Crowned (28 page)

I wish the Puppetmaster
would
come and take Thuli’s ill-gotten gift. He has no business having it in the first place.

He grabs my arm. I really wish he’d stop doing that. “You have to protect me.”

I stare at him. “Are you nuts?”

“You can’t let him take it! Now that Jafta’s useless I’ll never be able to get it back!”

Now that Jafta’s useless? Wow. “You are unbelievable,” I hiss, tugging my arm out of his grip. “I’m not going to help you. I’d rather help
him
find you. You have no right to that gift. You deserve to lose it!”

Amazing how, medium and all, I don’t see it coming. He lunges at me, knocking both our chairs over. Before I have time to figure out what’s happening I’m on my back on the floor with his weight on top of me. Again. This time he’s not trying to undress me. Which would be a relief, if he weren’t trying to kill me instead.

His fingers tighten around my neck. I can’t breathe; my mouth opens and closes but nothing is coming in. For the briefest moment I’m too shocked to respond, then I start to struggle. My hands reach up to prise his open, but it’s like trying to pull apart a metal clamp. How is this spindly twig of a boy so strong? I send my mind out to his, and I’m thrilled to discover that he hasn’t even put up his weak barrier. I slide in with ease.

Let go. You don’t want to do this. Let go!

He doesn’t. He pulls me to my feet, hand still clasped around my throat, then swivels sharply so my back is up against his front and his arm is pressed against my windpipe. I’m going to die at Thuli’s hands in a production office in Phakalane? Unacceptable.

Let me go, you stupid bastard!

“Stop that!” he growls. “You think I don’t know what you’re trying to do?”

His breath is ragged against my ear and his fear coils into my head, noxious and pervasive. There’s nothing more dangerous than a frightened enemy. I can’t play nice any more. If I don’t fight back he’s going to kill me. But if I do, I might kill
him
. I make one last attempt at winning him over.

“I’ll help you,” I croak. “I’ll…protect you.”

“You’re lying!”

He releases my waist, grabs my hair and yanks my head back. I let out a strangled yelp. My gift retreats, distracted by the pain. OK, that does it. I reach deep inside me, sensing the Ultima’s power begin to uncoil in my stomach. My gift plunges into my chest and emerges in a supernova of blue and green light that goes rushing into my head and spills out.

Thuli screams. His thoughts grow foggy. His grip slackens. My gift scrambles in the now empty space in his head. I whirl around and look down at the limp figure on the floor. Oh, God, I’ve killed him! No, I haven’t; his chest is still moving. I drop to my knees beside him, terror ringing in my skull. I reach out to check his pulse, and he disappears before my hand touches him.

The door bursts open. “What’s wrong? What happened? Who’s screaming?”

I look up at Portia, then down at the empty space on the floor. My hands are shaking.

“Connie! What happened?”

I can’t seem to form the words. My tongue won’t move. She runs off down the corridor, presumably to get help. She won’t find anyone, of course. She comes back a moment later, eyes wide.

“Where’s Thuli?”

I shake my head, still unable to speak. He’s gone.

Chapter Eleven

All local police stations look the same. The buildings are old, the paint peeling. The officers have that jaded, somewhat disdainful air about them, as though they don’t believe anything anyone says.

I’ve given my statement, as has Portia. I’ve told the truth, or as much of it as I could, and now I’m getting the feeling I should have kept my mouth shut.

“But explain to me,” the officer says for the hundredth time, “how does a person just disappear like that, hmm? You didn’t do anything to him?”

I look at him. I don’t know how many times I have to say it. “He just disappeared.”

He nods. “So let me see if I’m understanding this. You were having an argument. He was afraid he would be the next person to get kidnapped. He wanted you to protect him, and you told him you couldn’t. He became violent. He tried to strangle you. You pushed him and he fell. And then he just vanished into thin air.” He raises his eyebrows.

I nod.

“Very strange behaviour, don’t you think?”

Oh, for goodness sake. Of course it was strange. The boy was scared witless and he took it out on me, then his fears proved valid. End of story.

Before I can provide my standard answer, the officer raises his head. An expression of awe comes over his face, and suddenly the sceptical policeman is gone, replaced by a young man in the presence of a respected elder. He leaps to attention.

“Rre Raditladi! Please, come in. Have a seat right here. How can I help you?”

I turn towards my grandfather with a sigh of relief. He glances at the chair and remains standing.

“Is my granddaughter under suspicion?”

“Eh? Your…” The officer’s eyes swing in my direction. “Oh! Your granddaughter. Ah, no, of course not. Just getting her statement as a witness. These disappearances are becoming a problem, eh? Terrible times, Rre Raditladi. Terrible times. The last days, you know.”

Ntatemogolo grunts. It’s good to hear him use that special, no-nonsense grunt on someone else for a change. “I see the statement is complete. Is Connie free to go?”

“Ah, yes, of course, of course.” The officer beams at me. Man, it pays to have friends in high places. “If you think of anything else, Miss Bennett, you just call me, OK?”

I nod. His cell number is safely on my phone, though I have no intention of using it. The officer escorts us out, babbling about some book of Ntatemogolo’s that changed his life when he was still in training. I glance at Portia. She looks away. Great. I thought I was done with the whole people thinking I’m a freak thing.

“I think I’m going to go home,” I tell her. She nods at the floor.

Ntatemogolo and I finally manage to escape the policeman’s ardent fandom and get into his Venture.

“Thanks for coming,” I murmur.

“What did you tell them?”

“Nothing. Nothing important, I mean. But it looks bad. Portia obviously thinks I did some kind of voodoo on Thuli.”

Ntatemogolo starts the engine. “Don’t worry. The other disappearances were equally inexplicable. People have already decided it is witchcraft. They have no reason to suspect you. They didn’t suspect any of the people who saw Jafta vanish.”

I nod. I should try to be more optimistic, but I feel like I was hit by a truck, got up, and then got hit by a bus. It’s just one damn thing after another. I barely have time to digest one event before another one strikes.

“How did it happen? Did you see anything, any signs?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. No shimmer, no mysterious light. He just vanished. It was over in less than a second.” My mind goes back to that moment when I crouched over Thuli’s prone body. “I thought I had killed him, then I saw that he was still breathing. I was so scared. I thought I might have hurt him really badly. Maybe I did.”

He gives me a sharp look. “What do you mean?”

“I said he deserved to be taken. I meant it, too. And now he’s gone.”

“The Puppetmaster has no use for Thuli,” he assures me. “As soon as he has taken the gift, he will return him.”

“But Thuli’s not a true gifted. What if the Loosening doesn’t work on him?”

Ntatemogolo’s mouth is set in a grim line. “From what I know, it always works.”

“And what about Duma?”

Ntatemogolo is quiet for a long time. When he stops the car in front of my house he unbuckles his seat belt and turns to face me. “The drifter council called this morning. The trip to D’Kar has been postponed until Duma is found, and
you
are not being held responsible.”

My ears pick up the slight emphasis on the pronoun. “They’re not going to put this on Temper, are they? He wasn’t even there!”

Ntatemogolo sighs. “As cell leader it is his job to keep the others in line. You know how they handle things.”

Ja, like bloody bureaucrats. Poor Temper. This is the second time he’ll be punished for the actions of his cell brothers. I wonder what the punishment entails, then decide I’d rather not know. Drifters can be brutal.

“One more thing.” He reaches into the pocket of his old tweed jacket and retrieves an eyedropper filled with clear liquid.

I wrinkle my nose. Since Rakwena’s serum, I have an aversion to mysterious substances. “What is that?”

“A sleeping draught.” He shakes it and the liquid forms bubbles. “Potent, but safe. It prevents you from going into REM sleep. No dreams. Since your barrier slips when you sleep, you are vulnerable. This will protect you.”

I take the dropper from his hand. It’s cool and heavy, glass rather than plastic. I hold it up to my nose and sniff. Nothing. In spite of myself, I turn to look directly into my grandfather’s eyes, searching for any sign of trickery. His eyes widen. I pull my gift back and swallow, ashamed. I should trust him. I
do
trust him. It’s the Puppetmaster I can’t be sure of. The anklet on my foot isn’t infallible.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur.

“Don’t apologise. Caution is vital, especially for you. Be careful with that sleeping draught. You only need one tiny drop.”

I nod obediently – and then something clicks into place. “Wait – you said it would keep me from dreaming.” I look up at him. “I need to dream. I have important dreams sometimes, remember?”

He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t have to. I see. It’s precisely those important dreams he’s trying to protect me from, because he doesn’t trust Connie Who Knows.

I look at my grandfather, swallowing the lump forming in my throat. “You still don’t believe me about the Ultima.” I can’t keep the hurt out of my voice. “You think the Puppetmaster’s done something to make me have these dreams, that he’s somehow created that green energy. You think it’s all part of his scheme.”

To my dismay, he doesn’t even try to deny it. “Yes,” he says. He’s always been honest, I’ll give him that.

“Ntatemogolo, there must be a reason he’s so interested in me. What better reason than the fact that I’m the Ultima’s vessel?”

“There are a number of reasons. Your skill. Your connection with Rakwena. This power is great. I can understand why you would assume it is the Ultima, but it is simply
not possible
. You think John Kubega is the first person to seek her? People have tried for thousands of years, and no one has succeeded. Believing she is real is like believing in alchemy.”

Huh. Now that Dad finally believes in the supernatural, Ntatemogolo’s become a sceptic. “John might be crazy, but he’s not stupid. If she wasn’t real he wouldn’t believe in her!”

“Perhaps he doesn’t. Perhaps he is only pretending to in order to draw you in. This is exactly the sort of convoluted deception that would appeal to a mind like his. I am not trying to hurt you, my girl,” he adds gently. “But you must remember how young you are, how inexperienced. I have been studying gifted lore all my life.”

“Then you must know all the stories. Like the old man and the boy, and the seers who went blind…”

“I know the stories. Like all legends, they are metaphorical. If you had been in this world as long as I have, you would understand why I don’t believe in the Ultima.”

“I’m not upset because you don’t believe in the Ultima,” I snap. “I’m upset because you don’t believe in
me
.”

“I have always believed in you, Connie.”

“Sure. That’s why you whipped up a sleeping draught. Because you have so much faith in my ability to defend myself from the Puppetmaster’s lies.”

“Not even I could defend myself. Have you forgotten? He tricked us both! When I met him all those years ago I had no idea what he was. He used me to administer the anti-drifter serum to Rakwena, and not for a moment did I suspect that I was being manipulated. You and I have been victims of this man’s machinations for too long! You have let him in too far, Connie. You have allowed him to matter to you!”

“How can he not matter? He ruined my life!”

“Exactly my point. You have to keep your distance.”

I shake my head, suddenly weary. “Ntatemogolo, you don’t get it. He and I are connected. He knows things about me before I know them myself, and that’s why I understand him better than you do. Better than anyone else. That’s why I can tell the difference between his influence and someone else’s. I know the Ultima isn’t a trick. She’s real. You’ll see.”

I open the door and climb out of the car.

“Connie. Connie!”

I keep walking. I don’t need him to believe me. Before he came home from gallivanting all over the world I dealt with my gift on my own. I managed. I feel the sting of tears, but I’m not going to cry. My world is crumbling, taking innocent (and not-so-innocent) people with it, and I have to stop it. If that means I stand alone, so be it.

I freeze at the gate. Lebz, Wiki and Kelly are sitting on the front step.

“What are you doing here?” I approach slowly. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“We heard the news,” Wiki explains. “We figured you’d come straight home.”

“Also it’s the first week of holidays,” adds Kelly.

“Is it true?” Lebz gets to her feet, eyes wide. “Thuli’s gone?”

I stare at them in shock. “That happened a few hours ago!” I fumble for my keys and unlock the door. I hear the rattle of Ntatemogolo’s car pulling back into the road.

“It only takes a few seconds to tweet,
choma
,” Lebz reminds me, following me into the house. She sits at the dining table and pats the chair next to her. “You look like you need to talk about it.”

The last thing I want to do is talk about it, but I’m going to have to fill them in eventually. I close the front door and sink into the chair. Let’s see, where do I begin? Oh, ja. The council meeting. I take a deep breath, then tell them everything.

To my surprise, I feel better afterwards. They’re kind and sympathetic. Kelly’s eyes don’t pop out of her head, not even when I explain how Thuli disappeared. She’s so at ease with all this that I’m starting to wonder whether I should be worried about her.