Wizard of the Crow (67 page)

“Yes.”

“You know, don’t you, that Tajirika’s wife beating took place after, not before, his release from police custody?”

“Yes.”

“And you know that it was only after he beat his wife that he himself was beaten?”

“Yes, by those women, certainly. With clenched fists, lashes, and open-handed blows,” Kaniürü added, laughing, as if giving an eyewitness account. “Powerful magic indeed.”

“This is no laughing matter.”

“I know, and that’s why I need a squad of plainclothes policemen to attack the shrine and arrest the Wizard of the Crow together with all those who work for him or who go there for healing. The police will then burn the place down. Witchcraft hates fire like nobody’s business. We need to act quickly, unexpectedly, before his magic can react.”

“Hold it. Not so fast. One thing at a time.”

“Yes, Minister.”

“Vinjinia: did she tell you that she herself went to the shrine?”

“Yes. And that’s why I believed her. Her tone betrayed no lie. She freely admitted that she had gone there in person to ask for help. Her admission is significant because, although many people of our class, like you and me, will go to see a sorcerer at night, they would never admit it, not even if you tortured them day and night.”

There was a pause, as if each was pondering what had just been said, while both considered their respective encounters with the Wizard of the Crow. Kaniürü himself had lied about his own visit to the wizard. And Sikiokuu was wondering, Does this Kaniürü know anything about my meeting with this Wizard of the Crow in my office? Who would have told him?

“Listen. We are not talking about the poor or the rich, this or that class. We are not communists. What I want to know is this: did Vin-jinia tell you that she and the Wizard of the Crow met face-to-face?”

“Yes.”

“You are very sure—
I mean,
that she said she had seen him with her own eyes?”

“Yes.”

“John, you are very highly educated, went to university?”

Kaniürü did not detect irony in the question. He took it as a compliment.

“Yes. And was later a lecturer,” Kaniürü said proudly, trying to embellish his educational achievements.

“And so you know the proverb that a woman’s word should be believed only after one has slept over it?”

“Yes, and that’s precisely why I didn’t bother to tell you about it right away. I wanted to review her claims to see if there were any holes in her story. I did not find any. I believe that I did tell you about my hunch that this Wizard of the Crow is the one mostly behind much of the strange things happening in this country. And if I may speak the truth and shame the Devil, that man has peculiar gifts. I don’t even understand why you did not arrest and detain him for questioning when I first told you about him. If you had done so we would have known quite a lot by now. Mr. Minister, give me the force I need and I will show them how to turn the Wizard of the Crow into a lamb.”

“And what if I told you that Vinjinia’s story is an impossibility, that the Wizard of the Crow could not have been involved, that he’s not even around?”

Kaniürü felt belittled, humiliated by this revelation. Sikiokuu had been toying with him. He was angry but directed his anger at the absent Vinjinia.

“When I catch that woman …”

“Don’t touch her,” Sikiokuu told him. “I asked you to look into the identity of the women who beat up Tajirika. Instead you kidnapped his wife. Kaniürü, I don’t need to remind you that this is the second time that we have detained this woman, and all because of your mistakes. Tajirika has been calling me and is understandably furious about the treatment of his wife; even I felt embarrassed by my lame
excuses. I don’t want to aggravate Tajirika further. I need his cooperation in other matters.”

Kaniürü was not exactly amused to hear that Tajirika now occupied a significant place in Sikiokuu’s scheme of things. Why is this minister changing like a chameleon? Was he about to dump him despite his loyal service? He fumed: he had no way of voicing how angry he was with Sikiokuu, Tajirika, and especially Vinjinia.

For a few seconds he recalled Vinjinia’s voice in the moonlight by the banks of the Red River, swearing by all that was most sacred to her that she was telling the truth when she told him that she had met with the Wizard of the Crow. He remembered testing her by asking her to describe the shrine, and she was able to tell him details of the place that he himself already knew.

“The Wizard of the Crow: where is he?” Kaniürü asked. “Is he dead, or …”

“You ask too many questions,” Sikiokuu snapped back. He was not very pleased with Kaniürü ‘s critical tone about his own dealings with the wizard. “Take my advice and give up the habit. And while you’re at it, please give up your belief in mirrors and fantasy. I want the women themselves, not their shadows,” Sikiokuu said, and hung up.

Sikiokuu hung up because he was on the verge of hysterics and thought better of laughing on the phone. He admitted to himself that the Wizard of the Crow had extraordinary powers. But the claim that the sorcerer had created living shadows that abducted people, put them on trial, slapped them around, punched them, bruised them—that was a little hard to swallow. Had the wizard created his shadows in America and sent them across the Atlantic to Aburiria? How had it been possible for him to be with the Ruler in New York and with Vinjinia in Eldares at the same time? And to think that Kaniürü had fallen for this? He stopped laughing when it suddenly crossed his mind that the Wizard of the Crow might not have boarded the plane for America. But he dismissed the thought as quickly as it
had come, for he remembered that Kahiga and Njoya had taken him to the airport, escorted him onto the Aburlrian plane, and waited until its ascent.

Then it occurred to him that he had never received confirmation of the sorcerer’s arrival in America. Sikiokuu decided to call America to dispel any doubts raised by Vinjinia’s allegations.

Sikiokuu hoped to also find out more about the Ruler’s condition. Who could predict what would happen in Aburlria were the illness to worsen? Would this ignite a coup d’etat? He felt uneasy thinking about illness, death, and succession. It was treason to even imagine these thoughts, and this revived his earlier fears that the Wizard of the Crow might have divined Sikiokuu’s secret wish for life at the top. Would the sorcerer whisper something about Sikiokuu’s treacherous desires in the Ruler’s ear? Success in treating the Ruler might result in the sorcerer’s being made a special physician to the leader. The sorcerer posed a threat. It was better to be informed and therefore to know the exact situation now rather than later.

He made the call to New York, and although he hated the very sound of his archrival’s voice, Sikiokuu had no choice but to ask to speak with Machokali, because it was he who had sent the e-mail in which the Ruler requested the Wizard of the Crow.

He could not believe what he was hearing. Was Machokali playing games? Lying to him, perhaps? This could not be. Machokali spoke with a mixture of sadness, anger, and even fatigue, unless of course he was pretending. He confirmed that the Wizard of the Crow had indeed arrived in America and had met with His Mighty Excellency once. But then he disappeared. He was nowhere to be found, yet nobody had seen him leave. His absence had been discovered only the day before, and no one could say for sure when he had vanished or even whether he was still in America.

The news of the sorcerer’s mysterious disappearance haunted Sikiokuu. Was the Wizard of the Crow back in the country? Perhaps even for a while? Was Vinjinia speaking the truth when she said that she had met with him, talked to him face-to-face? What were the implications of his ability to create living shadows? What if he created an army of shadows and took over the country now that he knew the extent of the Ruler’s illness? Oh, he’d forgotten to ask about the Ruler’s illness! Was the invisible wizard playing tricks with his mind?

He was shocked, yes, but was quick to realize the need to do
something about the situation. He remembered that even before the Wizard of the Crow left for America, he, Sikiokuu, had hatched plans to eliminate him. The Ruler’s sudden and unexpected summons of the wizard had interfered with the maturation of his plot. But now, with the confusion concerning the sorcerer’s whereabouts …

And suddenly Sikiokuu felt elated. God loves me, this I know, he murmured to himself. Now is the time to send the Wizard of the Crow to Hell, together with all of his sorcerer’s paraphernalia, including mirrors that might have captured or could capture images of Sikiokuu’s ambition. If he acted now, nobody would know exactly where, when, and how the Wizard of the Crow had met his fate, because apart from Vinjinia there was no other credible person who knew that the Wizard of the Crow was back in his shrine.

Or should he forge an alliance with the wizard? An army of shadows loyal to Sikiokuu? No, that would mean giving too much power to an unreliable sorcerer. No, Sikiokuu would instead have him secretly captured and brought to his office, where he would induce him, by guile and threats, to produce Nyawlra. Then he would have him fed to the hungry crocodiles of the Red River. Instead of using his loyal lieutenants Kahiga and Njoya to do the dirty work, these two being afraid of the Wizard of the Crow, Sikiokuu would use irregulars, and Kaniürü’s youthwingers fit the bill perfectly.

He was back on the phone to Kaniürü, and he made it seem as if he were simply calling to continue a previously interrupted conversation.

“Our line was cut off before I finished what I had to say” Sikiokuu started. “You know what our phone system is like. I hope a day will come when our telephones work as smoothly and efficiently as those in Japan and America. What was I saying before the connection was cut? That the Wizard of the Crow was not there then or now. But I have chewed over what you said, and here now is my thinking. Let us assume for the sake of argument that Vinjinia is speaking the truth, that she did indeed see and talk to the Wizard of the Crow. Gather a gang of trusted and reliable youth. Get me the Wizard of the Crow. Bring him to me alive. But take everybody else at the shrine, clients or workers, to the Red River. The crocodiles are sick with hunger.”

Kaniürü did not like the idea of leading a squad of thugs on a raid of the shrine. That’s why he had earlier asked for a police squad to
whom he could give orders while remaining in the background or, better yet, away from the scene altogether, in order to avoid the sorcerer’s curses.

“Why can’t … the police … Why don’t you give me a police squad armed with big hunting rifles—you know, the kind that can blow an elephant to smithereens.”

“Don’t you understand? We don’t want to announce what we are doing to the whole world; the government had nothing to do with it. It’s all off the record. So get your youth squad ready. I believe some of them are armed. But remember one thing: I want the Wizard of the Crow alive.”

Sikiokuu wanted many things from this final encounter with the Wizard of the Crow: the location of Nyawlra’s whereabouts, a full report on the Ruler’s illness, and a possible alliance. But there were lingering questions: When and how did the Wizard of the Crow escape from America? And why? Or had he been killed in New York and was now the object of a cover-up?

Not a day went by that Nyawlra did not miss Kamltl, but that morning she woke up aching for him so terribly that to assuage her sense of loss she put on the traditional clothes that she had worn on the night they returned to Eldares after their sojourn in the mountains. She dwelled obsessively on their return, her way of trying to find some peace. She took her guitar and played a little. A combination of the traditional wear and guitar as a modern instrument piqued her imagination, and she put it back on the wall, feeling better.

Later that morning, Nyawlra saw a woman, also dressed traditionally, coming through the gate. What a coincidence, she thought. Why did so many people feel that they had to dress in traditional wear on their visits to the shrine?

Nyawlra recognized Vinjinia! What brings her here? she wondered. Has her husband not given up beating her? And why is she
dressed that way? On previous occasions she had worn a simple dress with a
kanga
head and shoulder wrap.

“What do you want to tell the Wizard of the Crow today?” Nyawlra asked.

“Listen to me,” Vinjinia said. “Let’s go out and talk in the open, where we can see ourselves and what surrounds us.”

“Don’t be afraid! The Wizard of the Crow has many eyes.”

“Do you remember me from the other day?”

“Many come here and go. But I shall look at the mirror,” Nyawlra said.

She did not know what Vinjinia wanted. She had never seen her like this: speaking at once anxiously and assertively. Was her husband in pursuit of her? Vinjinia’s eyes were fixed on Nyawlra’s face, as if she were debating whether to trust it and say what had brought her to the shrine.

“Don’t trouble yourself. I am the same person who was here the other day to put an end to my husband’s violence.”

“Has he not stopped?”

“He has, at least for now.”

“So he heeded the elders I sent his way?”

“That’s why I have come to see you.”

“Don’t be afraid. Say whatever ails your heart.”

“The matter is a little urgent. I don’t want to talk behind closed doors in case
they
are already on
their
way here.”

“Who?”

Vinjinia glanced over her shoulder, then leaned forward.

“Kaniürü and his gang,” Vinjinia said in a tone that seemed to say: There, I have said it, come what may.

Fear struck Nyawlra, but she did not panic in case this was a trap.

“Kaniürü? Who is he?” Nyawlra asked, as if she were indifferent to the name. “But let us go outside if that will free your tongue.”

Nyawlra went inside to alert her fellow workers to be on the lookout. She then joined Vinjinia in the yard, both women dressed identically. They walked in silence toward the gate, as if one were seeing the other off. Suddenly Vinjinia stopped and looked at Nyawlra straight in the eye. Nyawlra was completely taken aback.