Free The Elephant's Tale by Lauren St. John

sounded as if he was referring to slave labor. It’s all very mysterious, but I think we can be certain of one thing.”
    “What’s that?”
    “This is about something much bigger than Sawubona.”

    They had no way of knowing when the pilot and/or Reuben James would return to collect the cargo, but they guessed that at the very least the men would be off eating breakfast somewhere. And it was vital that they try to get their bearings before it got any hotter. They were uncomfortably conscious of how little liquid they had.
    Within minutes of starting to climb the dunes, Martine would have killed for something sweet, fizzy, and ice-cold. She and Ben were barefoot, having taken off their boots and slung them around their necks, and their toes sank deep into the red sand. On and on they slogged, muscles burning. Halfway up, they shared the remainder of the water. Neither of them said anything, but both of them knew that once the apple juice was gone they’d be in trouble.
    “I bet you we get to the top and find there’s a lovely hotel with shady palms and a sparkling blue swimming pool on the other side,” Ben said hopefully.
    “I bet you we get to the top and there’s an air-conditioned shopping center offering free chocolate chip ice cream and all the lemonade we can drink!” said Martine.
    That cheered them up and they resumed their struggle to the top of the dune. Ben, who was a lot fitter than Martine, made it there first, with a lot less panting. She joined him a minute later, but took her time getting her breath back before looking around. Ben’s expression had already told her what she was likely to see, and she was in no hurry to have it confirmed.
    From horizon to blue horizon stretched layer upon layer of red dunes, tossed and scooped like some gigantic desert dessert. There was no sign of life. Had it not been for a tar road that tapered away in the haze, and the plane, toy-sized on the distant runway, they could have been on Mars.
    “If it helps, we’re in Sossusvlei,” said Ben. “I recognize these red dunes from photographs. We’re at least six hours by car from the nearest big town.”
    “Great,” said Martine, shielding her eyes from the glaring sun. “Let’s hope we don’t have to do it on foot.”
    She sat down on the dune. “Ben, I’m so sorry. As usual, this is my fault. I was in such a state at the possibility of losing Jemmy and Khan and Sawubona, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was sick of feeling helpless. I wanted to do something. It didn’t occur to me that Reuben James would be doing business in the middle of the Namib desert. I thought we’d be in a proper place with cars and roads and houses, where I could do some investigating. But this is a disaster. And the worst part is, I’ve dragged you into it.”
    Ben flopped down beside her and opened one of the little cartons of apple juice. He offered it to her before taking a sip himself. “You didn’t drag me into it. I came because I wanted to, remember? Anyway, you need to take your own advice.”
    “What advice is that?”
    “What you said to your grandmother. We can’t give up. Let’s do what we came here to do. Let’s get to the bottom of what Reuben James is up to and find enough evidence to prevent him from taking over Sawubona.”
    Martine looked at him. “There’s something else.”
    Briefly, she told him about Grace’s prophesy, about the northwest-facing tusks and finding the four-leaf clover on the belly of the plane. She also relayed her grandmother’s conversation about the Damaraland map in the safety-deposit box, and told him of the strange coincidence of Angel being from that exact place. “Grace always says that there’s no such thing as a coincidence. So it’s a bit odd to find two sets of coincidences in less than twenty-four hours.”
    “Mmm,” murmured Ben. “And there might be a third. What if the reason Angel attacked Lurk was that she knew him from Damaraland and that he did something