She began to weep openly. "Please don't get mad at me. You know how your father gets; if he knew I was coming to you for help it would upset him terribly. He wouldn't understand."

"Why didn't you go to another healer, then?"

"They aren't good like my son. I don't know about this Aiheu you worship, but you have a light that shines in the darkness. I'm not sure if I believe in him, but I believe in you."

Makedde felt tears sting his own eyes as he gathered her into his arms. He sat back and looked at her, wiping her tears away with a trembling hand. "I will be as gentle as I can."

Hating himself for the pain he knew he was inflicting, he placed his fingers softly on her temples. Neema hissed in pain but kept still. Makedde was alarmed at the thready pulse he felt in her temples; her heart was racing like a panicked zebra. He felt the glands underneath her jaw and felt his own pulse race with fear; they were swollen and hard, and was hot as a rock at high sun. He seized a stick used for stirring his medicines and held it in front of her eyes. "Mother, I want you to look at the stick. Follow it with your eyes."

She looked at him curiously, but nodded.

Makedde moved the small stick slowly to the left, watching her eyes carefully as they tracked it smoothly. He moved it back the other way, with the same result. His panic receded somewhat; she was not showing the signs he had feared. He stopped moving the stick, still watching her.

Her eyes stayed steady on the twig, but began to twitch uncontrollably. Suddenly her pupils dilated and she fainted.

"Oh great Aiheu, please, no!" Leaping forward, he cradled her in his arms gently, rocking her back and forth and weeping.

There was a huge commotion at the entranceway as Kinara came bustling in, ringing wet from his bath and out of breath. "Have you seen your mother? I've looked all over and...." He broke off, staring at her prone form. "What have you done! What's wrong with her??"