'It must be a sea, not merely a lake,' Meren declared, and Taita sent him to fetch a pitcher of water from it.
'Now taste it, my good Meren,' he ordered. Gingerly Meren took a sip, and let it run round his mouth. Then he drank the rest of the pitcher.
'Salt sea?' Taita smiled kindly.
'Nay, Magus, sweet as honey. I was mistaken, and you were right.'
The lake was so large that it seemed to create its own wind system.
In the dawn the air was still and cool. What looked like smoke rose high into the air from the surface. The men discussed this animatedly.
'The water is heated by a volcano,' said one.
'No,' said another. 'The water rises like mist. It will fall again elsewhere as rain.'
'Nay, it is the fiery breath of a sea monster that lives in the waters,'
Meren said with authority.
In the end they looked at Taita for the truth.
'Spiders,' said Taita, which threw them into further passionate argument.
'Spiders do not fly. He means flies - dragon flies.'
'He toys with our credibility,' said Meren. 'I know him well. He loves his little jokes.'
Two days later the wind veered and one of the cloudy up-wellings drifted over the camp. Then as it reached land it began to descend. Fenn leapt high in the air and snatched something out of it.
'Spiders!' she squealed. 'Taita is never wrong.' The cloud was formed by countless newly hatched spiders, so immature as to be almost transparent.
Each had woven a gossamer sail, which it used to catch the dawn breeze and sail aloft to be transported to some new quarter of the lake.
As soon as the sun struck the surface the wind picked up, until by noon it was whipping the water to foaming frenzy. During the afternoon it subsided until, at sunset, all was calm and serene. Flights of flamingoes strung out along the horizon in wavy pink lines. Hippopotamuses wallowed like granite boulders, grunting and bellowing in the shallows, cavernous pink jaws gaping to threaten rivals with their long incisors. Mighty crocodiles stretched out on the sandbars, sunning themselves, holding their mouths wide open so that water birds could pick the scraps of flesh from between their stubby yellow fangs. The nights were still, with the stars reflected on the velvety black waters.
To the west the lake was so extensive that there was no sight of land, other than a few small islands that seemed to sail like dhows on the wind-torn surface. To the south, they could just make out the far shore of the lake. There were no high mountain peaks or volcanoes, just a blue tracing of low hills.
Poto had warned them about the ferocity of the local tribes, so they built a secure camp with branches from the thorny acacia trees that burgeoned on the shores of the lake. During the days the horses and mules grazed on the fine grasses that grew on the littoral, or waded out to feast on the water-lilies and other aquatic plants in the shallows.
'When will we set out to find Kalulu, the shaman?' Fenn demanded.
'This very evening after you have had your dinner.'
As he had promised he took her to the beach, where they gathered driftwood and built a small fire. They squatted over it and Taita took her hands in his, forming the circle of protection. 'If Kalulu is an adept, as Poto suggested, we can cast for him across the ether,' Taita told her.
'Can you do that, Taita?' Fenn asked, in awe.
'According to Poto, he lives in the marshes very close to this place, perhaps only a few leagues distant from where we are now. He is within easy call.'
'Is distance important?' Fenn asked.
Taita nodded. 'We know his name. We know his physical appearance, his amputated legs. Of course, it would be easier if we knew his spirit name, or if we possessed something of his person - a hair, nail clippings, sweat, urine or dung. However, I will teach you to cast for a subject with what we have.' Taita took a pinch of herbs from his pouch and threw them on to the fire. They flared in a cloud of pungent smoke. 'This will drive off any evil influence that may be hovering nearby,' he explained.
'Look into the flames. If Kalulu comes you will see him there.'
Still holding hands they began to sway in time to a soft humming that
Taita made deep in his chest. When Fenn had cleared her mind as he had taught her, they conjured up the three symbols of power, and silently conjugated them.I 'Mensaar!'
'Kydash!'
'Ncube!'
The ether sang round them. Taita cast into it.
'Kalulu, hearken! O legless one, open thine ears!' He repeated the invitation at intervals as the moon rose and travelled half-way towards its zenith.
Suddenly they felt the strike. Fenn gasped at the thrill, like a discharge of static through her fingertips. She stared into the fire, and saw the outline of a face. It looked to her like that of an ancient but eternally wise ape.
