CHAPTER TWENTY -A DECISION.

The forest, still as always, felt like a backdrop to Abali. Uloma was increasingly becoming aware of him as she sat between his legs, thinking. He was filling up the space around them, and she felt like she could reach out in front of him and touch him. 

“Are you casting yourself?” 

She asked him eventually, unable to maintain the silence. She felt him smile behind her. He was potently palpable. Uloma adjusted her sitting so that she was facing him. His eyes were barely visible. He was keeping them half open. The brown irises were barely there. The whites of his eyes covered most of the sockets. Sometimes she forgets how powerful he was, how powerful they all were. 

“Are you okay?” 

He asked, dodging her question, and she rolled her eyes at him. She sniffed, wiping away the tears with the back of her palm, and nodded. Without warning, he snatched her palm from her face and, still holding her hand, he traced the lines from her tears with his thumb. She should have expected it. He was like this all the time with her. Still, her breath hitched in her lungs, and her chest tightened. 

“To answer your first question, you wanted to be left alone, so I made certain that you were.” 

Breathe, she scolded her lungs. She was over him. How could she forget that she was over him? 

“If it's all right with you, I will hug you now. You gave me quite the scare earlier. You gave us all quite the scare.” 

He did not wait for her response; he wrapped her in his arms. Home, her body sang, sinking into this vast being. He was encompassing, and yet he was safe. She was falling apart, but he would hold her together; his body seemed to promise her. A second later, she pulled out of his embrace, her heart racing in tandem. 

“No.” 

She heard herself whisper, backing away from him, no, not him too. 

“Uloma.” 

He called softly, but she shook her head and backed further away until her back was pressed against a tree. Her eyes pleaded with him, but his soft, sweet smile told her everything she was denying. 

“I’m all right, I promise.” 

He was resorting to his soothing tone again, the one reserved for his animals. 

“I did not mean for any of this to happen.” 

She heard her own shaky voice. Uloma wanted to have imagined it, but the soothing, calming look he wore seemed to be for her benefit. The strum she had heard from his chest could not be his heartbeat. It just could not. Her inside felt as wobbly as she sounded. 

“It only happens when something outside of my control happens to you. When I cannot help you.” 

Abali tried to assure her. Her mouth dropped open, and words would not come out. The smile fell away from his face, and she heard a clattering, a sound that accompanied the breaking of her heart. He blamed himself for what she did? The realisation gutted her. 

“I should have done more to keep you safe. I failed you. It was the one thing Death asked of my father; it was the one thing I was supposed to do as your friend.” 

Shaking her head in annoyance, Uloma leaped to her feet. Of course, her mother was somehow involved in this. 

“How could you have protected me?” 

“I don’t know, but I should have tried harder.” 

His face was turned away from her. She did this to him. She could taste his guilt, and it was tearing her inside. 

“There was nothing you could have done. This is me we are talking about.” 

She pulled his chin so that his unseeing eyes were on her. 

“My mother replaced you with Eligwe. She had no right to do that.” 

She should be angry and feel betrayed that Abali was in her life, given that her mother had put him there, but how could she? When she could feel a heartbeat inside of him. He should not have a heart, and yet there was the thump, thump of a palpitating heart. He was coming alive because of her. She could not doubt his friendship and his devotion to her. 

A thought occurred to her; her mother replaced him with Eligwe, and so had she. She was truly a Death. 

“Uloma.” 

He said her name as if he were making a wish. Her heart raced at the way he said her name. 

“Yes.” 

She managed between breaths.  

“Will you tell me what happened? You woke up crying.” 

“You have a heartbeat, Abali. It's because of me, it's all because of me.” 

Abali shook his head. His face was covered again in a soft smile, and the shadows moving through the forest. 

“I am fine.” 

He promised. 

“Why did you wake up wallowing?” 

He sensed her sadness; they all could. Uloma pushed down her guilt. A hiccup rose through her, viscerally shaking her and her beads. 

“Oge has a daughter.” 

“You mean, you?” 

He asked confusedly, and she shook her head, telling him all about Oma. His brows were furrowed in confusion by the time she was finished. 

“She went into your space in your mind? I thought only your mother could do that. And you had no powers when you were human. 

“I know! That is what is so annoying. She should not be able to do everything I witnessed her do. She already has Oge.” 

Abali raised his left eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting in a genuine smile that eventually covered all of his face. 

“You are jealous. Are you serious? Humans tend not to take to people who are different from them. If that girl lets on that she has abilities humans shouldn’t have, well...” 

He did not have to finish the sentence; humans were the most volatile of creatures. Oma was also in danger from them, just as much as she could be in danger from those things. 

“So, do you know why she has these abilities?” 

He asked, and Uloma shook her head for the millionth time. She was shaking her head a lot, she thought, sighing. 

“But I bet Mother knows. She says she is trying to protect Oma, but she won’t tell me anything about her. The problem is, if those things can sense me, the chances that they can also sense Oma are very high. She is putting Oge in danger, and for what?” 

She was ranting. She had not been paying attention to much else, but Abali’s irises had returned, and they were round and serious. 

“What do you mean by those things can sense you?” 

“Oh, I think they feel my existence. I can also sense them.” 

She told him about her dreams, and the incredulous look on his face grew. 

“Uloma, you are walking minds like Oma, like Death.” 

She had not thought of it that way, but he was right. It was not a real mind, though. It was only the minds of those things. Then again, Death only walked her mind. 

“Okay, how and why can those things sense you? Do you know?” 

She nodded, the beads on her hair bobbing with her. 

“Sort of, I will tell you, but I think I owe it to Ekama to tell her as well. She has been really patient, for Ekama.” 

“Not a word I will associate with her, but if you say so.” 

He joked, and Uloma smiled, grateful that he could still keep things light. She was barely standing straight from the barrage of information of the last months, which she had to live through. 

“We should go.” 

She told him. Promises to her mother and sister needed to be bent a little. He took her hand and vanished into oblivion with her.