Page 41 of Wrath of the Oracle

“I don’t know what…” Sholei’s hands tightened on the flowers in her hand.

“Prince Gane is still alive. Is he the reason you keep dreaming of going back to Mukuru?” His voice was low, and Sholei couldn’t explain the anger she noticed in his statement. “Gane is a good military strategist but has overestimated himself.” Ojore stepped closer to her andlowered his tone. “He won’t survive in the long run. He doesn’t have the capability of leading such an army.”

“The war isn’t over; you can’t predict the outcome,” Sholei defended Gane.

“He won’t be coming for you,” Ojore spoke through gritted teeth. “After I take over Mukuru, the male royals inside the capital won’t survive.”

“You can’t do this… its wrong…” Ojore talked about death so casually Sholei couldn’t comprehend how he could be so…ruthless.

”This is war, Sholei.” Ojore took another step toward her, and Sholei shuffled back, scared of the dark glint in his eyes. “Gane is my enemy. Themoreyou defend him, themoreI want him dead.”

“Stop.” Sholei clutched the bunch in her hands, ready to use it as a weapon. No one was around the quiet street, and the music from the wedding party streamed from afar.

“Are you scared?” Ojore leaned in, and Sholei held the flowers close to her chest. The thorny branches dug into her palms and blood coated her hand.

“Should I be?” Her breath came out short. She was scared, but something else crawled up her spine and licked her skin. Ojore didn’t touch her, yet she burned when he lowered his eyes and focused on her lips.

“I hate the sound of another man’s name on your lips.” He traced his thumb across her parted lips, his eyes glowed in the low light. His scent engulfed her, and Sholei’s hand itched to touch him, to pull him closer.

Asaa, the snarling voice cackled in her head and sharp pain hit her. She collapsed in Ojore’s arms, her head reared back as she screeched.

“Sholei, are you okay?” Ojore’s voice held a note of panic as he held her. Through the haze in her head, she looked up and came face to face with a statue of Lord Keita and Asaa.

She had been so focused on Ojore that she hadn’t notice the tall, grand sculpture that graced the street. Unlike the statue back in Mukuru capital, where Asaa was interlocked in Lord Keita’s claws, the one before her depicted Asaa’s long, sleek body circling the great eagle. As if suspended in time, Lord Keita’s sharp beak was open and raised to the dark sky, in a silent shriek. Asaa’s long glistening fangs sank deep into his thick, dark-feathered neck, its poignant eyes on her.

“Look at me.” Ojore shook her shoulders, and Sholei dragged her eyes from Asaa’s eyes to Ojore’s concerned gaze.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle. The pain disappeared and Sholei blinked, her eyes wide. What happened? She touched her headscarf. Why did she experience pain while her scarf was on?

“You’re freezing.” Ojore’s eyes roamed her face as he palmed her cheeks and forced her to look up at him. The warmth of his fingers sank into her cool skin. Whenever the headache came, her skin turned ice cold.

“I’m fine,” she assured him.

“You screamed loud enough to wake the dead.” Ojore ran his hands up and down her shoulders to generate heat. “Is the statue connected to your nightmares?” He paused after the question. “Back in Mukuru, you fainted in the street underneath Lord Keita’s statue.”

“My nightmares?” Just how much did she reveal to him?

“You mentioned only monsters attack your dreams.” Ojore’s jaw ticked as he helped her up, and Sholei let go of the thorny bunch. The flowers fell at the feet of the towering statue. Her red blood coated the soft petals.

“Every time I come across a statue of Lord Keita and Asaa, my head hurts,” she said.

“Do you know the connection between the headache and your dreams?” Ojore pressed on. His intense gaze made Sholei uncomfortable. The only person who knew of her curse was Musembi, and they didn’t talk about it. Telling Ojore about it was out of the question. First, he’d seen her tattoos, and now he knew about her nightmares. What next?

“There’s no connection.” Sholei pushed away from him and started back to the party hall. She wasn’t about to spill everything, certainly not to Ojore.

“Sholei, wait.” With long strides, Ojore cut in front of her. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t force you, but you can’t avoid the truth. You must face it someday.”

“Lord Keita is the god of the Northern Skies, and I feel like he has something against me.” Sholei pointed at the tall statue, now shrouded in semi-darkness, which enhanced its menacing look.

“Lord Keita is a guardian to the people. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.” Ojore followed the direction of her finger. His eyes glazed over for a second when he mentioned the name of the god of the Northern Skies.

“Why would he be locked in battle with me?” The question caught her off guard, as if something spoke through her.

“Why would you think you’re Asaa?” Ojore’s eyes narrowed, and Sholei could only gape at him, mouth open.

“I hopeI get to see you in Dembe. There is so much we must do once you get there.” Princess Ngele hugged Sholei, her new-found friend. Sholei was sad to let go; their encounter was brief but memorable.

“I wish you a happy marriage. We shall meet if it’s the will of the gods,” Sholei said.

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