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bone-white through her golden skin. Tears trembled in her eyes, and her small mouth, with the prominent lower lip that gave her the look of a permanent pout, trembled.
    “Er . . .” Nigel said. He looked away from her. He could not bear to cause her pain. “I must go . . . out. I have to arrange a surprise for you.”
    He tore himself away from her gentle touch—from her hand on his shoulder, detaining him—and hurried into the crowd, pursued by peddlers who pushed their wares in his face. He did not dare turn back and see Emily's face, her gaze no doubt tearful and disappointed.
    He'd make his peace with Emily. Later.

 

    A PROUD DAUGHTER OF THE MASAI

    Nassira, daughter of Nedera of the Masai, hurried down the narrow metal stairs of the carpetship.
    A tall, young woman with skin the reddish-brown of well-polished mahogany, she had features that evoked the statues of ancient Egypt and a proud bearing, in marked contrast to the way she stumbled down the stairs, undignifiedly
    The British clothes she wore—a maid's uniform and heavy black shoes that laced up the ankle—made walking difficult, yet she hadn't had time to change, because Nigel Oldhall hadn't waited for his trunks. He'd left his wife behind and hurried out of the carpetship. And Nassira had to follow him.
    Running down the stairs against the flow of other servants, Nassira fought maids and trunk-carrying valets. She could read disdain in the too-pale eyes of the doughy-faced women and shabby-suited men who pushed past her, shoving at her with their elbows and shoulders. Nassira swallowed back affronted pride that people such as these, Water People, would think themselves superior to her.
    She was a woman of the Masai, the most important tribe of all, the most favored by God. God, whom the Masai called Engai, had given the Masai all the cattle in the world, while the other tribes had received only the animals of the forest. Over the centuries, some of the cattle had strayed, some even ending up in the hands of whites. But the Masai were ever too willing to recover their stolen property. Their cattle raids had made them feared, the acknowledged lords of the region. Even lions feared Masai spears. And now Nassira had to endure disdain from the white people. Water People . Long ago one of the Masai holy men had foretold that white people would come out of the river, and their innards would be full of lard. Yet Nassira had long practice in disguising her feelings. She'd lived in London for six months, and there learned that no one knew of the Masai, or the offenses of the white people against the Masai. Instead, they assumed that white men were the undisputed lords of creation and that they had brought civilization and peace to the other continents. And they expected Nassira to be humble, to give them way. Nassira had done it for six months, but she had no time to do it now.
    She couldn't lose sight of Nigel Oldhall, who was on the quay and walking fast toward the street, pursued by a group of men hawking goods.
    Shoulder forward, Nassira pushed past the multitude of people and leapt over a trunk carried by two men. Nigel Oldhall would lead her to the jewel and the instructions for the ritual that would make Africans as strong as Europeans, capable of casting off the yoke of European oppression.
    Years ago, at the Maniata—the ritual warrior camp of the Masai in which adolescents learned to hunt lions and raid cattle—Nassira had learned why Africa was so sorely enslaved by the arrogant Water People. A spell had been wrought by a long-ago European, who had gathered to him the power of all people on the European continent. While that spell had deprived the common Europeans of power, it had given great power to a few Europeans. Power that could not be matched, even by the greatest shamans of Africa.
    Burning to avenge the ills done to her people and her land, Nassira had joined an organization called the Hyena Men, which promised to harness the power of Africa