“He couldn’t do it because you were writhing in pain?” I asked.

“Ani protects me,” Binta insisted, tears falling down her cheeks.

We were all silent.

“He-he understands now,” Binta said. “He won’t touch me anymore.”

“I don’t care,” Luyu said. “He should be castrated like the other rapists.”

“Shhh, don’t say that,” Binta whispered.

“I will say and do what I want!” Luyu shouted.

“No, you won’t,” I said, putting my arm around Binta. I chose my words carefully. “I think juju was worked on us at our Eleventh Rite. It’s… probably broken with marriage.” I looked hard at Luyu. “I think if you force intercourse, you’ll die.”

“It is broken with marriage,” Diti said nodding. “My cousin always talks about how only a pure woman attracts a man pure enough to bring pleasure to the marriage bed. She says her husband is the purest man around… probably because he was the first who didn’t bring her pain.”

“Ugh,” Luyu said, angrily. “We’re tricked into thinking our husbands are gods.”

On my way home, I ran into Mwita. He was reading at the iroko tree. I sat beside him and sighed loudly. He shut his book.

“Did you know that the Ada and Aro once loved each other?” he asked.

I raised my eyebrows. “What happened?”

Mwita leaned back. “When he first came here years ago, the Osugbo Society immediately called him to a meeting. The Seer must have seen that Aro was a sorcerer. Not long after, he was invited to work with Osugbo Elders. After he peacefully dealt with a disagreement between two of Jwahir’s biggest traders, they asked him to become a full member. He’s Jwahir’s first not so elderly elder. Aro didn’t look a day over forty. No one minded because Jwahir benefited from him. Do you know the House of Osugbo?”

I nodded.

“It was built with juju,” Mwita said. “It was here before Jwahir was. Anyway, it has a way of making things… happen. One day, Nana the Wise asked Yere-that was the Ada ’s name when she was a young woman-to meet her there. Aro also happened to be there that day. They both took a wrong turn and came face-to-face. From the moment they met, they didn’t like each other.

“Love is often mistaken for hate. But sometimes, people learn their mistake, as these two quickly did. Nana the Wise had set her eye on Yere as the next Ada. So Yere was asked often to come to the house for one reason or another. Aro spent almost all his time there. The House of Osugbo kept bringing them together, you see.

“Aro would ask, and then Yere would accept. He would speak, she would listen. She would wait and then he would come to her. They felt that they understood how things should always be. Yere was eventually appointed the Ada when the previous Ada passed away. Aro had established himself as the Worker. They complemented each other perfectly.”

Mwita paused. “It was Aro who came up with the idea to put juju on the scalpel but it was the Ada who accepted. They felt they were doing something good for the girls.”

I laughed bitterly and shook my head. “Does Nana the Wise know?”

“She knows. To her, it makes sense, too. She’s old.”

“Why didn’t Aro and the Ada marry?”

Mwita smiled. “Did I say that they didn’t?”

CHAPTER 12 – A Vulture’s Arrogance

THE SUN HAD JUST RISEN. I was perched in the tree, hunched forward.

I’d woken up fifteen minutes ago to see it before my bed. Staring at me. An insubstantial red sheet with an oval of white steam in the center. The eye hissed with anger and disappeared.

And that was when I spotted the shiny brown and black scorpion crawling up my bedclothes. The kind whose sting could kill. It would have reached my face in a matter of seconds had I not woken. I whipped up my covers, sending it flying. It landed with an almost metallic plick! I grabbed the nearest book and crushed the thing with it. I stamped on the book, over and over, until I stopped shaking. I was fuming as I threw off my clothes and flew out the window.

The vulture’s natural angry look matched how I felt. From the tree, I watched the two boys walk through the cactus gate. I flew back to my bedroom and shifted back to myself. To remain a vulture for too long always left me feeling detached from what I could only define as being a human. As a vulture, I felt condescending when I looked at Jwahir, as if I knew greater places. All I wanted to do was ride the wind, search out carrion, and not return home. There is always a price for changing.

I’d changed into a few other creatures as well. I’d tried to catch a small lizard. I got its tail instead. I used this to change into one. This was surprisingly almost as easy as changing into a bird. I later read in an old book that reptiles and birds were closely related. There had even been a bird with scales millions of years ago. Still when I changed back, for days I found it extremely difficult to stay warm at night.

Using the wings of a fly, I changed into one. The process was awful-I felt as if I were imploding. And because my body changed so drastically, I couldn’t feel nauseated. Imagine wanting to feel sick and not being able to. As a fly I was food-minded, fast, watchful. I had none of the complex emotions I had as a vulture. Most disturbing about being a fly was the sense of my mortality ending in a matter of days. To a fly, those days must have felt like a lifetime. To me, a human who’d changed into a fly, I was very aware of both the slowness and swiftness of time. When I changed back, I was relieved that I still looked and felt my age.

When I’d changed into a mouse my dominant emotion was fear. Fear of being crushed, eaten, found, starving. When I changed back, the residual paranoia was so strong that I couldn’t leave my room for hours.

This day, I’d been a vulture for over half an hour and that sense of power was still with me when I returned to Aro’s hut as myself. I knew those two boys. Stupid, annoying, privileged, boys. As a vulture, I’d heard one of them say that he’d rather be in bed sleeping the morning away. The other had laughed, agreeing. I gnashed my teeth as I walked up to the cactus gate for the second time in my life. As I passed, again one of the cactuses scratched me. Show your worst, I thought. I kept walking.

When I stepped around Aro’s hut, there he was sitting on the ground in front of the two boys. Behind them, the desert spread out, wide and lovely. Tears of frustration wet my eyes. I needed what Aro could teach me. As my tears fell, Aro looked up me. I could have slapped myself. He didn’t need to see my weakness. The two boys turned around and the blank, dumb, idiotic looks on their faces made me even angrier. Aro and I stared at each other. I wanted to pounce on him, tear at his throat, and gnash at his spirit.

“Get out of here,” he said in a calm low voice.

The finality of his tone dashed away any hope I had. I turned and ran. I fled. But not from Jwahir. Not yet.