“That IS a shame. Of course, I don't have any problem with Penda getting into such trouble.”
“Really?” Yolanda stared at him, wide eyed, for all the world as if she had never heard him say this before. “What DO you do?”
“Why, nothing,” Asumini said, surprised, picking up her cue. “Penda is just that way. She never gets into any trouble.”
Their pride was promptly torn to shreds as Penda, unable to catch Akase’s tail, promptly seized the tail of a sleeping Taka and gave it a gleeful squeeze.
“Yeow!” His brilliant green eyes flew open and he leapt into the air, twisting lithely to come down facing her. Delighted, she gave a gurgling laugh and wrapped her tiny arms around his furry neck. “Taga!” The poor cub gasped uncomfortably for air and writhed with embarrassment under the amused stares of the adults. Finally detaching himself, he shook himself off and trotted off with an air of injured dignity.
Several weeks later, Rafiki returned home thoroughly worn out from his harvesting efforts; he had been required to make a trek of several miles to gather Alba for his depleted stock. The rare flower was precious, and was increasingly hard to come by. Lately he had discovered a fresh patch in a relatively nearby forest, but it required a whole day’s trip to get there and return. Still it was preferable to trying to trade with his brethren for the precious flower; the asking price for the herbs climbed higher with each purchase.
Entering his cool, shady home, he was greeted by a rather drawn looking Asumini. “Hello, husband.”
“What’s wrong?” He embraced her, then held her at arm’s length. “Gods! You’re burning up!”
She smiled thinly. “Well, I do feel tired...”
“I cannot imagine why.” He led her to their soft bed of leaves and lay her down gently. Quickly mixing a broth with some water and a few select herbs, he held the bowl while she drained it slowly. “Relax, beloved.”
“But your work....”
“My work can wait. You are what matters to me, not staring at this old face in a bowl of water.”
She reached up and stroked his cheek with a finger. “Only old on the surface, love.” Closing her eyes, she drifted off into an uneven sleep.
Rafiki worked frantically over the next several hours to try to break the fever which was burning her up from within. He wished desperately that Makedde would return, but the old mandrill was attending a special meeting of the Council and probably would not be back for some time. Rafiki had only himself, and the comforting presence of his daughter. He hugged Penda to his chest as he sat beside Asumini’s bedside, watching helplessly as she thrashed and moaned in the grip of the sickness.
In the early hours of the morning, her temperature soared to new heights, and Rafiki began to feel the teeth of panic nibbling at his mind. How much more can she stand? he thought. Her skin was burning hot to the touch, and she shifted and shook in the grip of chills. Time and again he knelt and forced a few swallows of water down her throat to ward off dehydration.
The sun had risen, and the day was clear and beautiful, but he paid it no heed as he kept up his vigil. Penda had long since tired and was sleeping comfortably on her father’s lap. Rafiki peered at her blearily through reddened eyes, and smiled at the contented look on her face. Sitting up carefully, he laid her gently by her mother’s side and made his way across the tree to where he stored his medicines. Pulling out a half full gourd of water and some powdered extracts, he set them carefully on a limb beside him. Turning to it, he stood for a moment, staring at the medicine vapidly, then suddenly sat, the impact jarring his spine and making his teeth click together painfully. He leaned against the bole of the baobab, his eyes closing of their own volition. Just a moment, and then he would get up and mix the extracts and give them to Asumini. Just a moment...
He opened his eyes slowly and peered about, confused. Sitting up, he groaned as the muscles of his back voiced their protest in a symphony of pain. Rubbing his eyes, he stared, blinking, at the bowl on the limb before him.
It sat there, quietly, minding its own business. The sun shone in, its reddish glow silhouetting the bowl’s shadow against the tree trunk....
His eyes snapped open and he stared in horror. The sun was blood red, sitting low in the western sky, oh gods, he had fallen asleep for HOURS!
“Asumini?” Rafiki hurried down and across the tree, swinging under a low branch to find his mate’s bed lying empty. Penda’s absence was also felt; the child was nowhere in sight. Rafiki made a quick scan of the tree, followed by one of the ground below. Nothing.
He spun, intending to descend the trunk to the ground below, but froze. His eyes bulged and his mouth opened and closed silently as he stared at the paintings across from him on his shrine. Asumini and Penda were both depicted there, lovingly drawn by his own hand. What he had not drawn was the Eye of Aiheu which now lay emblazoned on the wood over their heads.
“Oh God, no! NO!” He ran over and scrubbed furiously at the wood, but the marks neither smeared nor stained his hand. They lay ingrained deep in the wood, mutely expressing something which his mind cried out against over and over.
Turning, he scrambled down the trunk of the baobab and cast about frantically in the tall grass for some sign of their passage. Finding a depression in the grass, he saw a rough trail of broken stalks heading away from the baobab. He sprinted off down the track, unmindful of the pain in his knees, kicking up dirt as he ran. “ASUMINI! PENDA! Please Gods, let them hear me.”
He skidded to a stop, nearly falling as he saw the grass thrashing ahead. A tawny head emerged and turned to look at him. “Rafiki?”
“Ahadi! Thank the gods!” The mandrill ran to him, panting. “My wife is ill with fever; I fear she has wandered off and taken Penda with her.”
Ahadi’s started. “How long has she been gone?”
“I don't know. I fell asleep like an old fool, and when I woke up, she had vanished. It could be several hours; I don't know.”
Ahadi eyed his friend; the exhaustion on Rafiki’s face was plain to see. “You just drove yourself past your limit. I’ll help you find her.”
Rafiki slumped, quivering. “Thank you, Sire. Do you think you can track her scent?”
“There’s no need for that. I can see her trail clear enough.” Ahadi’s eyes narrowed as he eyed the grass. “The trail is fairly fresh; I would say not more than an hour old.” Turning, he made off at a rapid pace, just slow enough that Rafiki could keep up. The grass began to thin out, replaced by thicker greenery. Small bushes and shrubs dominated the ground ahead, and Rafiki heard faintly the gurgling sound of running water. Ahead, Ahadi slowed and began to push his way through the dense underbrush. Thorns and branches tore at his beautiful mane, snatching away tufts of hair in painful tugs, but these he ignored, bulling his way through. As they reached the water’s edge, he suddenly halted. Rafiki nearly collided with his haunches, which filled the gap in the brush and blocked his view of the water. He heard a gasp from the lion and hopped about, trying to peer over his bulk. “What is it?”
“Great Aiheu,” he heard Ahadi stammer. “Oh gods! Oh gods!”
“What?!” Rafiki shouted. He began to force his way in between Ahadi’s massive shoulder and the thorns, but the Lion King shifted and blocked him off. Ahadi turned himself around carefully and sat in the gap.
He took a shaky breath and looked at Rafiki unsteadily. “Do not go in there, my friend. There’s nothing you can do.” The lion looked away and blinked rapidly. “Her fever must have driven her down here to bathe in the cool river water."
“Is she dead? Where’s Penda?”