Switch! (31 page)

Not everybody chose the witching, she mused, as she watched the smoke of an early cooking fire curl up, twisting itself around the thick, oily fumes of whatever potions the witches and wizards were concocting down below. A lot of the villagers chose instead to farm their little patch, watering their crops from the fresh water streams that ran off the western mountains. Well, some of them used a little help from the magic, but they had to go east, into the forest to get it, and not all had the stomach for it.

Lewa drained the last bit of herb tea from her cup and stood silhouetted against Gogo Maya’s own breakfast fire. Leaning as far over the rickety verandah balustrade as she could, she rinsed her cup in a waterfall that tinkled besides Gogo Maya’s cottage. Gogo Maya raised an eyebrow.

“What?” Lewa said. “It’s just a bit of herb tea. Honestly, if the stream ran past my house into the village I would do
all
my washing up in it. Not to mention adding a few surprises of my own.”
 

Gogo Maya eyed the girl warily. She wondered if she’d thought that up herself or if she suspected Gogo Maya put stuff in the village drinking water. Well, she only put in herbs that were good for folk, to chivvy them along, and then only once a week. And the occasional sleeping draught, but only when she needed to be absolutely sure they would sleep through her more interesting experiments.

The angry yowls of a cat drifted up towards them, followed by the stomach turning fecal odour of someone extracting ambergris from a civet cat.

“You should have a word when we get back,” Lewa said to Gogo Maya, sniffing the air and wrinkling her nose. “I am sure there is something synthetic that Mawulol could use, if he would only ask Tacari to bring it through the tear.”
 

“No point,” Gogo Maya said. “That man is as stubborn as his badger. He has been making his perfumes that way since long before you were born. He won’t see any reason to stop now, besides, he would never ask Tacari.” Her ears pricked at a faint whispering sound and she sniffed the air, nodding when she caught the comforting slightly burned smell of Nomatotlo. “Shh!” she said. “They’re here.”

Gogo Maya searched the underside of the thatch of her verandah and the plethora of decorated cattle horns, bead covered calabashes and etched ostrich eggs that hung there, turning gently in the breeze. It was no good. You never actually saw the Nomatotlo. The soft, whistling sound that came from the thatch, although unintelligible at first, soon settled into one or two tongue-clicking voices.
 

“Maya, we come from Kapichi village and the news is not good,” they whispered. “The entity you seek – the entity that threatened you – lurks at Almoh City, and we believe it is some sort of soul that jumps... called a jumper.”

“How many troubles can I bear?” Gogo Maya moaned in disbelief at this new complication, even though she had half-expected it. “Couldn’t the stupid thing lurk around Morathi’s village till we’ve rescued the boy? ” She couldn’t let a jumper –
whatever that was
– get in her way now. She’d heard from the first group of Nomatotlo that Joe had arrived at Almoh with the tiger, but he looked somewhat banged up. She was sure the tiger had not injured the boy, but the cat was obviously out of his depth. She had hoped to rescue the boy before they had to decide what to do about the jumper.

“Well, what does it jump on? And why did it want to attack us?” she said impatiently, addressing a set of masks decorated with bird feathers and plant fibres that hung over her cottage door – that was where she suspected the Nomatotlo hid.

“Wise Tokoloshe said it is a soul that jumps into a new body when it is tired of its old body. It can do this simply by touching the host body.”

“What happens to the soul currently occupying that body?” Lewa said grimly. She did not speak towards the masks, but chose instead to gaze out over the village.

“It dies,” the Nomatotlo intoned in unison. They were not the most sympathetic of creatures, having spent so much of their energy on achieving accuracy.

“Whose body is it wearing at Almoh then?” Gogo Maya said to the masks.

“We were unable to winkle this information out of the Tokoloshe, or why they attacked you,” the Nomatotlo whispered. “They are either too terrified to tell, or they have forgotten. One of them thinks the thing is after Galal.”
 

“Oh, good grief! This jumper must be able to make the Tokoloshe forget.” Gogo Maya said. “Even Morathi’s crowd can’t be that stupid on their own.” She tried to remember the voice from the forest. The Tokoloshe had been pretty terrified of it until it left, and then they had been their usual rapscallion selves. She wouldn’t admit this to anyone else, but she’d been a little un-nerved by the voice herself.

“It occurs to me that the Almoh are in as much danger as the boy,” Lewa said. “I have never come across a jumper before, but I think I can handle one, as long as I know who it is,” she added, less doubtfully.

“Not our problem...” Gogo Maya frowned. She had no idea how to ward off a jumper, but she was sure she could work it out. She was damned if she was going to let Lewa take over, even if the young girl was more powerful than her. Lewa would only complicate things with weather and things bursting into flames, or push the entity through into another world causing even more complications. Besides, Gogo Maya was the one who had been attacked, she was the grown-up, and she did not want to abandon her carefully laid plans.
 

She’d spent days making amulets to protect the group who would go with her to Almoh to rescue the boy. Her stash of ceramic beads was busy soaking up the magic in the well at Lala Salama village, to be added to the amulets at the last minute. True, she was worried they would not be strong enough or that some of Rafiki’s Tokoloshe may have disturbed them, but that was no reason to defer to the girl.
 

“I wish we could speak to Tacari,” Lewa cajoled, turning towards Gogo Maya. Her eyes had an excited intensity to them.

“You’re finding this thrilling, aren’t you?” Gogo Maya grumbled. Lewa had been wishing pointedly that they could speak to Tacari from the beginning. He may be able to help, but he would be so furious with Gogo Maya when he found out what she was up to, and he may refuse in any case.

“Perhaps he knows something about jumpers,” Lewa said in mock horror that Gogo Maya would think she was enjoying Gogo Maya’s discomfort. “He might be able to shed some light on the powers of your boy, Ethan, too. Nomatotlo told me yesterday, the boy held three lions at bay while they waited for Fisi and the Kishi to pitch up. Perhaps the boy has more power than you think.”
 

Lewa leaned back in her chair with an impish grin. “And that’s another thing Tacari is going to be angry about,” she said. “The hyena! At least the boy, Joe, was a mistake.”
 

Gogo Maya eyed Lewa, shifting uneasily. The twinkle in the girl’s eye told her she was joking, but she wondered if she could really trust her. “Drat, of all the luck, couldn’t I have changed places with something simple like a squirrel or a rock?”
 

At last, Aaron strolled out of his hut down in the village as if he had no particular destination in mind. He patted old Gogo Hasina’s vulture, before making his way up the path towards Gogo Maya’s cottage.
 

“Good!” Gogo Maya said to Lewa. “The boy is very sneaky, but you must remember to warn him not to touch other people’s familiars. Are you quite sure you wouldn’t rather leave him behind? This adventure is becoming more dangerous by the minute.”
 

“And risk having him tell the whole of Waheri village as soon as we have left? Not likely,” Lewa snorted.

Gogo Maya thought that was just as well. She knew it was too late to back out now. Aaron had been sucking up to her for days in an effort to persuade her to take him with on her rescue. He had fed her piglets, milked her goats, even tilled her small maize patch further down in the valley. He would be mortified if she didn’t let him come. Oh well, she sighed, he was Lewa’s responsibility anyway.

Gogo Maya tapped her pipe out against her boot and stood up. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in putting it off then,” she said, hefting her sack of amulets on her back and turning towards the path to meet Aaron. She would have to remember not to let anyone snoop in her bag. She’d packed her last remaining mbogo root in there. She was going to need it now if she was going to construct a powerful enough ward against the jumper.

The three of them stole quietly out of Waheri village towards the tunnels that led through the hill to the magic forest. Gogo Maya was sure old Gogo Inaya could see them go, as clairvoyant as she was, but she was also a close-mouthed old bat, and slow. She wouldn’t raise the alarm till they were well on their way.

Slipping inside the maze tunnel, Gogo Maya was careful to place her feet exactly where Lewa had placed hers. Her eyes were not what they used to be, and there was no point in setting off the miniscule traps hidden along the path.
 

Originally intended to keep the forest animals out, a delicate creeper had been planted there, which bore extremely fragile, spiny-faceted bag-like flowers, the size of a pea, that gave off a puff of vapour if you popped them, that created a wooly sort of confusion in your mind. Strangers approaching from the forest, who did not know where to step, would find themselves turned around and facing the way they had come. Gogo Maya would have gathered some of the flowers up if she thought they would confuse the jumper, and if it were possible to gather them up without causing a fair bit of confusion to herself.
Drat
, she thought as she plodded along behind Lewa,
I hope I am going to be able to construct a strong enough amulet to repel that jumper
.

Drogba had watched keenly as the boy climbed the cliff face to retrieve the powerful pears. Apparently there was a trick to it. He’d only ever seen one youngster survive the climb and when he had wondered out loud why anyone would take such a risk, had been told about the potent magic-enhancing properties of the fruit. It was good that Joe was capable of making the climb because Drogba needed to accelerate the boy’s transformation if his plan was to work.

Although he would go back to his original plan of taking Galal if things did not work out, Drogba was more resolved than ever that he should take the boy’s body. He felt a pang of regret because the boy was charming, but he would die anyway at the hands of the insufferably reckless heir. It was only a matter of time. The Almohad, who apparently set great store by such things, were already fascinated by the boy’s exotic looks and with his natural ability. If Drogba combined that with his own centuries of experience he would be able to do wonders in the Kingdoms of Karibu.

The problems with the slaves, and the troubles across the river had been going on for decades. Drogba felt sure they could hold out just a little longer... Just until he could appropriate the boy, and set himself up. Yes... He hoped the boy would survive Kitoko just a little longer. Just long enough for Drogba to manoeuver himself into position.

Ethan hugged his knees to his chest where he sat at the back of the cave. Tariro was well on his way to recovery but he wondered if things could possibly get worse. He had taken off his wet trousers and wrapped a kanga around his waist, but there was no way of washing himself; he had run out of waterless hand sanitiser days ago. The only thing more embarrassing than having wet himself was that Jimoh had noticed, and offered him his spare set of trousers back. He hadn’t taken them. He kicked listlessly at his bloodied T-shirt lying on the floor. A wave of nausea passed over him, leaving him faint and on the verge of tears. He wondered how much of that was due to the shock of the lion attack and how much to his blood settling, as Salih liked to call it.
 

Clutching the remaining five gems tightly in his fist, he felt a further stab of panic as he wondered if they would be enough to ransom Joe. That was always supposing he could get the gems to Almoh before the Mokele Mbembe came looking for them... For a moment, before Jimoh had dozed off again beside Tariro, he had been on the verge of blurting out his worries about losing the rest of the gems but stopped himself when he realised that would only make Jimoh feel guilty, and there had been no choice about using them against the lions. Perhaps they could look around and try to salvage some more in the morning, he thought, as he rolled himself up in a ball besides Salih. He closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep before morning.
 

But sleep wouldn’t come. Instead, predatory feelings drifted into his mind, more vivid than a dream. His eyes flew open in astonishment, breaking the thread, and he stared at the shadows from the fire flickering across the ceiling of the cave. The Tokoloshe snuffled and grunted in their sleep around the fire. They had all returned brimming with excitement, after stashing the lion in a safe place, but not before plaiting its mane and giving it a general tidy-up, according to Manu, who had added a small scrap of plaited lion mane to his skirt.
 

Salih lay purring softly beside Ethan’s head and he wondered if he hadn’t somehow picked up on the leopard’s dream. He closed his eyes again and deliberately let his awareness spread out, the way Salih had taught him, to see if he
could
tap into the leopard’s dream.
 

He felt himself moving outside the cave, but he was loping rather than slinking, eyes fixed intently on the brindled form of the sister in front of him. He realised, with some discomfort, that he was intruding on Fisi’s mind. Alert to every nuance of scent and sound as he stalked along the path running parallel to the river, he was surprised to sense that he was not in control of the hunt. Instead, he followed the sister’s coolly efficient progress through the bush. Other dark shadows loped effortlessly on either side of him. Ethan was aware of a feeling, not a thought, exactly, just a general knowing, that the success of the hunt was especially important to Fisi because he wanted to ingratiate himself to Ethan. Suddenly, with a grunt of triumph, the sister streaked across an open patch of ground, sailed over a low boulder and launched herself onto the back of a young sable antelope.