Crowned. Cheryl S. Ntumy

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      “You sure you don’t want a ride?” He takes my place at the computer.

      “I can walk.”

      “You’re meeting Malebogo and Elijah?”

      I refrain from rolling my eyes. I don’t know why Dad can’t just call them Lebz and Wiki. “Yep.”

      “Anyone else coming?” His expression is a tad too innocent. He’s looking at the computer, tapping away at the keyboard, but I know where his thoughts lie.

      I pull the strap of my bag over my shoulder with a sigh. “No one else, Dad. No gifted, no sorcerers, no drifters. Just Wiki and Lebz, who are absolutely not gifted.”

      “You’re sure?” Tap-tap-tap-tap. Blink. Tap-tap-tap. Who does he think that nonchalant act is fooling?

      “I’ve known Lebz and Wiki since we were born; you’ve been friends with their parents for twenty years! Don’t you think I’d know if they were gifted?”

      He stops pretending to work and turns to me. “What about Elijah?”

      I grin. “Wiki’s gifted, but not in the way you’re thinking.”

      He nods, finally satisfied. “I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

      “From what?”

      “Who knows? Werewolves, or whatever.”

      “Werewolves, Dad? This isn’t a movie.”

      He glances at me. “No werewolves?”

      I give him a look. “Either you can shape shift at will or you can’t.”

      He raises a sceptical eyebrow. I’ve told him before that my world isn’t all that different from his, but I think this is the first time he’s actually paying attention.

      I fish my phone out of my pocket to check the time. “Oops. I’m going to be late.”

      “Go on, then. Will you see your grandfather later? He says you’re training again.”

      I turn at the door. “I’m seeing him tomorrow.”

      I’m relieved Dad and Ntatemogolo have stopped using me as a messenger now that they can talk on the phone without hurling insults. Last year, when they started working on a big project for the Salinger Biological Institute, I was sure they’d put aside their differences. It didn’t quite work out that way, since the Ntatemogolo who agreed to work on the project was actually the Puppetmaster. He disappeared without submitting a single thing, leaving Dad in the lurch. But all that’s sorted out, and now the two of them have a new project to bring them closer – protecting me.

      “That’s good,” he replies earnestly. “You need to be able to protect yourself.”

      Poor Dad. I wish he’d stop worrying. “I need to go before my friends kill me.”

      “Right.” He takes out his wallet and shoves a P20 note at me.

      I thank him and sprint out of the building.

      * * *

      Lebz and Wiki are waiting in a corner of a restaurant when I reach the mall. I slide into the seat opposite them.

      “Sorry I’m late.” I snatch up Wiki’s menu. “I’m dying for a milkshake.”

      Lebz snatches it back. “First things first. What happened with the Puppetmaster?”

      I roll my eyes in mock boredom. “Oh, that.”

      “Don’t joke,” Wiki chides me, frowning. “We’ve been worried. You haven’t said anything besides that SMS describing the meeting as ‘cryptic’.”

      “It was cryptic. I feel as though I understand him a little better now, which was probably the point, but it was nothing like I expected.”

      “Now you’re being cryptic,” Wiki protests.

      “Details!” Lebz hisses. “We’re not ordering until you give us a full report.”

      My stomach growls on cue, so I launch into a detailed account of the meeting.

      “He’s nearly two hundred years old,” whispers Lebz with a shudder, when my report is done. “That’s just wrong.”

      “There are still a lot of questions,” says Wiki. “What is he after?”

      “And did he mean it when he said he’d take action against anyone who hurt you?” Lebz looks uncomfortable at the idea.

      I shrug. “I think he meant it. Emily said the same thing. But it’s not like he really cares – it’s just that I’m useful to him. It’s like the way you’d protect your phone. Speaking of phones, have you guys heard the news? Flights being delayed, signals disturbed and stuff? It’s happening in other places.”

      “Isn’t it meteorological?” asks Lebz. “Weird weather patterns, climate change?”

      I give her a sceptical look and turn to Wiki. “Any theories?”

      “Military,” he says. “You think it might be freaky weird, don’t you?”

      Freaky weird means supernatural weird, the kind of weird that is my specialty. I nod and share my theory that the disturbances are linked to my growing gift and the changes other gifted are experiencing. “But I have nothing concrete to go on.”

      “I can look into it, if you like.” As always Wiki seems thrilled at the prospect of extra-curricular research.

      “You’re a superstar,” I tell him, and then pick up his menu again.

      We place our orders. I tell them about Thuli’s new job, they’re horrified and sympathetic, and we move on to more frivolous topics. Inevitably, the conversation winds back to the Puppetmaster.

      “Be careful,” says Wiki, sipping his soft drink. “I don’t like these meetings. I think he’s using them to manipulate you.”

      “Hey, ye of little faith,” I protest indignantly. “Why do you think I can be manipulated? I’m trying to stop his evil plan.”

      “The plan we haven’t figured out yet.”

      “Well, it’s obvious he’s involved in Marshall’s disappearance.”

      Lebz glances over her shoulder and leans closer. “What would he want from Marshall?”

      I lower my voice. “Ntatemogolo says Marshall’s gifted.”

      They exchange surprised glances.

      “Remember that dream I told you about? The second one. I think that’s what it’s about. Gifted people are in danger because the Puppetmaster’s kidnapping them. Only one so far, but still.”

      Wiki shakes his СКАЧАТЬ