Chapter Twelve - These.

“I am really invested in the idea of surviving, so what is the plan to make that happen?” 

Kama’s voice was a faraway whisper to Uloma, now that the things were in front of them. Those things crowded her senses. Her mind was theirs. They did not move when they reached her. They watched with those dark, empty, veiny sockets. She could feel their confusion; they were not seeing her, because they could not, they had stalked her and found Ekama, but lost Ekama when she shut her eyes. They sensed her presence. She knew because she felt the surging, overwhelming presence that was their shared consciousness. They were confused because they had not expected to find one of their own here; this awareness washed over her. 

“You.” 

One of them started to say. His bonny finger, slender and beautiful, pointed at her accusatorily. 

“This is a trick.” 

“What are you?” 

Gone was the sweet, melodious voice; they spoke in a nasal, hissing screech. They narrowed where their eyes were supposed to be at her. Uloma instinctively took a step back, pushing Ekama backwards as she moved, her hand protectively stretched out in front of her friend, to shield her. Run, her inside told her, but she was too far gone to listen.  

“One of us.” 

The other one said tentatively, as if testing the words. Uloma felt them try to reach for her mind, without success. She was not singular; her mind was stuck in theirs, and they could not untangle themselves from hers. She had bridged them. They could not untangle themselves, she felt them try. 

“Stop it!” 

They both let out a loud, nasal screech. Uloma dropped to the ground in a crouching position, her hands over her ears. She knew she had made a mistake the second the ringing in her ears stopped, because she could see Kama. 

“Kama, no.” 

She shouted, shooting to her feet, just as white dazzling light seized her, shocking her into immobilization. She saw grey and red zigzagging flashes. They zapped and stung her; the pain was intense, and she could not see or think past it. She realised she was spasming, the sound coming out of her was the exact screech of those things.  

The more conscious she became, the less the immobilising flashes stung. She started to feel a hand wrapping her in a hug. At the same time, she felt the flashes zap and sting the arm wrapped around her. They did not move, though, the hands held on to her until the stings and shocks she felt were only remnants of white pain. 

“You are okay, you are okay.” 

The owner of the hand repeated over and over, their lips buried in her hair. 

“You are okay.” 

She felt the voice inside her viscerally. It took her another second to realise the words were not being repeated just to comfort her. The voice was singing an enchantment into her. It was inside her, reminding her mind that it was singular, not a part of a hive. It was hers and solely hers. Coughing, she felt her body stir. 

“Let go of me.” 

Her voice was a husky, throaty sound that she did not recognise. The hand let her go because she was forcefully and urgently pushing against it. 

“Hey.” 

The voice started, but Uloma was retching; the contents of her stomach forced their way out of her. She vomited until the clamminess in her head subsided. 

“You are okay.” 

The voice had started up again. Uloma wiped her mouth with the loose edge of her wrapper, tasting the acidic tang of vomit at the end of her tongue. She closed her eyes and allowed his heavenly voice to wash over her. He was healing her, she knew now. 

“I did not know you were a healer.” 

She told him when she was back on her feet and her stomach and inside had settled again. 

“I wear many caps. That is why your mother requested me.” 

He said, turning away from her, she felt it viscerally when he shifted his attention from her; she missed his presence in her mind. She knew he was needed, but she did not want to face it. She did not want to face the things contorting, suspended in the air behind her. She had felt airborne when the white light seized her, even now, disconnected from them, her heart ached, remembering how painful the shocks were, how utterly confounding. ‘These things annihilate realms,’ her mind tried to remind her, knowing this did not keep her from wincing when she turned around to see Emenikes channelling Cosmic magic through wands crafted eons ago, from Tree’s samplings. 

Channelling magic was something the Realm of Death did. Magic only exists here through a medium; the strain of channelling something foreign to their existence was visible on Emenike, and they were barely holding up. In their midst, Ekama stood conjuring and manipulating the element to lend their magic strength. Free from healing her, Eligwe was lending himself to the wands. Uloma could see the tattoo of his family trailing the length of the wand. Uloma stood there frozen, unsure of what to do. When it looked like the force of containing the things was going to overwhelm them, she found herself joining the effort. 

“No. Stay away from it.” 

She heard Emenike rebuke her in her head. A loud boom resounded through the night, and the flashing lights, the things, and Emenike vanished. Where there was light and sound, there was nothing. The silence and darkness were both simultaneously blinding and deafening. All three of them stood watching the space in front of them. 

“We have to help the academy.” 

Eligwe said at last, snapping them out of their daze. Ekama’s head swivelled towards Uloma. 

“You shared a mind with those things.” 

She noted in a flat voice, Uloma knew she could deny it, but there was no strength left in her, so she nodded her ascent. 

“Was that your secret?” 

She asked Uloma, ‘Not really.’ Uloma thought there was so much more where that came from, but Ekama looked spent; she was sure Kama was at her wits' end at that moment, so she nodded again. Ekama nodded and sniffled. Her braids had come loose from when she was trying to help Emenike, and her eyes were a red, whirling storm. 

“You are nothing like those things. Do you hear me? I don’t care what happened tonight, you are not one of them. Do you understand?” 

Her voice was forceful, almost urgent. Even in her exhaustion, she was managing to call on her wind. Uloma nodded again, unshed tears felt stuck in her throat. 

“Nothing that happened here tonight leaves this place.” 

She continued. It was easy to see that she was the daughter of an elite; she was used to calling the shots. Uloma nodded. It felt like that was all she could do; she could not trust herself to use her voice just yet. 

“I was not talking to you.”  

Kama nodded towards Eligwe. 

“I was talking to him.” 

“Your secret is safe with me, but your school is crumbling as we speak. Well, not your school, to be exact, your schoolmates.” 

If only Kama knew how much Eligwe knew, Uloma thought, out loud she said; 

“What?” 

Having registered the end of what Eligwe had said. 

“They attacked your school first as a diversion, before they came after you.” 

He told Uloma. Any other normal being would have said that with a sense of urgency, but even though he sounded serious, he did not look like he was in a hurry to act. 

“Why are we still standing around?” 

Kama asked him, and he shrugged again. 

“I was waiting to help you travel, you have spent too much of yourself, to do it on your own. And trust me, you will need your strength.” 

He talked fast, silencing the protest Ekama had tried to make. Uloma wanted to tell him that he had spent himself as well, but he took her hand, and the warmth of his palm on hers felt almost as good as his mind inside of hers. He stretched his other hand to Ekama, she reluctantly took it, and they vanished into oblivion and reappeared in the academy. 

~ 

The school was crumbling, Uloma gasped. 

“It is alive, and protesting the pain and chaos sown into it.” 

He explained, clearly reading her expression, but that was not what worried Uloma; she had seen this before. In the vision, the beautiful woman, the first of those things, had shown her. 

“Ekama, use your elements. Try to remind the school that it cannot burn but also put out the fire as much as you can, because as long as it believes it is burning, that fire is real.” 

“What can I do?” 

Uloma asked Eligwe. Ekama was already at work, planting her feet on the ground, one in front of the other, in a wrestling stance, her hand stretched towards the school.  

Eligwe shot her a funny look, as if she had asked a silly question, as he vanished into engulfing flames and fumes.  

Cosmics littered around, coughed, and sputtered. Beings made of clay, crystals, metals, and plants were bearing the most effect from the fire. Uloma rushed over to them. In the flames, she saw Echi, who was pulling people out of the school, and Asiya assisted Abali, who was leaning heavily on her small frame. 

“Give him here.” 

She heard Echi use his voice. Uloma felt her heart falter. Abali, she thought, running towards him and abandoning the Tree-sap Cosmic she had been helping, he was smoking when she approached him, his bushy afro singed from flames that should not have been there. His fluid body shook when she mindlessly released his hands from hers; her only thought was Abali’s blackened form, leaning on Echi. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got him. Go help the others.” 

Echi waved her away. Asiya had disappeared back into the flames and fumes. 

“What happened to him?” 

Uloma cried, ignoring the effort of Echi to wave her off. 

“He was helping rescue flammable Cosmics from the fire.” 

He told her. 

“He is not flammable. Why is he hurt?” 

Uloma cried, fussing over Abali, tears streaked down her face for the first time that night. 

“The school is not real, the fire should not be real, we think it is bending the rules. Emenikes will set things right when they get there. Where are they?” 

He asked. He looked disheveled, his flames changing colors without pausing. When he asked about Emenike, it sounded to Uloma like it was not the first time he had asked that question that night. Uloma felt the usual guilt rise through her stomach. They had chosen to save her over thousands of Cosmics; how could they be so biased and callous? Suddenly, the gratitude for being rescued was gone. 

Eligwe strolled out of the fire, carrying Asi and pulling Teni after him. Uloma started when she saw her sister. She ran over to him, crying, and tried to pull her sister out of his arms. But Eligwe looked annoyed for the first time since they had met. 

“What are you doing?” 

He asked her in a clipped tone; there was tenseness in his voice, like he was trying to control his annoyance. She looked back at him, confused. What was he talking about? 

“They woke up the mind of the academy, and convinced it that it was on fire.” 

Uloma still watched him, confused. She knew about the fire, but why was he sounding annoyed with her? 

“What are you waiting for?” 

He asked her angrily, and Uloma’s brows furrowed. 

“I don’t understand what you want me to do.” 

She told him. He closed his eyes and sighed. 

“I forget how untrained you are. You know so little.” 

His words stung something profound in her heart. How could the person who had made her feel so safe and warm be the same person glaring at her now? The flames illuminating his face intensified his annoyance. Still, Uloma was not sure what he wanted from her. 

“Your mind knows where theirs has been. It was there with them. You saw this; you have been here before. Undo what they have done.”