A Spider Comes Calling Read online

  “Jonas?” I asked. My astonishment overcame the bounds of decorum, and I grabbed at his arm, marveling at the jacket. Rather than his customary tattered scraps of material, the man was dressed as near to a gentleman as Jonas could be. “You’re wearing the clothes I gave you. Finally! And how splendid you look in them.”

  He snorted and muttered, “Me, I did tell you I’d wear them when I had reason to.” He gestured to his daughter who still refused to meet my gaze.

  “Well, you cut a very fine figure in that attire, Jonas,” Mr. Timmons said with warmth.

  Now it was Jonas who became shy before us. He scuffed his shoes — he was wearing shoes! — against the stone slabs as he lowered his head, but not before he cast a pleased smile at me. Then he recalled himself to the situation and straightened his shoulders, tugging at the hem of his new jacket with self-importance. “Yao, you have no business here.”

  Yao hissed in reply, “Yao has every business here.” Frowning, he leaned to me. “Is that correct?”

  Unsure if I should correct his grammar or his belief that he had a right to be there, I turned to the silent girl. “Wanjiru,” I said with utmost gentleness, not wishing to startle her further than my presence had clearly succeeded in doing. “You need not be concerned regarding Le-Eyo’s claim on you. You will shortly be free of it.”

  She remained silent. Only when her father nudged her and said something that sounded like a reprimand did she whisper, “Yes, thank you. I have been told.”

  “By whom?” I asked. Although it was irrelevant, I was curious how this information, known only to myself, Mr. Timmons and the insects, could have already been communicated.

  “By him,” Jonas replied and lifted his chin to indicate the doorway behind us.

  We turned and gasped in unison. Yao might have squeaked a bit, and for that I couldn’t blame him. Standing just outside the kitchen doorway with spear in hand was the God of Death himself, Le-Eyo. And he did not look pleased.

  Chapter 35

  YAO SIDLED UP to me and whispered loudly so as to be clearly audible, “He’s smaller than Yao remembers. And you?”

  While I didn’t respond, Mr. Timmons smirked in the affirmative, thus indicating our agreement on the matter of the God of Death’s diminished stature. No longer did he tower above us as he did in the Underworld; now he was a head shorter than Mr. Timmons and Yao. This fact seemed to please the Adze to no end, for he puffed up his chest and lifted his chin. Le-Eyo snarled and shifted his spear to angle toward us.

  Perhaps to compensate for his less than impressive height, Le-Eyo’s golden-tinged eyes and skin glowed in the dimly lit corridor. At the ends of his numerous ochre-stained braids, gold shells clinked against each other. He had replaced the black-and-red checkered blanket with a gold sheet wrapped around his waist. The lion pelt overwhelmed his shoulders, and he had to push back the lion head repeatedly or else it would sink over his eyes. The spear’s sharp metal tip glittered but no lethal bolts hurtled toward us. It seemed Anansi had instructed the sulking god to behave himself.

  “Wanjiru,” he called to the girl while snapping his fingers and staring over our heads, his features set in an imperiousness sneer. “Have you arrived at your answer? When shall we marry?”

  Yao groaned as if mortally wounded, his entire demeanor deflating. He placed both hands on one of my shoulders as if expecting me to support his collapsing weight. His talons tug into my skin as he sagged against me, moaning pitifully. It was all I could do not to swat him with my walking stick. I was restrained by a fleeting concern for Shelby for I didn’t wish to face Gideon’s ire if I allowed the little beast to fall out of my arms in order to correct Yao’s impropriety.

  “I cannot marry you,” the girl said in a soft voice.

  “Ha!” Yao shouted, releasing me from his grip and leaping into the air, a fist raised above his head. “Ha, ha!”

  Le-Eyo’s glow subsided, his face darkening. “What is this? This irreverent child denies my proposal?”

  Jonas stepped between his daughter and the enraged god. “She has spoken.”

  “Yes, she has,” Yao declared, performing a jiggling dance on the spot.

  “But thank you for the magnanimity and honor you have bestowed upon her and her family,” I hastened to add, for I didn’t know the extent of the injunctions Anansi had placed upon the god. Driven by concern not for social niceties but by the possibility that Le-Eyo might feel compelled to strike us down with the spear quivering in his clenched fist, I bobbed a curtsy to him. “We are all most grateful.”

  Miffed at the suggestion he should feel anything but triumphant, Yao demanded, “We are?”

  “Absolutely,” Mr. Timmons said, and Jonas echoed the sentiment.

  Somewhat mollified, Le-Eyo sneered, an expression that seemed to frequently grace his face. “This human girl isn’t worth the bother.”

  Before any of us, specifically Yao, could protest, Le-Eyo spun about and, with a wave of his arm, created a swirling vortex of gold into which he entered and vanished.

  Upon his departure, the level of light diminished as there were only a few windows in the kitchen. Yet the energy lifted, and after a moment’s quiet contemplation, we all breathed out in relief even as Yao continued to gloat, “Yao knew she wouldn’t marry that dolt.”

  “And she’s not going to marry another one, either,” Jonas said, although he was too pleased with the outcome of the day to hold onto any displeasure for more than a moment.

  “Well,” Mr. Timmons said as Yao bypassed Jonas to inquire after Wanjiru’s health and to congratulate her on her unmarried status. “I believe we are done here. Mrs. Timmons, shall we?”

  “We shall,” I replied. Arm in arm, we withdrew from the happy scene. “And I know what our next step must be.”

  “Oh?” Mr. Timmons said as he opened the front door for me. “Do you wish to visit Lilly and lecture her regarding the possible dangers Mrs. Cricket might pose to her if she enters the World of Shadows again?”

  “No, that’s for tomorrow. I think we’ve all experienced enough drama for the day.”

  “Then shall we plot out how you will rescue a certain dead poet?” he continued, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

  I smiled as I shook my head. “That too can wait but thank you for your offer of assistance.”

  Mr. Timmons stopped, spun me about and placed a hand to my forehead in mock concern. “Surely the indomitable Miss Knight must be succumbing to illness. How else can we explain this disinterest in the next intrigue, this willingness to postpone danger?”

  Giggling, I pushed aside his hand and squinted up at the silver hued sky. “Given that we successfully rescued Jonas’ daughter from Death and prevented a forced marriage, I feel justified in dismissing these concerns for another time.”

  “Well, Mrs. Timmons,” he said as we resumed our stroll through the damp grass, the air fresh and moist from a recent rain. “You have me stymied. Is there another mission about which you haven’t as yet informed me?”

  “Not at all,” I spoke with conviction and patted his arm. “The fact is that there’s only one course of action possible for the remainder of today. And it involves a large pot of tea.”

  Epilogue

  PERHAPS OPTING TO walk in the rain wasn’t the best of ideas. Then again, when had a little rain ever prevented me from venturing forth while I was living in London? The warm sun of East Africa had, I decided, spoiled me, and this was unacceptable. And after a full day and a bit more of enjoying a leisurely time in the cottage, I knew I would benefit from a change of scene.

  Having thus convinced myself, I sallied forth with a tattered umbrella in one hand and a monkey-filled basket in the other, with firm instructions to my living husband and my dead one to behave.

  I meandered beyond the Hardinge estate to the edge of the open grasslands. From that vantage point, I could see the remains of the footbridge that the river serpent, the Inkanyamba, had again destroyed. Farther afield, herds of zebra, antelop
e, water buffalo and giraffe grazed together. As I admired the view, the low hanging rainclouds drifted away, leaving the air drenched with the clean, crisp scents of flowers, rich soil, herbs and ozone. It was the ozone that alerted me, for there had been no lightning that morning.

  As if my thoughts had willed him into being, Kam appeared from behind a thorn tree and strode toward me, his large, muscular frame flowing with the grace of a giant cat through the waist-high grass. The energy markings on his dark skin, not readily visible to most people, shifted with an unusual agitation. That and his countenance, grim and determined, did not bode well for my newly acquired peace of mind.

  There was no avoiding him so I waited for him to reach me. Upon doing so, he glanced at the basket hanging from the crook of my arm, and his eyes widened. Such a reaction from him was akin to another person jumping and shouting.

  “It’s Gideon’s monkey,” I explained, unwilling to take credit or blame for Shelby’s presence in my life.

  Quirking an eyebrow, he stared into my eyes, ignoring the monkey. In his gravelly voice that was reminiscent of thunder, he said, “Do not search for Liongo.”

  “Why ever not?” I demanded without thought, even though I would prefer very much to assent to his suggestion. My reaction was more an objection to being entangled in the machinations of others yet again, a situation that I didn’t appreciate.

  Kam peered down at me, his full lips pressed firmly together. I allowed the silence to stretch and deepen around us for I knew that the taciturn Lightning God would not be pressured into speaking. Only the chirps of insects and birds interjected themselves into our wordless conversation.

  Glancing up at the sky as if searching for inspiration or a random lightning bolt to throw at my head, Kam sighed. “The poet is my father.”

  “Well,” I said and paused, unsure how to proceed. Did I extend my condolences for the death of the father? Or congratulations that we could now resurrect him, in a manner of speaking? Instead, I gave voice to the more pertinent question. “Then why would you possibly object to Anansi’s project?”

  Kam shifted his penetrating gaze to me, staring down his long nose, his features unflinching. “You do not comprehend the nature of Anansi’s request.”

  I shrugged, causing Shelby to squeal in protest as she burrowed deeper into the swinging basket. “Then explain it to me. Use simple words so this mere mortal can comprehend the complexities of the situation.”

  A rare smile graced Kam’s handsome face, as fleeting as the sun on a stormy afternoon. “Another time, perhaps. As for my objections…” Again, he gazed up to the sky, and I did likewise.

  “What are they?” I gasped.

  We watched as two giant serpentine creatures wove themselves around the clouds far above us, their scales glittering with color.

  “They are the Rainbow Serpents,” Kam murmured with what I could only describe as affection. “Damballa and Aiya Weddo. They participated in the creation of the world and are mounts for the gods.”

  While I couldn’t comprehend why anyone would desire to ride a serpent, I could appreciate their beauty. “They’re lovely, as far as snakes go. What are they doing?”

  “They are cleaning the air, as they do after every storm,” Kam replied. “I murdered him.”

  “The snake?” I asked, lowering my chin until my gaze met Kam’s. I shivered as a moist breeze blew across my face.

  “No.” He paused and tilted his head, frowning while pulling at the ends of the long grass with both hands. “Liongo. I killed Liongo.”

  Rainbow snakes forgotten, I stared at Kam who returned my amazed expression with unflinching calm. Disconcerted by the admission of such a terrible crime, I blurted out, “You murdered your father?”

  “Yes.”

  I exhaled sharply. “That might explain why you don’t want us to bring him back.”

  Kam nodded at the understatement, appearing as if he’d admitted to nothing more heinous than plucking a flower off a bush. Only the restless movement of his hands against the grass indicated differently. “I had my reasons. It was for the best and still is.”

  “But you realize that I have no choice in the matter,” I added.

  “Yes, you do,” he said. “You can choose to say no.”

  “And expose Lilly and her baby to Anansi?” I retorted. “That’s hardly a viable choice.”

  “No, it’s not,” Kam interjected before I could continue. “Neither is bringing Liongo back to life. He would cause more problems than he’d solve.”

  “We seem to be at an impasse then,” I said, wondering into what web I had stumbled. “Unless you can provide me with a more convincing rationale, apart from murderous sentiments toward your father, I have to proceed as planned.”

  “Of course,” Kam said, his words rumbling around me. “You will do what you must, as will I.”

  Before I could demand an explanation, he vanished in a bolt of lightning and a puff of ozone. Blinking away the bright dots from my sight, I peered down at Shelby, dumbfounded.

  “The nerve,” I said. “He waves about a vague threat and then doesn’t bother to wait for my rebuttal! That’s terribly rude, you know.”

  Shelby yawned, her brown eyes disinterested, and scratched behind her ear with soft, little fingers that were remarkably human in shape and movement. This similarity added to her appeal.

  “I do hope you don’t have fleas,” I chided her as I stroked her soft fur. “I’ve no intention of picking them out.”

  As there was nothing else to do, I decided that I had partaken sufficient quantities of fresh air and godly threats. Mr. Timmons would of course want to know about my latest altercation with Kam, and I had only a few days before Koki would return. If I had to choose with whom to side, would it be Kam or Anansi?

  “Talk about jumping from the kettle into the fire,” I muttered. Sadly and disturbingly, the thought of a kettle did nothing to distract me from my conundrum. “It’s definitely time to return home, Shelby. Let’s hope Mr. Timmons has some constructive ideas on the issue and that you don’t have fleas.”

  On this optimistic note, I set off for the cottage. Above me, the serpents finished cleaning up the air. They vanished and in their place, gracing the sky and offering hope for a more peaceful and prosperous future, were two rainbows.

  Read on to find out what was Fact and what was Fiction

  But before you do:

  1. Are you interested in FREE books? Get That Night in Lagos, the prequel to this series, plus a compendium about African paranormals for FREE from my website (http://veredehsani.co.za/free-books/).

  2. Beatrice Knight’s adventures continue in Case 7: Stones of Nairobi. You can buy it from various bookstores (http://veredehsani.co.za/book7-epub).

  Facts & Fiction

  FOR THOSE WITH little appetite remaining for historical matters, skip this section and go directly to the next, to learn how you can collect your free books!

  For the rest of you, allow me to clarify what parts of this story are based on some semblance of reality. Below are the facts as I understand them, and the fictional aspects pointed out.

  Fact: Legends of vampires, fairies, shape shifters, dwarves and dragons can be found among many of the African tribes. In Case 6, Miss Knight encounters a few of these creatures: the horse-headed serpent Inkanyamba from the Zulu tribe; the Abatwa, an ant-riding fairy folk from Central Africa; the Sasabonsam, a ridiculously tall vampire with huge, bat wings (I’m not sure if it’s as enamored with wolves as it was in my version, but I rather enjoyed the image of a giant vampire being all sweet with a pet); and the Rainbow Serpents Damballa and Aiya Weddo.

  Fact: I agree with Mrs. Knight. As lovely as the Rainbow Serpents are, I wouldn’t want to ride them.

  Fiction: Le-eyo was the Maasai God of Death. He was told by the god Ngai that he must say a prayer whenever a child dies so that the child would come back to life. When a child died that was not his own, Le-eyo said a prayer for the child to remain dead but the moon
to return. This is the reason that when men die, they do not return, but when the moon dies, it returns the next night.

  Fact: Whenever the heavy rains begin, beware the flying ants. Close the windows, turn off the lights, or else your house will be invaded by a swarm of the creatures. In the morning, you’ll find their discarded wings all over the floor but where their bodies go is a mystery. They’re not actually ants but termites. However, they’re often referred to as white ants because of their pale color.

  Fact: The location of Mrs. Knight’s meeting with Anansi and Koki is a real place. Mt. Suswa is a small, dormant volcano in the Great Rift Valley, located between Narok and Nairobi. The mountain is known for its lava tube caves.

  Fact: The Baboon Court also exists as I’ve described. Every night, the baboons descend into the court where they congregate and sleep. The top of the boulders are rubbed smooth and shiny from generations of baboon bodies. To reach the cave, you must climb a rough path up the mountainside and down through a small patch of forest.

  Fiction: I never met a giant spider when attending the Baboon Court.

  Fact: The real-life Dr. Ribeiro was given a parcel of land for the services he rendered the colony during the Plague. The government gave him a concession of sixteen acres of land in the township. However, Europeans were given much more for their services.

  Fact: Case 6 takes place in mid-April of 1900. Before this date in history, there had been a decade of below-average rainfall followed by three years of severe drought. The drought, as well as a bovine disease, devastated the Maasai herds. By 1900, exceptionally heavy rains began to restore the waterways.

  Fact: The heavy rains washed away a temporary bridge over Stony Athi River south of Nairobi nine times in five months.

  Fiction: The destruction of the bridge was not caused by an unhappy water serpent.