We walked up the street of Leptis in the middle of a procession. The crowd seemed excited. You would have thought Connor and his squad had snatched us from the jaws of death rather than a beach-side camp.
At the top of the street was a large open space in the middle of which two bonfires burned quite close to each other. The crowd spread out around the square but about half of them jostled us closer. They spoke all kinds of tongues but some of them seemed to be placing bets, the others wishing us luck.
On the other side of the flames a tall man stood, situated so that we could only see him through that gap between the fires. He seemed impossibly tall, a bald man, lean and tan, with very wide hands and long strong fingers. It may have been the wavering light but his eyes and skin seemed to gleam.
The crowd gave him deference. This must be the priest. Behind him steps led up into a dark wooden building. I presumed it was the headquarters of the camp. Connor strode through the gap between the fires and knelt in the smaller space before priest and building both.
“Baru Pierre, as commanded, I bring you Arrivals from Earth!”
His words were clear and loud. They had the air of ritual, as if more for the crowd than us.
“There are seven,” I saw the tall man murmur.
Connor nodded, and said something something to him quietly with a single glance back at us.
“No matter,” the priest said more loudly.
He dismissed Conner with a brief shoulder grip then turned to us and spoke. His voice was rich, resonant, and deep. It kind of flowed... like he was French? The words rolled easily through the flames to where we huddled uncertain.
“Welcome to the Island! We are the Kigali! You may not have Arrived by choice but we offer you refuge from the monsters and the darkness. Join us! Receive the mark of Tiamat! She will bless you, protect you, and bring you plenty.”
A beat of silence, and then.
“Who will be the first to walk through the flames?”
I saw that we much each pass between the bonfires like Connor did to reach this priest. A trial of sorts. It probably wasn’t actually that dangerous. The fires were a few meters apart. But with our exhaustion, with the excited crowd pushing in on us, and the a big drum thumping out there somewhere in the dark, it seemed like stepping off a cliff.
We kind of jostled in on each other: Andy, Chloe, Vanessa, Ryan, Eric, Jan, and me. Strangers thrown together, now hemmed in and confused. I for one was feeling close to panic. The skin on the inside of my left forearm still seemed clear of symbols but Andy had sworn he’d seen scales there, silvery and marine blue. A magical, disappearing tattoo. A ‘mark’ if you will.
Hell knows enough other changes had happened within me since I Devoured that lizard-fish. I did not doubt Andy. I bet this ‘mark of Tiamat’ of which the priest spoke was the band of virulent green talons and fangs I could see circling every tribesperson’s arms or neck. I bet that whoever, or whatever, this Tiamat was she would not be willing to grant her blessing to a soul that was already taken.
Jostled in among the others I struggled to keep my breathing straight. I needed a way out. I don’t think I’d ever been inclined to feel crowd phobic, but in this one I certainly was. It felt like I was being crushed.
None of the others seemed inclined to take the obvious route at first. The line of the priest’s mouth flattened. He pointed through the flames. He pointed right at Eric.
“You! Will you be the first to brave the flames for salvation?”
“Fuck no!”
“What?” The priest’s thin eyebrows rose, but he’d made a bad choice. The old truckie uncrossed his meaty arms. He pointed a thick finger at the priest.
“You heard me cunt! I’m not joining a cult! Just fuckin let me out and I’ll make it on me own!”
The tall man stared at incredulously at Eric for several moments. Then he shrugged.
“Tant pis,” he said and waved his hand. "Very well."
The crowd parted and Eric pushed through. We all looked at each other for a second and Jan and I tried to follow but the crowd closed us back in. They closed on Eric too before he''d gone more than a dozen steps. Tribals grabbed him from either side.
“Get off me! Let me go! Let me go fuck ya!”
They dragged Eric off. I swear we rushed to help but it was like pushing into a wall. Those tribesfolk piled onto us. There were too many of them and they were all too strong. Andy got put in a headlock. Ryan got slammed to the dirt. Even Jan got tackled and Vanessa forced back. I almost slipped in among their legs, my world all elbows and shins, but a big Asian looking woman punched me in the side of the head. My world flashed black. I went sprawling among their feet. Other hands caught me. They dragged me back to the middle of the crowd, the priest and his trial of the flames.
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Half a minute of violence later and we were all lying or crouching or standing right back where we started. Except for Eric of course. I’ve no idea where he went. The crowd around us seemed a lot less friendly now with our little breakout aborted. Some of them had rifles unslung and looked just about ready to shoot.
We’d never stood a chance. These were hunters and soldiers, hardened to Island and a life of violent work. We were just a bunch of disorientated city folk. I know I’d been proud that my culture was rough and I thought the others were too, but we were fucked coming up against folk for whom everyday life was brutal.
“Well,” the priest said in his sort of French accent when the crowd had settled to silence again. “I repeat my offer. Which of you will be the first to take my hand?”
Ryan was still pinned face down. I was lying curled, breathing against the pain and wondering if my nose was broken. Someone had kicked me while I was fetal too and that didn''t help as well. It was Chloe who raised her voice.
“I’ll do it.”
Andy protested. He would have tried to stop her but the tribals held him back.
Released by her captors Chloe stood straight. With one last glance at the rest of us she walked between the flames. She stepped through quickly and was not burned. Emerging into the space before the priest she stopped as if asking what was next. Curtained from us by fire the priest looked down at her. He really was inhumanly tall. In the unsteady light it seemed like he swayed.
“Remove your shirt.” His voice was level and quieter as if just for her, but it carried all the same.
Chloe froze. Andy struggled, and was quickly put down. Then with quick, nervous, movements the young woman lifted the hem of her stretchy top and pulled it over her head. Standing in leggings and what was really quite a modest sports bra she stood beyond fire before the priest and a hundred other tribals with her shirt in her hand and her shoulders squared in defiance.
The priest smiled. He did not ask her to remove anything else but lay one of his long, almost talon fingered hands over each of her now bare shoulders.
“Close your eyes and concentrate,” he told her. “Try to take what I offer.”
He closed his eyes himself.. They were still for a moment. The crowd around us tensed. Then Chloe jerked as if stung. She staggered a step and I knew that her world was spinning.
Fuck! I thought. Fuck, shit, fuck fuck shit fuck. This really was the same as me and that fish-lizard thing.
A green mark appeared around Chloe’s left bicep, vivid and virulent, talons and curving fangs. The tribals around us let out their breaths. Some of them cheered. I fought against a feeling of doom as some of them helped Chloe off to the side and the priest turned to us again, raising his palms for quiet.
“Who will be next to brave the trial?”
Andy raised his head. “Me! Let me up. I’ll try!”
The men and women holding Andy helped him up. One of them, a big black bearded fellow who looked Middle Eastern even clapped him on the back and wished him the best of luck. Pulling off his white collared shirt Andy strode between the fires. On the other side he took one long look at Chloe and then stopped before the priest.
“I’m ready,” he said.
The priest smiled again. “You have heard my instruction?”
Andy nodded.
“Then concentrate,” he said to Andy. “Try to receive what I offer.”
He closed his hands over Andy’s bare shoulders and for a moment they both were still. Then Andy jerked and his knees buckled. The vivid green band of fangs appeared around his throat.
The whole crowd cheered this time. The tribals let Ryan up. He checked on Vanessa who shook her head. It was actually Jan who volunteered next. She braved the flames like an unsteady battleship, but once she stood before the priest she removed her blouse and shirt with a quiet dignity. The old woman stood before us all in slacks, an old fashioned bra, and a couple of rolls of fat.
The priest''s smile for her was gentle as he repeated his instructions. When his hands closed over her shoulders she bowed her head. A moment later she staggered. The green mark appeared across her chest, just above her cleavage.
Only Vanessa, Ryan, and I were left. Ryan whispered something to her but Vanessa shook her head.
“You first,” she said. “I’ll come next. I promise. I’m just not quite ready yet.”
Then they both turned to me as if remembering I was there.
“It’s fine,” I waved them on. “You two go ahead.”
I was still looking around for some way, any way, that I could possibly escape.
Ryan carefully unbuttoned his shirt. The man was ripped. He must have been used to spending hours in the gym, although I thought now that he could fight as well. The fires did not bother him. Ryan went through it as if setting an example. He bowed before the priest who wiped sweat from his brow before placing his hands over Ryan’s shoulders. It occurred to me to wonder if what the priest did cost him effort.
After a couple of seconds Ryan’s knees folded. The mark appeared across his forehead, the same as on the priest, and the crowd gasped.
“Four of six!” I heard one tribesman tell another in some kind of South American accent. “A very good intake!”
But there’s seven of us! I though to myself, wild eyed, suppressing another spurt of panic.
Vanessa looked like she wanted to let me go first. I waved her off and gestured for her to go ahead.
"Really," I said. "Take the chance."
She sighed and then nodded once. Like Ryan she was very careful undoing her buttons. Her blouse looked expensive. In torn stockings and pencil skirt she trod the path between fires. Her bra was black and surprisingly racy. She was the tallest and most beautiful of all of us.
The priest smiled for her as for all the others and repeated his instructions. As he placed his hands she lowered her head and for a long moment they both stood motionless.
Nothing happened.
The moment stretched. The crowd around me grew restless. Then Vanessa jerked.
“Ow!” she said and grabbed her arm.
She did not sag. She did not faint. No colour emerged. It was hard to see through the flames but it looked like she’d been burned.
The priest opened his eyes and lifted his grip.
“What happened?” Vanessa asked him. “Why is it like this?”
“You are a failure,” he said, still gentle.
Then he shrugged and gestured for some tribals, a man and a woman, who came to drag her off.
“No!” she shouted as they lay hands on her. “Don’t do this! Give me another chance. Ryan! Andy! Jan!”
But our friends were laid out to the side, all of them unconscious. I tried to fight my way over to help her but the tribals around were ready for it. Monstrous presences, dense with essence. They held my arms back and lifted me from my feet no matter how much I pulled or kicked.
I’d never felt so helpless as I did listening to Vanessa’s screams without being able to move an inch. They dragged her away, somewhere into the lower camp, probably wherever they''d taken Eric. The tribesfolk restraining me were saying various things in various accents even as I struggled to get free of them.
“A waste.”
“A failure.”
"Not worth it."
“Don’t blow you chances of getting a blessing.”
The priest however wasn''t offering anything. He drew himself up and pointed through the flames.
“Bring that one to me!”