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And what was it the youth had been thinking just before Lewa gave Galal the amulet?
“That one is as pale as my slave.”
The full impact of that thought hit Ethan. Who else in this strange world looked like him? With a cold certainty he knew that this young man was thinking about Joe and his mood turned hateful.

He had no idea where he got the idea from, but he watched those sticky tendrils of his search out the specialised, threadlike, nerve endings in every part of the youth’s body. Then he unleashed a cascade of neurotransmitters up the youth’s spine to his cerebral cortex, where he could properly appreciate a crushing type of pain sensation. Ethan smiled with satisfaction. He wasn’t really harming the youth, he told himself. It wasn’t real pain, only the impression of pain…
 

Suddenly, he almost lost his breath as the painful sensation doubled back upon himself and he realised he did not know how to let go.
 

All along the walls, there had been an unsheathing of weapons, from jewelled daggers, to ornately carved axes. Even the kudu horn became a weapon of sorts when swivelled in the musician’s hand. The dark-eyed girl stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at Ethan, but even she was afraid to touch him. He was vaguely aware of Salih nudging him, but his head buzzed so badly he couldn’t hear what the leopard was saying till cool hands swung his face around and he found himself staring into Jimoh’s dark, worried eyes.
 

“No, Ethan, is not good to hurt somebody,” the boy said quietly.

Abruptly, the man on the floor lay still and Ethan gave a jerk, shuddering with the power that still pulsed around him.
 

Tariro scrambled up and stood shielding Lewa, his hand gripping his throat, his face a picture of stunned awe. “Yussy, Ethan, how the hell did you do that?” he croaked.
 

“Well, not that evil, anyway,” Gogo Maya said, with a satisfied grin at Ethan and then glared pointedly at the unsheathed weapons.

The angry black-eyed girl rushed to help the man on the floor.
 

“Don’t you dare touch him, Praxades!” Galal bellowed. He stepped forward to protect the youth, and then appeared to have second thoughts because he stepped back from the snivelling youth just as smartly, staring wildly around the room.
 

Some of Galal’s people, sensing his confusion, already had mutinous thoughts. Ethan caught several vague snippets of plans involving new leaders. But most seemed irritated with the girl.
What has Praxades done now?
they were wondering.

When he looked at her closely, the girl, Praxades, looked pretty stricken herself. Ethan shook his head.
She has no idea what’s going on either
, he realised.
 

“I knew you could do it!” Lewa grinned at Ethan, and he tried unsuccessfully to hide a triumphant smile.

“I didn’t,” Gogo Maya added sternly. “You’d better not do it again.”
 

Most of the Almohad backed off in shock, swivelling their faces backwards and forwards between Galal, Gogo Maya and Grandma Wanyika for direction. A few braver ones stood glowering at Ethan.

“What the hell is going on?” Praxades advanced on him. “What did you do to Kitoko?”
 

Salih stepped in front of Ethan protectively. Gogo Maya smiled at the girl as if she were demented, took her firmly by the hand and lead her to a divan while Lewa helped the youth, Kitoko, to his feet.

“Don’t be a big baby,” Lewa said to Kitoko. “It was just a bit of pain. You will be fine in a minute.”
 

Kitoko slumped down beside the tiger, putting his hand on its back for support. Ethan noticed the tiger pulled away slightly. Was that revulsion he saw on its face? Or was it intelligent enough to wonder if Kitoko was about to jump it. Some of the Almohad grinned at the young man’s discomfort.
Not very nice people
, thought Ethan.

“I’m sorry,” he said to Kitoko, actually feeling quite guilty now that he had let go of the strange power. “Overcome with anxiety for my friend.”

“Speaking of which,” Fisi said in a cold, threatening tone, “he has another friend here that he may be suffering a pang of anxiety over. A young man. Same fair skin and golden hair. I can’t see him here. Is he perhaps busy doing something... irresponsible... in the valley below?”

Completely forgetting their part in the mission, which was to guard one Almohad each, and shoot him with a sleeping draught if he turned out to be the jumper, the Tokoloshe rushed over to the balcony to look for Joe. Some had the sense to look through the ancient-looking telescopes abandoned by the Almohad, but most just leaned precariously over the balcony for a better view into the jungle below.
 

“First things first,” Galal blurted out. He had a tight grip on his amulet, and he glanced anxiously over his shoulder at the man, Kitoko. He cleared his throat and addressed his people. “The witch tells me we have been harbouring a jumper.”
 

The Almohad moved apart suddenly as if their companions had become electrically charged.

“What’s a jumper?” a pretty woman in a cerise robe said.

“Your worst nightmare,” Gogo Maya said in a low, dramatic voice with just the right mixture of doom and authority. As the self-proclaimed expert on all things jumper, she went on to explain. Ethan could tell from some of the older Almohad that she wasn’t getting it all right, but even the ones who had heard of jumpers radiated confusion. There had been no sudden deaths to mark the arrival of a jumper. One starkly beautiful lady, with shiny mahogany hair down to her waist, even did a mental count of all the servants, but shook her head. Everyone had known each other for years. Could the jumper have been here that long? she thought. Could it be amongst the captives?

“Oh for God’s sake, stop snivelling!” the tiger snapped suddenly, pushing Kitoko, the swordsman, aside.

“That voice!” Gogo Maya gasped. “The jumper is the tiger!”

“Gogo! I see him! I see the boy! There has been an accident!” Akin, the Tokoloshe, yelled from the edge of the balcony. He pulled the looking glass off its mount and stumbled over to Gogo Maya with it.

“Joe!” Tariro gasped. He looked imploringly at Lewa, but she shooed him away.

“Go!” she said, “we will take care of this.”
 

As Tariro barrelled his way out of the balcony room by a side door Ethan tried to slip out after him, hoping Lewa knew what she was doing with the jumper. He needed to help Joe, and he had to tell Tariro about the blood before he got himself into any more trouble. Several of the Almohad had taken advantage of the confusion and bolted outside before him.

“No, Ethan! Stay!” Salih called into Ethan’s head. “You are the only one who can do this. You have Gogo Maya’s power. She is too weak. Lewa is powerful but her talents lie elsewhere. Do not let her down. You will need her to get home.”

Fisi vacillated for a moment and then said, “Well, I am going. I don’t think I can do anything here, and I suspect Tariro will get himself into trouble with the Almohad even if they can’t beguile him.”

“We will fetch Joe,” Jimoh said. “You try to help Gogo Maya with strange powers of the head, Ethan.” Then he slipped out behind Fisi.

The Tokoloshe, Ethan was relieved to see, had cornered the tiger. Led by Grandma Wanyika, they surrounded the cat, arrows nocked. He hoped they would remember how little effect their sleeping potion had had on the lions. The tiger’s fur would probably be even harder to penetrate.

“You!” Grandma Wanyika rounded furiously on the tiger. “I have been meaning to have a talk with you!” She kicked him in the foot.

“Er... don’t touch the tiger, Grandma,” Lewa said. “Don’t forget he can jump you if you touch him.”

“Don’t be foolish!” she shot over her shoulder, and then fixed her little raisin eyes firmly on the cat. “Why would he want to jump into this tired old body? Too bloody painful for a start, what with the corns and the gout!”

“I’m only trying to help, dear lady,” said the tiger in a reasonable voice, laced with just a hint of menace ready to bubble to the surface without warning. “I would be a much better leader than Galal, if only I had his body. Look at the man. He can hardly pull himself away from his bao game long enough to attend to his own family, let alone the kingdom.”
 

Grandma Wanyika’s expression softened. Ethan guessed she liked being called “dear lady”.

“His heir is obsessed with risk taking,” the tiger went on, stopping momentarily to stab an unsheathed claw in the direction of Kitoko for emphasis, “but does not have the courage to participate himself, choosing instead to witness an endless stream of hapless attendants risk their lives in increasingly impossible tasks. And why not,” he went on disdainfully. “No one stops the revolting youth, for fear of upsetting Galal.” He came to rest before Galal, and spoke through gritted teeth. “Whose daughter is running amok in the valley as we speak, playing the deadly game this bone-headed youth set up.”
 

Judging by Galal’s sharp intake of breath, and sudden movement towards the door, he had not known that his own daughter was involved. “Nandi!” he gasped.
 

“And as for the rest of you!” the tiger said, contemptuously swiping Galal back towards the others with one giant paw, and glowering at the remaining Almohad. “You sit here in your comfortable towers overlooking the decedents of the people who built them. You know how terrible it is down there. You have the strength and the means to make a difference, but you don’t. You are supposed to be the keepers of the kingdoms. When last did any of you go across the river and see what is going on?”

“I go shopping there all the time,” Praxades said, pushing out her lower lip. Ethan stared at her in wonder. He had never met anyone with so little sense of self-preservation in his life. She just did not know when to shut up.

“Coercing market vendors to give you their goods for nothing is not shopping, Praxades,” the tiger growled.

“The kingdoms are not our problem!” Galal said. “If they choose to follow that mad king Ulujimi...” His eyes shot back and forth between the tiger and the doorway.
 

“And speaking of irresponsible!” Gogo Maya interrupted him to round on the tiger. “You tried to get Morathi’s gang to get rid of me! And who knows what else you had those stupid Tokoloshe do for you.” She turned towards Grandma Wanyika. “No offense, Grandma,” she added.
 

“Oh, none taken, dearie.” Grandma Wanyika eyed her tribe ruefully. “One or two of my own clan are a bit stupid.”

Galal sank down on a divan and put his head in his hands, anxiety for his daughter finally getting the better of him, but not quite enough for him to make a dash for the door. He seemed prepared to leave the problem of the tiger to the old women to sort out.
 

Ethan did not know what he was supposed to do. They hadn’t discussed their plan beyond identifying the jumper. He had assumed they would capture it. It was beginning to dawn on him that they’d been planning to kill it. Unfortunately, the tiger seemed to have a point.

“The tiger kills!” Salih said into Ethan’s head.
 

“The tiger has a point,” Ethan hissed back at Salih.

“But Galal can change,” Salih said.

The tiger paced back and forth along the balcony, not exactly angry but still three metres of pent up danger, with canines longer than Ethan’s fingers. He stopped in front of Galal. “I’d have been prepared to put up with your indolence, even Kitoko’s spite till the strange boy, Joe, had grown into a man,” he said, “but under the influence of Kitoko he would never have lasted that long.”

“He was planning to jump Joe at some point!” Ethan blurted out, feeling a lot less tolerant suddenly.
 

The tiger turned his menacing attention on him. Ethan’s eyes searched wildly for Lewa. Hunting the jumper was all very well till you caught him, he thought. What on earth could he do? Lewa had her eyes screwed shut in concentration, probably trying to deflect the tiger’s focus, but she wasn’t getting anywhere. The tiger continued to advance on Ethan whose stomach lurched as he realised it was going to be up to him. Screwing his own eyes shut, Ethan searched frantically for an idea. He searched for the tiger’s nerve endings, hoping to channel the impression of pain as he had done to Kitoko, but his knowledge of tiger anatomy was non-existent compared with his knowledge of the human nervous system. He had studied that in school.
 

What if he stabbed himself and projected the pain onto the tiger as he had done with Fisi? Tariro had been right. It would hurt at first but he could heal himself afterwards. Unfortunately, the swordsman had picked up his sword, and there was nothing else sharp enough nearby. Ethan reached desperately for some sort of pain memory to project at the cat. A scorpion bite!

Ethan peeped out of the slits of his eyes at the tiger who was sitting down in front of him, drumming his four-inch claws on the marble floor, waiting politely for Ethan to be done.

Ethan dug deeper. He searched out every flea, louse and intestinal parasite he could find living on the cat. There was a tapeworm. He knew it.
Feel the pain
, he projected desperately at the vermin. Go mad. Bite him.
 

It seemed to make no difference.

Then, amazingly, the tiger began to twitch and scratch. Ethan was getting through!

But the tiger laughed. “Okay, you got me there, boy, that hurts. Oof... especially the thing in the stomach. Gives new meaning to the words ‘gut wrenching’, but you can stop now. There is nothing that you or the silly girl can do to destroy me. And I have no wish to occupy your body, any more than I wish to occupy the pain ridden old crone or any of her irritating clan.”

Grandma Wanyika puffed herself up and shook her stick at him indignantly. “I’ll have you know...”

“Who could do with a bit of watching themselves, I might add.” The tiger turned and glared right back at her. “At least one has fallen off the balcony, and several have wandered off. Probably plundering the palace as we speak.” He stalked over to the Almohad.