Chapter 5 THE MAN WITH NO SHADOW

Rain began that night without thunder soft, almost apologetic. A whisper of water, like the sky was afraid to weep too loud.

Ejike sat by the Dibia's fire, staring into the flames. Dibia Okonkwo crushed dried leaves into a calabash, his hands moving in the rhythm of old rituals.

"They watch you now," the Dibia murmured. "The ones who borrow skin. You've stirred something ancient."

Ejike leaned forward. "Why me? I'm just a nuisance in this village. A clown."

The Dibia looked up, eyes flickering like the fire. "The land remembers those who laugh at the dark. It fears them."

Silence wrapped the hut like a shroud.

Then came the knock.

Three taps. Not loud. But wrong - like something imitating a human sound.

Ejike stood. "Who is it?"

No answer.

He opened the door slowly.

A man stood there. Tall. Bald. Naked but for a strip of red cloth tied around his waist.

His skin was dry, cracking at the joints, as if made of clay. His eyes were empty sockets, but they wept something like ink.

But it wasn't his appearance that turned Ejike's blood cold.

It was what wasn't there.

No shadow.

Even with the fire behind him, even with the rain-light slanting sideways, no shadow at his feet.

The man pointed one long finger at Ejike's chest.

"You are the crack," he said. "The crack through which we will pour."

Then he collapsed.

Just... folded like fabric, face-first into the red earth.

Ejike screamed.

Dibia Okonkwo rushed to the doorway. He looked at the body, then deeper into the distance, into whatever veil the old knew how to pierce.

"He didn't come to kill you," the Dibia said. "He came to mark you."

"What does that mean?" Ejike asked, panic threading his voice.

The Dibia took a slow breath. "It means they've chosen you. Something in your blood, dream, or soul is the doorway. And tonight, they've placed the key."

Behind them, the fire hissed and rose, high and sudden, revealing for just a moment the man's shadow now dancing alone on the far wall, without a body to own it.