I felt it—the itch, the need to move along with them in the quiver of my muscles, the ache in my bones. Luc held me tight, and I held myself tighter, knowing I could never approximate a quarter of their elegance. I was a stumbling, uncoordinated thing, not worthy of dancing by the fire. But Lilith, she whined inside me, like a dog on a leash, a harsh, whistling sound.
Aramka… Came a hiss from my mind.
Duke’s hand slapped down on the strings, the song stopping abruptly, the dancers dropping like cut marionettes. He just stared for a moment, wide eyed and devoid of the usual impenetrable façade of calm he always carried with him, not moving, not responding, until finally, he was up and out of his chair, guitar in one hand, stomp box in the other.
“So is this some kind of blues only thing, or can anyone play?” Liam called from the crowd. Duke paused, some of his crew moving in to take his instruments and chair
“You got something to say? Your truth?” he shot back. I watched one Hartley look at the other, some kind of secret brother bullshit playing out between them, before Liam nodded to Billy. He passed Liam the acoustic guitar he’d brought out, watching Liam tuck it under his arm, run his fingers across the strings with a possessive eye, only saying something when he went to twist the tuning pegs.
“It’s in perfect tune,” Billy snapped. “Leave it.”
“Yeah, all right,” Liam said, lightly strumming. Both men took their positions by the fire, the flames creating a halo around them. “The Changelings, we don’t really do slow songs.”
“Then don’t sing one,” Duke said.
“You asked for truth.” Their eyes swivelled around to meet mine, Luc stiffening in response. “Sometimes, it’s other people’s songs that get the closest.”
“Fuck…” he hissed. “He’s gonna do it.”
Liam nodded to Johnno, who picked out a plaintive little opening sequence that made me frown, struggling to remember where I’d heard the song. Then Liam, his voice that trademark ragged rasp, started singing the lyrics. I froze still as he sang the words, about a street smart Romeo, singing up at Juliet about stepping out from beneath a streetlight, about crying when they made love.
It should’ve been cheesy and dated, because the last time I’d heard this song was on the golden oldies station Dad insisted on playing in the car, but Liam being Liam, he managed to make everything his. He bit off the wildly romantic words, injecting a hint of menace and a whole lot of something else. I remembered their song, “Ache” when it first came out, having put the album on the first time, expecting a lot more of their usual, and being completely slayed by the brutal elegy to Rhiannon, but even that had nothing on this.
It shouldn’t be like this. Liam shouldn’t be casting this fucking spell with someone else’s words, Johnno shouldn’t be joining in, his eyes burning gold across the circle. This makes a fucking mockery of this whole thing. This isn’t a truth. This is…
“I’ve got to go,” I said to Luc, pulling away and scrambling to my feet. I couldn’t listen to them picking out the intricate array of notes, not when they sang about exploding into people’s hearts.
Not when they exploded into mine.
“Kira, stay. It’s cool,” Luc said, trying to grab me, but I weaselled out of his grip, feeling like I slimmed down into a thin shadow of myself. A shadow that ran, despite knowing how useless that was.
So much for not running.
People called my name, but I still ran. Johnno and Liam still sang, but I still ran. Others rose up, drawing closer to hear the music, others ferrying food back to their loved ones, people sat and ate and drank and listened, but I arrowed towards the steps that led into Ashanti’s residence. I thought I was home and hosed as I scaled them, but then out he came, bleeding free of the shadows.
“Kira,” Billy said, my name little more than a hiss, but he caught my arm and hauled me back when I would push past him. “They rattled you?” He didn’t wait for a response, nodding to himself. “C’mon, I know where to take you.”
“Where?” I asked.
“You want more than skin hunger and flashy gestures, yeah? You want something real, something solid. This night, it’s about truth. No more games, no more plays. Well, I’ll show you the one they’re hiding from you.”
He held out a hand with that same awful, shuttered look he seemed to use so often with me. I took his hand, half to see the surprise there, half to see what Billy’s truth was.
Chapter 15
It was the screams I heard first.
Aragide was so quiet and peaceful, seeming to absorb the people that entered it with little fuss, so to hear the full-throated wail of a child, of several children, was a shock. I felt it as we walked, something that stilled my steps, then hurried them—that primal need to alleviate a child’s pain, to make the cries stop. Billy kept pace with me as I strode towards the source, then ran.
I came to a halt when I reached the room. The door was open, but we filled it, standing there, trying to take it all in. The tear in reality, hovering in the room, the people rushing in and out of the portal, carrying in the bloodied, the wounded. And kids, screaming children. Their wails weren’t the petulant cry for more. These children shook, their bodies spasming with the pain that racked them.
These were Ashanti’s people, the ones she was pulling back into Aragide, I knew that bit. But this?
“Triage!” Quinn shouted to the people teeming in the room. Everyone moved, laying the injured on stretchers, getting bandages and water. “Wounds this way, tear gas affected that way. God knows what we’re doing about gunshot wounds. I need anyone with a light affinity to me, right now!”
“A war has begun,” Billy said. “One you started. They’re fighting it for you, whether they want to or not. C’mon.”
Billy obviously had a strong affinity with darkness, able to wrap the two of us tight in blackness, so much so, we disappeared from sight. He took my hand, and we stepped into the room.
We performed a grim dance, weaving between the many camp beds, past the injured, dark skin blossomed with bruises and smeared with blood, eyes streamed tears, phlegm rattled in throats. I didn’t like that. We needed to stop, help, but Billy’s grip was like iron, tugging me along. There was a logic to it. I had no first aid training, no clue how to help, but it clawed at me, to keep on walking. He took us right up to the portal, then we stepped through into the night.
Sounds again—sirens wailing, distant shouts, gunfire, screams, and then one to obliterate them all. Boom! Our eyes were jerked sideways, down, off the edge of the building we stood on the roof of, to where another collapsed.
“Fucking goddess’ tits!” Quinn snapped, appearing beside us. “Earth users down to the explosion site now! We’d evacuated most of the building, but there might be some people still in there. Take some of the fire and water users with you for support. The rest of you, mobilise! We need to hold them back and get the injured in, now!”
“Has anyone gone to see the Mother?” one woman asked, her eyes darting nervously.
“Word’s been sent, but everyone’s getting their kumbayas on tonight. We’re on our own until we’re not, so let’s go!”