No one moves. After a while Socca clears his throat.

“Ah…maybe you want to think about it before you make a decision,” he says.

“I’ve made a decision. Phone.” I’m still holding out my hand, and it’s starting to hurt.

“I have no loyalty to that girl, Rainmaker or not,” says Sam. “But if you turn her in she’ll be locked up.”

“That’s out of my hands.” Speaking of hands, I lower mine. Looks like no one’s interested in following my orders anymore.

“You know what they’ll do to her,” says Ranger. “If they think she’s lying they’ll charge her with treason.”

“They’ll give her a fair trial.”

He snorts. “You know better than that.”

I squirm in my sneakers. If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that the people don’t like surprises. They don’t like the unusual. If they would kill me, their prince, for messing with tradition, they’d have no problem killing some orphan from Desert. I don’t want anyone to die. Avoiding unnecessary death was the whole point of this mission. But I can’t break the rules.

Running away was one thing, but hiding Dudu from the Council would be worse. Either way, someone’s in trouble. I don’t think it’s selfish to do my best to make sure that person isn’t me. That’s just the human survival instinct. It’s easy for Socca and Sam to talk big; they’re not the ones in this mess. If they were, they’d want to turn her in, too.

“You have to protect her, Taunyana,” says Ranger.

“She seems harmless,” says Socca.

“I don’t know about harmless.” Sam glances at the window. “She’s an illegal Rainmaker and she’s a little wacky. But look at her! She won’t last a second in a Delta borstal.”

You know, I’m kind of offended that no one in this room seems to care about protecting me. I’m the prince. Seed of the tree, and all that. Besides, these people are supposed to be my friends. It’s not like I want to send the girl to her death. If I could think of a way to save us both…but I can’t.

“I’m sorry. I don’t have a choice.” I sigh. “Now will someone give me a phone?”

Ranger steps forward. “Please don’t do this.”

“Sorry.”

“You have the power to save her life! What more do you want?”

The door opens and I move out of the way as Dudu enters. She’s bedraggled and pathetic-looking. I look at the others, and I can see the pity scrawled on their treacherous faces. Then they look at me like they’ve caught me kicking a starving puppy, and I finally lose my patience.

“Stop it!” I yell. “Stop looking at me like that and think. You’re asking me to betray my family and my kingdom to protect a girl I don’t even know. For all I know, she’s a witch or a thief!”

“I’m not, Taunyana, I swear on my parents’ graves,” she blurts out from behind me. “I don’t know how this happened!”

“Maybe.” I look at Ranger. “But he does. He probably knows exactly how this happened, and the right thing for him to do would be to take us all back to the Council and explain everything.”

Ranger frowns. “This is not a simple matter.”

“But you can help us understand, Rra. Before I decide to risk my life for this girl, I need to know what’s going on. Everything. I need to know as much as you know.”

“Blackmail is beneath you,” Ranger whispers.

“It’s not blackmail. I have a right to know! The coronation is close. How can I rule the kingdom if I don’t even know what’s happening in it?”

Ranger is quiet for a while. He’s a big fan of long silences, and I can tell he’s weighing the options. I don’t know what he has to lose by being honest. If he had done that in the first place, things might be a lot less complicated.

“You’re right. You deserve to know. Sit down.”

We sit. I sense that the others are just as relieved as I am. Maybe now we can make some progress and find a way to solve this problem.

“You know the stories of the first days,” he begins. “Before Kgosis. Before the Rain Stick. But you only know part of the stories. Before the time of the Kgosis, there was no government. No ruler. Each family governed itself. The people of the land were nomads. When the land was dry they moved north to Delta, and when the heavy rains came they moved south to Desert. The world was different in those days. The people were different. The animals were different, too. Bigger. More savage. Over time the rain became more unpredictable. It rained too little in Delta and too much in Desert. The rains came at different times, and sometimes the people and animals were unprepared. Then, one season, the rains came very early. Delta flooded, killing more than half the people and animals.

“Today’s children know the story of this terrible time, but what they don’t know is why it happened. It was not chance. The ancestors were fighting, and their war made the weather change at a moment’s notice. It was this war that caused the tragedy. In fact the tragedy could have been far worse if not for a water spirit who stole the rainmaking power while the ancestors bickered amongst themselves. She bound the power inside the Rain Stick, stopping the rain before it covered the whole land.

“When the ancestors found out, they were relieved. They realised how foolish they had been, and how their argument had almost destroyed the land they loved. They agreed that the rainmaking power should no longer remain in their hands, but should be handed down to the people with strict instructions on how to use it. They decided the land must have a ruler, someone to take responsibility for protecting the land and the Stick. To warn the people that this great change was coming, the ancestors sent three signs.

“The first sign was a vision. The strongest and most powerful man in the land fell into a deep sleep and dreamed of a cracked pot that sang a song in a language he couldn’t understand.”

Sam lets out a loud snort of laughter. We all turn to glare at her.

“Sorry,” she mutters. “It’s just…a singing pot? Really?”

Ranger’s only answer is a long, stern look. Sam shrugs and covers her mouth with one hand, but I can still see her smile.

“The vision haunted the man for weeks until he sought the advice of a healer and learned its meaning,” Ranger continues. “Once he knew what it meant, he shared the news with the people and they waited for the next sign. The second sign was the Rainmaker. A fearless youth discovered that he had the power to darken the skies with rainclouds. He couldn’t make it rain, not yet, but his power was great enough to frighten the people. The third and final sign was the desert dog, a strange animal that appeared in Desert and fled at the first rumble of thunder. No one had seen such an animal before. After the three signs, the first Rainmaker went into the wilderness by himself to gather his thoughts. He was frightened of his mysterious new power and couldn’t understand why the gift wasn’t given to someone older and wiser. While wandering he found a long knobkerrie, beautifully carved from fine wood. It was the Stick, and as soon as he held it he felt power move inside him. Terrified, he returned to his people to show them.

“The wise men of the tribe communed with the ancestors and learned, through a series of visions, how to use the Stick. Then, according to the will of the ancestors, the young Rainmaker was made the first Kgosi and the new era began. The desert dogs vanished and were never seen again.”

“Until now,” I whisper.

Ranger nods. “Until now. The three signs have come, young prince, to warn us that once again a new age is beginning. A new age with a new Rainmaker, and a new way of life.”

“But there have only been two signs,” says Sam. “The new Rainmaker and the dog. There was no vision.”

“How do you know?” asked Ranger.

“Something like that would have made the tabloids for sure,” she replies. “There’s always stuff like that in the news.”

Socca nods. “As soon as the person who had the vision found out what it meant, he would have reported it to the Council. Lion people don’t keep things like that to themselves.”

“On second thought, maybe the person didn’t report it,” says Sam. “Maybe he hasn’t told anyone, and has no idea what the dream means. People have funny dreams all the time; he probably just forgot about it.”

We all turn to give her sceptical looks. She doesn’t get it. Ancestor dreams are not the sort you forget. I’ve never had one, but all Lion people know. Dreams from the ancestors can haunt you until you’re too afraid to sleep, or until all you want to do is sleep, depending on how the dream makes you feel. One of my mother’s relatives had a dream like that, long before I was born. It predicted a tragedy in their family. The man was an alcoholic, always talking nonsense, so no one believed him. He became so obsessed with the dream that he ran off and was found wandering the streets in another town, filthy, starving and unable to speak. A week later seven members of the family died in a bus accident.

Ranger shakes his head. “Ancestor dreams are not like other dreams,” he explains patiently. “The dream will keep coming until the person understands, or wastes away.”

“But how will we find the dreamer?” I ask. “He could be anywhere.”

“Or she,” says Sam, with a pointed look in Dudu’s direction.

Dudu’s eyes widen. “I didn’t have any visions! I would have said something!”

“Someone had the vision,” says Ranger. “I don’t know who, but it must have happened, otherwise we wouldn’t have seen the dog and Dudu would not have discovered her gift. The question is, Taunyana, now that you know the story, what are you going to do?”

Everyone turns to look at me. I take my time responding.

“If we are really entering a new age, the Council has to be told. They are the ones who carry the knowledge of the tribe. We have to go back and tell them everything. They’ll know what to do. They’ll advise me.”

Ranger looks uneasy, and Dudu just stares at the floor. Sam and Socca seem to approve of my approach, for a change. No one’s accusing me of trying to get anyone killed. That’s progress.

“It’s been a long trip,” I murmur. “Let’s eat something, get some sleep and get cleaned up, and then we can leave.” I glance at Dudu. “All of us.”

She doesn’t argue. I’m sure if I told her to walk into the river she’d do it, no questions asked. She might not be happy about it, but she’d do it anyway. I don’t know how I feel about that. Subjects should be loyal, but there’s loyalty…and then there’s madness. But I’m too tired to think about that now.

“I’ll bring some food,” says Dudu.

“I’ll help you.” Sam gets up and follows Dudu out of the room, leaving me and Socca to exchange suspicious looks.

After a few seconds I hear whispering. I knew it. Sam’s using the opportunity to grill the new Rainmaker. I sneak a peek at Ranger Stranger. He’s deep in thought. The lines in his face are more pronounced than ever. He stares sombrely out of the window like he’s expecting someone, and not someone he wants to see. Guilt makes my stomach turn. Or maybe it’s hunger. I hope it’s hunger. I hate feeling guilty. I shouldn’t feel guilty, anyway. I’m handling the situation the best way I can.

The girls return carrying two trays. Dudu’s face is all scrunched up as she puts her tray on the table, removes the plates and carries the tray back to the kitchen without a word.

“Ag, what did you do now?” Socca asks Sam.

“Me?” She has the nerve to look insulted. “What makes you think I did anything?”

“The girl looks like she’s about to cry.” Socca reaches for a plate and hands it to Ranger. The old man doesn’t even notice until Socca says, “Rra?”

“Don’t give her a hard time,” I tell Sam. “Things are complicated already.”

“You were giving her a hard time,” she snaps, snatching up a plate.

“I’m the one in trouble.”

“Hey, I’m trying to help you. The least you could do is be grateful.”

“Why don’t you stop trying to help?” says Socca. “You’re terrible at it!”

“No one’s talking to you, Socks.”

Dudu comes back in with a jug of water and a two-litre soft drink bottle. She really does look like she’s about to cry. Sam and Socca are still arguing.

“You want to start another fight?”

“Actually, you started it.”

“Shut up!” I beat my fork against the side of my plate, and it makes a sound that rings right through my jaw.

Dudu jumps and some water spills out of the jug. “Is everything OK, Taunyana?”

“What do you think?”

Her eyes widen. She puts down the tray and takes the remaining plate from the table. OK, I shouldn’t have shouted at her, but she’s so soft and polite and eager to please. It’s annoying, and the two idiots I brought along aren’t helping, and Ranger Stranger just sits and stares out the window like the sky’s about to fall on him.

Nothing is working out the way it’s supposed to. It’s not just my life that’s screwed up, it’s my whole universe. Everything’s a mess, and right now I want to be alone in my room at home, playing Bush Hunt 3 until I fall asleep. Even if I wake up to find that my meerkat avatar’s been mauled by wild dogs, it doesn’t matter because the smell of good cooking is wafting across the compound, and Socca’s dad has promised to take us fishing near the Islands. That’s how my life is supposed to be.

We eat in silence. The meal is simple, but good. Mabele with beef and butternut. I’m too upset to eat slowly, so I shovel it down and drink two glasses of water on top. Bad idea. As soon as I set my glass down I start to feel sick. Dudu takes the plates. This time Sam stays seated, and Socca gets up to take some of the dishes. I know I should offer to help – she’ll refuse, but it’s the gesture that counts – but I’m too annoyed. I’m the prince, right? I should sit on my butt and let the loyal subjects serve me.

Socca returns alone, and we all sit and listen to Dudu wash the dishes.

“I think the prince needs his beauty sleep,” says Sam, stretching her arms above her head. “Might help his lousy mood.”

“Just shut up,” groans Socca.

“The people have the right to speak up against abuse of power,” she says.

I roll my eyes.

“You’re not the people,” Socca reminds her.

The argument is interrupted by Dudu coming in, wiping her hands on a napkin. “You must want to sleep now,” she says softly. “Taunyana, please come with me.”

I get to my feet and follow her out of the room. “I’m not taking your room.”

“Not mine. Baba’s is bigger.” She opens a door.

The room is small but neat, and the bed looks soft and comfortable. It takes a minute for her words to sink in. “You mean the man who brought us here lives with you?”

“Of course.” She looks at me in confusion. “That’s how he knew about the rainmaking. He looks after me.”

“Are you related?”

“Not by blood.” She steps into the room and folds back the duvet, like the maids do in hotels.

I wait for her to go on, but she doesn’t. I hate it when people say something mysterious and then clam up, as if they can’t tell that they’re supposed to explain themselves.

I sigh. “By marriage?”

“No.”

“Is he your legal guardian?”

She shakes her head.

“Then how are you related?”

She frowns a little. “It’s a long story, Taunyana.”

Whatever that means. “Well, I can’t take his bed. Where’s he going to sleep?”

“He’ll be fine in the sitting room. Please, you must sleep here. It would be shameful to make you sleep on the floor.”

Making an old man sleep on the floor isn’t much better, but the bed looks inviting and I get the feeling Ranger is used to sleeping in uncomfortable places. I, on the other hand, am not.

“If you need anything, just let me know,” says Dudu, moving towards the door. “The bathroom is next door. I’ll go and help your friends get settled. I think my bed will be fine for The White Girl.”

I can hear the capital letters in her voice. The White Girl, like Sam is some kind of alien. I watch her until she’s out of sight. She’s strange. Sometimes she seems like an ordinary traditional Desert girl, and other times it’s like she has been living in an underground cave or on a mountain, away from other people.

I close the door and take off my shoes. They’re filled with sand and my socks are damp and sticky. I look down at my clothes and realise how dirty I am. I shouldn’t even think of sleeping in someone else’s bed in this condition. I need a bath. I open the door again and peer into the corridor, looking for the bathroom. The door on my right is open and Sam and Dudu are inside. I take my toothbrush out of my bag and try the door on the left.

It’s tiny, as I expected. I close the door behind me. There’s no room for a bath; it’s just the shower and toilet. I don’t want to be selfish, but I take my time. I have another long journey ahead and it would be nice to be clean for a little while.

If I were home there’d be a guard outside the door right now, listening to the water run; or half-listening, daydreaming, messing around with his phone, wishing he had picked a more interesting job. I don’t miss the guards. My muscles tense under the water as I realise I’ve been guard-free for twenty-four hours. This is the first time in my life that I’ve been more than a stone’s throw away from someone in uniform. I’m a real person now, a free citizen. I’ve survived a night in the wild without the army to protect me, and I’m still in one piece.

I drop my head to my chest and watch the dirty water run into the drain, then remember that I’m in Desert. I shut the water off quickly, afraid I might empty the reservoir. Then I look for a towel. There are two hanging on the rail. They’re both a little threadbare, the blue faded almost to white. I grab the closest one, dry myself, brush my teeth and then, because I didn’t think of bringing clean clothes into the bathroom, I put on my dirty jeans again and open the door.

Dudu’s standing there. She jumps when she sees me. I don’t know why she’s jumping; I’m the one coming out of the shower with my unimpressive chest on display.

“I’m sorry, Taunyana. I didn’t know you were in there.”

“It’s OK.”

I walk past her and return to my room, where I pull off my jeans, climb into bed and fall asleep immediately.

*****

Later in the day, when we’re all fresh and clean, Sam has a surprise for me. Not the good kind. I scroll through the news on her freshly charged phone, my mouth hanging open. Between yesterday’s breaking news bulletin and today, the Lion media has completely lost the plot.

Someone from the palace leaked the fact that the Rain Stick is missing, and suddenly everyone remembered seeing me carry it through the city. Or was it me? Based on the comments below each article, some people are convinced they saw me, Sam and Socca, while others are convinced they saw lookalikes. But that’s not the crazy part.

The crazy part is the conspiracy theory. It takes me a while to piece things together from the eyewitness reports in the news articles, blogs and random comments, but the gist of it goes like this: the three of us have been kidnapped, and the Rain Stick stolen. The kidnappers have been planning this for months. I’m chuffed that they think Escape Inc. is the work of professionals. Months of planning indeed. Ha! Anyway, these kidnappers took the trouble of getting three kids that look like us to steal the Rain Stick, so that no one would be suspicious if they saw them running away with it.

The accusations are flying. Some think it’s the work of another kingdom’s Rainmaker, and that starts a whole new discussion as the commenters debate the possibilities. Kingdom of the Waves? Tusk? Leopard? Or some insane, ambitious person from further away?

“They might start a war over this,” says Sam. Her eyes shine, like war would be the highlight of the year.

“Nobody’s starting a war,” Socca scoffs around a mouthful of eggs. “It’s rubbish!”

“How can things get so crazy in less than twenty-four hours?” I return the phone and push my plate away. I’ve lost my appetite.

“People are worried and afraid,” says Dudu. She sits on the floor a short distance from us, as if she doesn’t want to impose. “They just want their prince back.”

I’m no hero. Anyone who knows me knows that. I’m not brave. I mean I not scared of snakes or anything, but if war breaks out you can bet I’ll be hanging out with the refugees rather than the soldiers. I’m the wrong person for this job. Why couldn’t all this drama have happened during my father’s reign, or his father’s reign, or a hundred years from now?

“Did you hear the helicopters?” Socca looks at me.

I shake my head. “When?”

“This morning,” says Sam, still scrolling through the news. “There were at least two of them flying over us.”

“Damn,” I whisper, wondering how I slept through that. “Hey, how come you heard them?” I shoot a suspicious look Socca’s way. “You sleep like the dead.”

“Come on, K. I was awake! This floor’s hard, man.” He looks at Dudu with an apologetic smile and shrugs, but she’s staring at the floor, deep in thought.

I lean back in my chair with a sigh. “If they don’t find any clues they’re going to send soldiers to go knocking on doors or something.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re leaving,” says Socca. “The sooner we get back, the sooner all the drama will be over.”

“Are you kidding?” Sam lowers her phone. “The real drama doesn’t begin till we get back.”

We’re all quiet for a while, digesting that. There’s no escape for me now. It’s time to go home.

We hear the sound of a door opening and Ranger Stranger comes in. We greet him and he nods in response, then turns to me. “Are you ready, Taunyana?”

“Not really, but I don’t have a choice.”

“There’s some food for you in the kitchen,” says Dudu, getting to her feet.

“I’ll go,” says Ranger, and Dudu sinks back onto the floor.

I look at her for a long time. How did the ancestors decide who to pick as the new Rainmaker? What made them choose her? She’s not exactly hero material. OK, I’m not either, but she’s worse. She looks like she’d fall apart after a week in the Capital City.

“OK,” says Sam with a sigh. “It’s just us kids now. Spit it out.”

Dudu blinks. “Sorry?”

“Your secret. Tell us how you do it.”

“I told you yesterday.”

Sam snorts. “You talked about gods in the blood and all sorts of crazy things. But how do you actually make it rain? Do you just close your eyes and make a wish?”

Dudu shakes her head. “I don’t know. I can’t explain it. When I feel that the rain is ready, I just…wait for it.”

Sam looks at me. I look at Socca.

“What does that mean?” I ask.

Dudu shrugs. “You’re asking questions I can’t answer, Taunyana. All I know is what happens. I don’t know why, or how, or what it means.”

“So helpful,” Sam sneers.

Ranger comes out of the kitchen, smacking his lips. “Let’s go. It’s getting late.”

The sun has already set when we step out of the house. We have a fresh stock of water, fruit and dry snacks, and those of us who will be recognized have hats on. It helps that we’re four kids now instead of three. Ranger has put his rifle in a long, narrow case slung over his back. It looks like the sort of case architects keep their plans in. I guess he doesn’t want to attract attention. Dudu has brought only a small shoulder bag with her. I don’t know whether it’s because she thinks she won’t be gone long or she doesn’t have much to pack, so I don’t comment. Ranger leads us back the way we came, and soon we’ve left the little town behind.

*****

The trip seems easier the second time around. Maybe it’s because we’re clean, well-rested and well-fed, and the night air is cool and pleasant. The sky is clear, the moon is bright, and we’re keeping a steady pace.

“I’ve never left Desert before,” Dudu whispers.

I look at her and realise for the first time that she’s scared. I don’t blame her. There’s no telling what the Council will decide once they’ve heard our insane story, and that’s assuming they believe it in the first place. They might dismiss us as a bunch of troublemaking kids with too much time on our hands. They might think I’m trying to hide the fact that I can’t control my rainmaking power. They’d rather believe anything but the truth.

“Delta’s a nice place,” I reply. “It’s beautiful. Green, lots of animals and birds. You’ll like it.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I cringe. Pathetic. The girl’s afraid for her life and I’m acting like a rep for the Tourism Board.

Instead of giving me the evil eye, like Sam’s doing, Dudu offers a grateful smile. I’m trying to comfort her after all; I guess she figures it’s the thought that counts.

“The Council are reasonable people,” I go on. Then I think of Rre Pule. “Mostly. They always do what’s best for the kingdom.”

Dudu nods, but I can tell by her frown that she’s afraid what’s best for the kingdom will be bad for her.

“They’ve never hurt a kid.” As far as I know.

Socca clears his throat and turns back to give me a look that tells me to stop while I’m ahead.

“But there’s borstal,” Dudu points out.

Oh. Forgot about that. “Borstal’s not so bad.” Ja, ‘cause I’m the expert on detention centres for juvenile delinquents. “It’s like a really strict boarding school. And you’d be in a girl’s centre. You’ll spend all your time reading and gardening and making reed baskets.”

Sam groans. “For goodness’s sake, shut up before you give the girl a heart attack! Nothing you’ve said is making her feel better.”

“I’m just saying whatever happens won’t be as bad as she thinks.”

“No, it’ll probably be worse.”

“And that’s supposed to help?”

“Quiet,” Ranger hisses. “Remember where we are. We must be careful.”

We fall silent. We haven’t seen any more desert dogs. Despite Ranger’s notion that the animals can tell a prince from a subject, I’d rather not take any chances. Besides, I don’t want my friends to get eaten, either.

I sneak a peek at Dudu. Poor kid. I don’t know what’s going on, but I no longer think it’s her fault. She probably just woke up one day and found out she could make it rain, like the first Rainmaker. She’s a victim, caught up in this mess like the rest of us. I don’t think she’s the type to steal a great power anyway, even if she had a whole army of witches on her side. Let’s just hope the Council will see things that way.

Suddenly the ground rumbles. We all stop walking, even Ranger.

“Is there a quarry nearby?” asks Sam.

Dudu shakes her head.

“Maybe it was an explosion,” says Socca, glancing back towards the town.

“We’re too far from town.” Ranger frowns. His eyes sweep from left to right, taking in our surroundings in the dark. “That was something else. Something…”

Another tremor hits and this time I have to lean forward to keep myself from falling. Sam trips and Socca reaches out to grab her just in time.

“Thanks,” she murmurs.

Oh, this is bad. If Sam is scared enough to thank Socca rather than bite his head off for touching her, we must be in trouble. The kingdom is nowhere near any fault lines though, and there has never been any report of earthquakes. Whatever is happening is unnatural. Maybe it has something to do with the new age we’re supposedly about to enter. Maybe it’s an age of tremors.

“We should move,” says Ranger, his eyes still scanning the terrain. “This spot isn’t safe.”

“Where are we going to go?” asks Sam. “It’s not like there’s any place we can hide from an earthquake.”

“Just do as you’re told, child,” he replies calmly. “Come on. All of you. Move!”

We follow him. He sets off at a brisk walk, then starts to run. My heart races. Ranger is nervous and that scares the hell out of me. The rest of us struggle to keep up, half-jogging, half-walking through the sand.

Another tremor, and then Dudu lets out a sudden squeal. My head whips in her direction.

“The sand,” she whispers in horror. “It’s sinking!”

“Run!” cries Ranger.

We obey, forcing ourselves forward through the thick sand. I hear a soft squelching sound behind me, like someone stepping in mud. A few minutes later I hear it again, coming from a different direction this time. When I turn to look behind me I see patches of sand vanishing, as if there’s a giant under the ground, sucking them up. Whatever is going on, it’s catching up to me.

I thought we had enough excitement on the trip into Desert to last us a lifetime, but apparently not. Now we have earthquakes and quicksand to deal with. Wonderful. When all this is over I should sell my story to a film producer. It’ll make a good adventure flick, fun for the whole family. Assuming I make it out alive, of course, ‘cause everybody likes a happy ending. Especially me.

I run as fast as I can. I’m only a few paces behind Socca, with Sam and Dudu on either side of me. We’re all together this time. That’s something. At least there’s no way one of us can get lost or singled out by a desert dog.

The squelching sounds get louder. I push myself forward with all my strength, and then… I don’t know how it happens. It’s like magic. One second I’m at Socca’s heels, with Dudu so close on my right that I could reach out and grab her arm, and the next second I’m falling. The ground opens up under me, making a perfect Kitso-sized hole, and I slip right in. My hands swing upwards, reaching for something to hold onto, but there’s nothing but air. Sand falls in on me, hitting my face and neck, pouring into my mouth.

The last thing I hear is Dudu screaming, “Taunyana!”

And then everything goes dark.