Unravelled (13 page)

Lebz’s mother drops us off at Wiki’s house the next morning. Lebz is still downcast. I squeeze her hand.

“Stop worrying,” I whisper, as we lift the latch on the gate.

Wiki’s dog, a huge mutt called Darth, comes bounding over to greet us, tongue lolling. Wiki insisted on naming him Darth (after Darth Vader from
Star Wars
) in the hope that he would grow up to be fierce, but it didn’t quite work out that way. Lebz squeals as the dog raises his paws, places them squarely on her shirt and licks her.

“I told you not to wear white,” I remark with a grin.

“Bad dog!” she says, but Darth can tell she doesn’t really mean it. She shakes her head, patting his large head. “Where’s the fool who named you?”

“Insulting me so early in the day, Lebz?” Wiki stands in the doorway, eyeing us with amusement. “Maybe I shouldn’t let you in.”

“Then you’ll never find out what we learned yesterday,” I point out, pushing him gently into the house.

We greet his mother and elder sister, who are on their way out, and wave at his brother, who is watching cartoons on the living room floor.

“Let’s talk in my room,” suggests Wiki, leading us through the house.

His room is almost as neat as Rakwena’s. Everything is in its place, neatly stacked on the desk or shelf. The problem is that there is just too much of everything, giving the impression that the precarious towers of books and DVDs might collapse at any moment.

We park ourselves on the edge of his bed while he goes to his closet to retrieve the File. He sits at the other end of the bed and places the File between us.

“You go first,” he says.

Lebz looks at me, and I nod for her to begin. Wiki frowns thoughtfully through her report, but makes no comment. After I’ve recounted my discussion with Duma, he nods slowly.

“Everything you’ve just said only confirms my suspicions.” There’s a note of excitement in his voice. “I did some research yesterday, keeping in mind everything we’ve learned so far about this Cresta Crew, and especially about Spencer and Kelly.”

“And you found something?” Lebz inches forward.

Wiki nods. “I think I know what Spencer is – what they all are.” He pushes the File towards me. “Page 50.”

I glance at Lebz, whose eyes are wide with dread, and then I open the File and turn the pages. 47, 49…50. The heading at the top of the page catches me off guard. It wasn’t what I was expecting at all. I don’t know what I was expecting. I look up into Wiki’s eyes. “You think he’s an
incubus
?”

Lebz peers at the File over my shoulder. “A what?”

“It fits,” says Wiki. “The good looks, irresistible charm, the effect they have on girls. And the way Kelly’s responding to Spencer – it’s as if she’s getting weaker, but she can’t bear to stop seeing him. She doesn’t realise what he’s doing to her.”

“Wait first, guys – I’m lost,” Lebz protests. “What the hell is an incubus?”

Wiki takes the File back and starts to read. “Incubus: a male demon believed to feed on the energy of women. In some myths the creature is said to have intercourse with women while they sleep. Most versions of the incubus myth state that the creature uses sexual intercourse or some magical power to feed off the innocent souls of its victims. There are many stories about the incubus and similar creatures, from all over the world. Some describe it as a monstrous beast, and others describe it as a demon disguised as a handsome man.”

My heart starts to thud painfully in my chest. “Oh, no.”

“It has sex with them in their sleep?” cries Lebz. “Ugh,
sies
! Wait, doesn’t the thokolosi do something like that, as well?”

“That’s a little different – a thokolosi is supposed to be a witch’s servant and sexual slave,” Wiki explains. “An incubus serves only itself.”

Incubus. Incubus! I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. No, I
do
know why – for the same reason I don’t think of vampires, werewolves or fairies sitting on toadstools. This is Botswana, not the English countryside or the mountains of Transylvania. Our monsters are dark and earthbound, and often hairy. They deal in bones and flesh and the feathers of white chickens. They do not concern themselves with damsels in flimsy nightdresses.

But it fits. Freaky and unexpected as it is, it fits perfectly. Handsome predators, willing prey. Kelly’s complete devotion to Spencer, her unexplained weight loss, her absentmindedness. And it certainly explains the strange vibes I get from the Cresta Crew. They’re not gifted at all – they’re not even
human
.

A sliver of revulsion shudders through me. I’ve always known of the existence of magical creatures, but I’ve never encountered one. There’s a huge difference between a gifted human and a non-human. And the Cresta Crew look so human! I feel a burst of anger at their deception. To pretend to be human, to walk among us, sucking the life out of us…then Duma’s face flashes into my thoughts, and my mind can’t quite wrap itself around it. Duma, feeding off someone’s soul? It doesn’t seem possible.

Lebz breaks the silence, asking the question on my lips. “Wiki, are you sure?”

Wiki shrugs. “I can’t be sure – I’m not an expert. But all my research, combined with everything we’ve seen and heard about these guys, suggests that this is the most logical conclusion. Connie said that there was definitely something magical involved, right? What else could it be?”

I take a deep breath, trying to sort through my thoughts. “I don’t know enough about the incubus to say for sure, but it doesn’t look good. Maybe we have our own version of the incubus in our part of the world. Maybe it’s not quite the same as the ones we’ve heard about. Either way, I won’t know anything more until I talk to my grandfather.”

Lebz has gone pale, and that’s hard to do when your skin is the colour of milk chocolate. “But if it is true…what’s going to happen to Kelly?” She snatches the File and skims the page. “It says the victims of the incubus might end up pregnant with a demon child, or…dead. Dead!”

“No one’s dying or getting impregnated with demon spawn.” I take the File from her, close it and hand it back to Wiki. I’m back in control now, my fear gone, for the moment. “Remember, these stories may be true, or they may just be legends. We don’t deal in superstition – we deal in facts. And the only way we’re going to get the facts is by talking to someone who knows.”

I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Ntatemogolo’s number. Even before the first ring, I have the sinking feeling that he’s not available. The phone rings, and rings, and rings, and then goes to voicemail. I shake my head at my friends. “I’m seeing him on Sunday, though.”

“So we have to wait,” says Wiki.

Lebz looks stricken. “Sunday is two days away.”

Wiki and I look at each other. A lot can happen in two days.

***

I try Ntatemogolo again when I get home. This time it doesn’t even ring – just goes straight to my grandfather’s brusque voicemail recording. “
Ke
Lerumo. If it’s urgent, leave a message. If not, stop wasting your airtime.”

I leave a message, asking him to let me know when he’s free. I’m still not sure Spencer is an incubus, and I know how foolish it is to jump to conclusions when it comes to these things. I think about calling Rakwena, then remember that he’s at school. Auntie Lydia is busy with laundry, so I decide to make a simple lunch of stir-fry noodles.

By the time Auntie Lydia leaves, I’ve half convinced myself that there is no way the Cresta Crew are incubi. This is
Botswana
! There must be some other explanation, some other mythical creature we don’t know about. I remember looking into Duma’s eyes, and even though I don’t entirely trust him, I don’t think he’s a monster who would take someone’s life without a thought. I don’t think any of them are.

If only Ntatemogolo would call me back!

***

Rakwena comes over on Saturday morning. I’m in the living room, trying to distract myself with a dose of
Tom and Jerry
. I get up to let Rakwena in, and he greets me with a languid kiss. Unfortunately, my heart’s not really in it.

“What’s wrong?” He sits beside me on the sofa. “Did something happen yesterday?”

After I’ve told him all about Wiki’s theory, his expression grows grave.

“It could be worse than we thought,” I sigh. “I would never have thought of an incubus, of all things – ”

“This is ridiculous,” he snaps impatiently. “Don’t you think that someone would have known if there were incubi in Botswana? Honestly, you need to learn the difference between fact and fiction. Some of these stories are really just stories.”

For a moment I’m too stunned to respond. Why is he so upset? “How am I being ridiculous? All stories and superstitions have some basis in fact.”

He rolls his eyes. “Maybe there are incubi, but the idea that they’re terrorising Gabs is a bit far-fetched. Have you heard of any young women dying mysteriously, or getting pregnant by magic?” His tone has softened slightly, but there’s still an angry edge to it. I’m not sure what business he has being angry –
I’m
the one getting insulted!

I scowl at him. “I’m going to talk to Ntatemogolo about it – he’ll tell me whether it’s possible or not.”

“You’re going to your grandfather with this nonsense?”

“It’s not nonsense!”

He sighs and holds up his hands in surrender. “Fine! But if it’s true then it’s one more reason for you to stay away from those Cresta guys.”

“Stay away? If they
are
incubi and Kelly’s in danger, I should just back off?”

“I don’t want to fight,” he says softly, reaching for me.

“You started it!” I inch away from him. “It’s not just Kelly I’m worried about, you know. I think they might be after you, too.”

“I thought incubi were only interested in girls,” he replies in a wry tone.

“I’m serious.” I look up into his face. “Can you think of any reason they’d be interested in you?”

“I’ve never even spoken to those people,” he says, with exasperation. “How would I know what goes through their minds? Why can’t you let your grandfather handle it? He’s more experienced, he knows what to do. You’re playing with fire here!”

I’m too angry to reply. He lapses into silence. I wish I knew what he was thinking, but he’s far too sharp to let his guard down.

“Let’s go see a movie tonight,” he whispers finally. “What do you think?”

I think I want to wring his neck. I think he should tell me what the hell is really going on, why he’s so concerned about the Cresta Crew, what he knows that I don’t. But if there’s one thing I know about Rakwena Langa, it’s that once he’s made up his mind to keep quiet, there’s no changing it.

“Connie.” He takes my hand, and this time I don’t pull away. “Movie. Please?”

His energy pours into my fingers, calming my raging mood. I sigh and nod.

“Good.” He plants a kiss on my forehead and gets up. “I’ve got some errands to run –I’ll see you tonight. Please don’t do anything stupid.”

I raise my eyebrows.

He sighs. “Never mind.” He looks like he wants to say more, but doesn’t.

He leaves, taking his soothing energy with him. That boy knows something about the Cresta Crew but won’t tell me what it is. And that makes me think they must be even more dangerous than I imagined.

Chapter Six

I’m young again, about four. I’m sitting on the floor of my bedroom with my mother. She’s wearing one of her pretty dresses and her feet are bare. Her toenails are painted bright pink to match her fingernails. She’s beautiful. My heart twists as I look at her. Is she going to stay this time? Maybe if I’m very good she won’t have to go away.

“What are we doing, Mama?”

“Playing a game.” Her eyes sparkle. “You like games, Connie?”

I nod, excited. “What kind of game?”

“I’m going to teach you something, and you have to pay very close attention.” She lies on her stomach with her knees bent and her feet in the air. “After I show you, you’ll have to do it on your own. You have to do it exactly the way I tell you to, exactly right. Does that sound fun?”

I nod. “Can we start now?”

“In a minute.” She gets to her feet and goes to shut the door. “First we have to make sure he doesn’t come in.”

I laugh. She means Dad, of course. I’m giddy with glee. A secret game for the girls, no Daddies allowed. What fun!

She locks the door and comes back to me, and with each step she takes I grow a little older. By the time she’s sitting beside me I’m a teenager again.

“Can we start now?”

“Soon,” she promises. She glances at the door and holds a finger to her lips. Her nails are a shimmery apricot shade now. She leans in.

Sudden panic grips me. The room grows dark. “Mama! What’s happening?”

“Ssh!” She grabs my hand. “We must be very quiet. He’s watching.” This time I know she’s not talking about Dad. She’s talking about the Puppetmaster. “Very quiet, very careful,” she tells me urgently. “We mustn’t let him see!”

I sit up in bed with a strangled cry. My heart is pounding. It’s been twelve years since my mother died. I’ve dreamt of her countless times, but this was different. I rub my shoulder and stare into the dark, breathing deeply, waiting for the anxiety to subside. The Puppetmaster. He’s always there, refusing to let me move on. My thoughts return to the dream.
He’s watching. We must be very quiet.
What does that mean? Why am I dreaming of my mother and the Puppetmaster?

I try to make sense of it, but answers elude me. Finally I doze off again and the dream slips away.

***

Morning can’t come fast enough. I’m up and ready before dawn. Dad’s passed out on the sofa when I come in. I make a huge omelette and leave him half, then scribble a quick note and head out. He doesn’t even move when I open the front door.

It’s a crisp September morning, with the last traces of the August wind still in the air, but summer is here. If we’re lucky the rains will start soon, but for now the sky is clear and bright. There’s almost no one out yet – it’s barely seven – and I have to walk a bit before I see a combi moving lazily down the road and flag it down. There’s only one other passenger.