Mosode’s dark gaze measured him. “While we were doing so, one of the white-haired women came.”
When the tall man didn’t respond, he continued. “She asked about what had happened to Ngubi. And then, she wanted to be taken to the spot where he died. Wouldn’t wait for daylight, got agitated, and her hair—the crystals in it glowed. Some whispered she was a spirit, and were afraid. So when she insisted, we took her.”
Nikolai swallowed as the hunter paused, shifting positions against his boulder. The white-haired women had always come when he’d healed others. That used a fraction of the energy he’d tapped into when he’d killed the poachers. He wasn’t surprised that they’d come looking for him now.
Maybe it was time he let them catch him.
Oblivious to Nikolai’s immersion in his dark thoughts, Mosode continued. “The scavengers had disposed of the poachers, there were only bits left. But she held her hands over the remains, and I swear they glowed. Then she looked at the trees and the dead animals. She asked whether they’d been like that before the poachers had been killed.”
“What did you tell her?” Nikolai’s voice didn’t sound normal, even to himself.
“I didn’t answer. But my wife’s cousin told her that no, everything died with the poachers.”
Mosode’s wife’s cousin hadn’t been there, of course. But the Khomani hunters knew the state of every tree and rock in this area. “Where is she now?” Nikolai asked.
Mosode straightened. “We camped just outside the dead zone last night. In the morning she had us wait there. By midmorning, another had arrived. A little taller, but she looked just the same.” He met Nikolai’s gaze. “They are camped about two hours from here. My wife’s cousin is a good tracker; he will find you in the morning.”
Nikolai nodded. “I thank you for the warning, Mosode.”
Mosode balanced his spear in his hand. “There is more.”
Nikolai waited as the hunter gazed up into the sky, before continuing. “Ketelelo is dead.”
Nikolai’s brows rose. Ketelelo was a distant nephew to Ngubi. Despite the dangers inherent in their hunting and gathering lifestyle, Khomani rarely ran afoul of it. “What happened?”
Mosode shrugged, but Nikolai sensed his discomfort. “Silikat was hunting with him. They wanted to see where—well, they walked to the dead zone. Hung with our group for a while, until the second woman showed up. Then they found springbok tracks not too far along. They split up to flank them, and Ketelelo came across a man.”
Nikolai wasn’t sure what this had to do with him, other than the fact they’d visited the spot he’d decimated. But Mosode seemed uneasy.
“Another hunter? A park ranger?” he asked.
“Silikat wasn’t sure. He heard Ketelelo scream, and came running, thinking he’d stumbled across a leopard. He found his friend lying face up, his eyes open. Not a mark on him, but he smelled odd—like he’d been scorched. There were boot tracks, much larger than a Khomani’s.” Mosode paused, shifting his feet. “Silikat followed them. They led to a spot in the bush, and then just—vanished. As though whoever they belonged to had sprouted wings and flown away.”
Nikolai’s gut twisted in a knot.
Mosode shook his head. “The two women with us took us straight to Ketelelo. Not tracking—they just knew where he was. They seemed agitated. Silikat returned and took them to where the tracks vanished. Which upset them even more.”
Vanishing tracks? A hunter, mysteriously killed? And it all revolved around the spot where Nikolai had killed the poachers. The knot in his gut tightened.
Mosode met his eyes in the darkness. “You have unleashed something upon us, Nikolai. How did you kill those poachers? Was it magic, like you use when you heal?”
Nikolai swallowed. “I don’t know. I was just so angry.”
Mosode hesitated before offering. “I wish you well, Nikolai.”
“You too, Mosode.”
The Khomani vanished back into the scrub. Mai moved closer to Nikolai and chittered at him. When he lowered his hand to her, she examined it, her long nose quivering.
“I promise,” Nikolai stated solemnly, “that I will never hurt you again.”
She tilted her little head to meet his gaze with her bright-blue eyes. Her ears twitched. Then she hopped onto his hand. He raised her to his shoulder as he stood.
He was responsible for these people invading the Khomani’s lives. He had no idea what had happened to Ketelelo, but his gut told him he had another death on his conscience.
The only thing he could do was to lead the trouble away.
He pointed his feet deeper into the desert, and started walking.
