* * *
Albert was absent from the meetings that resulted in a final agreement to maintain peace between the towns. Though the peacekeeping committee had invited him to participate, he sent a representative to fill his spot, claiming that he had significant issues to resolve. The populace was losing faith in him. They blamed the clashes and the difficulties that befell Ide, including hunger and famine and all manners of ills, on his inability to occupy the throne. Pressure mounted on the kingmakers to find an immediate replacement. The kingmakers had started to doubt Albert’s eligibility for the position. They had one final step to carry out before they threw the position open to the next in line—to consult the oracle, a powerful and unseen force for providing prophecies or punishment directly to recipients. The intermediary, the chief priestess, attempts to commune with the ancestors to understand their feelings about the condition of the land. One of two things could happen after a future king visits the oracle: they either return with the power needed to take on their new role, or they prepare to die within days of the divination. Should the oracle decree in favor of Albert, he would come out of the experience alive and get crowned King; otherwise, he may suffer dire consequences and pay with his life. No living being in Ide had ever witnessed such a calamity; the recently deceased King had ruled for fifty years, and the King before him had ruled for seventy, and both had assumed office without incident.
“Are you sure you need to go through this?” I asked Albert when I visited the palace in Ide. I no longer had an atom of feeling for him, but from what I’d heard about the oracle, it was not something to meddle with. It was an extremely dangerous venture, dangerous enough to prompt me to defy the odds and visit him. I needed to warn him.
“What other choice is there?” he asked, searching my face in anticipation.
“I don’t know. There has to be some other way.”
“I have tried everything in my power. There’s no other way, my dear. I have to possess the staff. That’s the only way there is.”
I felt a tinge of sadness when I heard him say, “My dear.” It reminded me of what we once were. If someone had told me that I could love someone one day and hate them the next, I wouldn’t have believed it. Yet, here I was sitting across from Albert in his study and wondering what I really felt for him. Not hate, and certainly not love. I snapped myself out of my reverie as I remembered I had come there for a reason.
“This oracle business seems to be taking things to a dangerous level,” I said. “I don’t think you need to do everything the kingmakers ask you to do. Amah told me something the other day that resonated with me. She said it might be time to do away with these old traditions, and I agree with her. They’re just too destructive at times.”
“You both are right,” he said, jumping out of his chair. “Why do I need this bunch of losers that call themselves kingmakers to take the staff? The throne is my birthright. The throne belongs to me. When I become king, I will banish those customs. I’ll banish those men—”
I opened my mouth to speak, but he raised his hand to stop me.
“And I don’t want to disappoint you,” he continued, pointing at me. “You’ve already been groomed to be Queen. What will people think if we leave things as they are? Eh? And what about me?”
I cringed when he said ‘queen’, but he was too engrossed in his speech to notice my disgust. I glared at him as he continued to rant about what, and who he thought had caused his misfortune. He blamed his father, his mother, and even blamed me. He claimed my waywardness had somehow come in the way. Halfway through his rant, he announced, “I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”
“I don’t know,” I said, easing back into my chair and regretting ever coming to visit him.
The longer I looked at him, the more I realized my folly. How could I have chosen this one over Okem? Oh no, I didn’t actually choose him, I quickly reminded myself. He appeared out of nowhere.
His features had grown pale, and his beard was scraggly. Things seemed to be getting worse for him.
“Forgive me,” he said, jolting me from my reverie.
“For what?”
He sighed deeply and walked towards me to take my hand.
“I’m just lashing out at everyone,” he said in a pleading tone. “Promise me you’ll never, ever, leave my side. Please. You’re the only one I can count on. Everyone seems to have deserted me.”
I felt sorry for him. There was no use in kicking someone who was already down, so I simply nodded. He must have sensed my hesitation.
“You won’t ever leave me. Will you?”
I shook my head, afraid that his miserable mood may soon turn to anger, and his anger to my getting punched in the face.
“No. I won’t.”
* * *
That night, I dreamt that something was chasing me, and I woke up suddenly, drenched in sweat, as a powerful feeling overcame me. My heart was pounding, and I felt paralyzed with fear. Feeling extremely clammy, I got up to change into a different nightgown. My heart was now beating steadily, and I was afraid but couldn’t figure out why. I remembered that Amah was leaving in a few days, so I picked up the phone to call her but stopped as I realized it was only 3 AM. Throwing my
