AH, BUT THE GREAT BOOK HAD BEEN REWRITTEN. In Nsibidi at that.
Over those first few days in Durfa, there was change. Some women began encountering the ghosts of those men wiped out by Onyewsonwu’s… impetuous actions. Some ghosts became living men again. No one dared ask how this was possible. Smart. Other ghosts eventually vanished. Onyesonwu might have been remotely interested in all this. But then again, she had other concerns.
Recall that the daughter of my student-gone-wrong was Eshu, a fundamental shape shifter. Onyesonwu’s very essence was change and defiance. Daib had to have known this even as he flew from his burning headquarters where the body of Onyesonwu’s dead love, Mwita, became ash. Daib, who was now crippled and could no longer see color or work the Mystic Points without suffering unheard of pain. Certainly there are things worse than death.
Indeed, Onyesonwu did die, for something must be written before it can be rewritten. But now, see the sign of the peacock. Onyesonwu left it in the dirt of her holding cell. This symbol is scribbled by a sorcerer who believes he has been wronged. Once in a while, it is scribbled by a sorceress, too. It means, “one is going to take action.” Is it not understandable that she’d want to live in the very world she helped remake? That indeed is a more logical destiny.