CHAPTER TWELVE - THREE DEATHs.

“Goat.” 

Ekama called from behind Uloma. Ekama, Uloma’s heart breathed. She was falling apart just standing there, by Emenike’s door in this incredibly soothing waiting room, which was not in any way soothing for Uloma. Hearing Ekama’s voice, Uloma let out a breath she was unaware she had been holding. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Uloma asked Ekama, who was irritatingly tapping her on the shoulder to get her attention, as if they were not already standing face to face. Ekama was her usual self, scowling at Uloma as if she would like to thump her on the head. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Ekama repeated, mocking Uloma. The blue hue of the light from all the symbols and numbers above turned her usual stormy grey eyes blue. It was comforting just looking at this creature of chaos, Uloma sighed. 

“You ignored me at the party yesterday.” 

Ulo accused in a voice that carried a lot of annoyance and grudge. They scowled at each other, looking very close to pouncing. Hurt or love, Ekama was a consistent dilemma for Uloma. Ekama rolled her eyes at her friend, breaking the scowl first. 

“Everyone agreed that you needed the space, stupid.” 

Uloma raised an eyebrow. What did she mean by everyone? Who and whom were they discussing her with? Uloma wondered, not liking the idea of being talked about. 

“Who is everyone, please?” 

Uloma asked, and Ekama looked immediately like she wished she hadn’t said anything. 

“Okay. Okay, don’t be angry, but Ekani and Abali were saying I was too pushy, and you just needed to clear your head.” 

Uloma laughed. It was incredulous. They were all buddying up now? 

“Look, I know we don’t like Ekani, but she had a point; you did need the space.” 

Ekama continued, filling Uloma’s uncomfortable silence, because if Uloma had been scowling before, she now looked like she could hurt Ekama with her scowl. 

“We don’t like Ekani?” 

Uloma laughed. It took them just one afternoon to become best of friends. Uloma could feel her anger climbing; it was at least better than the stomach-eating anxiety she had been feeling. 

“You do like her.” 

Uloma was unsure how angry she should be about this realization, but she was furious. 

“Fine, but you know the deal, it doesn’t matter how I feel about someone, if you don’t like them, I will slaughter them. For you.” 

Ekama said, Uloma knew it was true, but she was too angry to care. 

“Just not last night?” 

Uloma asked innocently. 

“Okay, oya walk past that. You know me. If we were together last night, I would have badgered you, right?” 

Uloma was still seething, but it was true. Ekani was always irritatingly right about anything and everything. There was nothing likable about that creature, Uloma thought, not wanting to spare any kindness. Ekama cocked her head like one of Abali’s creatures, her eyes roamed Uloma’s face. 

“How are you?”  

She asked, focusing on Uloma’s eye bags and the dark purple strings snaking and pulsing through Uloma’s hair. She moved closer to Uloma and wrapped her hand around her friend. Uloma did not want to, but she was so tired, her head rested on Ekama’s shoulder, not minding her anger. 

“You fish. You had us all worrying. I couldn't eat, and I couldn't sleep. I could hardly breathe.” 

Ekama said into Uloma’s beaded hair. Killing Ekama flashed through Uloma's head, and she started to giggle, shaking from the force of it. She tried, but without success, to push Ekama away. 

“Tah. You are the worst.” 

Uloma said, still trying to push her friend off, she was giggling so much it was impossible to do much else. Ekama soon joined her; they were both shaking uncontrollably in fits of giggles. 

“So, when did you even start eating and breathing?” 

Uloma hiccupped and, still holding on to her tightly, shook her head. 

“When you started fulfilling prophecy. How am I supposed to stay sane when you perform miracles every time I am not watching over you?” 

Uloma pulled her head away from Ekama’s shoulder. 

“You have a point there.” 

She agreed, as Ekama finally let go of her, her usually dubious eyes full of poorly disguised concern. Uloma found herself smiling. It was not intentional; she had had knots in her stomach, but Ekama was a professional when it came to distracting her. 

 “Come in.” 

Uloma heard Emenike say in her head. She was not even aware that her guards were down enough for him to do that. He knew what he was doing with the waiting room and its soothing ambiance. Ekama did not help either when you wanted to put up guards. She made everything feel simple, Uloma thought, her chaotic Ekama was a soothing presence when she was in the mood for it. 

“Before you go in there.” 

Ekama pulled Uloma back, pausing dramatically. 

“What?” 

Uloma asked impatiently. 

“It's an ambush, Ulo.” 

Ekama replied, her eyes searching her friend’s face again. What was she looking for? Uloma wondered. She was wearing playfulness, Uloma could tell; the static tension around Ekama was building. Not visibly, but for someone who has been around Kama all these years, it was clear enough for Uloma to feel. Kama was never one to hide anything successfully. 

“That is why you are here.” 

Uloma asked. Ekama shrugged. 

“No, I came for Emenike. I missed him.” 

Ekama retorted, shimming past Ulo. She walked towards the door, her tiny waist shaking as she went. Here we go, to be told how weird you are, Uloma thought, attempting to push open the ridiculously curved oak door that led into Emenike’s office. Ekama stood in front of the door batting her lashes. Ulo ignored her. She focused on the door, which seemed to have no idea what sandpaper was. It was silly how that door never caused any splinters; it should have, so that someone would have an excuse to chop it down. It did look to Uloma like it was begging to be chopped down, but Uloma decided, eying it maliciously. She sighed when the door heaved open, already exasperated. The meeting hadn’t even started. Inside, Emenike was beaming at her. 

“No, no. None of that disgruntles.” 

Emenike boomed from behind the silly tall oak desk; she could feel his voice rumble in her stomach. He was sitting on his silly, important-looking, red chair, with his irritating white beard. His annoying, occult robe, which changed colors, seemed to wink at her. He was the embodiment of everything happy, and usually Uloma’s favorite person, but she wished he and his winking robe would go extinct in that moment. 

“Someone is thinking unkind thoughts.” 

Ekama chirped, her eyes twinkling. Uloma scowled daggers at her friend, who appeared not to care. 

“My runaway student. Come in, come in. No eye rolls, we talked about eye rolls. Where do eyes that roll go?” 

Emenike sang in his rich bass voice. 

“On your robe.” 

Ulo recited back, holding back an eye roll. Emenike had taken away her eyes once; he was not joking. Ulo looked around the office, her scowl deepening. It was, as usual, filled top to bottom with old books, scrolls, and ‘first editions.’ Whatever those were, they were all his prized possessions, but his books were not the only occupants of the room at the moment. 

“Sis.” 

Asiya greeted in her weird purple glittering robe, her black evil eyes watching Ulo. Maybe her eyes did not look dubious at that precise moment, but they usually were, Ulo thought, ignoring her sister’s greeting. Standing beside her seated sister were Abali and a light-skinned boy Uloma had never seen before. The boy spared her only a second glance as if she was not worth more than a second of his appraisal or attention. But he had Uloma’s attention; she felt fleetingly annoyed at being dismissed by this beautiful man with the height of a Heavenly. Even beside tall Abali, the boy’s height stood out. He was thin rather than muscular; his elegant hand rested on the chair in front of him. Uloma felt herself assuring her head that she was not spending so much time thinking about him because he was cute. It was his rudeness that caught her attention, she told herself, forcing her eyes away from his long skirt that flowed down his skinny body. Abali and this boy in one room was too much for a room; they occupied the room as if it had been created just for them, as if the room only existed to host them. She mentally shook herself. Who was this perfectly rude man? She wondered even as her eyes grudgingly looked away. 

“Ulo, Ulo, Ulo.” 

Someone sang in a familiar, melodious voice. Melodious to Uloma because hearing it was like cold water on a sweltering day. Ulo stood still for a fraction of a second before she bolted towards the voice. She jumped when she reached the owner of the voice, and angled around in mid-air, throwing herself into Odima’s tiny arms. 

“Sister.” 

Uloma breathed. Odima hugged her with frail arms that did not feel frail. She was strong, even though, like all Uloma’s other sisters, she was as tiny as a sprite. 

“When did you get here?” 

Uloma asked happily, forgetting all her anxiety for a moment. 

“She came because you have an ouchy and a booboo. All the realms are turning on their axis because you have a problem, typical.” 

Asiya answered before Odim could, and there she finally was! The maliciously dubious creature, Uloma, ignored her and focused on her favorite sister. Her sisters were the Five Daughters of Death. The Five Ends of Everything; Asiya was the last End, the fifth. Odim was the third. Her duty was as sweet as she was in nature. She was the end of chivalry. Not that she ended chivalry, she was the one who helped suffering or dead martyrs pass over. 

She was fiendishly strong for someone so sweet and tiny. Ulo loved her the best of all her sisters. The feeling was mutual; Ulo was Odim’s favorite sister, Ulo could tell. She was here, wasn’t she? Checking up on her when her mother was nowhere to be seen. 

“Sis, she is acting the distressed role again. She is only attention seeking.” 

Asiya whined; her lips pursed. Jealous goat, Ulo smiled to herself, secretly enjoying her sister’s annoyance. 

“We will not be unkind to each other, not while I am here. I don’t want to hear it.” 

Odim scolded Asi, and she gingerly placed Uloma on the ground. 

“Ha.” 

Ulo caught herself saying before she could stop herself. 

“That goes for you as well.” 

Odim said sternly. Ulo caught Asi hiding a smile, the evil wench, Uloma thought, narrowing her eyes. 

“I am always one for family rivalry, but so much needs discussing, come, come, sit. And Odima must need to be on her way as early as it can be arranged.” 

Emenike boomed. 

“Correct?” 

He asked, looking at Odima pointedly. No realm wanted to be a place where Deaths congregated. That is why there were never any family gatherings for the sisters. Two Deaths in training in one realm were manageable. Three of them; whether the other two were in training was inconsequential. It was not suitable for any realm. Uloma knew this, and so did everyone else in the room. Odima nodded, her bow and arrows slung behind her back, and her knife carefully tucked inside her lower wrapper, made her appear formidable. Uloma beamed with pride; her sister’s choice of weapons for cutting the soul from the body was as incredible as she was. 

“My sisters needed me. They are both lost. Ulo is too young for all these responsibilities you are about to impose on her. And Asi needs a listening ear. I will go, but I need to know that you are doing everything you can for them both.” 

Odim crossed her hand over her chest, her body posed as if preparing for a fight. Emenike stared at her for a second and nodded in agreement. Uloma was unsure if this was because he understood her worries or because he knew not many people were prepared to see the other side of sweet old Odima. 

“Stay for a very short while. I will ensure to fortify our defenses against rips. You are right, your sisters need you.” 

The relief Uloma felt was evident on both her sisters. 

“We must discuss the matter at hand now if all has been settled on that matter.” 

The boy from before spoke, and the room seemed to bend towards him. Uloma felt herself giving him more attention than that statement required. Abali, beside him, grimaced as if he were eating unripe udara when he saw Uloma looking at the man beside him. Uloma knew she should be offended by the brisk manner in which he had spoken about her and her sisters, and she was, but oh, to always hear him speak. 

“If you will all mind an old man for a second, let's all sit.” 

Emenike said, his usual twinkling eyes grave. He waved a hand, pulling them all from the office into a larger room. This room was a bland, white space with chairs arranged around a large, long table. Uloma could viscerally feel the emptiness in the room as they took their places around the table. 

“Is aura deprivation necessary?” 

Odima asked, sitting between Asiya and Ulo. 

“Precautionary. Forces beyond our understanding are at work here. We must be careful.” 

Emenike said. Uloma looked over at Abali for the first time, truly taking in his appearance. She wanted his usual reassurance. What was Emenike talking about? Weren’t they all here to talk about her? Uloma could feel the usual gnawing anxiety again. Abali was here, though; he was her stability. But Abali was leaning into Ekama. Uloma felt the anxiety give way to dread. Something was wrong. He was fine a second ago, Uloma thought, watching him; he looked exhausted. She felt the panic for him catch at her, grabbing for her metaphoric heart. What was happening to him? He appeared to be depreciating by the second. The boy seemed to have noticed where she was looking. 

“He is more darkness than any of you. He cannot truly exist in this room.” 

The boy explained in a tone devoid of any emotion. How a voice that beautiful could sound so cold was beyond Uloma, but for once since she met him, he was the least of her worries. Abali looked like he was only seconds from becoming nothing. Why was he here if the boy was right about his inability to exist here? Uloma was panicking. Why bring him here if he cannot exist in this room? 

“Emenike?” 

She called, pushing out of her seat. She was by Abali’s side in a heartbeat. She pulled him away from Ekama and held on to him instead. He was barely there; it felt like holding on to a memory quickly fading away. 

“You are all a stubborn bunch, the lot of you. The only people required in this room are me, Asiya, and Ogwu-Eligwe.” 

Emenike said, shaking his head at the group, his occult hat on his head moving from side to side. 

“Make it quick, then, the boy is fading.” 

Odima snapped. 

“He does not have to be here. He knows that.” 

Ogwu-Eligwe said his handsome face seemed bored with the whole situation. 

“I am not leaving her.” 

Abali croaked in Uloma’s arms. 

“Idiot, you are fading.” 

Uloma scolded; she could barely feel him in her arms now. 

“I go where you go, Ulo.” 

Was he trying to smile? The fool. 

“Then I am leaving.” 

Uloma announced. 

“No, you are not. You are a threat to the fabric of reality; do you not understand that?” 

Ogwu-Eligwe said, standing up from his chair, it was the first time Ulo had seen any emotions on his fair face that did not betray his boredom. But Ulo could not care any less for him in that moment if she tried. Abali was barely there. She was trying to leave the room, but the emptiness she felt when she first came into this room grew stronger at every attempt. Odima was off her seat now, standing behind the three friends. 

“Ulo is only a child.” 

Odima yelled at Ogwu-Eligwe. 

“A child that would end us all.” 

Ogwu-Eligwe retorted in a leveled voice. 

“How about I end you right now?” 

Ekama asked him, but he only looked at her as if she bored him, as if she were a petulant child bothering him, an adult. 

“Enough. The lot of you.” 

Emenike boomed.  

“I should not have a headache as a creature of the cosmos, but somehow, I suspect this ache at the back of my head is a headache. Ulo, you can leave with him. However, I would like a meeting with just you, Ogwu-Eligwe, and Asiya. Do you understand me? Your training needs to begin.” 

Emenike pulled off his hat from his head, exposing a mess of white hair. He rubbed at his temple and forehead as if trying to rub the occupants of the room away from his head. What training was he referring to? Uloma wondered with the small part of her mind not focused on Abali. 

“What training?” 

Ekama asked. 

“The one mother came here to inform Emenike and me about. The one that made her go to the kingdom of the Heavenly, to hijack one of their princes.” 

Asiya supplied. 

“What?” 

Uloma asked, confused. 

“No, no. I have had enough of all of you for one millennial. Go.” 

Emenike declared, waving them away. 

“But...” 

Ekama argued. 

“Go, go, go. All of you.” 

He boomed. They were outside the Tree in the blink of an eye. Abali lay sprawled on the grass outside the tree, his head on Uloma’s arms. The usual rain drizzle of their realm was a welcome relief as every drop that fell fell more solidly on him than the last. Uloma knew she was holding her metaphoric breath. She could feel the others watching her. Everyone had made it out of the tree, everyone but Ogwu-Eligwe. Ulo realized she did not want to notice his absence, not with Abali barely in her arms. She watched him with the attention of a hawk; they were all watching him now. Please, she thought, please wake up. 

“We should take him to your palace. It is no use standing around like this.” 

Odima volunteered. But Uloma could not get herself to move. She held on to his body, rapidly returning to its solid form in her arms, afraid that the slightest movement would jinx his recovery. She willed him to open his eyes with everything in her. 

“Ulo.” 

Ekama pleaded. But nothing would move her. She sniffed, the tears she was holding back compelling her runny nose. 

“I was so mean to him yesterday.” 

She heard the hollowness in her voice. Odima came over and put her hand on her shoulder; she sat beside Uloma. 

“Why would Emenike take us to the Waiting, knowing Abali would not survive it?” 

Uloma asked her sister, her eyes welling up, but she would not let the tears out. It was guilt she felt more than anything. Guilt over the way she had treated him the night before.  

“Ulo, Abali is very stubborn; he would not listen to reason. Emenike tried. He was not going to let you face any part of this alone.” 

Odima explained, putting her hand around her sister. Uloma felt her chest swell; she felt the tears fall, and they would not stop. Ekama was on the other side of her friend, silently lending her strength. 

“If it is of any consolation, he is returning. But whatever, whine as always. I have places to be. Also, I would rather you not be consoled, so continue with your pity party.” 

Asi said, walking away. 

“Where are you going, Asi? She is right, by the way. He is going to be okay.” 

Odima said, gesturing to Abali’s form that was beginning to stir. She looked over at Asiya’s retreating form. 

“Asi, where are you going?” 

Odim called again after her sister. Both of them so alike in looks and stature, it would be easy to mistake one for the other, Uloma mused, watching them. 

“I am going anywhere but here. Tired of Miss Center of attention. It's always about her, isn't it?” 

Asi called over her shoulder. Odima went after her, yelling all the time for her to stop. When she caught up to her, she yanked Asi to a stop. 

“Hey.” 

She called. 

“What?” 

 Asi yelled back. 

“I am her daughter, too. I am your sister. Doesn’t that mean anything? She breaks a nail, and Mother comes after me, wanting me to babysit her. Is that even fair?” 

Asi sounded furious, Uloma, for once, did not take offense at this anger. In her arms, Abali stirred again and sat up slowly. Everyone turned to look at him, their concern all his. 

“Hey.” 

Uloma whispered tenderly, searching his eyes. The worry in her eyes was enough to pull him upright. 

“I am fine.” 

He smiled reassuringly at her. 

“I promise.” 

He insisted when she did not look convinced, letting his palm caress her face. 

“You are sure?” 

She insisted, and he nodded. 

“This is what I mean. Centre of everything. She always has to be the center of attention.” 

Asiya said, walking away, Odima held her back. 

“Asi, I came because our sister is in distress. But also, because I have missed my baby sister. We all wanted to come, but we know how uncomfortable that would make everyone.” 

Asiya sniffled as if her frustration was threatening to run down her nose. 

“Sisi, you were the last of us; you will always be our baby. Uloma, you know, sprang up on us.” 

Odima pulled her little sister into a hug. 

“She is not even the Death of anything like us.” 

Asi sniffled on her sister’s arm. 

“Exactly, just a weirdo that now wants all our jobs.” 

Odima soothed, making Uloma giggle. Odima motioned for her to join in the hug, she waved her over, the look in her eyes melting Uloma’s heart. Uloma found herself running towards her sister. The closest thing to a mother she had in the realms was Odima. 

“My ears will be on the ground, okay, baby?” 

Odima assured her, spreading her arm for Uloma to join in the hug. 

“Mother means well, but you know she cannot meddle. I, on the other hand, do not care for the rules. So, call me whenever.” 

She said, first kissing Asiya's head and then Uloma’s. They saw her vanish, long before they felt the absence of her embrace. 

“Asi.” 

Uloma called in a small voice. Asiya shot her a look that would have boiled her blood over if she had any. 

“Drop dead.” 

Asiya replied, walking away. But Uloma already felt dead. She was so tired. Just so exhausted, she thought, watching the retreating figure of her sister. 

“Are you alright?” 

Abali asked, standing beside her, his owl hopping up and down his shoulder, as if delighted to have Abali back. It warmed Uloma’s heart. She nodded to let him know that she was okay. 

“She will never change, will she?” 

Ekama said, approaching them. 

“Which one of my sisters are you a fan of now?” 

Uloma asked her, narrowing her eyes. 

“Well, neither of them is threatening to end reality as we know it, so my bet is on you now.” 

Ekama replied, throwing her hand around Uloma’s neck. 

“Really?” 

Uloma laughed, forgetting for a moment that she was a threat to life, forgetting for a moment that anxiety was this monster that now lived permanently in her stomach. 

“Now, can we talk briefly about what a hunk that Eligwe is?” 

Ekama said, matching Uloma easily, in step with her. Uloma felt her friend’s power coursing through her, but she did not mind. 

“You like men.” 

Uloma accused, chuckling. 

“I agree. But I am not the one he was watching with that brooding look in his eyes.” 

Ekama replied, laughing. 

“What? He sounded like he hated me.” 

“That is how it starts now.” 

Ekama said seriously, her eyes dancing. 

“Can we change the topic, please?” 

Abali suggested. He looked uncomfortable. 

“Nobody is forcing you to join this conversation, oh.” 

Ekama shot at him. The three friends squabbled on their way to Uloma’s palace. And for a small time, in that small moment, they were just young people. Young people without the worry of life and death, as they know it, coming to an end. 

“What is with that smoldering thing he does with his eyes?” 

Ekama asked, picking bluish, purple strands from her friend’s hair. 

“I know.” 

Uloma replied, and Abali groaned.