Karabo reached the hut and stepped aside to allow Jez to stand next to her.

‘Ma, this is Jessabelle…’ said Karabo.

‘Hmpf, I know who she is. The sea rat’s mother. I also know what she is,’ said the sangoma looking Jessabelle up and down. Karabo turned to watch Jez’s response, but to her surprise, Jez was not put out. She merely stood her ground and smiled at the sangoma.

‘But she is different. Better than expected,’ grumbled the sangoma, still looking at Jez.

‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ said Jez in response.

Karabo sighed. Maybe this was a very bad idea, she thought, gripping her papers even more tightly in her hand, ‘Shall we go inside then?’ asked Karabo, hoping that this entire meeting wasn’t going to be a complete disaster and waste of time.

The hut was cold. There was normally a burning fire in the centre of the rondavel, but today there was nothing. The air only smelt faintly of wood smoke and as Karabo carefully looked around her, the hut seemed more bare than usual.

‘Have you moved out of this hut, ma?’ Karabo asked.

The sangoma’s mouth drew up to one side in a lopsided smile, ‘You are observant my child. This is good. I have moved some things,’ she said, leading them to the centre of the hut. As she crouched down over the fireplace — a crude circle made of stones and sand — she pulled out a box of matches and lit the small pile of kindling. ‘When I saw you bringing her, I moved some items,’ explained the sangoma.

‘You saw Jez coming here and moved stuff? That was quick, it took us barely five minutes to walk down the hill,’ Karabo said, wondering if the sangoma was stashing her stuff at the back of the hut.

The sangoma clicked her tongue at Karabo. ‘Now you are stupid. I was told many days ago that she would come. She is like us Karabo…’ said the sangoma, watching Jez carefully through small, eyes.

Karabo saw Jez raise her eyebrows but remain quiet. ‘What do you mean, ma?’ asked Karabo frowning.

‘She has “the power”– the power to connect to ancestors, to interpret. It is underdeveloped because she has no training…this is dangerous,’ said the sangoma, speaking slowly.

Karabo looked at Jez, wanting her to say the sangoma was just freaking out and that she was simply William’s mother.

‘She’s right,’ said Jez. ‘What?’ shrieked Karabo.

Jez sighed and began to pace around the fire. ‘My mother’s mother was gifted, but because the royal family was exiled to Algeria and then France, Marie-Louise was unable to train with the traditional healers of Madagascar. The older women from Madagascar — their servants — knew some of the ways and tried to teach her. As she got older, she began to harness her abilities and eventually became a nurse in the war. She was born to heal,’ explained Jez, circling the fire, Karabo and the sangoma.

‘I’ve always felt that I’m able to engage with more than just this dimension. But I don’t have a teacher,’ said Jez, before stopping and looking squarely at the sangoma, almost breathless because she had been pacing in a circle at such speed. The sangoma looked back at Jez and spat at the floor.

‘You…you want me to be your teacher,’ she hissed.

‘Why not?’ asked Jez. The two women glared at each other in an electrified and tense atmosphere; Karabo felt like she wasn’t even there.

The sangoma stood up from the small crackling fire and paced the hut, rubbing her hairy chin. Eventually, she picked up a handful of imphepho. As she burnt the dried herbs, she prepared for what was to appear. Speaking in riddles as the smoke enveloped her face, the sangoma continued to pace. Karabo sat on the cool floor close to the fire, letting it warm her chest and face. She closed her eyes and began to rock slightly, backwards and forward, opening her mind and allowing her ancestors to speak to her. Jez sat down opposite Karabo. She too closed her eyes and waited. The thick pungent smoke filled their lungs.

Had she fallen asleep? Karabo tried to open her sticky eyelids. She could hear Jez calling her and coming into view.

‘It’s time to go Karabo,’ she said, sounding like she was talking to her through a tunnel stuffed with cotton wool. Karabo nodded and slowly pushed herself up.