Initiation

By Daisy Ozouwain

Return to the Kingdom of Oyuda for more adventures in the installment of the HELL to PAY trilogy written by Daisy Ozouwain.

Kenya is torn between going back home to Kizandjo or staying in New Orleans with Damian. She is also struggling with her newfound vampiric condition, causing her to hallucinate.

Since their eldest daughter’s abduction, queen Amina has been reticent to let her two daughters out of her sight. When Zainabu insists on going through her initiation ceremony, queen Amina gives in against her better judgment, since king Tomparo has assured her their daughter would be safe. However, they haven’t taken into account Kapueo and Sita’s need for revenge.

Will the goddess Hel be of any assistance to the rightful king or will she side with her new protégés?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Daisy Ozouwain
• Release date: Sep 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781732129665

Daisy Ozouwain

Daisy Ozouwain was born in Gabon, and raised in France and Côte d’Ivoire. Her background is in American Literature and Civilization studies. After graduating from Université Paris 7 Denis Diderot in Paris, she decided to focus on a profession that would encompass two of her favorite things: television and translation. Daisy started her career at a dubbing company in France, where she worked on TV series from various international channels and studios. Job opportunities led her from Massachusetts, New York, to California where she currently resides. She had put her writing ambition on the back burner while she pursued a career in localization. She is now ready to release her first novella, HELL to PAY, which is the start of the trilogy she is working on.

Book preview

1

New Orleans

---

Kenya! Kenya?

Huh?

Did you hear the question? Bertha, the leader of the Refuge, asked.

The Refuge had been a sanctuary where she had felt safe for the first time since she’d been taken away from her hometown of Kizandjo. At least, that’s how she’d felt. Not so much now that she’d been accused of making four people vanish. And killing one.

Did you know James, Charles, Emma, or Anna? The four people who went missing?

No, Kenya replied. I’ve made very few friends since I came here. I was only close to...Jo.

Speaking about her, what can you tell us about Jo? How did you two meet?

You know very well how we met!

Kenya heard a snort. When she looked around, she wasn’t surprised to see it came from Charity, Bertha’s second in command at the Refuge.

Once again, the crowd gathered around and reminded her of that time when she was forced to leave her clan. Her uncle’s betrayal still stung.

Who would have thought she would once more find herself in such a situation so soon after?

She sat on a wooden stool opposite the crowd, in the big ballroom they used as a dining room.

There were two big chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. A fresco decorated the walls, and golden drapes framed the big windows.

She stared at the fresco again. It depicted the lake and the wooded area surrounding the Refuge. She’d noticed the torch near the lake for the first time earlier that day. Its light flickered, making it look very real. Then, as unexpectedly as it had appeared, it disappeared. Did anybody else see this? She looked about, but nobody seemed to have noticed.

She yawned, her mouth wide opened, her arms far stretched. But she didn’t put her hands in front of her mouth like her mother had taught her. She could hear the woman chiding her.

Pang.

"Do not think about them. Do not think about them," she repeated to herself.

This trial was doing a number on her sleeping cycle. She wiped the tears that had formed around her eyes. As she looked around, she noticed the crowd had taken a step back. She frowned. What had they seen? She ran her tongue across her teeth, the tip of the tongue dipping into the grooves of each one, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Kenya stared at the sea of faces; some with icy or narrowed gazes, others with sad smiles or confused looks. The only friendly face she could spot was Natalie’s. No signs of Damian. She hadn’t seen him in the week since she was first notified of this trial. That bothered her. She thought he would have been by her side to deal with this situation.

Answer the question! Charity interjected, taking her out of her reverie.

Charity, Bertha admonished. If you cannot keep quiet, I will ask you to leave the room.

It is clear she has no intention of answering!

I do want to answer, but I’m quite tired. I have a headache, Kenya replied while massaging her temples.

Bertha sighed.

Okay, we’ll start tomorrow morning again, she declared.

I know the way. No need to send someone to escort me, Kenya said in a small voice so only Bertha could hear.

You know I cannot do that, Bertha replied while glancing at Charity. We have sets of rules we must follow when we hold trials.

I know... I don’t mean to be difficult, the young woman answered. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Kenya left and walked toward the back door, where Natalie was already waiting for her. Natalie grabbed her arm. Kenya turned around to observe how people rearranged the place back into an eating area. They pushed the benches in the center of the room around the big tables that could accommodate 15 people at a time.

Laughter, babbling, and shouts erupted, creating that floating feeling of cheerfulness in the air anew. Her presence, no doubt, made people feel uncomfortable. Kenya shook her head.

Suddenly, Natalie squeezed her arm. Her friend’s heartbeat became erratic, and she started fidgeting with her hair.

How do I look? Natalie asked.

You look lovely, Kenya retorted. I’m sure François will agree with me.

François LeClerc was the guard who had been assigned to them. He’d been fetching them to and from the ballroom for the past couple of days. She was not sure how he could protect them if something were ever to happen. The man looked more like a dandy than a fighter. His clothes were always impeccable. Today, he wore a white tailcoat with a creased white and blue striped high waist pants. His elaborated knotted cravat was the highlight of his garment and the most crucial accessory. At least, that was the cue she got from the way he would readjust it all the time.

Shining black boots completed the look.

"You weren’t going to leave without moi, ladies?" he asked in his French accent.

Of course, not! Natalie replied. We wouldn’t dare!

They both laughed.

He extended his arm to Natalie. She took it eagerly.

Did I mention how lovely you look today?

Natalie blushed.

They proceeded to walk toward the cottage, which was located behind the big house, Natalie, and François in front while Kenya followed right behind.

François hadn’t even bothered offering his arm to Kenya, for she’d refused every time in the past week. It would have been weird for her to accept. The gesture was too intimate and reminded her of Damian.

Damian.

She groaned. The man had a way to cloud her thoughts at the most unexpected moments.

Is everything alright back there? François asked.

Kenya nodded. He smiled and gave her a knowing look.

Sometimes she felt he could read her mind. It was impossible, though. Only one person had been able to get inside her head.

The oracle.

She had come to her rescue at a time Kenya needed it the most. The oracle had told her what to do to survive. Kenya had been so scared on that slave ship, that it had only dawned on her, long after she’d arrived at the Refuge, that the oracle was a woman. How extraordinary! She wished she’d seen her father’s face when he had met the oracle for the first time.

Pang.

"Do not think about him. Do not think about them," Kenya berated herself once again. It was the only way she could avoid the pain. She had thought about going back home to her family, but she didn’t know the way. Captain Peterson, George, would have been able to help, but she did not know where he was. She also could not use her father’s ring as she had left all her belongings on the ship. People might have recognized King Tomparo’s gold lion ring and would have willingly assisted her. Her father was well-known in faraway regions he had explored during his apprenticeship.

Tell me more about Paris, Natalie pleaded with François.

What would you like to know?

Anything. Tell me more about it, Natalie repeated.

Kenya sighed. She was grateful for the respite Natalie gave her with her question. She could now stop dwelling on things she could not fix, for now. The reprieve would be short-lived, though. Once in the quietness of her bedroom, she would start thinking about them again.

Ah, Parrris! François replied. The most beautiful city in the world. It is the centre for finance, science, arts, but most importantly, fashion.

Natalie giggled.

What is so funny? he inquired.

When you say ‘centre’, she said in her perfect English accent. "It sounds like ‘centrrre.’ The way you roll the r’s, I find it funny."

"You mean like squirrrrel, thorrrrough, grrreat, rrred?"

They burst out laughing.

You are incorrigible, Natalie replied.

They continued chatting, but Kenya zoned them out.

It was late afternoon. The sun was beating down on the lush vegetation with its exotic species and golden rain trees that reminded her of the Okoumé trees or even the mangrove in Oyuda.

Kenya had very little time to think about her family this time around. She was too busy shielding herself from the sun by using the branches from the trees close by.

She changed the shape of a tree, rearranged flowers by color and height. Later, she built piles of dead leaves.

Kenya giggled. She was genuinely having fun, so much so that she stumbled.

Watch out! François said as he helped Kenya back to her feet. You did well here, he added, pointing out the cleaned garden.

Natalie pursed her lips and turned François away from Kenya.

"Would you like to join us for dinner?

"Oui, merci."

"Actually, I should say join me for dinner? She... You know. She doesn’t eat like us."

François chose to ignore Natalie’s jab; instead, he blurted, "Et voilà !" when they reached the small cottage.

I-I-I have to go, Kenya stuttered.

I’ll come with you, François offered.

Where I’m going...it’s not the right place for you, she replied, looking pointedly at his boots.

He followed her gaze, then squirmed.

It’s... It’s merely dust. My boots will be fine.

I beg to differ, Kenya countered. Stay here. I won’t be long.

It’s settled then. Kenya, you’ll handle your business in the swamp while François and I have dinner.

Kenya watched them retreat into the house before getting on her way.

She took the small path behind the cottage. The further she walked away from the house, the more unkempt and wilder the vegetation looked. There was tall grass for as far as the eye could see.

The unmaintained grounds made her think about the untidiness of her own hair. She hadn’t tended to her hair in a few days, and some knots had formed. Here she didn’t have the oils, powder, or any treatment she would typically use. The only person who could help her was Charity, but there was no way the woman would lend her a hand. Not only did Charity despise her for what she thought Kenya had done—being Jo’s murderer, but she also hated her because Damian had finally expressed his true feelings. He didn’t want to have anything to do with Charity. Before Kenya arrived at the Refuge, he had never made his position clear. Not anymore.

Kenya sighed.

She had felt she belonged again. She’d thought she had found the family she had lost and would start one of her own with Damian. How wrong she was!

Her pace slowed as the bottom of her dress became wetter. She had strolled farther than she’d ever done before. Kenya was about to turn around when she froze. The hair on the back of her head stood up. Someone was watching her. She could feel their eyes on her. She relaxed her shoulders. What was she afraid of? She was a predator, wasn’t she?

She knelt and pretended to busy herself, looking for a piece of wood. She casually turned around.

No one. There was nobody close by. The closest person in the vicinity was Natalie. Still, she felt uneasy. On her way back, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was still watching her.

But who?

When she reached the house, she sat on the bench right next to the entrance to clean her boots.

Natalie was in the kitchen, humming.

Sounds like you had a good time, Kenya noticed. Is François still here?

No, he left, Natalie replied as she approached the door with a plate and linen in hand. He couldn’t stay. Damian summoned him.

Kenya froze.

Damian was here?

Oh, no, no. Charity came to pass on the news. She had that smirk. Ugh. All I wanted was to wipe that arrogant smile off her face. Lately, I’ve had these dark feelings toward people. Toward her... toward you. I don’t understand.

Kenya put her cleaned boots in the closet by the door while Natalie finished wiping the plate.

After a long pause, she added. I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me earlier.

Kenya crossed the room and grabbed Natalie’s hands.

I will never do anything to jeopardize our friendship. You’re my only companion.

And you mine. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. I’ll work on my emotions, Natalie promised. Enough about me! You didn’t take long today. She looked around before asking. Did you leave the game outside? I’ll bring it to Martin, the new cook.

What happened to Johnson? Kenya inquired.

He left. He mentioned something about—

About what? Kenya pressed on.

—about dying.

I see, Kenya said. Hope they keep an eye on him. It would be a shame if something happened to him.

Don’t talk like that! Someone might hear you and believe you actually do have something to do with Jo’s death, Natalie chided her, looking over Kenya’s shoulder to make sure no one was around.

Why not? I’m a monster, after all. I gorge on blood. I can sneak around unnoticed, summon the undead and control elements.

Kenya got closer to Natalie with each word that fell from her lips. Her stride was similar to that of the wolves of the Great Plains.

But not today, Kenya continued, her eyes unfocused. "Today, I was distracted.

By what?

I don’t know.

Kenya noticed for the first time that Natalie’s back was pressed against the sink. The young woman wrapped her hands so firmly around the linen that her knuckles had turned white.

When Kenya tried to touch Natalie, she jerked her hand away.

Kenya flinched. She left and made her way to the back staircase without saying another word. She reached the top of the stairs, then turned right to get into her bedroom.

She had moved the furniture around. The big mahogany desk was no longer sitting in the living area, but on one side of the room, close to the chimney, whereas the bed with its four posts rested against the opposite wall. Two oil lamps sat on matching nightstands.

Her biggest issue was the massive wooden wardrobe. She has had to move it every morning to ward off the sun while she slept. Not that she had been able to sleep soundly lately anyway.

Kenya positioned herself against the furniture. Next, she started pushing. It took many attempts before it shifted even one inch.

Come on, she scolded herself.

She struggled a little longer before she was finally able to obstruct the whole window.

She wiped the sweat off her forehead. Undoubtedly, at this point, a good night’s sleep was necessary to regain some power. Kenya picked up her nightgown to get ready for the night.

2

Kizandjo

---

The sound of the tam-tam broke the deadly silence in the village. Kizandjo had changed. The town was not so pristine anymore. Piles of dirt accumulated close to the Goyero River. The houses had several missing wood boards and dried palm leaf roofs.

Hola, the future regent to the Kingdom of Oyuda, did not seem troubled by the disarray of the place. As usual, when Zainabu walked out, she found her younger sister playing a game of Oware, by herself, on the ground in front of their house.

I hate the sound of that tam-tam? she declared.

Hola kept quiet. She was used to hearing her sister complain by now. It had gotten worse ever since Kenya’s abduction.

Don’t sit in the dirt. You know Mom doesn’t like it.

When she saw she wouldn’t get any reaction from her sister, Zainabu continued with her grievance.

How can you sit outside anyway? It stinks! I wish Mom and Dad would pay attention to us, you know, the ones who are still here. Kenya is dead, we’re not—

She’s not dead, Hola interrupted her.

Oh, yeah! I forgot you were privy to some information, Zainabu snapped.

There was no point in aggravating her sister further, so Hola stayed silent. After a few minutes, she stood up and said, You are right. We should do something about that smell.

Zainabu and Hola headed for the Goyero River. They walked past their uncle Kapueo’s old house. His help, Afia, sat on the front stairs of the house, gnawing on a chew stick. They waved at her. The latter spat some fiber on the ground before waving back.

The biggest dirt pile rose to elbow height. It was crawling with flies and rodents.

This is disgusting. We can’t burn everything at once unless we want to set the whole place on fire. Let’s get some buckets to create a smaller pile over there, Zainabu pointed out.

Afia? Why are you still sitting when my daughters are doing all the work? queen Amina asked.

Yaya, I want to help, but I heard the tam-tam.

Hmm, Afia! It is only a reminder we have a couple hours left until the sun sets. Go help my daughters.

In a short time, Amina had gathered villagers to give them a hand with the humongous task. As always, when people had to do a job and get together, they’d start singing. The chant was slow and sad— that time, it was a dirge:

"Tomisée Tomisée ingulé samani Tomisée.

Tomisée inguelé samani Tomiséee.

Angouée Tomisé ngoua yampandi zél’anowé wée Tomisé."

Stop it! Stop it right now! Amina shouted. My baby is not dead. My husband will bring her back.

Pity. That was what Amina read on everybody’s face. Afia, who stood next to her, looked away, embarrassed.

You don’t believe me? Amina continued, as her eyes welled with tears.

Mum, let’s go! Hola said while pulling on one of her hands. Only when Zainabu took her other hand, did Amina finally agree to be escorted back to their house.

They sat her by the dining room table. Zainabu scrutinized her closely for the very first time. Her hair was disheveled. Not because of the lovemaking she and her dad were having every afternoon, but rather from neglect. Their mother abandoned the use of scarves, since the secret about her dad’s condition was out. Zainabu spotted some redness and marks on her neck. As if she could feel her middle child’s eyes on her, Amina asked her youngest.

Hola, go grab my scarf. It’s on my bed.

When Amina couldn’t hear Hola’s receding footsteps anymore, she turned toward Zainabu.

How have you been, my child?

The question took Zainabu by surprise.

So-so. I can’t sleep at night because of the heat and all the mosquitoes. But then during the day, the flies are everywhere. And that smell—it stinks... And I hate what is happening. And I hate that we can’t see dad as often anymore. And—

As she was about to carry on with her tirade, they heard the tam-tam.

And I hate this sound. Why can’t everything be like before? Zainabu said, fuming.

Dad should just go back to the oracle to find Kenya.

It’s not that simple, Amina replied.

Why not?

Amina kept mum. Hola came back at that very moment, unaware she would soon be the subject of Zainabu’s wrath.

I couldn’t find your scarf, so I took my wrap. It’s clean. Zainabu helped me wash it, Hola indicated. She turned around to smile at her older sister and saw the look on her face.

Why does she get to be the next regent anyway? I am older than her. My initiation is in a few weeks—

Is it? Amina asked.

Yeeees, Zainabu answered, exasperated.

I’ll have to talk to your father about that. Since—since you know the ceremony takes place at night. It might not be safe, Amina retorted, while standing up.

Zainabu bit her tongue. There was no point in fighting with her mom at this moment. After what had happened to Kenya, their mother had been keeping them on a short leash.

I need to get dinner ready.

No, let me handle it, Zainabu offered. She pushed her mother back down on the chair.

Hola grabbed some seeds and resumed playing her Oware game, at the table this time, whereas Zainabu made her way to the new extension of the house: the outdoor kitchen.

The small