CHAPTER ELEVEN- EKAMA'S HOME.

Living with Ekama was an experience, Uloma thought as she glided more than wandered from one dark space to another. 

“You are getting on my nerves with all that walking about.” 

Ekama called to her in her head. Uloma halted on her walk. She was in another room with a waterfall and a lake shrouded in foggy darkness. 

“Why do you have a waterfall in your house?” 

“Why didn’t you?” 

Ekama’s voice came back to her, but instead of in her head, it echoed through the room, if you could call this a room. There was a whooshing sound, and Uloma was suddenly drenched in showers from the waterfall. That was her cue to exit the room, she thought. Turning around, she walked through a perceived door that appears every time she thinks of leaving a room in this house. The whooshing sound followed her; nothing strange there. The wind was a servant, or something of the sort. It wasn't very clear. To Uloma, it felt like knowing anything about the house would require taking a lesson on the dynamics of dimensions within a confined space. 

“Come to the dining room.” 

Ekama called again in her head. Uloma rolled her eyes at this. They did not even eat. Why did they need a dining room? 

“There you are.” 

Ekama greeted Uloma when she walked into the space that was supposedly the dining room. It was another dark space, with a foggy, ominous presence everywhere you turned. Colours in this house must be a crime, Uloma thought, coming to sit beside her friend, on a long dining table that almost spanned the length of the room. Small wooden bowls with blackened guavas and papayas lined the table like decoration.  

“These fruits are so disconcerting to see.” 

Uloma complained, throwing her friend a look. 

“Why? Because they are blackened?” 

“No, I know that is an illusion, it's just you and your mother don’t eat, why do you need so many fruits?” 

“So, somebody cannot have decorations in their own house again?” 

Uloma picked up a guava and bit into it, and the delicious, fleshy black juice filled her mouth. 

“We went overboard on the fruits and food for you, but Mother and I wanted to make you feel comfortable.” 

“You are also the embodiment of the weather. It's flashy and elaborate or nothing.” 

“We are not flashy, and what does elaborate even mean?” 

“You are sitting on a smoky apparition, and your table is pretending to be solid. Look, my hand can go through it, and your wind follows me around.” 

Uloma emphasised her point by waving her hand through the table a couple of times. The tingling sensation was soothing. 

“Uwele is harmless. He is just happy to have you around.” 

Ekama replied, shrugging her bead-adorned shoulder. 

“So, what is our plan for the evening? Yesterday you went off on your own and almost got mauled by that tall hunk.” 

Uloma shivered. Uwale was back, riffling through the contents of the table and causing Uloma’s braids and beads to dance. Uloma’s hands instinctively went to her neck to clutch her beads. 

“Uwale, get off the table, down boy.” 

Ekama whistled, and the legs of the table and their chair started to shake. 

“That is a good boy, my very good boy.” 

Ekama sang in an exaggerated voice. 

“Good boy? Our chairs are vibrating.” 

“Yes, Uwale is just excited he will settle down soon.” 

Uloma gave Ekama a wide-eyed, 'You're kidding me' stare. 

“You cannot ask him to settle down now?” 

Uloma asked, holding on tightly to the table that was sucking her hand into itself. She willed and willed it to be solid enough to get a handhold, but it stayed stubbornly whimsical. Her beads were threatening to fly off her neck, her wrappers billowed, and her chair shook, but Ekama appeared unfazed. 

“You cannot ask a wind to be tame, Ulom.” 

She said it as if Uloma was being ridiculous for having even suggested it, scoffing and shaking her head. Uloma raised her eyebrows incredulously at her friend. 

“You are being serious? Is this why you never invited me to your house before now? Because everything here is weird?” 

Uwale was, as promised, beginning to settle. He made a low ruffling noise as he eagerly passed through objects around the room. The dark chest of drawers behind them, the tall glass window shaped like a cross between triangles, squares, and circles, before it returned to their feet. Uloma felt the wind pressing against her legs, which gradually became a breeze and then a chill passing through her exposed skin. The chills she had become accustomed to, living in this house. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Uloma asked when she finally felt the contents of her stomach settle. Ekama was staring daggers at her with her stormy grey eyes. 

“You think my house is weird? Ulom, do you have any idea how Uloma-proofed this house is to accommodate you? Instead, you walk around moping and keeping to yourself. When you are not moping about, you are out harvesting until there is no energy in you to keep you upright, and then you wander in here and pass out.” 

Uloma brought her hand to her face, rubbing her face like she was trying to rub away Kama’s outburst. 

“You houseproofed your house, this house.” 

The scepticism in her voice was intentional; she did not know why, but she hated that Ekama was talking to her as if she were an ingrate. 

“Yes!” 

Ekama shouted at her. The wind around the room started up, but it was not Uwale; she could hear him whimpering through his rustling under the table. 

“I did not ask you to do that, and I am sorry if having me here is such a burden to you and your mother.” 

Ekama banged her fist against the table. Somewhere at the back of her mind, Uloma thought, ‘Oh, now the table wants to be solid?’ The lights from the torches around the room began to flicker out one by one, until the only light in the room was the moonlight filtering through the thick, blackened windows. The room was awash in silvery, shadowy light. 

“You think you are the only one hurting and scared? We all are, but you don’t see us shutting everyone out and acting like such a fireball.” 

Ekama shouted at her. Uloma sucked in a breath like she had been punched in the stomach. She blinked, wanting to keep herself from bursting, but Ekama was still going. 

“This whole realm has tried to show you that we are in this together, we will fight these things, but leave it to you to carry a chip on your shoulders. You are acting selfish and self-centred.” 

“The things? Only one of them wiped out my servants. It took just one to penetrate the defence of our realm.” 

Uloma yelled at her friend. The room was stormy with the wind crashing against everything. The effect was so deafening that they had to shout over it to be heard. 

“What did you say about your servants?” 

Ekama asked, no longer raging. 

“Oh, what did you think happened to them? You think I wiped out my house and they just vanished?” 

“Uloma, what happened to your servants?” 

“One of those things.” 

Uloma said with an air quote. 

“Ripped holes through their necks, just one of those things took away the death in every single one of my servants, including the ones that were there to shield and protect me.” 

Ekama’s eyes were wild and bulging. 

“You did not say anything.” 

She whispered. 

“What did you think happened?” 

“I don’t know, we were told those things came through, and you overcame them. You should have said something.” 

“Yes, and send the whole realm into a panic?” 

“No, I meant said something to me.” 

Ekama sounded hurt; the room had settled again. 

“I was too busy being selfish and self-centred, sorry.” 

Uloma pushed back her chair and dropped the half-eaten guava she had been gripping. It clattered and bounced off the table, falling to the ground. 

“I need some air.” 

She said over her shoulder, not bothering to give her friend another glance. 

“Come back, let's talk.” 

Ekama’s voice whispered in her head before Uloma shut her out. 

 
~ 

Ekama pulled Uloma’s shoulder back forcefully, her face heavier than a rain cloud. 

“I cannot keep chasing after you, Ulo.” 

She hissed. 

“Then don’t, for Death's sake, don’t.” 

Ekama raised an eyebrow, the emotions on her face quickly morphing into anger. The eyes were searching. She was seeing the realm of Death. Unease settled over Uloma, pulling her attention. The unease made her irritation at Kama boil over. 

“It’s my fault. Sorry, you are insufferable sometimes, you.” 

Uloma’s eyes darted around. She was trying to concentrate on Kama, but a familiar dread was growing inside her, just like in her nightmares. The eyes were looking at her. She was looking at herself? At Kama? When did she start to hone her skill of inner sight?  

“Are you even listening to me?” 

Ekama shouted at her. 

“I am, so stop suffering me.” 

Uloma answered her. She cocked her head to look at Kama, but she was seeing her, yet she was also seeing her. Something was not right. The knots in the depths of her stomach were screaming at her. Ekama started to attempt a reply when Uloma lunged at her and tackled her to the ground, her palm over Ekama’s mouth. It was only the element of surprise that had Ekama on the ground; she was already levitating from the ground, with Uloma on her. Uloma’s hand over her mouth was burning up. Lightning zapped around it, sending warning shock waves through her. 

“Stop it. Stay down.” 

Uloma hissed at her friend in annoyance. Something in Uloma’s inner eyes blinked. A lot of things, and they blinked all at the same time. Ekama mumbled something at her that sounded like a threat worse than the tiny volts of electricity that had been travelling through her. Uloma took her palm off Ekama’s mouth, yelping from the sting. 

“You have just two seconds to explain yourself.” 

Uloma ignored this. Her eyes darted around the darkness surrounding them. The moon was hiding behind a cloud. A moan reached them, and then a wail resounded, waking up other bone-chilling dirges. 

“The night is crying, so what?” 

Ekama asked her. Yes, so what? Uloma wondered, this was the Realm of Death. Dirges were a standard backdrop, much like birds and insects crying in the human world. The dread in her stomach was telling another story, a crippling story she was trying not to believe, but she knew she had felt them before, and these days, almost every time she fell into a slumber. She tried to focus on Ekama underneath her. 

“Not that, the silence underneath that, something is haunting, I feel it, I felt its eyes on you.” 

Ekama looked around her and whispered,  

“I don’t feel anything.” 

Uloma nodded. 

“That is exactly what worries me.” 

She whispered back, as she crawled off Ekama, taking care to stay low. She knew without thinking that they could not harm Kama if they could not see her; that worried her. She also knew that their mind was a hive; it troubled her that she was a part of that hive. 

“What do you think it is?” 

Uloma was about to reply when she felt the eyes again, several eyes this time. The hive had found them. She reached out her hand slowly to Ekama and whispered; 

“Run.” 

Uloma was up on her feet, trying to pull her friend up. Ekama glided to her feet, giving Uloma a sceptical stare. 

“Uloma, there is nothing out there. If there were, I would feel it.” 

Uloma ignored her, pulling her along, but Ekama was also pulling back. Uloma stumbled, and as she fell to the ground, she saw her. Not the same person, but another flawlessly beautiful being walking towards them. She was not alone; there were two more of them, each one smiling pristinely. They were coming out of the shadowy trees. Their white wrappers billowed in an imaginary breeze. They did not wear any beads, yet when their legs hit the earth, it made an imitative jiggling noise. 

“It's an ambush.” 

Ekama shouted. Uloma looked up at her friend. She was frantic, but she was not moving. 

“Listen to me, Kama, those things want you to look at them, you have to look away, close your eyes, please.” 

“I will fight them.” 

Ekama replied stubbornly, her jaw clenched, but there was a twinkle in her eyes that felt worse to Uloma than the empty feeling those things left inside her. Dread rose to her throat, threatening to choke her, but she had to protect Kama. Kama had no idea what they were about to face. She was too proud and stubborn to realise what danger they were in. 

“Okay, then it should be easy to look away from them, right? So do it. Look away.” 

Uloma told her. The things didn't move quickly. They were taking their time to advance at them, almost like they didn’t foresee a challenge. The dirges grew, moans and screeches filled the air, and the familiar night sounds were taking on a new meaning. They were no longer the soothing sound of nighttime, but a blood-curdling warning. Uloma saw the look on Ekama’s face when she realised she could not look away. Her breathing quickened; her chest rose as if it was trying to run out on her. 

“Ekama, listen to me.” 

Uloma spoke slowly, her speech speed matching her movement. 

“I am going to help, okay? You have to trust me.” 

Uloma rose fully to her feet, keeping an eye on the advancement of the things. Their shadows stalked and moved upright, like even they were a copy and not the real thing. She put her hand over her friend’s eyes. The relief on Ekama was instant; she gasped and let out a loud cry. 

“Put your palm over mine.” 

Uloma instructed urgently. The dread was becoming sickening. It was taking all her willpower not to double over and wretch. She could barely breathe. Her heart raced. She wanted to bolt from the overwhelming assault her senses were feeling, but she kept her head on Ekama; she was all that mattered. Something inside her kicked, threatening to pull her apart. 

“Feeling better?” 

She asked Ekama instead, ignoring herself. Kama nodded. 

“Keep your eyes closed.” 

Uloma warned her. 

“Why can’t I feel them?” 

“I don’t know, but the dread you are feeling is their essence.” 

Ekama was shaking like her breeze had taken control of her muscles.  

“It is not your fear; they are projecting, they are trying to break into your mind, but as long as you are unable to see them, they cannot completely bridge you.” 

Ekama nodded to this. Of course, it was not Ekama’s fear. Ekama did not know fear. Uloma thought, watching her friend shaking like a leaf in the wind. 

“What are we going to do now?” 

Uloma shot the things a glare. They had weaved past the trees and were sauntering through the clearing, drawing even closer. There was no rush in their movement. It was calculated to instill the ultimate dread in their victims. 

“Ulom, you seem to know so much about these things.” 

Only a yard of space separated them now, no trees or dead grass, just feet of dark soil. It was taking every strength and training in her not to bolt. She could see that Ekama was facing the same struggle. It felt like they were prey meeting their natural predators for the first time. 

“I can’t see them, and I cannot feel them. How can I hope to fight them? You know so much about these things, Ulo.” 

Ekama repeated. 

“That is because I have had to cross paths with them more times than I would want.” 

Ekama’s eyes almost shot open, but she caught herself and shut them again. 

“I know, not the time to reveal secrets, but if we manage to make it out unextinct, I will never again keep secrets from you.” 

“Good, since you know so much, what do we do now?” 

Ekama asked her. Uloma squared her shoulders in reply. 

“We survive.” 

She hissed as the things came to stand in front of them.