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Fisi’s eyes narrowed to suspicious golden slits, making Ethan wonder if the youth knew more about dragons than he was letting on, but he didn’t say anything.
 

Salih frowned. “We cannot go back the way we came,” he said firmly. “We need to meet up with Gogo Maya in the forest above.”
 

Nuru did not seem so interested in the objections of Fisi or Salih. He folded his arms across his chest and fixed the three boys with a tentative grin. “You could all stay here for a while and soak in the magic till its power gives you the ability to travel underwater to the forest,” he said. “That is the shortest and safest route.”
 

“How long would we be underwater for?” Tariro pushed a dreadlock out of his eyes, and exchanged nervous looks with Fisi, who was shaking his head.

“How long would we have to soak in the magic?” Ethan said at the same time.

Nuru looked from Tariro to Ethan with a puzzled frown. “I am not sure how you measure time, but it has taken the Sobek thousands of flood seasons to do all that we do with the magic. A small skill such as holding your breath would take about two moon cycles to perfect. Less time if you work hard at the learning.” Then he turned towards Tariro and Fisi and tut-tutted at them with an indulgent grin. “You have to hold your breath many times longer than you did in the passage that leads from Mokele Mbembe to our lake.”

Ethan’s spirits sank. He had thought the man meant days, not months. He’d had enough of magic anyway. “Forget it!” he said, remembering the gash above his cousin’s eye. “Joe could be lying in the forest bleeding to death as we speak. We need to get there as soon as possible.”

“A great pity,” Nuru shrugged. “We were looking forward to spending time with you. Not this one, of course.” He swept a dismissive arm at Fisi, who didn’t appear to care. “We already know all about him, and his people, but this one,” he put a hand on Tariro’s shoulder, “he has a fascinating history to read.”

Tariro pulled back, startled. “No way! I’m not sticking around here letting you guys read stuff out of my head.”

The Sobek laughed, then he looked at Jimoh kindly. “This boy can tell us all about the Crystal Pools. We have been following the life stories of the folk who live there. Amun and Darwishi can tell us all about whether the beautiful one from the town has kissed the young man, Tendayi, yet and whether the old man, Ephraim, recovered from his illness, but they cannot tell what has happened to those who do not use the pool. We would like to know what happened to the young lady who moved to the city for education and the man who was bitten by the viper. We worry.”

Ethan almost laughed out loud when that strange, warm emotion he had felt when Kashka first clapped eyes on Jimoh became clear. These people were fans of Jimoh. Fans! It was almost as if the Crystal Pools was a reality show for the Sobek, starring Jimoh, and the hunters, and every other kid who thought while he swam there.

“And you, boy.” Ethan flushed when the man’s attention fell upon him. He urgently retraced his own thoughts since he had arrived at Crystal Pools, and more disturbingly, thoughts he had had since arriving in the caves, but Nuru seemed not to come up with anything compromising. At least anything he was willing to share. “I think you have been many places you could tell us about. Darwishi says you have been thinking about caves even larger than our own.”

“Son Doong,” Ethan nodded, relieved that he was not going to have to explain about gems... and blood.

“Ethan has never been to Son Doong caves,” Tariro protested. “He’s seen them on the internet.”
 

Way to go, Tariro
, Ethan thought. As much as Tariro objected to having his own thoughts invaded, he obviously still wanted them to be more interesting than Ethan’s. Still, it was very worrying having the Sobek tap into any of their thoughts like that. As friendly as they were, he was not sure he could trust them.

“You can,” Salih projected into Ethan’s head. He nudged his face against Ethan’s palm, shifting his body under Ethan’s hand until he gave in and stroked the leopard.

Looking towards the water with the magic floating on top, Ethan realised that the urge to clean his hand after touching the leopard was not as strong as his reluctance to touch the water, but eventually washing his hands won out.
 

“Do you mind if I touch the water?” he asked Kashka.

“The magic is for everyone. You may have as much as you want, but it will bend itself to your will, so be careful what you wish for.”

Once he had washed his hands, Ethan would have liked to find out more about the magic, but Salih brought the meeting back to order.
 

“Nuru, as much as we would love to stay and exchange information, there is some urgency in our quest to rescue the boys’ friend,” he said. “They are very fond of him, and he may be in grave danger.”
 

“Then the only path you can take is north-east,” Nuru said. “The river will take you to the waterfall in the cliffs, but there is no access to the forest from there. You will have to journey all the way down into the valley and follow the cliffs till you find a suitable path back up the escarpment.” Nuru’s sparkling green eyes flashed a warning as he pointed the way on his map in the sand. “That road is long and treacherous. If you survive the climb down into the valley, you will have to sneak past the Adze who live in the swamps below. Even though the magic is destabilised and lost to the wind when it tumbles down the waterfall, the evil little Adze come out at night and fly up to replenish themselves.”
 

“What is Adze?”
 
Jimoh said.

“They are tiny little fireflies.” Fisi curled his lip back in disgust. “They can steal your soul.”
 

“Gogo Maya calls them vampires,” Salih told Ethan, who thought of explaining to Jimoh, but guessed the boy hadn’t heard of vampires anyway, so there was no point in confusing him.

“Are they any smaller than a mosquito? Because we have mosquito nets,” he said to Nuru instead.

“Yes, that will do,” Nuru said, after Ethan explained the principle of a mosquito net. “They are only active at night. But even if you pass the Adze, you will have to go through the bush before you can find a way up into the magic forest. There are lions living there, and hyenas,” he added with a meaningful look at Fisi.

Jimoh fingered his slingshot nervously, his eyes darting from Fisi, to Tariro, to Ethan. “We can do this thing! We have to go this way. Is only way to find Joe,” he said.

After a night spent cradled in the upper branches of a baobab tree, Joe awoke stiff, his legs ablaze with pain from running, and his arms almost too sore to reach out and pluck a fruit growing less than a metre from where he lay. Ears straining for any sound of hyenas, he craned his head over the treetops, and followed the path he had taken the night before, to see if Mesande had followed him. Chuki had said “pack”. Did the people of the forest roam in packs like gangs in movies? If he found other people living in the forest, would they attack him or help him?

Even from his position, elevated above the treetops, Joe had to move a few branches to get a clear view of his surroundings. The forest fell away abruptly, not far east of Mesande’s village, into a deep rift valley. Dense acacia woodland filled the valley floor, with a river meandering through the middle, which flowed into a large lake. And on the far side of the lake there were definite signs of a settlement. Although it looked many days hike away, he wondered why his rescuers had directed him south-west, towards the mountains, instead of east towards the settlement. Had they really meant witches? Anything was possible. The tiger had mentioned witches, and the villagers had been prepared to believe that he was a demon, but surely that was just ignorance?
 

In the end, as tempted as he was to strike out towards the lake settlement, that way lay past Mesande’s village. Joe rubbed a knot of tension in his neck. He did not want to risk going anywhere near Mesande’s village.

His stomach rumbled. Almost groaning with fatigue and stiffness, he stretched out a hand to pluck a fruit and bashed it against the trunk of the baobab tree, the shock of the impact rippling painfully up his arm. Despite its velvety coating, the gourd-like casing was too hard to crack against the bark of the tree. Instead, he had to ease his way to the forest floor, where he managed to crack it open against a rock. Sticky powder-covered seeds spilled out onto the ground.

After sucking the tangy flesh off the seeds he lined them up on a rock and carefully broke them open with a stone to get at the soft nutty-tasting core, which he felt must be nutritious. His mother always cracked open the pips of plums and apricots to get at the goodness hidden in them. He washed them down with a swig of water from the water-skin Chuki’s friends had given him the night before, and picked up two fallen fruits for later. He absentmindedly patted down his sides where his pockets should be, before he remembered that the pelt-like garment that they’d given him hadn’t any. He balked at the pelt that looked just like Mesande’s unkempt hair. Although the same thing hadn’t looked so bad on Chuki, he felt like a savage. Was it less than a week ago that he had been wearing a smart school uniform, laughing and joking with his friends? How had everything gone so wrong?

He rubbed the backs of his hands roughly over his eyes, trying not to dwell on the idea that he had lost everyone he had ever known. He set his jaw and forced himself to concentrate on the task ahead, pretending he was not afraid. It was time to get busy again, distract himself, make a plan to get to safety and back home. “Towards the mountains it is then,” he grumbled, and gripping the stalks of two baobab fruits in one hand and a hand-full of pebbles in the other, Joe strode purposefully into the forest.

The tiger came upon him when he was trying to cross a small stream.

“Oh! Look who it is! Gone all wild and native.” Hajiri coiled his body tight, and then sprang across the gully. He rubbed up against Joe, almost knocking him sideways into the water. Joe dropped his pebbles, hesitantly lifting his hand to stroke the cat. Hajiri’s purr rose to a loud friendly throb. Despite his trepidation at befriending the strange tiger, Joe was quite relieved to see him. Hopefully he would take care of Mesande if she caught up with them.
 

“It’s a good thing I found you,” Hajiri said. “The forest is full of angry hyenas this morning. They don’t usually hunt in the magic forest because, well, it’s magic, but something’s got them in a lather today.”

Joe tensed. “They’re looking for me,” he admitted in a shaky voice. He rubbed his sweating palm down Hajiri’s back.

“Don’t look so worried. You can come with me,” Hajiri said. Then he eyed Joe suspiciously. “Why were you going this way?”

“I was looking for the witches,” Joe said, a little embarrassed at his gullibility, even as he said it.

“Don’t be silly!” the tiger said, shocked, “What on earth would you want with witches? Evil creatures.” Then he calmed down, touching the cut above Joe’s brow with claws carefully sheathed. “But look at you. You are injured. No wonder you are not thinking straight. There is a well nearby, where we can see to those cuts. Do you think you would be able to hang on if I carry you on my back?”

~~~

It wasn’t that hard to stay on after a while. The tiger’s gigantic leaps were remarkably smooth and controlled. As the tiger came down to land, Joe’s body would become slightly airborne, but the tiger’s next forward leap caught up with him, propelling them forward smoothly. Hajiri hardly seemed to notice the extra weight. Not that surprising, thought Joe, since the tiger looked roughly the weight of a small horse. It would have been an exhilarating ride if it weren’t so terrifying.

Hajiri took Joe to a miniature village, nestled deep within the forest. Lala Salama, he called it with a sly smile. Joe thought it meant sleep in Swahili.

Tiny double-storey huts, thatched from floor to rooftop, with a little chimney funnel sticking out of a tuft at the top, looked like giant half-coconuts scattered haphazardly into a clearing, surrounding a central well. Each hut had a wedge cut out of the side, with a front door cut into the downstairs section and a balcony jutting out of the second floor.
 

As unusual as the vegetation in the forest had been, the territory surrounding Lala Salama village was incredible. Joe recognised some of the tropical fruit trees, but all had taken on bizarre properties. The usually small muroro bush, with its sugar apples, towered over the clearing whilst rows of usually huge marula trees grew in a bonsai crop, to one side of the village. Avocado pears the size of rugby balls hung pendulously from below the branches of a large tree, threatening to damage huts or knock someone out if they fell.
 

An ancient-looking Tokoloshe crone rocked back and forth on her chair on a balcony. “What do you want!” she grouched before being whisked inside with a hand clapped over her mouth.

“Just ignore them,” Hajiri said. “They become so annoying if you encourage them. Now see if you can work out how this well contraption works and get us some water.”

“Where are the rest of them?” Joe said, chewing on the inside of his lip. He didn’t want to set the tiger off, but he hoped these Tokoloshe were the ones he had met the day before. They had at least looked safe and friendly.
 

“Oh, they are hiding in the forest,” Hajiri said. “They are afraid of us. As well they should be, because their magic does not work on me.” He lowered his head and lapped at the little bucket of water Joe had drawn from the well. An old Tokoloshe man slipped out of the shadow of his hut and beckoned to Joe.

“Get away from the tiger,” he mouthed. “It is very dangerous.” A couple of wisened old heads poked out from behind huts and trees and nodded in agreement. Joe couldn’t see how he was to get away from the cat, even if he wanted to. And he wasn’t all that sure he wanted to. After all, the tiger had rescued him, in a way, and he seemed friendly enough.