IN THE DEEPEST PART OF NIGHT. Chieftess Sessa, Chief Usson, Ssaiku, and Ting accompanied us.
“You’ll have an hour, so move quickly,” Ssaiku said, as we passed all the tents for the last time. “If you’re caught when I resume the storm, bear down and keep moving.”
I heard the sound of small feet. “Eyess!” Chieftess Sessa hissed. “Go back to bed!”
“But Mommy, she’s leaving!” Eyess shouted in tears. Her loud voice woke several people in nearby tents. Ting cursed to herself.
“Go back to bed, everyone, please,” Chief Usson said.
People came out anyway. “Can’t we say good-bye, chief?” a man asked. Chief Usson sighed and reluctantly assented. More whispering and gathering. Within a minute, there was a large crowd.
“We know where they’re going,” a woman said. “Let us at least see them off.”
“We’ve enjoyed having Onyesonwu here,” another woman said. “Strange as she is.”
Everyone laughed. More people gathered, their bare feet whispering over the sand.
“We’ve enjoyed her beautiful friend Luyu, too,” a man said. Several men agreed and everyone laughed again. Someone lit sticks of incense. After several moments, as if someone had given a cue, they all began to sing in Vah. The song sounded like a chorus of snakes and it carried easily over the noise of the storm. They didn’t smile as they sang. I shivered.