67

He bites his lip, mulling over my words. “I suppose. But it doesn’t make sense. My grandparents love the throne too much. My parents knew I would have to be killed.”
“Even more reason to have a baby.” I meet his gaze. “yer parents were trying to give both yer maternal and paternal grandparents common love. A common ground. A grandchild.”
“Yeah, well, their plan didn't work, now did it?”
“ya've got to admit, it was a great plan but why would they risk having a child?”
He shrugs. “Search me.”
“Where they lifemates?”
“Ja.” He nods. “Where Gods are concerned, only lifemates can have a baby.”
I touch his cheek and he leans into me. “I think yer parents wanted their union to be accepted. I think they loved each other so much that they thought should they have ya, the two Rori rulers would put their differences aside and join the kingdoms. ya are what connects them.”
He glares past my shoulder, his mind taking him someplace else. “ya know what? ya're right.”
Suddenly, we're no longer floating but past the Evil forest. A walk that would've taken us hours only took us minutes.
“This way,” he says, walking down the trail.
I jog to catch up with him.
As we pass and turn our backs on the welcome sign to Shadowy and enter a whole new territory, I realise that all the houses from this part of the village are huge, tall and beautiful. There are only three of them. One for each gatekeeper.
D’ziko then takes the road twisting eastward, which leads us to the rough roads that eventually take us to the building forest and then the trees shied away to allow room for the only street that houses the mansion the Werewolf calls home.
We jog up to it. The curvy road is lined with all indigenous kinds of flowers – the range is wider than any I’ve seen in a flower shop.
Wilder than my garden. And that's saying something.
We stop at a huge metal gate that has the letters W.R engraved in the middle.
Why a werewolf would stay at such a huge house is beyond me. Don't wolves live in the woods. I mean werewolves?
“W.R?” I asked.
“Whele. I don't know what the R stands for,” D’ziko answers automatically as though he’s been waiting for me to ask the question.
The gates part presenting a pallid, rectangular, elegant four-story mansion that sets guided by white and purple lilies and red roses. The space is wide and open as we walk up to the porch. He stops a few feet away though. A fish pond stretches out over the third length of the house. The windows are all wall high, the sliding doors are dark, allowing no view of the decor from the outside.
What does a wolf do with all this? I can't imagine him sitting in the patio, bird watching. I can't even imagine him tending to the roses nor feeding the fishes in the pond. What if the fish aren't pet? What if it's his lunch.
Oh Gods! I feel sick.
“Ya alright?” D’ziko asks, placing a hand on my forehead. “Ya don't look so good.”
I shrug and his hand falls back in its place. “I don't feel it either.”
“ya want to go home?”
“Don't be silly.”
“I'm serious.” He's not impressed. “Ya look so purple.”
I push past him and ask what I should’ve asked the second we got here. "The werewolf lives here?"
"Maybe I got the wrong address." He teases--actually that would make more sense. “For the past two decades. Ja.”
I smile regardless. “I'd move here for the pure nature. My! Just look at those roses.”
He returns my smile and i can't help staring. Wishing to claw the mask away. He says, “I wonder what Whele would say about that.”
I’m suddenly very aware of where I an. Anxiety has crept up on me.
He can sense my tension as he leads me to the double doors. He takes my hand and squeezes it. His warmth blankets me at once.
“Don’t worry I’m here.”
“I’m more worried about making a good impression.”
Since my last wasn't so...impressive. I tried to drug him. Which is exactly why I’m here. Which is exactly why I shouldn't be here.
I swear his eyes roll so hard they come right out of their sockets. “ya’ll be great. They’re just the Gatekeepers.”
Gatekeepers I tried to drug. I'm here to find out why they pretended to be sedated.
“That’s exactly the problem,” I say. “ya didn’t give me enough time to prepare for today…ya didn’t tell me we’re coming here.”
“They’re just as nervous as ya are.” He mumbles. And opens the door. He's just as nervous. “But I know ya’ll charm the fur off his body.”
Ew. That is not a great mental image. What do ya call a hairless werewolf?
Inside it is spectacular of course, the colour so rich but yet gentle on the eyes, it is how I normally imagine a wedding venue; very spacious.
His family of sorts –the werewolf, minokawa and the mermaid– is all waiting to greet us.
I’ve seen them all before but I can’t help but be struck by their tan features and their stalling youth. They all smile in welcome, their eyes warm. Except the wolf.
He looks awed. Proud…?
O...kay...?
“I didn’t know mermaids can stay this long out of sea. Aren’t they like fish?” I blurt out to D’ziko, regretting the words as soon as they escape my lips.
I look up, back at them to see if I've offended her but they are laughing. “I'm sorry,” I mumble, half embarrassed.
"Imani, Whele, ya already know of course," D’ziko’s voice is low but I know even the minokawa soaring near the ceiling can hear him. "My water mother Mam’lambo, and that's my Sky-Brother, K’Nyamba.
"Pleased to finally officially meet ya Imani," Mam’lambo steps forward as she speaks, her steps measured and calculated, trying not to frighten me I guess.
"Nice to meet ya too, Gatekeeper Mam’lambo."
I lift my hand to shake hers but she kisses me on the cheek and then mumbles, “I don’t do handshakes.” Before hugging me.
K’Nyamba drops from the ceiling at high speed. Leza, help me. I'm about to die. The damn bird won't be able to stop in time. He'll crush into me. I close my eyes, anticipating.
A minute wastes away.
I open my eyes. He’s reaching for my hand, a smile plastered on his face.
"I’m glad to see ya again, under different circumstances Miss. Ntola." he says, voice thick with implications.
Leza, they know. They know what I did. Why did they help me?
"Likewise.” I mumble under my breath.
The three people in the room turn to Whele, eyeing him cautiously. He's standing so far away now. He looks terrified.
"Hi, Imani." My name sounds like a delicate flower in his voice. He takes ownership of it, as though he knows what it means. As though he means what it says.
One second he's across the room, the next he's standing directly in front of me. How'd he get to me so fast?
He leans forward to pick me up by my arms as though I am a toddler.
Mam’lambo and K’Nyamba are now staring at him with wide eyes.
And so am I.
Whele twirls around once and sets me on my feet. “Ya remind me so much of yer mother. Gods! Ya just as beautiful.” He sniffs me once, twice and exhales. “Smell just like her, too. How is she anyway?”
I stop breathing, questions exploding in my head. How does he know my mother? How could he possibly know what she smells like? And why the hell is he looking at me like that?
D'ziko’s expression is unreadable, his eyes careful, watchful.
I frown. “Mama’s okay.”
“Yer brother? Is’da boy good?”
My frown deepens. So he knows all my family? “Couldn't be better.”
He smiles. “I'm glad.” He means it.
I stare at D'ziko staring at Whele, staring at me.
“It’s nice to meet ya all,” I mumble.
“Thank ya for coming,” Whele says. His eyes don't stray from me.
He's making me nervous. Why is he so creepy?
To avoid his eyes, I stare at the far east wall lined with top to bottom paintings in various shades of colours. This is how I imagine an art gallery would be like.
“Do ya paint?” Whele asks, noticing my preoccupation.
I shake my head. “My drawing expertise are limited to circles, somehow my squares manage to look like triangles with ears.”
D'ziko snickers.
I shoot him a glare.
He laughs; Whele smiles warmly at the pair of us.
We go silent. Whele doesn't stop stealing glances at me. I might as well ask him how he knows my mother? How he hurt her? Was it an accident? Did they cross paths while she was in the forest? Why was she in the forest to begin with?
Mam’lambo clears her throat. “That’s D'ziko’s collection.”
“Oh. ya collect art?” I ask.
Why didn't he say anything?
“Actually, D'ziko painted those himself.” Whele is smug.
“Really?” I ask, walking toward the wall. D'ziko is half a step behind me.
At the top corner is a pencil drawing of Whele but in the picture he has dirty fur, a tail and horns.
“ya like it?” he asks, standing behind me.
My heart is thumping. He's so close.
“Whele approved of this?”
D’ziko laughs and brings his arms around me. I lean into him.
“He loves it actually.”
“Oh?”