Black Panther by Sheree Renée Thomas

Author:Sheree Renée Thomas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags:  
Publisher: Titan

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE PROBLEM WITH DRAGONS

AFTER EXPLORING the underground network, T’Challa returned to the spot where he had left Baron Macabre and King Cadaver. The Panther King made a mental note to have W’Kabi and the Taifa Ngao shut down the series of underground passages after thorough inspection. The pair had been incapacitated but were still breathing. Their souls had not crossed into Death’s Domain. Not yet. But, amidst the broken mirrors, he found only two marks scorched into the floor where the Baron and King Cadaver had sprawled only minutes before. Black ooze bubbled and popped where the pair had lain. The sight disgusted T’Challa, but he made himself look. He bent to one knee and produced a slender vial nestled in his sleeve. T’Challa pulled a small stick from the container and dipped the tool into the burned goo.

“One more clue, N’Jadaka; one step closer to the source of your power. Once I find it, I will destroy it, and I will end you.” T’Challa considered the farm boy, Kantu, who had lost his father to the Death Regiment. T’Challa had been about that age when T’Chaka was assassinated.

The Kimoyo beads fastened around T’Challa’s wrist buzzed and flashed neon green, black, and yellow.

The combination of colors signaled a message from Taku. T’Challa returned to the weapons depot. Staring into the vast expanse, he raised the Kimoyo beads toward his mouth.

“This is T’Challa. Come in, Taku,” the Black Panther said. He spoke in measured tones, drew all his strength to hide the utter shock, the dismay that came with being violated.

“Your Majesty, when are you returning to the royal palace? I have gathered a highly sensitive piece of intelligence I do not wish to share with anyone except you.”

“We are all learning today, my friend. I have information of my own that will prove useful in our pursuit of Killmonger.”

With a mental command, T’Challa cut the transmission on the Kimoyo beads. He stared at Killmonger’s handiwork.

“You think you can turn Wakanda against me,” he said aloud. “This is my country. I love Wakanda and she will never fall to you. By the power of Bast, Wakanda forever.”

T’Challa returned to the path that had led him to this terrible discovery. He climbed the chasm, leaping from wall to wall through the pitch dark until he found himself back in the City of the Dead. He had emerged not too far from M’Jumbak’s farm. The thought of the kind farmer being forced into such horrid bondage after death pained T’Challa. He would ask the shamans of Mount Kanda to find a way to put the farmer and the other poor undead souls to rest. For now, he searched the Necropolis for M’Jumbak, to capture him and return him. He slipped through the shadows, making his way around the old tombstones as he called M’Jumbak’s name. He searched to no avail until sunrise vanquished the darkness, expelled the primal hunter pacing his heart.

The sun hung over the Golden City, a burnished disk illuminating the sky.

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