The Second Ancestor coiled tighter. "We do not give secrets to those who cannot keep them. You are mortal. You will speak. You will forget. You will die, and the secret dies with you."
The serpents spoke among themselves in a language of hisses and low thunder. Finally, the First Ancestor lowered its head until its breath stirred the ostrich feather. the story of the makgabe
Light filled the cave. Makgabe felt her spine soften, her nails harden into digging claws, her sight sharpen until she could count the grains of sand in the dark. She shrank until the stone ear became a doorway. The Second Ancestor coiled tighter