The next day at work, I didn't find a case that interested me. I had a lot on my mind—The Supreme Leaders, The Fellowship, and what the crows told me—and trying to come up with a plan on how to deal with Esther's potential bag of tricks proved more challenging than I would've liked to admit. So I sought the advice of someone I knew had encountered a necromancer or two in her lifetime.

"What do you suggest?" I asked Aisha, sitting on the chair opposite her desk, holding a bottle of water.

Aisha exhaled deeply, having listened to me for the past thirty minutes. She hadn't interrupted me once, not even when I told her about The Supreme Leaders being in cahoots with the government, turning opposition politicians into crows. She just nodded and gasped at every twist the information took.

I drummed my fingers on her desk and chewed my bottom lip. She had never been this silent with me, always having a snarky remark when she had no opinion. Was she scared? She didn't look like it. But I wouldn't blame her if she was. Esther was strong, but the only ones who could tie her tongue like this were The Supreme Leaders. Their influence spread all over Africa. If they were doing this shit in Tanzania, then it was likely the other sorcerer-governing bodies in Africa were doing it too. But why would they abandon their values and principles?

"Let's worry about The Supreme Leaders after you defeat Esther, Boss," Aisha said. The soft look in her eyes told me she didn't want to think about it ever again. It made sense. The Supreme Leaders were powerful. They could kill her and make her death look like an accident. And no one, not even the best occult detectives in the world, would prove otherwise.

"Alright." James and the other crows would have to wait. "Do you have a suggestion on how I can beat Esther?"

"Necromancers deal with life and death. When you understand that, then you realize how narrow—limited, I should say—their magic is."

"Using corpses as their personal army is what you call limited?" I raised my brow.

Aisha chuckled. "Point made." She took a sip from the mug full of blood between her hands, delivered to her in the early morning hours by night shift nurses from various hospitals and clinics. "You should ask Mawu. She has seen it all. I'm sure she has an answer."

"You might be right." I doubted it. Mawu was an ass. When she taught me new magic abilities, she had an order of doing things. Such a perfectionist. I had to do what she said, or she'd lose her mind. I never expected a Goddess to have OCD.

"Have you heard from Preacher Boy?"

I nodded. "He and Zainab came to my house after saving The Locals. I healed them before giving him a week off."

"He needs it."

"I won't argue that." We all needed a break. I wanted to go on vacation: Bora Bora had my name written on it.

"I can't believe you sent him to that house. Even I'm scared to go there."

"He had Zainab with him. They had a better chance at saving them than me."

Aisha took a sip from her mug. "You're right."

"Of course I am." I stood and threw the empty bottle towards the recycle bin in the corner. "Kobe!" It entered, and I thrust my fist in the air. "I still got it."

"You played basketball once in high school. You never had it."

I rolled my eyes. "That's one time too many."

"If you say so." She gulped down the rest of her drink before placing the mug on the desk, next to the jug full of blood.

"I'm going to my office. Call me when the world ends."

"Sure thing, Boss."

I entered my office and closed the door behind me. Sitting on my chair, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Though I wasn't in the mood to do anything, I needed to keep my mind away from Esther and The Supreme Leaders. I didn't know where the former was, so I'd have to wait for her to make the next move. And I had promised Aisha I wouldn't do anything about the latter until I dealt with the necromancer.

Before I opened my laptop and looked for a case to solve, the telephone on my desk rang. "The world has already ended?" I answered.

"No. Mama Joni's here," Aisha said.

I sat up straight. I never thought I'd hear from the woman again. And honestly, I didn't want to. Her painful cries after learning of Joni's death still haunted me. No mother should ever go through that much pain.

"What–What does she want?"

"She wants to speak to you."

I gulped, not in the mood for this. I had dealt with clients who thought I could've done more to help them, and came to me a few days later to give me a verbal lashing as a way of dealing with their grief. If Mama Joni wanted to scream at me, then it was the least I could do for her.

"Let her in," I said.

A knock came on my door a few seconds later.

"Come in."

Mama Joni entered with a smile on her face, giving off a positive energy that left me sitting still with widened eyes and an open mouth. This was far from what I expected. Joni had been dead for less than a week. Where were the bags under her eyes and the tears? Where were her frown and sniffles? Why hadn't she worn large, dirty clothes that showed her depressed state?

I cleared my throat. "Mama Joni, welcome." Standing up, I pointed to the empty chair in front of me. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you," she said before sitting down.

I sat down and got a closer look at her; she seemed healthier too. The woman I met a few days ago, and the one in front of me, couldn't be the same person. It just couldn't be. No way had she moved on this quickly after losing her son. And yet, here she was. A smile on her face; a twinkle in her eyes; and... was that make-up she wore? Wow.

"What can I do for you, Mama Joni?" I expected her to ask if I could resurrect Joni even after I told her it wasn't possible, unless she wanted something sinister possessing her son's dead body.

Mama Joni reached inside her handbag and took out an envelope. "Here." She handed it to me.

I opened it and saw fifty thousand shillings. Glancing between her and the envelope with furrowed brows, I said, "I don't understand." I lied. It was payment for my services. When I left her home, I hadn't asked to be paid because I felt at fault for Joni's death. Esther had used him to get to me.

"I forgot to pay you," she said.

Had she lost her mind? Maybe she was caught in a fictional world where her son existed? What would happen if I broke her fantasy? "But Joni's–"

"Joni's alive."

Oh, no. She had lost it. Poor woman. I may not have understood how it felt like losing a child, but losing someone close to us was a shared human experience. And if you didn't deal with it properly, it could corrupt your reality.

"He's not Mama Joni. Joni died, remember."

"Yes, I remember. But–"

There was a but? Oh, no. I didn't like the sound of this.

"–your partner came to my house after you and Pastor Hans left, saying you sent her to help me."

That word again: partner.

Fuck.

"You're talking about a brown-skinned Asian woman, right?"

"Yes. Her name was..." She glanced at the ceiling, tapping her nose, seeming to be in deep thought.

"Esther."

"Yes, Esther." Mama Joni smiled.

Double fuck. What was the necromancer up to now?

Mama Joni continued. "Esther said Joni wasn't dead, and that he was only asleep. She asked for forgiveness on your behalf, saying you were tired and weren't able to see through the illusion. That's why you thought he was dead."

Bitterness filled my mouth. Esther was out here making me look like an amateur. Tiredness had never affected my ability to do my job. Never. If Mama Joni blabbed to other people, then slowly other clients would start doubting me.

Was this what Esther wanted? For me to lose the trust of my clients and respect of other occult detectives before she tried killing me? I would laugh, but I wasn't in the mood. This told me she had done little research on me. If she did, then she would've known I didn't give a fuck about what other people thought or said about me.

"What did she do to wake him up?" I asked.

"She shook his body, and Joni woke up."

It couldn't be that easy. Joni was dead; I was sure of it. She must've made a vana possess his corpse. But why? Joni was just a kid. She'd gain nothing from using him. Would she? There was more here. What wasn't I seeing?

"What happened next?"

"I wanted to pay you yesterday, but Esther insisted it had to be today. She said she'd be spending time with you, so I shouldn't interfere."

"I see." Esther was ten steps ahead of me. Damn. I needed to pick up the pace fast.

"Also, she told me to give you this." Mama Joni took out a note from her handbag, similar to the one I found above the pile of ash yesterday, and gave it to me.

"Is that all?" I asked, waiting to read the note after the woman left.

"Yes."

"Well, I'm glad you got Joni back." I lied. A magicless person like Mama Joni wouldn't be able to tell her son wasn't alive. The inability to see past illusions was a blessing and curse to people like her. It kept them away from the true horrors of the world, but it made them unable to detect the danger surrounding them, leaving them completely vulnerable.

She smiled. "Me too. When you see Esther, thank her for me. I don't know where I would've been if she hadn't brought Joni back to life."

I stood. "Well, best of luck to you." I meant it.

"Thank you."

We shook hands before she left.

When the door closed behind her, I sat down, my face aching from fake-smiling the whole time. Opening the note, it read: Who will you be: the cat or the mouse? Choose wisely, Binti Nasra. Love, E.

I crumpled the paper and smiled. Only weak people thought they had two options. The real world came with many possibilities. And since Esther presented a cat or mouse choice, I decided to be the rabid dog.