Crowned (23 page)

They place the chairs in front of us, and Ntatemogolo and I sit. Now only Serame is left standing, in the impossible shoes only a fashionista like Lebz could appreciate.

“We have known for some time that there were drifters living in Botswana,” she continues. “We didn’t interfere in their lives unless they asked us to, but we were aware of a young drifter called Maria. There was speculation that she might be first-generation, but no proof.” She waves a hand at Ntatemogolo.

“We have already discussed Lerumo Raditladi’s theory of our origins at length, and we are convinced of its accuracy. After reading his letter we consulted the councils in West Africa.” She’s speaking to everyone, but for some reason her eyes are on me, and I can’t look away. “They are investigating the history of a young man also believed to be a first-generation drifter, and asked that we do the same with Maria. However, our situation is a little more complicated.”

She turns her gaze back on the crowd. “Maria has not made contact with her cell. According to our rules, we can’t make first contact. We can’t just turn up on her doorstep, demanding answers. She has also refused to see Mr Raditladi again, which leaves us in a bit of a jam. So!” She claps her hands once. “We’re here to find a solution that will give us the information we need without breaking our code, and we have invited Mr Raditladi and his granddaughter to help us do this. I’ll hand over to the council to begin taking suggestions.”

“I have a suggestion,” I say softly.

Ntatemogolo glares at me. “Quiet!”

“Should I raise my hand?” I whisper.

“You should hold your tongue until the chairman gives you the floor.”

Eish
. What do I know about drifter protocol? I squirm in my seat. It’s obvious what needs to be done. The drifters can’t go to Maria, so Maria must come here. Duh. And since Ntatemogolo and I are the only people here not bound by the ridiculous drifter code, we must be the ones to fetch her.

But I soon learn that the drifter decision-making process is just as drawn-out as ours. The chairman of the council, a big man with a fearsome frown, opens the discussions, and the councillors take turns stating the obvious and debating irrelevant points.

“The girl’s cell is closer to her – why don’t we let them handle this?” says a woman with a cherubic face and a halo of fuzzy hair.

“Handle it how? They can’t make first contact!” the man beside her points out.

“They can do what our newest cell did – use a non-drifter who is close to the girl to persuade her to join them.”

“Involving an ungifted is out of the question, and there are no gifted in the immediate vicinity. Interfering telepaths aren’t found on every street corner, you know!”

Interfering? Seriously?

“Maybe we should let the interfering telepath contribute,” says Temper, and I beam at him.

“The decision is ours to make.”

“Of course, but she and her grandfather know more about this girl–”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Just because the man met her once–”

“Well, there might be some merit in hearing what they have to say–”

“Let’s open it to the floor.”

“There’s no need, this is a simple matter of…”

I can’t take it any more. It’s like listening in when Parliament is in session. Despite Ntatemogolo’s warning, I stand. “Excuse me. Hello? Can I say something?”

My grandfather sighs and shakes his head. I know, I know, I never listen. But sometimes my way is better.

The amphitheatre falls silent. The councillors turn to glare at me. I glance at Rakwena. He’s frozen, eyes wide, jaw tense. Next to him Duma is shaking his head frantically, but it’s too late to stop now. I risk a glance in Serame’s direction. Her expression is inscrutable.

I clear my throat. “Sorry to interrupt. May I speak?”

“You’ve already begun,” says Serame in a wry tone.

My face burns. “Ja. Sorry. Um… You can’t go to D’Kar. Maria’s cell can’t go to her, either. There are only two people in this room who can, so let us do it.”

“What makes you think you can convince her to leave her community if even the bond isn’t strong enough to pull her away?” the chairman asks disdainfully.

Good question. How shall I answer it? Let’s see… “I’m a telepath, Mr Chairman. I can be very persuasive.”

I hear my grandfather inhale sharply. A murmur ripples through the gathered drifters. Rakwena buries his head in his hands. I’m teetering on the edge of a precipice here, and the expression on the chairman’s face tells me I have only seconds left before I topple to my death. Oh, well. At least I made a memorable first impression.

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it the way it sounds,” says Temper, but no one pays him any attention.

The chairman gets to his feet and comes over. He’s much taller up close. Much scarier, too. “Are you declaring, in front of the matriarch, the council and our audience, that you can use your gift to persuade Maria to come here?”

Gulp. Declare is a strong word. I’m not declaring, I’m just saying I might be able to, if I’m very, very lucky, but it doesn’t seem wise to point that out. I’ve dug my grave. Might as well jump in. “Yes, sir.”

The murmurs grow louder. I know what they’re thinking. The nerve of this interfering telepath! Who does she thinks she is?

“Please excuse us,” he says smugly. “The council will put this to a vote.”

The two boys who brought our chairs reappear to lead us into the house. As soon as they’ve left us alone in the living room Ntatemogolo turns to me.

“Have you lost your mind, girl? Do you have any idea what you are dealing with?”

“I’m sorry! It just came out.”

“These people are not like us,” he hisses. “You have seen how strictly they adhere to their code. If you enter into an agreement with them and break it, they will feel justified in ending your life.”

I let out a hysterical giggle. “They wouldn’t.” His expression takes my breath away, and not in a good way. OK. So ending my life is a real possibility.

“Why don’t you think before you speak?”

“I’m sorry!”

“Sorry is of no use now.”

I gulp and contemplate the end of my life. Rakwena will stop them, he’ll… No, he won’t. He can’t. A moment later the two boys return to call us back. I guess deciding to hang me was easy. Panic sets in as we head back outside, and by the time I’m standing in front of the council I’m starting to feel sick.

“The council has reached a decision,” Serame announces. “The telepath, Conyza, will prove here and now that she can get past a drifter barrier. If she succeeds, she and her grandfather will be granted permission to go to D’Kar. If she fails, she will be excommunicated.” She looks at me. “That means you will never be allowed to see or speak to a member of this clan again.”

My heart stops. I stare at her in disbelief, then my gaze slides in Rakwena’s direction. His expression is dazed, uncomprehending, as though he can’t make sense of what he’s just heard. Oh, no. Stupid, stupid, stupid Connie!

I’ve just given the council the one thing they’ve wanted since I stepped on the scene – a way to get rid of me. A way to keep me and Rakwena apart for good.

Chapter Nine

“What were you thinking?”

Rakwena and I sit in a corner of the garden, a short distance from his cell and Ntatemogolo. The meeting is in recess and a trolley of refreshments has been wheeled out, but I can’t even think about food.

“You weren’t thinking, were you?” He groans. “God, Connie!”

“I’m sorry! I was just fed up with all the back and forth, and the way they kept calling me ‘the interfering telepath’ like I wasn’t sitting right there.”

“So you decided to prove how brilliant you are?”

“I was just trying to help,” I mutter, annoyed.

He takes my hand. “I know. But this is probably the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, and that’s saying a lot. You don’t know how worried they’ve been about us, and you just handed them a solution on a silver plate!”

“I know!” I’m furious with myself, but I’m also hopeful. Breaking barriers is what I do, and I’ve been getting stronger. Maybe I can do this. “Let me practise on you.”

He shakes his head. “My barrier is weak because I’ve been out of the loop for so long. And I’m only half-drifter.”

My heart drops into my stomach. “I forgot about that.”

“Try to stay calm. You’ve been training, right?”

I nod. I still haven’t had a chance to tell him about Connie Who Knows.

“Good. Just focus.”

I nod again. His energy is giving me that familiar buzz, and my fear melts away. It won’t last, but right now it’s exactly what I need. I can do this. I’m a superstar.

Rakwena looks towards the councillors. “It’s time.”

I follow his gaze. The councillors are resuming their seats.

“I have to go. Stay positive, Connie.” He looks into my eyes and nods.

“Sure. I’ll be fine.” But the second he releases my hand the panic comes rushing back. I
can’t
do this. What am I thinking?

I take my seat beside Ntatemogolo, shaking. He reaches out to pat my arm.

“Breathe, my girl. Stay focused, and don’t let your fear get in the way of your gift.”

I inhale and exhale, trying to calm my fluttering heart. I’ve gone up against the Puppetmaster, and I’ll be fighting him again soon enough. This is nothing. This is a dress rehearsal for the real thing. Yes, that’s it. I just need to think of this as another training exercise. I can’t focus on the consequences of failure. Failure is not an option.

“We have selected a test subject,” says Serame cheerfully, as though she’s about to present me with an award. “Please step forward, Senzo.”

Senzo? No! Why? Can they really be so callous as to want the man who finally separates me and Rakwena to be his
father
? I watch Senzo saunter down the steps, looking unbearably smug. I reach towards his mind, testing, and suddenly I understand why he was chosen.

The Puppetmaster said that Senzo has far more psychic energy than other drifters. Psychic energy is what allows people to build barriers to keep meddlesome gifted out. Drifters have automatic natural barriers – unlike other people, they don’t have to learn to protect their thoughts. If Senzo has more energy than the rest of his family, he must have the strongest barrier.

“Conyza, please come forward.”

I glance at my grandfather. He nods firmly, but his eyes betray his concern. I get to my feet and walk to the middle of the amphitheatre. I stop a few steps away from Senzo. His lips curl in a smirk. He’s going to enjoy every minute of this.

“The rules are simple.” Serame’s expression gives nothing away. She could be screaming or ululating on the inside, and I’d never know. “Conyza has five minutes to attempt to enter Senzo’s mind. Can we have a volunteer to keep time, please?”

“I’ll do it.” Temper’s voice is strained. He glances back at Rakwena, then removes his watch and places it in his palm.

“Perhaps someone more impartial…” one of the councillors begins, but she’s cut off by a furious glare from Temper.

“I swore an oath like everyone else.” His tone is calm, but I’ve been on the other end of that voice and I know that beneath it is rage no one wants to be subjected to.

“Of course,” the councillor murmurs hastily.

Serame turns to me. “Are you ready?”

No, but I swallow once and nod anyway.

“Then we will begin in four, three, two… Go.”

Senzo inches closer, trying to intimidate me. I hold my ground. The closer he is, the shorter the distance my gift has to travel. If he weren’t such an arrogant piece of work he’d realise that.

I take a deep breath and focus all my attention on his eyes. They’re the one feature that Rakwena didn’t inherit. Senzo’s eyes are cold and hard, tiny blue flecks of light spinning in the centre of his irises. It’s been a while since his last conquest. I can almost smell his hunger.

That’s it.

The answer comes spiralling up from that deep place inside me, and for once I’m glad to hear from Connie Who Knows. Senzo knows he’s special. He knows his barrier is almost unbreakable, that he can go longer than the others without a conquest. He’s cocky and reckless, and he pushes the boundaries. I can almost see him waiting until the last few days of the three-week window. Four weeks without a conquest and a drifter will die. But Senzo’s different, so he can go maybe three and a half weeks before he really starts to feel it. He’s low on fuel now. Not as low as I’d like, but that’s OK. I’m going to make him think he’s dying, and his energy is low enough that he’ll believe it.

My gift circles his barrier. Like all drifter barriers it appears not as a wall, but as a smoky, impenetrable darkness. I remember how I finally opened Ntatemogolo’s book – by attacking the barrier as a whole rather than searching for weak points. I use the same approach here.

I can feel power unfolding inside me. It feels different from my usual energy – stronger, more intense. I hesitate. I’m being manipulated by Connie Who Knows. The Maybe-Ultima. She’s the owner of that strange, strong power, and I’m not sure I want to let her hitch a ride on my gift.

My gaze drifts to Rakwena, and that’s enough to dispel my doubts. I don’t know where this power is coming from, but I need it. A world in which some idiotic clan decree keeps me away from Rakwena is unacceptable.

I take another deep breath and let my own barrier slip. The power comes up, spreading across my insides, leaving them tingling with the cool heat of menthol. I can almost taste the energy as it slides up my spine and into my brain – it tastes of damp earth, leaves and mineral-rich water.

Green light flashes behind my eyes. It spills out and forms countless thin blue-green threads that bore slowly through Senzo’s barrier. His eyes widen. He can sense my presence, but I’m not interested in reading him. I’m interested in planting. I start small, dropping one thought at a time, letting it sit for a few seconds before adding another.

My energy’s dropping.
He frowns, confused.
What has she done? No, it’s just a trick. No, wait…it’s not. She’s draining my reserves. But how? She can’t…can she? I need to conquer. I waited too long. I need to conquer now!