PRESENT DAY
Deep beneath the old forest, where the roots of ancient trees had grown through stone and forgotten tunnels, Mama Nkiru stood inside the heart of the coven.
The chamber was enormous.
Its walls were made of dark volcanic stone, carved with symbols older than the coven itself.
Shelves had been built into the walls, holding clay jars filled with dried herbs, strange powders, bones, feathers, crystals and objects whose purposes had been forgotten by everyone except the oldest witches.
At the center of the room stood a circular altar.
Nine black candles surrounded it.
Their flames burned blue.
Mama Nkiru stood barefoot before the altar, dressed in a long dark robe.
Her grey hair hung freely down her back, and the beads around her neck clicked softly against one another whenever she moved.
A shallow stone bowl sat before her.
Inside it was water.
But the water wasn’t still.
It moved in slow circles beneath her hands.
Mama Nkiru raised both palms.
Her eyes closed.
“Anu ka siri, ala ka zara… Elohim na ọkụ, ọbara na-aza… Mbara no ke, mbara no ke… What was hidden, reveal. What was sleeping, awaken. What belongs to the blood, answer me.”
The candles flared.
Mama Nkiru continued.
“Eru-mah, selen-ka… Nso di n’ime ọbara a? Kedu ihe ka a zoro? Kedu ihe ka a hapụrụ?”
The water suddenly rose from the bowl.
It hung in the air like a floating sphere.
Mama Nkiru’s breathing slowed.
She could feel it.
Not a vision.
Not a memory.
Something real.
Something alive.
Her eyes opened.
“She is awake.”
The chamber doors burst open.
A young witch rushed inside, nearly stumbling over her own feet.
“High Priestess!”
Mama Nkiru frowned without turning around.
“What is it, child? Can’t you see I’m busy?”
The witch struggled to catch her breath.
“I felt her.”
Mama Nkiru froze.
The floating water dropped back into the bowl.
“Say that again.”
“I felt the child.”
Mama Nkiru turned slowly.
The young witch looked terrified.
Not of Mama Nkiru.
Of whatever she had encountered.
“Come closer.”
The witch obeyed.
“What did you feel?”
“I was in the eastern passage when it happened.
At first, I thought one of the younger witches had disturbed a ward.
Then everything went cold.”
“Cold?”
“Yes.”
“Continue.”
The witch swallowed.
“And then I heard something.”
“What?”
“A heartbeat.”
Mama Nkiru’s expression tightened.
“Whose?”
“I don’t know.”
“You came running into my chamber because you don’t know?”
The witch shook her head.
“There were two.”
Mama Nkiru said nothing.
“One was normal,” the witch continued.
“Slow.
Human.”
“And the second?”
The girl hesitated.
“It wasn’t.”
The blue flames flickered.
Mama Nkiru walked toward her.
“What do you mean it wasn’t?”
“I can’t explain it.”
“Try.”
“It sounded like a heartbeat, but it felt like fire.”
Mama Nkiru stared at her.
Then she looked toward the altar.
Twenty-six years.
Twenty-six years since the coven had first learned of the child.
Twenty-six years since their ritual had shown them a newborn whose blood carried things their books had never taught them to name.
They had searched.
They had watched.
They had waited.
And eventually, the trail had gone cold.
But now…
It had returned.
Mama Nkiru walked back to the altar.
“Hand over to you.”
The young witch blinked.
“High Priestess?”
Mama Nkiru extended her hand. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
“The stone.”
Understanding flashed across the witch’s face.
She quickly reached beneath her robe and produced a small black crystal.
She placed it in Mama Nkiru’s palm.
The crystal was cold.
Mama Nkiru closed her fingers around it.
Nothing happened.
Then…..
A pulse of golden light moved through the stone.
The young witch gasped.
Mama Nkiru’s eyes narrowed.
“Interesting.”
“What does it mean?”
“It means the child is no longer hidden.”
“Can we find her?”
Mama Nkiru looked at the crystal.
“We can try.”
She placed it on the altar.
Immediately, the symbols carved into the floor began to glow.
One after another.
The entire chamber came alive.
The blue flames turned white.
The black crystal rose from the altar.
Mama Nkiru began another incantation.
“Kala ven, oru ma… Asha kiri, blood remember… Follow the thread. Follow the blood. Follow what cannot be forgotten.”
The crystal spun.
A thin beam of light shot upward.
For several seconds, nothing happened.
Then the light fractured.
The chamber filled with images.
A man’s face.
Chike.
Then Lenora.
Then the image disappeared.
The witches had seen those two before.
But what came next made Mama Nkiru’s face change.
A child.
A newborn girl.
Then the image shifted.
The girl was older.
Still too blurred to see her face.
Fire surrounded her.
Something moved behind her.
Wings?
Smoke?
Shadow?
The vision changed before they could tell.
Another image.
A hand.
A golden mark.
Then darkness.
The crystal fell onto the altar.
The young witch stared.
“Is she a Phoenix?”
Mama Nkiru shook her head.
“No.”
“An Ancient?”
“No.”
“Then what is she?”
Mama Nkiru looked at the crystal.
“I don’t know.”
The witch frowned.
“But we saw the blood.”
“We did.”
“And the fire.”
“Yes.”
“And something else.”
“Yes.”
“Then why can’t you tell me what she is?”
Mama Nkiru finally looked at her.
“Because whatever she is becoming has never existed before.”
The young witch went quiet.
Mama Nkiru returned to the bowl.
“We made the mistake of thinking the child was an answer.”
“What do you mean?”
“We thought she would explain why Lenora sought Chike’s blood.”
Mama Nkiru touched the surface of the water.
“We were wrong.”
The water rippled.
“The child isn’t the answer.”
“Then what is she?”
Mama Nkiru stared into the darkening water.
“Perhaps she is the question.”
A soft sound came from the doorway.
Both witches turned.
Nothing.
The young witch whispered,
“High Priestess…”
Mama Nkiru raised a finger.
“Don’t.”
Nothing moved.
Then the black crystal on the altar cracked.
A tiny line appeared across its surface.
Mama Nkiru stepped toward it.
The crystal pulsed once.
Twice.
Then shattered.
The young witch jumped.
“What happened?”
Mama Nkiru picked up one of the fragments.
Her face had gone serious.
“She knows.”
“Who?”
“The child.”
“She knows we’re looking for her?”
“No.”
Mama Nkiru looked at the broken crystal.
“She knows someone is looking.”
The young witch stared at her.
“What do we do now?”
Mama Nkiru placed the fragment down.
“Nothing.”
“But High Priestess…?”
“We were too late twenty-six years ago.”
She turned toward the altar.
“We will not make the same mistake twice.”
“So we just watch?”
“For now.”
“And if she becomes dangerous?”
Mama Nkiru’s expression hardened.
“Then we will deal with what she becomes.”
The young witch nodded reluctantly.
Mama Nkiru returned to the bowl.
The chamber slowly settled.
The candles returned to their blue flames.
The ancient symbols faded.
But Mama Nkiru did not resume her ritual.
Something had changed.
She could feel it.
The child was no longer merely a distant presence in an old prophecy.
She was moving.
Growing.
Remembering.
And somewhere above them, beneath an ordinary roof and surrounded by a life that had become anything but ordinary, Zina Eze stirred in her sleep.
Her breathing changed.
Her fingers curled into the sheets.
Then she heard it.
A voice.
Soft.
Almost tender.
It came from nowhere.
“Little one…”
Zina’s eyes opened.
She sat up immediately.
Her room was dark.
For a few seconds, she simply stared into the darkness, trying to understand what had woken her.
Then the voice came again.
“Little one…”
Zina’s heart began to race.
She looked around her room.
“Who’s there?”
No answer.
She pushed the blanket aside and reached for the lamp.
Click.
Nothing.
The bulb refused to come on.
“Great.”
She grabbed her phone instead.
The screen lit her face.
Nothing.
No one.
Then, very close to her ear, the voice whispered…
“I have found you.”
Zina froze.
Her phone slipped from her hand.
It landed on the mattress.
She slowly turned toward the empty space beside her.
Nothing was there.
But for the first time in her life, Zina had the unmistakable feeling that someone was standing just beyond what her eyes could see.
Watching.
Waiting.
And somehow…
Calling her home.