Chapter 8 — The Sound That Woke The Thunder

Hondo had been unable to sleep that night. The thrumming of the drum had kept him awake. It only abated when he moved away from the temple. So he left Zugudini sleeping and the men working, and climbed back up the hill. There he tried to sleep again, but failed. He got up long before the sun rose, and sat on his mat, watching and waiting. As the stars slowly disappeared with the greying dawn, and Hondo walked to the crest of the hill. There he watched the sunrise. Its orange beams cut across the clear, blue sky and were soon beating down hard on the brown patches of grass that stretched across the plains beyond the valley. He mouthed a silent prayer to his ancestors, pressing ngomalungundu against his ribs, just to reassure himself that it was still there. Then he descended the hill and returned to the valley.

Zugudini was where he had left her, lying at the base of a tree. Gamba spotted Hondo returning. He marched up to him.

“We have cleared the perimeter, Grey Leopard.”

"Good. I want a wall of spears around the entire temple. Nothing and no one goes in or out without my knowing it.”

Gamba nodded and left to execute the order. Hondo took one last look at the sun, now higher in the sky, then followed after Gamba.

Dande kept watch as Luba examined the tread marks on the forest floor. The air was heavy and still. It was as though the entire forest was watching them. Dande's grip tightened on his spear. Luba straightened.

"We'd better leave our horses here and continue on foot," she said. "These marks are still fresh. We are getting close."

They hitched their horses onto a nearby tree and stole through the canopy, as quiet as shadows in the night.

Hondo, Gamba, and their men stood facing the ancient gates of the temple. The space was now clear. In the morning sun, Hondo studied the vine-covered pillars and headless statues that stood between the short, gnarly trees ringing the entrance. He noticed his men’s silence. Cautious movements and subdued voices had replaced their usual brusque swagger. They were afraid. The rumor about Nyatsimba's temple had been repeated around the campfires all through the night. Hondo noticed that their numbers had thinned somewhat. He turned to Gamba.

“Where are the others?”

“Gone, Grey Leopard.”

“Where?”

“They deserted during the night.”

Hondo hawked and spat. He had little regard for cowards.

“We can hunt them down,” Gamba said.

“No. We have more important things to deal with. Have the scouts returned?”

“Not yet. They should be back soon, though.”

“If they haven’t deserted.”

He kicked a rock and walked over to Zugudini. Gamba followed him. Hondo examined the ropes binding her hands and feet. They were tight, but drew no blood. He pressed the back of his hand to her cheek. The young woman groaned quietly and stirred.

“She is cold. How much longer until she wakes up?”

“Likely in an hour.”

“Then let us go in now. We do not know where the altar is. The solstice needs to find us there. Place her in a litter.” Gamba relayed the order. Two men came forward carrying a stretcher of acacia branches and cowhide.

"Be careful," Hondo said, as the men lifted Zugudini onto it. “I do not want a single scratch on her.”

The men lowered Zugudini carefully onto the litter, then picked it up slowly. Hondo pulled a long knife out of a sheath on his side and examined it. Its intricate markings glinted in the sun. He put it back in it's sheath, then grasped his spear firmly.

“It is time,” he said. “Let's go.”

Dande and Luba crept through the undergrowth. The morning breeze carried the smell of horse dung. They were getting close. Luba stopped, and sniffed the air.

“Men,” she whispered.

“How many?”

“Many. Stay here.” He nodded, and she slipped into the undergrowth. A few minutes later, she returned.

"The trees clear up near the base of the valley. That's where they've set up camp. There are no scouts in the forest, but there’s a ring of spearmen protecting something.”

“It's the Temple," Dande said. "Hondo found it. That’s where he’s taking Zugudini. We have to find a way in.”

“There’s no entrance. At least, I didn’t see any.”

“We just need to find the place with the most soldiers. That will be the way in.”

Luba shook her head in disbelief.

"Unlike you, I want to see the sun rise tomorrow."

"We just might. Lead the way."

They padded through the undergrowth like cats. The horse ride and the snack of meat and cassava had restored their strength, making them resume their usual caution. The trees and bushes thinned out. Soon, they came to the tree line. Up ahead, a clump of masked men, heavily armed, stood on guard, their eyes scanning the trees around them.

“That’s the entrance,” Dande said. “We can’t see it, but it’s around there.”

They dropped onto their bellies and inched forward, taking in the vine-covered pillars, the short, gnarly trees, the headless statues. Luba gasped and froze in her tracks. Dande looked where she pointed. Two men were going through a narrow archway and descending a set of stairs. They carried a litter. A third man followed. Even with his mask on, Dande knew that lean frame, coiled like a spring.

“Gamba.”

“If they’ve hurt Zugi I’ll kill them.”

“They haven’t. They need her for—”

He froze. A masked man walked towards them, staring straight ahead. They held their breath, hoping and praying to their ancestors that he wouldn't find them. Dande tightened his grip on his spear, ready to spring to his feet and do battle as the soldier drew closer. If he caught the man by surprise, then he might be able to stifle the man's cries and keep their presence there a secret. But he would have to wait until he was close enough to stab the man with his spear. It wouldn't do to throw it. Just as he was about to leap to his feet and surprise the man, the soldier veered off his course and headed in another direction, away from them. In a moment, the steady hiss of urine came to their ears. Dande got an idea. He rose to his feet, motioned to Luba to be quiet, and snuck off into the woods.

The soldier was urinating against a tree. Dande moved quickly. He rushed upon the man, who was already spinning around to face him, drove his spear through his heart and pressed the man’s face into his chest. The man yelled but his cry was muffled. Then he crumpled to the ground, his sightless eyes staring at Dande. Dande yanked out his spear and wiped it on the man's legs. Luba came up.

"Are you planning on killing them one by one?"

"No. I just need his mask.”

A moment later, they had returned to their vantage point. Dande now wore a Vana Va Lungundu mask and a set of bracelets with little pouches attached. The dead soldier’s black oxhide shield completed his disguise.

"I don't even want to know what they put in those pouches in their bracelets," Luba said. "They stink." Dande sniffed the leather pouches strapped around his arms. He twitched his nose at the rotting odor rising off them.

"You're not the one wearing them. Stop complaining."

"So you walk in there with the mask? Then what?"

"I won't be able to just walk there. Those men at the steps don't look like they'll just let anyone in." They studied the guards standing at arched doorway. Ahead of them, more guards paced up and down. Dande's eyes flitted across the temple courtyard, past the wall of guards, to the forest nearby. Vast swathes of dry brushwood, accumulated over many years, lay at the feet of the trees. He turned to Luba and could see that she was thinking along the same lines.

"You've got your flint?"

"Always."

"I’ll need a diversion. Start a fire. Once I’m in, follow me.

Large billows of black smoke spewed out of the undergrowth. The soldiers noticed them and simply stared, unsure what to do. The flames spread rapidly. In a few minutes, the crackling branches and scorching heat had the horses anxious. They pawed the ground, snorting and tugging at their reins. One broke loose and bolted. Another followed. And another.

"The horses! Get the horses!" The cry echoed up and down the rows of soldiers. Several broke ranks and ran to pacify the steeds. Others attempted to beat back the fire with green branches, hurriedly chopped off the trees.

In the midst of all the chaos, Dande emerged from his hiding place and walked cooly to the entrance of the Temple. The first row of guards were busied with the fire, but up ahead of them, the sentries at the door remained at their station. As he approached, the two soldiers stepped into his path and crossed their spears, blocking his way.

"Nobody goes in," one of them said. “Grey Leopard's orders."

“He told me to let him know personally if anything happens outside."

"Did you hear what we said?"

Dande stepped up to their faces, his mask pressing against the spears.

"When Grey Leopard comes out and finds our horses gone without his knowing it, it will be on your heads."

“What is your name?”

Dande thought quickly.

“What’s yours?”

“I asked you first.”

“You don’t know me. I was sworn in a few days ago with the other new ones. Now, will you let me pass, or do you want me to tell Grey Leopard about your disobeying him?”

The two soldiers exchanged a quick glance. Their scared eyes peeked out at Dande's from behind their masks. They stepped aside and raised their spears. Dande grunted and marched in.

Hondo, Gamba, and the soldiers hurried down the labyrinthine passages of the temple, not stopping to look at the faceless marble statues that lined the corridors. Half-crumbled pillars and meandering roots slowed them down. The men gazed warily at the sagging roofs, weighed down by vines and foliage, fearing that their echoing footsteps would be the final straw that would bring them down and crush them. The air was dank, stale and hot. A heavy silence added to the oppressive heat. They pushed on, not daring to speak. The whoosh of their torches and their heavy footsteps echoed off the walls. Somewhere out of the darkness, came a muffled, distant shout.

"Did you hear that?" Gamba asked. They paused and listened. Fear gripped at their throats as the memories of all the fireside tales from the night before returned . More shouts and yells echoed up and down the passageway. They were beneath a shaft of sunlight now. A tiny hole in the roof let in a sliver of the sun’s rays. Hondo stepped beneath it and gazed at the sky. The sun blazed away, nearing its zenith. It was almost noon. The noise was louder where they stood.

“It’s coming from outside,” Hondo said. He turned to the men carrying Zugudini’s litter. "You two. Go and see to it." They nodded, and set the litter down. "If you meet anyone," Hondo added, "Kill them." The men grunted and left.

“Gamba, carry her. I’ll take your spear.”

Gamba handed it to him, then hoisted Zugudini off the stretcher and slung her across his shoulder. Hondo strapped the drum across his back and, holding two spears in one hand and the torch in the other, continued down the passage.

Luba watched the soldiers rushing to and fro, trying to corral the horses and put out the flames. Keeping to the cover the trees and bushes gave, she snuck as close as she could to the Temple’s entrance. She scanned the horizon for any guards. All of them were distracted. She broke cover and darted for a nearby tree.

"You there!"

She spun around. A masked soldier stared straight at her. She grinned and waved, and raised her hands above her head. She was unarmed. The soldier paused, confused. Luba pointed past his shoulder. There was something behind him. The man turned around to see a horse bearing down on him. He leaped out of the way, rolled on the ground and was on his feet in an instant. Luba was gone. The soldier scratched his head. He scoured the surroundings. Just then, he spotted a tiny figure darting towards the entrance.

"Stop her!"

He broke into a run. Four more soldiers saw him racing, pointing his spear at the intruder. They joined the chase. At the arched doorway, the two sentinels saw her coming and leveled their spears. Luba put on a sudden burst of speed, and charged right at them. At the very last instant, inches away from their spear tips, she shot her feet out in front of her and went to ground. She skidded on the dusty floor, her momentum carrying her between the legs of the guards. They reacted quickly, but not quickly enough. As they spun around, Luba was already barreling down the stairs. The guards roared in fury and tore after her.

Dande ran past the mildew-covered walls and the cracked, faceless statues lining them. His clattering steps echoed up and down the passage. The mask made it harder to see and to breathe in the dank, stale air. Now he understood why the Vana Va Lungundu did all their drills wearing them. Too bad he didn't have that training. Just as he was about to yank it off, two masked men rounded a corner and came running towards him. He halted, as did they.

“Why are you here?”

"There's trouble outside. A fire.”

“We will tell Grey Leopard,” the other one said. “You may return.”

The men turned around.

“Wait! I have another message for him."

“What is it?”

"I have to deliver it in person. Grey Leopard's orders."

"Didn't you hear me?" The first soldier took a step forward. “We will give him the message. You may return.”

"Will you let me through or not?"

“Make me repeat myself,” the first soldier said, “and it will be my spear that will do the talking.”

"Then let's talk this over," Dande said, leveling his spear. The first soldier charged at him, hoping to catch him by surprise. Dande was ready for him. He yanked off his mask and hurled it at the man. It smashed into his face, disorienting him for a split second. That was all Dande needed. He stabbed the man’s gut, then ducked out of the way as the other thrust at him. The spear struck hard into the stone, and snapped in half. Dande tackled him to the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the first soldier pick up his spear. Dande scuttled across the floor, dragging the man he grappled with. The man let out a loud yell as the spear meant for Dande pierced his back and went straight through his side. The first soldier tried to pull the spear out. Dande grabbed his own spear off the floor, pointed it upwards, and pushed with all his might. The spear pierced the soldier's groin and lifted him clean off his feet. He fell to the floor, writhing and gasping. Dande pulled out his spear, wiped it on the man's loin cloth, and sprinted down the passage.

Luba sprinted down the dark passageways of the temple, leaping and vaulting over the collapsed pillars and python-like tree roots blocking her path. She glanced over her shoulder and swore under her breath. Six men were on her tail. She ran as fast as her short legs could carry her. She knew that in an out-and-out race, she did not stand a chance against fully grown men whose strides were easily three times hers. Her only chance was to lose them. Then what? How would she find her way out again? And how would she find Zugudini and Dande? Things did not look good. She pushed her fears aside. She needed to shake off her pursuers first, and then she would think about finding the others and finding a way out. The pounding steps chasing after her were getting louder. They were gaining on her. She spotted an opening to her right. The men chasing her would have a hard time getting through it. Without another thought, she hurled herself into it.

Honda and Gamba continued down the central passage. Its walls, once vibrant, were now a dull grey. Mossy green tendrils covered the path, making them slip and slide as they went. Gamba strained under Zugudini’s weight. More than once, Hondo had to drop his spears and clutch his arm, steadying him against a fall. They continued in that way for some time, until eventually, panting and sweating, they arrived at a crossroads. They paused and stared at the three archways that opened up before them. Gamba lay Zugudini gently on the ground. Hondo held the torch against the archways, and studied their markings.

“Which way, Grey Leopard?”

“I don’t know.”

He took the stone tablet out of the pouch, where it lay beside ngomalungundu. He perused it, but it held no clues. He would have to take a guess. He mouthed a silent prayer to his ancestors. They had brought him this far. They would not fail him. He pointed at the archway in the middle.

"This way.”

Luba no longer knew which way she was going. She had lost all sense of direction. The narrow crack had proven to be the entrance to a tunnel. It was dark, but not pitch black. She paused to listen for any footsteps behind her. There were none. As she had guessed, the crack was too narrow for the soldiers to squeeze through. She allowed her eyes a few moments to adjust to the darkness, then set off again at a quick trot. Behind her, there was a loud crack. Then another and another. Then shouting. Loud footsteps echoed down the tunnel. She swore under her breath. The soldiers had hewn the tunnel entrance and were after her again. They were persistent, she would give them that. She put on a fresh burst of speed, keeping her eyes on the walls and floor in case another gaping hole would prove to be her sudden deliverance or her sudden death.

Hondo and Gamba slipped and struggled to maintain their footing on the cracked and broken steps. The route that Hondo had chosen had declined steeply then become a series of steps, carved into the rock. Gamba was exhausted. Hondo wasn’t sure how much further he could go. He would have to relieve him soon. They could not afford to slow down any more. Just as he was about to order Gamba to put Zugudini down, a faint light glimmered up ahead. A cool, refreshing breeze wafted past them, making the air less dank and heavy.

“We are almost there,” Hondo said.

“Yes, Grey Leopard.”

“We don’t have much time. We need to hurry.”

They hurried through it and found themselves in a vast underground chamber. Its floor was of closely cobbled stones. Conical pillars hugged its wall, covered in moss and mildew. A vaulted rooftop towered over them. In the roof, a round hole allowed a single shaft of sunlight. It bathed the cavern in a soft, gentle light, and lit up the edge of three circular stone slabs stacked in the middle of the room—each smaller than the one below, forming rough steps that rose to the height of a man.

"This is it," Hondo said. "The inner sanctuary." He pointed at the slabs in the middle of the room.

“And that’s the altar.” He glanced at the shaft of sunlight shining through the roof. Even as he watched, it inched ever so slowly across the slabs, creeping towards their canter.

“It’s almost time. Place her on the altar.”

Gamba lay Zugudini gently at he base of the first and widest stone ring. She groaned and murmured.

"Untie her.” Gamba did so. Hondo knelt down. He took the drum, the knife and the stone tablet out of the pouch and lay them beside the girl.

“Let’s get her to the top.”

Between the two of them, they carried Zugudini up the steps and laid her across the topmost slab. Her feet dangled over its edge. Hondo got the drum, the knife and the tablet, and set them on the middle slab. He turned the tablet over, and muttered the words carved there softly to himself.

“Is it time, Grey Leopard.”

Hondo stared at the yellow dot of sunshine that crawled across the altar.

“Almost.”

Dande ran down the passageway. The light was dim and pale, filtering through cracks overhead. In the dust, two sets of footsteps stood out clear against the thick layer that covered everything. Hondo. And Gamba. He followed them, half-walking and half-running. He pushed away the thought that he was too late. That Hondo had already done it. He came to a crossroads. Three archways stood before him. The footsteps on the ground showed him where to go. He sprinted down the middle one.

Luba had no idea where she was going. She had to lose the soldiers. They were faster than her. She had to find another nook in the wall. A spear flew past her head and slammed into the wall. She swore under her breath and veered right. The soldiers kept coming. Their breathing was labored. Their footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Dande ran. The air was lighter now. A draft was coming from somewhere. It was easier to breathe. He sucked in mouthfuls of it he sprinted. A light shone up ahead, just beyond another archway. His instincts told him to pick up the pace, told him that he was close. He sprinted past the archway and into a vast cavern. In the middle, two figures were huddled over a pile of stones. They looked up as he skidded in.

“Kill him.”

Gamba picked up his spear and shield and stalked across the room. Dande waited for him. In their time together, they had spent several hours sparring. They knew each other’s moves well. Gamba paused within stabbing distance. Dande noticed the look in his eyes. Was it pity?

“You should have stayed out of this, brother,” he said.

“I don’t want to kill you.”

“We will let the ancestors decide.”

Gamba lunged at Dande with his spear. Not having a shield, Dande parried the blow with his spear, forcing him to leave his side exposed. Gamba swung the butt of his spear upwards and smashed it into Dande’s rib. Dande fell down hard, but was on his feet in an instant. He glanced at Hondo. He stood poised over Zugudini, knife in hand, watching the beam of sunlight crawl past the second step. He did not have much time. He would have to end Gamba quickly.

“Keep your eyes on me, Dande. Rule number one.”

He yelled and thrust his spear at Dande. Dande dodged the blow. He needed to draw Gamba to the wall, make him think he had him cornered. Gamba thrust again and again, and Dande dodged every blow, backing towards the wall with every duck and every slip.

“You cannot dodge forever. Stand and fight.”

Dande’s back hit the cold, hard wall. Gamba sneered.

“You have nowhere to run.”

He raised his spear and brought it down with a yell. Dande dropped to one knee. The spear rammed into the wall, sending a shock down Gamba's arm. He stumbled back, even as Dande launched himself at him. Dande brought his arm down and wrapped it around the spear shaft, trapping it. Gamba swung at him with his fist. Dande ducked, dodging the punch. Then, with his arm still locked in Gamba’s spear arm, he pulled Gamba towards him and pushed his spear straight through Gamba’s chest. Gamba paused, his eyes widening in pain.

“So the ancestors have decided,” he said.

“Goodbye, brother.”

Dande pushed him back as he pulled the spear out. Gamba collapsed to the ground. Not giving him a second look, Dande sped towards the altar.

Hondo heard Gamba and Dande battling, but he ignored them. His focus was on the sunlight. He was mere moments away from the sacrifice, moments away from claiming the power of the drum for himself. The sunbeam crawled onto the central altarpiece. Hondo's breath caught in his chest. This was it. This was the moment he had been waiting for. He raised the knife in his right hand, and read from the tablet in his left.

“Great ancestor Shabaka, hear us beneath the solstice sun!

As Nyatsimba's comet burns above, we spill sacred blood with this blessed blade.

Accept our offering of ngomalungundu’s bride!

Send rain to your children!”

The spear came fast and silent—punched straight into Hondo's arm, tearing muscle clean from bone. His blade went wild, caught Zugudini's shoulder with just the tip. Blood welled up, dark against her skin, and dripped down onto the altar, onto the drum's taut surface.

Hondo's scream split the air like breaking stone. The sound of a man learning what real pain feels like. Blood jetted from his arm in thick pulses, painting everything—drum, altar, Zugudini's unconscious face. The warm splash across her cheek brought her back. Her eyes fluttered open to shadows moving above her, one shape slamming into another, both of them rolling away into darkness.

It felt as if her skull was cracked open. Eyes sticky with sleep and blood, the world swimming back into focus—dust motes dancing in a single shaft of light. Stone floor beneath her, cold and unforgiving against her spine. She tried to sit up. Bad idea. The room tilted sideways and her body gave up, dumping her onto her side like a broken plaything.

The pain in her head kept time with her pulse. Throb. Throb. Throb. Each beat threatened to split her open. She shut her eyes against the pain, against the drumbeat that shook her body. But it would not stop.

Throb. Throb. Throb.

Hondo’s knee cracked against Dande’s skull like stone on stone. The man dropped hard, limbs splayed across the dirt. But Hondo was already moving—eyes locked on the spear glinting near the altar. His fingers closed around the shaft. Cold wood, slick with warm blood.

He drove the point down. Dande twisted away at the last second and the blade sparked off stone, sending vibrations up Hondo’s arms. Dande lurched upright, wild-eyed and stumbling.

Now Hondo came at him like something unleashed—spear cutting the air in savage arcs. Dande ducked, weaved, scrambled backward on hands and knees. His eyes found what he needed: another spear beside Gamba’s cooling corpse. He broke for it in a desperate sprint.

Hondo let him run. Time. He had time now. Just needed to finish what he’d started—speak the final words, complete the ritual. He turned back to the altar.

Empty stone stared back at him.

His mind went blank. Then movement caught his eye—there, on the far side, a pale shape dragging itself down the altar’s base. Zugudini. Crawling away like a wounded animal.

“No!” The word tore from his throat.

Behind him, footsteps. Dande, spear in hand, closing fast.

Hondo stumbled back under the attack, defending himself, swinging blindly at Dande with his spear. Dande steered him away from the altar and away from Zugudini. Hondo’s arm ached. He was losing blood. He needed an advantage and he needed it quickly. In a single swift motion, he snapped the shaft of his spear and closed the distance between himself and Dande. Dande backed off, but Hondo kept up with him. He would not give him space to swing or to thrust or to shorten his own spear. Like a man with nothing more to lose, like a man staring death in the face, he thrust and stabbed at Dande. Dande couldn’t bear up under the attack. Exhaustion swept over him like a wave. The strength drained from his knee, and he lost his footing and stumbled. This was it. Time for the killing blow.

To his surprise, Hondo spun around and made a mad dash for the altar. His hands found her at the bottom step—lungs working like bellows, each breath a desperate rasp. He hauled her up by the shoulders, her body dead weight against his grip. She fought him, what little she had left—fingers clawing at stone, heels scraping for purchase.

But there was nothing there. Her strength had bled out with everything else, leaving her hollow as an empty skin. He dumped her back onto the altar like a sack of grain. She lay there broken, chest rising and falling in shallow, defeated gasps.

Dande pulled himself onto his feet. Every wound on his chest, arms and legs was screaming. He blinked back the pain and spotted Hondo. He was at the altar again. His blood stained hands were hoisting up the blade. Dande grabbed his spear, and half-limped and half-ran.

This time, Hondo was ready. He swung the knife in a wide arc at Dande’s tummy as he reached the top step. Dande arched his back, and the knife grazed his chest, sending a stream of blood onto the altar. Dande ignored the fresh bout of pain, and stabbed. Hondo parried, his knife smashing against the spear with a harsh clang.

The two dueled up and down the steps of the altar, blood dripping from their wounds and coating the altar, the drum and Zugudini in crimson. Metal clashing into metal, metal clashing into stone.

The sounds crashed over Zugudini like waves against distant rocks—metal on metal, flesh on stone, men trying to kill each other. Her eyes cracked open. The pain in her skull threatened to split her apart, but she bit down hard and forced herself up onto one elbow.

Across the altar, two shadows danced their death dance. The drum lay toppled on its side, blood-spattered and gleaming in that single shaft of light cutting through the darkness. Beautiful and terrible at once. Throb. Throb. Throb. It called to her. She had to take it. Take it and get away. Take it and destroy it. It called to her. It called to her. Almost spoke to her. She had to take it. Take it and…

Dande drove forward, spear swinging through the air, forcing Hondo back step by grinding step. Down away from the altar, away from Zugudini. His strength was exhausted, every thrust pulling from reserves that weren’t there.

But Hondo moved like water. Like he’d been born with a blade in his hands. Each of Dande’s desperate attacks met only empty air, and Hondo’s counter-strikes came faster now, more precise. A predator wearing down wounded prey, his knife gave him the advantage at such close quarters. He dodged a glancing blow from Dande and, straightening up, stabbed Dande in the ribs. Dande winced. His knees buckled beneath him. Honda leaped in and delivered two quick stabs to Dande's chest. One missed, the other found its mark. Dande swooned as the pain shot up his side. Hondo stepped in for another stab, but Dande raised his spear and lunged. Hondo sidestepped. Dande lost his balance and tumbled forward. Hondo’s fist caught him full in the face, sending him onto his back. He lay there panting, staring at Hondo’s unblinking eyes. Staring at death. Hondo dropped onto his knee, and picked up Dande’s spear.

“Greetings to your father.”

Hondo raised the spear high—muscles coiled, death poised at the point. Dande squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the blade to punch through bone and breath.

The earth bucked beneath him instead.

Stone cracked. The world tilted sideways and dumped him hard against the wall. His eyes snapped open just as Hondo’s spear bit deep into rock, missing his throat by a finger’s width. The blade stuck fast, quivering like a struck mbira key.

Hondo staggered, fighting for balance as the ground rolled under his feet. Not random tremors—something deliberate. Rhythmic. Keeping time with a sound that rose from the stone itself.

Throb. Throb. Throb.

Deep as thunder. Old as the temple’s bones. Old as the bones in the drum.

Hondo wrenched his spear free and spun toward the altar. What he saw made a roar of pure rage tear from his chest.

There she was. Zugudini, slumped over ngomalungundu like a broken bird, her bloodied hands working the drum’s surface. Each strike sent power thrumming through stone and bone and air—the temple’s heartbeat made manifest.

The sound that would wake the thunder.