Chapter 15: Three Days

Lagos felt wrong.

The harmattan sky was dark at midday. The sun was present, but its light seemed weak behind the dust.

Dogs cried at empty corners. Children woke from sleep speaking languages they had never learned. At Murtala Muhammed Airport, a woman collapsed after claiming she had seen her dead father waiting at arrivals.

Zara felt the city before she fully entered it.

Portrait of a Lady had changed during the flight. In London, the rose had been dark and controlled. In the Lagos heat, it opened wider—rose, incense and patchouli pressing close to her skin as if the fragrance recognised the danger waiting outside.

Beside her, Adisa smelled of Gris Charnel.

Normally warm and calm, the fragrance now carried a sharper edge. Black tea, fig and sandalwood sat beneath the tiredness in his face.

“You feel it too,” Zara said as they entered the arrivals hall.

Adisa looked around at the restless crowd. “The Gate is already affecting the city.”

Zara’s grandmother met them at the Ikoyi house.

Amouage Guidance reached Zara before Folake crossed the sitting room. Pear, incense, vanilla and sandalwood—the scent Zara had known all her life as safety.

For one second, Zara was twenty years old again, standing beside her grandmother before the blank register.

Then Folake looked at Adisa.

She knew him.

“The one who holds the world in place,” Folake said.

Adisa bowed his head.

His Gris Charnel deepened as he moved closer to her, but Folake did not appear surprised by the scent or the power beneath it.

Zara’s mother looked between them. “You know him?”

“I know what he is,” Folake replied.

They gathered in the sitting room.

Folake sat beside Zara. Her Guidance settled around them both, steady against the dark rose of Portrait of a Lady.

Adisa remained opposite them, while Zara’s parents listened from the other side of the room.

Folake told them about the Gate of Names beneath the Covenant hall.

“The woman in Accra was its last keeper,” she said.

Zara’s father leaned forward. “Why was none of this in the records?”

“Because the Covenant removed anything it could not control,” Folake answered.

Adisa looked at her. “Did the woman mention Taiwo?”

“She warned me that he would come,” Folake said. “A man who believed order was more important than choice.”

Zara’s mother looked at Folake. “How long have you known?”

“Long enough to understand that knowing is not always the same as being able to prevent.”

Portrait of a Lady rose slightly from Zara’s skin.

Folake placed one hand over hers.

The rose settled.

That evening, reports came in from Third Mainland Bridge.

Drivers were seeing dead relatives standing in the road.

Cars began crashing!

Zara, Adisa and Kofi arrived to smoke, fire and screaming.

A bus hung over the edge of the bridge.

Adisa raised both hands. “Get the passengers out!”

The Gris Charnel around him grew heavier as his power took hold. Black tea and warm wood pushed through the smoke while the bus stopped falling.

Rescue workers stared at the vehicle hanging above the water.

“Move!” Adisa shouted. “I cannot hold it forever!”

Kofi ran toward the burning cars. “I will clear the fire!”

Zara moved through the wreckage.

Portrait of a Lady cut through petrol, smoke and burning rubber. The rose sharpened whenever she came close to a spirit leaving its body.

A paramedic tried to stop her.

“You cannot go in there!”

“There is a woman inside.”

“The vehicle is not stable!”

Zara pushed past him.

She found the woman beneath the crushed door. Her eyes were open, but her spirit was already rising from her body.

Zara placed one hand over the woman’s heart.

“Come back.”

The rose and incense around Zara became almost unbearable.

The woman gasped!

The paramedic froze.

“What did you do?”

Zara was already moving toward another car.

They saved thirty-seven people.

Paramedics worked around them—too busy, frightened and confused to ask how.

A spirit stood on the water below.

It wore Elder Taiwo’s face.

Three days, Zara. Then the Gate opens.

Portrait of a Lady turned cold on Zara’s skin.

Kofi stared over the bridge. “Did both of you see that?”

“Yes,” Zara answered.

The spirit sank into the lagoon.

At once, the bus Adisa was holding dropped several inches.

He forced it back into place until the last passenger escaped.

Then he fell to one knee.

Blood ran from his nose.

The Gris Charnel around him had weakened, leaving only a faint trace of wood and smoke.

Zara caught him.

Kofi moved toward them. “He has used too much power.”

Adisa wiped the blood away. “We cannot keep doing this alone.”

“We will not,” Zara replied.

She looked toward Lagos Island.

Portrait of a Lady rose again beneath the smoke.

“Tomorrow, we tell the Council everything.”