Night of the Forgotten

If Barasa was determined to capture her, he would have given the order to attack already. That he had not meant she had a chance to avoid a fight.

"What do you plan to do with the demons you seek?" she asked.

"It is I who will ask the questions."

"Then I am left to guess," Zhura said, "that you are plotting to use infernals as weapons of war against the Sizwe."

Zhura wished she could see his expression behind the mask. Claw-like tendrils of fog spread across the plain.

Barasa's voice was cold as a knife's blade. "Who might have told you that?"

Zhura shrugged.

"I can only think of one person," he said, "and she fell off a cliff."

"Who said it was a person? I came to Namu looking for infernals, not people. You know that, Barasa."

Barasa's silence was deafening. He glanced around at his men. The fog obscured the sentries now. It steadily grew thicker, like soup as the water boiled away.

Zhura looked back to Ngo, who watched her impassively. He gave a sharp nod in support.

"You have spoken to Keya's demon, Blossom?" Barasa asked.

"Does it matter?" Zhura replied. "What matters is that I am not the only one who knows about your plan. Make me disappear, if you can. You won't be able to hide the truth about your plotting."

The askari murmured as the fog thickened amongst them. Their voices seemed to echo in the metallic mist, whispering from all directions.

"You said you would prove to me that you do not have the sanju."

"I will give you the summoning stone," Zhura said. "In exchange for your word that all is settled between us. You will not harm or harass those close to me."

"Lord San!" one of the askari called from the fog. It was impossible to tell where the man was in the murk.

"I am here!"

"Lord San!" the voice seemed farther away now. Most of the San men were completely obscured, and those that were still visible began to edge towards Barasa so as not to lose him in the fog.

"Stay where you are!" he snapped at his men, but his voice wavered. "Do not move."

The fog was as thick as any Zhura had ever seen, and it certainly unnerved the nobleman.

Mama Nyah? Papa Yaz, is that you? It had been two nights since the Night of the Forgotten. Perhaps the Ancestors were watching over her. Or perhaps Keya's prayer had caught their attention.

Zhura could just make out Ngo behind her. "Do I have your word?" she demanded of Barasa.

"I swear it on my House. Give me the stone."

"Ngo," Zhura called.

The spearman disappeared briefly into the murk to retrieve the stone, and then carefully picked his way towards her. They had wrapped it in her sanjuskin fabric and laid it a few paces away in the grass. Cloaked like that, Barasa's men would never have found it on their own.

"What is happening?" Ngo murmured, peering through the fog. He handed her the clay phallus.

"I believe some very old friends are watching over us." Zhura carried the summoning stone to Barasa.

She had possessed it ever since leaving Boma, and it was her only enduring link to her demon. Mili was free now. It was what the creature deserved, after all.

Barasa tensed as she approached him. Sullen eyes glared through the gold mask.

"You asked for truth," Zhura said, offering him the phallus. "Have your priests and scholars study it."

The nobleman flinched as Zhura extended her arm. In the year that she had known him, she had never been this close to him. His hand drifted near the long knife that was sheathed at his side.

She almost hoped he would attack her. His men still called for him, but they seemed distant in the vexing fog. She could make him eat his blade. No one could save him from her.

His flickering eyes showed that he knew it. "What are you? A witch?"

"There is much here you do not understand," she said softly. "Tread lightly, Barasa San."

He snatched the summoning stone from her hand. "It is done between us." As he backed away, he called to his men. "I'm here you fools!"

Zhura retraced her steps through the murk, finding Ngo quickly and taking his hand. The fog seemed to clear ahead of them as they swished through the damp grass. They reached the plateau within minutes, heading back to the city. Soon the fog had lifted and they spotted the glint of the golden domes of Namu in the distance ahead. Zhura gave silent thanks to the Ancestors.

Barasa and his askari, perhaps still lost in the pale cerulean mists, were nowhere to be seen.

*

"These are beautiful!" Amina held up a yellow kanga with leaf green twirls. "Don't get dust on them, husband."

Kaj stopped sweeping charcoal, sand and cooled bits of iron slag across the hard-packed dirt, even though the day's absence of rain and mud had given him a rare opportunity. He mused, leaning upon the haft of the broom as his wife pored through the basket of gifts Zhura had brought.

The rain had subsided during the morning, before Zhura's encounter with Barasa, and city folk were enjoying the respite. The sounds of chatter and singing carried over the compound walls.

The rear of the couple's yard now held three working bloomeries -- chimney-topped ovens shaped much like a termite mound. They were small compared to old Menga's smithy. Kaj's father had furnaces large enough to stand in. But Kaj was finding success. He already taken on a young apprentice, and over the past months, Amina had helped drum up his trade.

Zhura couldn't help but feel a tug of sadness as she watched them. They were her oldest friends. Without them she never would have made it so far. It hurt to leave.

"I wish I could see your child. I wish I could bring it into this world."

"You will see my child... Auntie Zhura," Amina giggled. "The moment you return from the west."

Zhura smiled, remembering Mama Nyah's foretelling. It seemed, at least, assured that they would have the baby safely.

"Sometimes I feel its soul has already been born. I catch a glimpse of a little shadow skittering along the wall. Sometimes I hear a child's footsteps in the yard. It will be a playful baby, I can tell."

"Grigiri District is overrun with cats and mice," Kaj chuckled. "That's all it is. Are you prepared for your journey?"

He had put on weight in the past months, especially around his arms, shoulders and the bit of paunch around his middle. Another sign that his trade was going well. He'd grown out his beard, which gave his rounded face a more amiable appearance than ever.

"Bayati and Ngo have gathered the supplies. We're traveling light. We'll follow Dugong Marsh inland for the first day, before we pick up the west road back to Bindi. It's the surest way to avoid being seen or followed."

She said nothing of Keya.

Zhura went to embrace Amina, careful not to pressure her bulging belly. She slid down slowly to kneel on the ground, ear to the womb. She imagined she could hear the baby within. "I'm sorry, little one."

It was even more painful that she couldn't tell them the truth about why she was leaving. All she'd said to Amina and Kaj was that it was safest for those close to her. She'd never hidden anything from them before. But knowing about Keya could only put them in danger.

They may have guessed that Zhura's reasons for leaving had something to do with the antagonism between the two most powerful noble Houses in the city. Everyone knew Lady Oko had thrown herself off Silmani Point. Some said she killed herself because she was a witch. Others said she did it because she was innocent. A wild rumor Zhura had heard at the Orchid claimed that Keya was plotting with an army of demons to take over the city, and chose death rather than discovery. Either way, relations between San and Oko were beyond tense.

Amina gently drew Zhura back to standing. "Come inside," she waddled towards the couple's hut, as Kaj picked up the basket. "There is still much to be said."

A few minutes later, the three friends sat in wicker chairs with warm tea. The small living space was only used for eating and entertaining when it was rainy outside. The mudbrick walls were hung with empty gourds, drying clothing and fragrant grasses.

Zhura sipped from the honeyed tea. "If you have any trouble, go to Hani at the Orchid. She has connections with the Shadow Jackals."

Kaj gave his wife a sidelong glance.

"That one is too clever for her own good," Amina said. "We'll be fine, Zhura."

"We have friends amongst some of the farmers. I make them scythe and shovel blades. And our neighbors, too," Kaj said. "My apprentice is a boy from just down the road. We don't need House San anymore."

"Zhura, you have become mighty, both in strength and in spirit. We could not have come to Namu without you. You have saved the lives of so many people. There is no need for you to apologize to us," Amina said. "After everything you've done, you must realize that no one but you has the power to shape who you are, no matter what they know of your ancestry."

Kaj rubbed his worn, callused hands. "Not even your true father."

It had always been in the back of Zhura's mind to confront King Yende of Morore. The man had given her away as an infant, and kept her origins a secret.

"Many will try to harness your strength for their own ends. Like the witch Ntoza and Barasa San," Amina said. "There will be others. You must beware who you trust."

Zhura remembered how the three of them had set out together from the village of Boma. Only one year had passed since then, but it seemed like many.

Without the wisdom and love of her friends, her path would have been very different. She might not have survived at all. She felt a trickle down her cheek, and tasted a salty tear.

Amina eased forward in her chair. At another time, she might have risen, but at eight months pregnant, that was not a simple proposition. "Come here, my friend."

Zhura crossed the few steps between them and knelt down before Amina. Amina's slender hand cradled Zhura's jaw, drawing her into a lingering kiss. As their lips caressed each other, she heard Kaj's footsteps behind her. She reached out to pull him down to the floor with her, and kissed him too. Zhura shared kisses with the couple, as if she were passing a message back and forth.

Meanwhile, their hands roamed over her. Kaj massaged her neck and collarbone, dipping into the top of her halter, while Amina stroked up Zhura's thighs and under her brief wrap skirt. Zhura grew warmer, almost drunk on their kisses. Her clothing, loosened, fell to the floor.

Boma had stopped feeling like home the day Zhura learned that her mother and father had never lived there. She had always been an outcast, loved by a few, tolerated by the rest.

The night she left Boma, she took Amina and Kaj as lovers for the first time. She never felt more of a sense of belonging than when she was on the road, sharing her nights and her fate with her only friends.

Zhura bent to push up Amina's skirt, and hungrily began kissing her way up the insides of her friend's thighs. As was her custom, the pregnant woman was naked underneath. She sighed, lying back in the chair and spreading her legs wider. Kaj's cock flopped heavily on Zhura's backside and began to slide back and forth along the crevice of her ass. Zhura arched her back, welcoming him into her yoni.

Finally, she felt the head of his cock nudging against her wet folds. She groaned, her voice muffled by Amina's swollen nether lips, as he slid his manhood into her, driving it home like he belonged there. That image fit so well with the peculiar emotion that nearly overwhelmed her. Home.

Finally, she was home.

*

Keya's lips trailed up the length of Blossom's ebon shaft. She marveled at its smoothness. Its woody char flavor was still strong underneath the tang of her own juices. The head of Blossom's cock swelled instead of flaring, more like a stamen than a mushroom. She licked around the neck, noting the demon's purr of pleasure in response. She held the firm stalk at its base, pale skin on black, fingers stretching only halfway around its girth. His clawed hand played in her bush of hair, rubbing her scalp.

She had come to love this risky game, taking the creature's cock into her mouth, teasing Blossom, knowing that if the demon came down her throat she would be charmed by it, bound to servitude for days. Keya was just about to climb atop Blossom and ride the demon again, when it spoke.

"The witch comes," Blossom reclined against the wall of the underground hideout.

Keya heard the scraping sounds of Zhura climbing down the shaft. She drew her head out of Blossom's lap, but her hand continued to idly stroke its cock. Her gown was rucked up to her thighs, toggles on the front open down beneath her breasts, but she left it that way.

She had transformed the little chamber in two days, impressing upon Zhura to have more candles for light, as well as dashes of rose petals and fennel seed from the Orchid for freshening the scent. The dank odor of age was well masked, most of all by Blossom's smoky jasmine fragrance.

Zhura crept from the shaft entrance and stood, barefoot, in the raffia that covered the floor. She eyed Keya and Blossom for an instant, then adjusted her scrap of a skirt. Her braids were loose and askew. She pushed them away from her face. "Am I interrupting?"

"By no means," Blossom replied smoothly. "Join us."

"I was just saying farewell to my demon friend." Zhura ignored the invitation. She kept her distance from the infernal and its intoxicating scent.

"We heard you screaming," said Keya, with a mischievous grin.

Zhura glanced down in slight embarrassment. "I have been... saying farewell to others since yesterday evening." She sat on the floor and tied her braids back, moving gingerly, as if sore.

Keya's gaze was immediately drawn to the shadow between Zhura's thighs, to glistening brown skin there, marked with whitish smears. Perhaps Keya had finally found a human companion as wanton as herself.

It was such an odd thing, how she and Zhura had rutted each other... and yet, they hadn't, not of their own will. Their demonic entanglements were so much the same, and yet Zhura kept this emotional wall up between them.

"I need to ask again," Zhura said, looking at Blossom. "Will the sanju be safe?"

"If you mean safe from the summoning stone, yes."

"But if it comes within range of the summoning stone, can it be bound again?"

"Distance is irrelevant, if the possessor of the stone does not know the sanju's name," said Blossom. "The demon is banished through the portal of the stone by uttering its true name. Once banished, it can be summoned back through the stone. If it has not been banished, it cannot be summoned."

Zhura nodded. "That is how it happened before. The sanju was too far away to hear me, and I hadn't banished it. So the stone was useless. Barasa does not know the true name, so the stone should be useless for him as well."

"From what I have seen and heard of your adventures," Blossom offered, "your sanju will be safer without you than with you. Do not worry for the beast."

"I have thought as much." Zhura eyed Keya. "May we speak?"

Blossom scowled, apparently expecting the conversation would end in another way.

"Leave us," Keya said to the infernal.

She matched the demon's stare. Her threat was implicit, but obvious. Else I will speak your true name in front of Zhura.

Anger rippled across Blossom's fine features, but the demon finally rose and slunk from the chamber. As graceful as a shadow, it climbed up the shaft towards the ruined cityscape.

Zhura chewed on her lip, watching Keya for several uncomfortable moments. "What is it you want?"

"I don't understand. What do I want?"

"You're free of your noble House. Whatever you write about me or demons will be read by no one, since Keya Oko no longer lives. You can bear your child and learn as much as you wish from Blossom. Just have your demon enthrall a few others, and you will gather guards and servants as you please. So," Zhura said, "what is it you want from me?"

Keya folded her hands, thinking. Didn't Zhura feel the bond between them? The herb-witch's quest was the mirror to Keya's life's work.

"Blossom may sire my child. But I am human. I cannot remain with that creature. If I do, one day I will lose myself. And I will not aid it in making permanent slaves. Never."

Zhura didn't respond. She studied the priestess, as if waiting for her to say more.

She doesn't trust me. She wonders who is in control - me or Blossom.

"Don't you feel what is between us, Zhura? After our night with the Ancestors?"

Zhura ignored the question. "I believe you are dangerous. Not by your own intent, but by your nature."

"That's not fair! Three days ago you protested to Mama Nyah that you shouldn't be judged for your ancestry, yet now you do the same to me? I've given up everything I could!" Keya found herself wringing her hands, staring at Zhura as if across a gorge that lay between them. "I can only be who I am. If you believe I should change my nature, then just let me go."

Zhura broke the stare, looking down. "You're right. It isn't fair," she sighed. "Barasa San isn't convinced you're dead."

"What?" Zhura had told Keya about the meeting, and the arcane fog that might have saved her. But not about this. "What did he say?"

"It wasn't what he said, but how he said it. As if your death was only a rumor."

"He may have spies in House Oko, but he has no way of knowing directly," Keya said. "Someone must have told him something to make him doubt my death."

"Someone close to you. Someone who was there that night, or who has been searching for your body," Zhura suggested.

Keya gasped as the full import of this struck her. "I am dangerous," she whispered in a small voice.

The two women dropped into an uncomfortable silence.

"By the Seven Fathers." Zhura moved over to a wall and began arranging mats to sleep on. "You may be dangerous, but you're my friend. Come, get some sleep. We meet Bayati and Ngo on the beach at dawn. It will be a long day's slog through Dugong Marsh."

Keya was only dimly aware of the other woman's words. The raffia fronds covering the floor glowed yellow in the candlelight. Even in her despair, she noticed the patter from above as the rain began to fall again.

Who was there the night she went over the cliff? Who knew her better than anyone, and who would have searched tirelessly to find her dead body?

Jinai.

***