71

I rip the carriage door open and storm to the house. My parents, King Father and Queen Mother and the elders are talking quietly but frantic in the foyer. I catch a few phrases: Goddess Imani, Essence Thief, Shadows, Whele.
Their hissing stops and they look expectantly at me.
I know they're waiting for me but I don't care. I know they want to know about tonight but it can wait. I know they're worried. Well...good, they should be.
I don't acknowledge their nods. I need to get to my sword long before the Essence can. My real sword. I press the elevator button and wait. And then wait some more.
Then seconds later I decide the stairs will have to do. I ran down the hallway, past the crowd awaiting me, and there’s a loud, “Imani!” but
I’m already blazing up the stairs.
“Imani Ntola, get yer flat behind back here,” Mama says from the foot of the stairs.
Papa stands behind her. His hands on her shoulder. “People are freaking out. They need answers.”
“And they'll get them but not now!” I yell back.
I hear footsteps chasing after me. I turn to look at Sir Ayize and anyone else who might be thinking of following me.
“Don't even think about following me. Any of ya. I will kill anyone that tries." I ran the rest of the way to my room and tear through my closet, searching. Phew. My silencer is still safe. It blinks the familiar red as I touch my fingertips to it. A surge of electricity goes through me. I sigh and lock it away.
The door creaks open and then just as loudly clicks shut.
There is a defining silence that lasts for a moment.
I sigh, irritated and turn toward the door. There’s no one. My eyes scan the room. I’m alone.
"Hello?" My voice is shaky.
"Imani," a familiar male voice says. It is quiet, low. And yet it is the kind of voice that would make people uneasy.
“Who’s there?” My voice is barely above a whisper.
The lights go off, and I whip my head to the switch, a large rough hand abruptly covers my lips.
I'm rooted in spot.
I can't even scream.
“Be very still and do exactly as I say.” The voice is still very familiar as it continues in that low, persuasive tone — the kind of voice actors use in a love scene.
It is mesmerizing in an odd... terrifying way. The silence is too eerie. As eerie as the moment a murderer in a horror film is about to make its dramatic debut appearance. Only this moment is a hundred times more chilling.
I wait. My lungs threatening to explode with panic.
When he speaks again it is very slowly, stretching out each syllable. “When ya see me, do not scream, do not try to run — that will only make me mad. Just look into my eyes.”
It is quiet for a second. Then everything goes blank.
I stare at my hands. My mind is foggy, unclear, like I’m forgetting something important and then a small compelling command reaches my consciousness — ya have to make sure lover boy doesn't follow, ya have to pretend ya're sick. ya have to act normal.
It is only a dream, I realize. Or is it?
Slowly-- too slowly-- the fog starts to vanish, my mind focusing again. Was I dreaming? It sure feels like I was but it is one of those dreams that refuses to be remembered in full.
A shiver of unease rolls through me. The room is unusually dark. I glance out of the window. There are dark, misty, clouds hanging low enough to touch. But the fog outside gives no indication whether it is day or night.
The time reads four forty-five. Oh, so it’s morning then.
A training day.
The kitchen is messy, unusual. The maids always collect the dishes the night before but there is a dirty bowl of cereal on the sink. There’s also a glass of unfinished wine on the table, the servants and under sixteens aren't allowed to drink and the adults don't have this staff unless it is the weekend. Who the hell would be bold enough to mess about in my room? And there is even a cigarette butt still burning near the door.
My stomach twists with uncertainty. Maybe it wasn't a dream. Has someone been at my room? But who?
"Hello?" I ask breathlessly.
Silence answers back. I sigh in irritation. I get a trash bag and load the contents of the glass and bowl into it. When I’m done with the dishes and putting back everything where it belongs, my bedroom looks familiar, recognisable. Clean.
I fish out a bowl, some cereal ,and warm some goat milk. With the milk and cereal in the bowl, I pull a chair and sit at the table, not sure how long I'll remain sane without knowing what is going on but I don't want to worry Kaseke over nothing.
He might help.
Breathe.
Nothing is wrong.
ya're being paranoid.
Half an hour passes. My cereal has turned to chocolate pudding by now. I sit at the very edge of my seat, agitated. I will give it another thirty minutes until I wake Kaseke up. He will know what to do. He has to.
There is a knock at the window and I blink swiftly, pushing back my chair hastily, and running up to the window, it must be D’ziko.
It is him but I feel no relief, no sense of belonging like I normally do when I see him. I don’t feel like I've just been rewarded with the gift of air, like I was suffocating and he is my only remedy. Instead I feel nervous and a stabbing pain shoots through my chest and leaves it gaping open.
"Imani, are ya alright?” he asks, his voice anxious. "ya look pale."
"I think I have a headache," I say. My head hurts with a sudden jolt. It feels like I've been struck by lightning.
I push back the anxiety, something — a memory tries to break through my consciousness but a much more powerful force, a much stronger one blocks it.
D'ziko nods once, turning back on his heels and heads the opposite direction, down the hall with a command for me to wait for him.
Tears of frustration well up in my eyes. What is so important but I can't remember?
"Imani...?” His frantic voice reaches me before his face appears around the corner. “I hate it when ya cry. Is it that bad, yer headache? Do ya want me to take ya to the forest?”
I shake my head. The last thing I want to do right now is to see the mother dog. It's just a headache.
He makes me swallow izora — for a split second that seems much longer than it really is, I I deliberate.
"Would ya like some water?”
“No.” My voice is lifeless. I turn away from his sharp gaze and force a smile. "I just need ya to hold me. Just hold me really tight."
D'ziko doesn’t hesitate; he envelopes me in his strong, comforting arms.
“Tighter,” I say. I breathe in the smell of him.
"We have to get ya to training..." he reminds me. "We're going to be late.”
“We…?”
“ I'm not leaving ya alone, not now that I know shadows are after ya.”
"I just... I want ya to know that I don't regret meeting ya. I wouldn't change a damn thing, given a chance."
He pulls me away and shakes his head. He is terrified, frightened. His hands move over my face, gentle, slow. “Don’t do that!”
I frown. “Do what?”
“You sound like ya’re saying goodbye. Say something else... please."
Am I saying goodbye?
A quick smile. "No matter what happens now, I want ya to know how lucky I am.”
He frowns for a second, uncomprehending, but then chuckles lightly. “I won’t let a headache take ya away from me,” he promises.

I grimace, glaring at the floor. I feel his questioning eyes on my face. I don't look at him. I can't.
I swallow, hard. “I know.”
There's noise from the other side of the door. The royals and servants are awake. I take a quick shower, dress swiftly in the black and blue steels and try not to think of the dream again.
D'ziko is in the kitchen part of my bedroom when I walk out of the closet.
"D'ziko?” I say, taking a seat next to him.
“Hmm…?” He looks up slightly to acknowledge me but stares out of the window again. His eyes are blank, lifeless. A total turnaround from thirty minutes ago. He is a lot more remote than usual.
I can feel something, paranoia maybe, reach for my grip.
Something's wrong. Something's very wrong.
"Kaseke already made us breakfast. He even got us some milk. We should eat and then I'll take ya to training."
It doesn't seem like he cares that people will see him. I don't argue.
I don't like the urgency in his voice. He extends his hand like he wants to take mine in his but he hesitates before folding his arms over his lap.
"D'ziko...?" I say again.
Leza's poster is directly in front of us. D'ziko doesn't look away from it, but I can tell he isn't paying attention. Something is bothering him. Or he is still not being friendly with me. Either that or something happened in my absence. I hesitantly reach out to touch his stiff shoulder. He cringes at my touch but then relaxes.
“D'ziko!” I ask again, more urgently this time, sandwiching his face in my hands.
He takes a deep breath. "Yeah," he mutters, his voice is unsteady. It isn't normal at all for D'ziko. This worries me.
“What is wrong?” I ask.
D'ziko curls those lean fingers over mine to loosen the grip I have on him, then he turns away from me.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“What is it?”
His head turns sharply, to stare into my eyes. I duck my head.
"Something doesn't add up," he whispers, his eyes curiously dead.
The tone of his voice catches my attention immediately.
"What does that mean?"
"Not that I don't trust ya. But Imani..." He gulps. "I saw a...guy-- man leaving this morning. Who was it? What was he doing here? I'm sure he wasn’t here to see me."
I squeeze my eyes tight together before the panic can be evident.
I glare at him. I was alone all night. What's he insinuating?
"Hell!" he hisses and then leaps from the chair, landing heavily on his feet.
I stare at him, confused. "D'ziko?"
His face turns to me.
My heart gallops.
"Let's just get ya to training," he says, his jaw tight. He is hiding something.
D'ziko levitates me to training in silence. For the full duration of the ride, I stare into the foggy streets and pouring rain. The terror reaches a boiling point and the thought that maybe, just maybe, D'ziko is right, there was a man in my room has me in immense fear.
As the training facility gate greets us and a white board with bold, underlined, black letters announced Noddon Trainers, for a second, I stiffen.
D'ziko comes to a stop at the side of the building where (hopefully) no one can see us.
"I'll see ya at lunch," he says and kisses my cheek.
I nod.
"Imani?" He is staring at me with an unfathomable expression.
I hesitate before stepping out of his embrace. "Yes...?"
"Be careful, sweetheart."
My stomach twists at his voice. I've never seen D'ziko so vulnerable.
I force a smile. "Aren't I always?"
I turn away and walk into the maroon buildings. They are beginning to look much like something out of a horror movie with each step I take.