To say I was shocked after finding out Baba was a trusted member of The Fellowship would be an understatement. I had never experienced so many emotions in a few seconds before. I went from flabbergasted to angry to sad and back to flabbergasted, sending my body into shock, leaving me standing still with my eyes as wide as soccer balls and my mouth ajar.

Did Mama know?

What about my older brothers?

The next thing I remembered happening was Mr. Simon saying, "I'll tell you more tonight," before he left to go speak with other sorcerers while I teleported back to my house.

Whenever my body went into shock, it either chose flight and took me home, or unfroze a few seconds later, allowing me to fight. It all depended on the situation. Since this was more of a mental battle than a physical one, the better place for me to deal with it was at home, where nobody would see me.

I spent the rest of the day sleeping, not wanting to think of the things Baba might've done as a trusted member of The Fellowship. For an evil organization to trust you, you have to be a piece of shit like them or a bigger one.

Later that night, Preacher Boy and Zainab picked me up from my house in the former's car. Anthony was hosting a dinner party for sorcerers, wanting to pay respect to those we lost in the past year and celebrate the ones alive.

"You look good, Binti," Preacher Boy said after I entered the car, taking the backseat. He wore a purple suit and white tie. His afro looked neat, though I couldn't believe he still had the comb in it—you'd think he was born with it. No matter how many times I told him to leave it at home or I'd throw it away, he refused to listen. Maybe it had sentimental value. I just didn't care enough to ask him.

"Thank you. You don't look bad yourself," I replied.

"Thanks." He smiled.

"You look good too, Zainab," I added, trying to be friendly. She wore a long red dress and a tiara over her white hijab, looking like Tiana from The Princess and the Frog. I understood why Preacher Boy simped for her—she was breathtaking when she shut her mouth.

"Thank you," Zainab replied, taking me by surprise. "You look good too."

"Thank you." It seemed I made the right decision to wear a white tuxedo and a black bow tie.

"I'm so happy to see you two getting along," Preacher Boy said.

"Shut up!" Zainab and I said in unison before glancing at each other and laughing. It felt good not being at odds. If there was a time for us to be on good terms, then it was tonight. I didn't want our rivalry to ruin the party.

Preacher Boy turned on the engine and drove away.

We arrived at Mlimani City Mall—where the party was held—within an hour.

Zainab and I got out of the car while Preacher Boy went to park it. The two of us stood quietly as we waited for him to return. It was odd. I was used to us throwing shots at each other. Silence made me want to cut off my ears and gouge out my eyes.

It wasn't normal.

It wasn't us.

Having gotten used to seeing her as an enemy, my stomach wrenched into knots because I didn't have to tonight.

"This sucks," Zainab said.

"A lot," I replied.

"We're better off hating each other."

"Definitely."

"We should go back to that."

"Agreed."

She turned to me, observing me from head to toe. "You're dressed like a waiter."

"And you look like the Evil Queen from Snow White."

She put her hand on her chest. "Aw, but she's cute."

"Not in the mirror."

She frowned, making me cackle. "I was trying to look like Tiana."

"Tiana Trump, the pornstar?" I raised my brow.

Her nose flared. With gritted teeth, she said, "No. I meant Tiana, the Disney Princess."

"Oh." I smiled. "You should've said that from the start."

"I hate you." She turned away from me and crossed her arms.

I smiled.

This was better.

It felt like us.

We didn't need to pretend to like each other to work together. Who knew trying to change something wasn't always the solution? Dissing each other may have been a sign of mutual respect. Mostly on her part, of course. I was her and Preacher Boy's sensei, so she probably saw me as her idol and wanted to be me. You know, normal stuff.

When Preacher Boy came from parking the car, we went to the conference center. The large room had tables of four and five on the left and right, with a narrow path between them leading to a stage where an all-female band was playing a low tune.

A male server in a white shirt and black pants approached us. "Right this way," he said before taking us to a table in the right corner, closer to the band and far from everyone else.

It was almost as if they were trying to keep us—Me—away from interacting with other sorcerers. I didn't blame them. A lot of attendees tonight had a problem with me for reasons out of my control.

As a self-proclaimed "best occult detective in the world", I had amassed a lot of haters over the years. Jealous peers always popped up trying to "put me in my place" only for them to end up with a broken face and bruised ego.

When we sat down, the server asked us what we'd like to drink, noted it down, then left. Preacher Boy and Zainab began talking about David's death and the implications it would have in our city. Nothing would change. Previous members of The Supreme Leaders would have turned this country upside down to find the killer. But the current regime had turned to the dark side, so this would pass over time and something new would occupy the sorcerer community.

Glancing around, I spotted Anthony entering the room speaking to a short, bald man with a big belly. As his nickname stated, Handsome Sorcerer, Anthony was a beautiful man. Too beautiful, I'd say. His short, dark hair, well-trimmed beard, and pearly-white smile made him look like a model from the women's magazines. His six-foot-six frame was a bonus—an irresistible bonus.

Anthony and the bald man chatted until they reached the middle of the room where they parted ways, with Anthony heading in our direction.

"Juma, Zainab, nice to see you again," he said after arriving. Then he turned to me. "Binti, glad to see you here."

I crossed my arms. "You thought I wouldn't show up?"

"Yes."

I gasped, uncrossing my arms and placing my hand on my chest. "Is my reputation for accepting invites that–"

"Yes!" the three travelers said in unison.

I stayed silent, my mouth ajar at the audacity of them to say that with so much confidence. Didn't they know who I was? Binti Nasra, The First of Her Name, Voodoo Queen, Someday Master of Moon Magic, funny, talented, and definitely, and I meant this with all my heart, a nice person who had conned no one, nor said a bad thing about anybody. Ever.

"You guys are hopeless." I rolled my eyes while the three laughed. If there was a time I wanted to punch their faces, it was at that moment. My knuckles itched with anticipation, begging my brain to allow my fist to knock them repeatedly like punching bags. Pow! Pow! Pow! And I'd be happy for the rest of the night.

Anthony sat next to me. "I heard about the necromancer. Do you need help?"

"Do you think I need help?" I raised my brow.

Anthony looked at Preacher Boy, who shook his head repeatedly, then back at me. "There's a first time for everything."

"This isn't it."

"Good. We need moon magic in Africa."

"We?"

"African sorcerers. You may not admit it, but your feats are known throughout the continent. I'd even say the world. Binti Nasra: Voodoo Queen, and Lucifer's mistress."

Preacher Boy and Zainab choked on their saliva, then coughed while rubbing their necks.

I clenched my hands. "Excuse me?"

Anthony raised his hands. "I didn't mean to offend you. Let me explain myself."

"I'm listening." I respected him a lot to hear him out and not react to his disrespect.

"There has been speculation about you and Lucifer being an item for years. Otherwise, why had he granted you moon magic? It had never happened before. There has to be a reason for it. Africa had its turn. A sorcerer from Europe or North America was supposed to get it. Instead, you did. Why?"

I bit my lower lip. It was a good question. Why? It seemed more than Lucifer wanting me to help him take over Heaven's throne. He could've done that with another sorcerer. So, why me? What was so special about me? Surely, it wasn't my voodoo magic. If so, he would have found better candidates in other nations, like Haiti, with their Mambo warriors.

"I don't know," I said. It was the truth. My sixth sense tingled, making me turn my attention away from Anthony and to someone beside him. "Hello, Uncle."

"Hello again, Binti," Mr. Simon said, appearing beside Anthony. Invisibility was his third and final magic ability, making him a dangerous opponent if you were to fight him. Only powerful sorcerers could sense him. "Hello everyone." He nodded at the others.

"Hello, Uncle," the others replied.

Mr. Simon sat down.

"You said you'd tell me more," I told him.

"Do the others know?" he asked.

"Know about what?" Anthony said.

"The Fellowship," I said.

"What's that?"

"I think it's Lord of the Rings," Preacher Boy said.

"It's not, idiot," I replied.

Then I told the three travelers about adrenochrome, The Fellowship, and how they killed Baba, leaving out the part where he was also a member. That was all they needed to know. Everything concerning The Supreme Leaders and the crows was a problem for another time. With David's death, Dar Es Salaam sorcerers needed to be united for now. But after I beat Esther, then all hell broke loose.

"I'm so sorry, Binti," Preacher Boy said.

"Same," Zainab added.

"Thank you," I replied.

"When did you find out?" Anthony asked.

"Recently." I chuckled. "It was the necromancer who told me."

"And that's why I wanted all of you here tonight," Mr. Simon said. "I want us to verify for ourselves. What if the necromancer lied?"

Even though I still needed to know more about Baba's role in The Fellowship, Mr. Simon was right. Without proof, I couldn't just go on Esther's word. She had proven to be a high-caliber manipulator. "What do you suggest?"

"I want us to go back to the moment your father died and see who did it," he said.

I gulped. What an ask of the travelers.

Time travel was something not to be messed with. Change even a small thing, and you'd find yourself stuck in an alternate timeline with no way to return to your original one. You had to be invisible when moving across timelines, and no one knew that better than travelers. Still, my gut twisted with excitement at the chance of learning the truth.

"When do you want us to go?" I asked.

"Now."