Who Fears Death. Ннеди Окорафор

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      “I know,” the hurt boy said. “I can barely walk.”

      “I tell you, the man is evil, not a true sorcerer.”

      “Oh, Aro’s a true sorcerer,” the hurt boy said. “Evil, but true.”

      My ears pricked at the name briefly mentioned the night of my Eleventh Rite.

      “That Ewu boy’s the only one good enough to learn the Great Mystic Points, apparently,” the hurt boy said, his eyes wide and wet. “Makes no sense. One’s blood is supposed to be clean to …”

      I got up and walked away, my thoughts clouded with rage. I angrily searched the market, the book house, I even went to my house. No Mwita. I didn’t know where he lived. This angered me even more. As I left my house, I saw him coming up the road. I strode up to him and had to restrain myself from punching him in the face.

      “Why didn’t you tell me?” I shouted.

      “Don’t come at me like that,” he grumbled when I got to him. “You know better.”

      I laughed bitterly. “I don’t know anything about you.”

      “I mean it, Onyesonwu,” he warned.

      “I don’t care what you mean,” I shouted.

      “What possesses you, woman?”

      “What do you know about the Great Mystic Points? Eh?” I had no idea what these Mystic Points were but they were being held from me and I wanted to know them now. “And … and what of Aro? Why didn’t …” I was so angry that I started choking on air. I stood there panting. “You’ve …you’re a liar!” I screeched. “How can I ever trust you?”

      Mwita stepped back at this. I’d crossed a line. I kept shouting. “I had to overhear it from two boys! Two stupid inept common boys! I can’t trust you ever again!”

      “He won’t teach you,” Mwita bitterly said holding his arms out wide.

      “What?” I said, my voice cracking. “Why?”

      “You want to know? Fine, I’ll tell you. I hope it makes you happy. He won’t teach you because you’re a girl, a woman!” He shouted at me. There were tears of rage in his eyes. He slapped his hand against my belly. “Because of what you carry here! You can bring life, and when you get old, that ability becomes something else even greater, more dangerous and unstable!”

      “What?” I said again.

      He laughed angrily and began walking away. “You push too hard,” he said. “Ugh, you’re not healthy for me.”

      “Don’t walk away from me,” I said.

      He stopped. “Or you’ll what?” He turned around. “Are you threatening me?”

      “Maybe,” I said. We stood like that. I don’t remember if there were people around us. There must have been. People love a good argument. And one between two Ewu teenagers, one a boy and one a girl, was priceless.

      “Onyesonwu,” he said. “He won’t teach you. You were born in the wrong body.”

      “Yeah, well I can change that,” I said.

      “No, you can’t ever change that.”

      No matter what I changed into, I could only become the female version of it. This was a rule of my ability that always seemed trivial to me. “He teaches you,” I said.

      He nodded. “And I’ve been teaching you what I know.”

      I cocked my head. “But … he doesn’t teach you these … these Points, does he?”

      Mwita didn’t respond.

      “Because you’re Ewu, right?” I asked.

      He still said nothing.

      “Mwita …”

      “What I teach you will have to be enough,” he said.

      “And if it’s not?”

      Mwita looked away.

      I shook my head. “To omit information is lying.”

      “If I lie to you, it’s only to protect you. You’re my … You’re special to me, Onyesonwu,” he blurted, wiping some of his angry tears from his cheek. “Nobody, nobody, should be allowed to hurt you.”

      “Something’s been trying to do just that!” I said. “That … that horrible red and white eye thing! It’s evil! … I think it watches me in my sleep sometimes …”

      “I have asked him,” he said. “Okay? I asked him. I look at you and I know … I know. I told him about you. I told him after you ended up in that tree. I asked him again after you realized you were Eshu. He won’t teach you.”

      “Did you tell him about the red eye?”

      “Yes.”

      Silence.

      “Then I’ll ask him myself,” I said flatly.

      “Don’t,” he said.

      “Let him reject me to my face,” I said.

      Anger flashed in Mwita’s eyes and he stepped back from me. “I shouldn’t love a girl like you,” he said quietly through gritted teeth. Then he turned and walked away.

      I waited until Mwita was far enough away. Then I stepped to the side of the road and concentrated. I didn’t have the feather with me, so I had to calm myself first. The argument with Mwita left me shaking with emotion so it took several minutes to calm myself. By this time, Mwita was gone. But as I said, as a vulture, the world was open to me. I found him easily.

      I followed him south from my house, through the palm tree farms at Jwahir’s southern border. The hut he came to was sturdy but simple. Four goats roamed around it. Mwita went into a smaller hut beside the main one. Behind both huts opened the desert.

      The next day, I walked there on foot, leaving my bedroom window open in case I returned as a vulture. A gate of cacti grew in front of Aro’s hut. I boldly walked through the opening that was flanked by two tall cacti. I tried to avoid the thorns but one of them nicked my arm as I passed. No matter, I thought.

      The main hut was large, made of stacked sand brick and adobe with a thatched roof. I could see Mwita nearby sitting against the only tree bold enough to grow near the hut. I smiled slyly to myself. If this was Aro’s hut, I could sneak in before Mwita saw me.

      A man strolled out before I could get halfway to the hut entrance. The first thing I noticed was the blue mist surrounding him. It disappeared as he came closer. He was about two decades older than my father. His head was closely shaved. His dark skin glistened in the dry СКАЧАТЬ