A hum of laughter and commentary swelled up after that, Luc and I a silent island in the steady stream of familiarity, until a knock came at the door.
“Must be Mark,” I said, rolling to my feet.
“Kira, just came to tell you where Mark is,” Duke said, looking past me into the room. Johnno was playing something now, the others looking on, discussing ways to add to that. A warm light flared in Duke’s eyes in response. He wasn’t playing much lately, bogged down with the emergency withdrawal, and I think he missed that. “I was going to invite you to come down to the fire. We’ve got a gathering happening outside. Food, drink, music. A lot of people are suffering, so we come together, try and make them feel safe. Bring your people. It’s good you’re spending time with them, but I think ours need to see what they’re fighting for. You can bring hope, if you reach out.”
There was no demand in his tone or his eyes, just that endless warmth. He leaned against the frame, all lazy indolence, but it was only now I was starting to see the lie in that. He might make it look effortless, but he was the hardest working guy in the place.
“Sure,” I replied with a nod. “We can do that.”
The music was the first thing I heard as we walked through the darkness. We’d left Aragide, out of Ashanti’s place, and back out into the town beyond. I’d looked up at the night sky as we went, not having seen it for days. The palace was insular, a little world within a world, and it made me wonder what else we’d been locked away from, in our little cocoon. But birds called and a breeze played gently and people, they moved like we did, towards the fire.
It was a huge bonfire, set in a circle of sand within the centre of the settlement, the ground around it packed with people. Kids, families, singles, couples, people surrounded the fire as they chattered, played, ate, and drank.
Until we arrived.
Word had gone out, Liam had told any of his former court that wanted to join us could, and more had come out of the woodwork, but no matter our number, people paused what they were doing and looked up as we approached. I nodded to those I saw closest and walked around to where there looked to be enough space for us all to sit.
“Welcome to all who join us for this sharing,” Ashanti said, stepping closer to the fire. “Many of you have come to our circle before. Some of you are newcomers. We use this and these gatherings to reconnect with our community. There is no hierarchy in a circle, all are equal on its perimeter, and that is the principle upon which we join. Young or old—” A baby squealed and then was shushed, but the Mother smiled at this. “You may speak and be heard, as long as you adhere to these rules—listen, allow whoever is speaking to finish, and tell your truth.”
“Truth! Truth!” A cry went up through the crowds, those who’d been here before obviously knowing the ritual.
A tall woman got to her feet, the crowd falling silent almost as she moved. She swept a long mane of dreadlocks flecked through with grey over her shoulder, silver rings with bright stones flashing on her fingers.
“Some of you know me.” She looked out onto the people gathered, as if acknowledging every familiar face. “For those who don’t, I’m Olivia. I’ve come, my family have come here, to the home of the Mother, to Aragide.” Her smile was so bright, so pure on her face, I saw hundreds pop up in the crowd in response. “Who would have thought it?”
She waited for the murmured responses to die down before continuing, her back straightening, her smile fading, an immense gravity falling over her. Her hands clasped together in front of her, her head dropping down slightly, as if in prayer.
“My truth.” She took a deep breath in.
“Truth.
My truth.
My truth is in the tears of my mother.
My truth is in the pain of my grandmother’s hands.
My truth is in my fear for my daughters.
Knowing we are less than a man and nothing against a white one.
Truth.
My truth.
My truth is I smile tight lipped and rage filled.
My truth is I laugh empty and hollow.
My truth is that I stand tall
Heart trembling, soul shaking, knees like water but frozen upright.
My mother’s tears.
My grandmother’s pain.
My fear for my child.
Every year, no change.
My love for myself is self-taught and fickle as the ocean, deep, dark, but ever unknown.
My anger for this world is white hot, blinding as honest fire burns.
My pain for all has been and I know is coming is true as the sun will rise.
My truth, the truth.
I am tired from bone, soul weary tired
But still each day, I rise.”
I expected applause, calls for more, but was left looking nervously around as silence reigned. You could hear the crackle of the fire, the coos of babies, the shift of feet on flagstones, but nothing else. The quiet drew out, getting bigger, more expansive, heavy as snow fall, deadening and smothering everything, until her head jerked up, a glitter in her eyes as she did. Then it came. The courtyard rang with a deafening noise as hands clapped, throats shouted and whooped, mouths uttered their own truths that they’d heard in Olivia’s.
“You all know me,” Duke said, stepping out, his guitar in hand. Rey brought out a chair and a stomp box and placed them on the ground as the other man surveyed the crowd. “Some of you I mighta only met today, but you know me, like I know you. I see you.” A few stray cries went up. “I see you and this song, it hears you.” He didn’t elaborate or explain. His head dipped down, a silver slide fitted over his finger, and then he began to play.
The guitar was a funny instrument, able to make a wide array of sounds, but in Duke’s hands, it was the slow wail of everyone here. A loose arrangement of slow notes, his finger sliding over the strings, drawing each one out until it built, a loose-limbed dirge that really made sense when a woman got up. Tall and slim, she shifted by the fireside, her body curving, twisting, forming arabesques of strange beauty. Duke looked up for just a minute, noting her dance with a nod of his head.
I know this, Lilith said.
What?
I know this. That song, those steps. I felt her shift restlessly inside me, Luc’s arms going around me, anchoring me in his lap when her movements became mine. I felt his lips against my neck, pressing against the slight throb of the mark Jake had left. This is—
She fell silent as Duke’s eyes slid around, meeting ours across the crowd. He played, the woman danced, and something grew inside me, something beyond my recognition or understanding, starting out as the hiss of reeds on a riverbank, the lapping of water fused with the chirr of insects. I jumped when I heard the rumble of thunder, my eyes jerking up to see the clouds massing in the night sky. They were dark grey scars on the seamless black, shifting and churning as the music rang out.
The woman, our eyes were drawn to her, a silhouette now against the blaze of the fire. Duke’s notes picked up, those lazy sounds growing more strident now. Less pain, more anger, rising up out of the darkness like the flames did in the sky, ready to burn bright. I watched his fingers shift in sharp staccato movements, plucking, stretching the strings, forcing more and more clamorous sounds from them. She, the woman, moved in time with them, others joining her in what for all intents and purposes looked like a witches’ dance. And maybe it was. They were figures of terrible beauty, their age, their faces, their individuality lost, but something else was given.