“Is that so, Hezram?” Azizi said, calm water.

“They lie,” Hezram replied.

“I escaped one of your cells this afternoon,” Meera insisted.

“Show us these wounds,” Money shouted. A chain of coins and cowries at his waist rattled. Ernold, Water, and others chimed in. They wanted the women to strip naked.

“Is this a reasonable request?” Grain asked. Pale eyes in dark skin looked spectral.

“Denial is a drug we’ve sucked too long.” Djola’s voice boomed and silence fell. “Where is Hezram’s proof?”

“Holy City’s prosperity is my proof,” Hezram replied.

“Holy City is in ruins because of you, Hezram.” Rokiat ran from the trees, his hair blowing around the wound on his cheek. Fannie, Bibi, and other warhorses charged behind him, rearing and snorting battle cries. The crowd gasped. “I’m a witness too,” he shouted.

Jod gripped his sword.

“Rokiat saved me from Jod today.” Meera was exaggerating. Jod attacked her and she sliced him. Acolytes pummeled each other to get to her. In the confusion, Rokiat locked her up for blood conjure. Jod had to find someone else to abuse. But when Rokiat repeated Meera’s stories, everyone groaned, as if hearing the horrors for the first time.

“Horse master, you have a beautiful voice. It rings with truth.” Tembe’s praise was soft and sweet as ripe mango. Meera clung to Rokiat, admiring him too. “Still—”

“We must condemn Hezram, not invite him to the table.” Grain stepped forward, beating a talking drum. Hezram’s supporters stiffened. Arms drew his sword.

Hezram jumped up in front of Awa. “I know you.”

“You know nothing,” Meera snarled.

“I hear your father sold you to Green Elders and your transgressor mother to the huts.”

Awa gaped from Mother to Father to Azizi. Who told?

“I know you smoke-walk and desecrate sacred ground, and, because of you, the void leaks into the everyday and poisons our lives.” A wily move to blame Awa for what he did. “Every afternoon we are devastated, because of you and other transgressors.” The faithful cursed Awa and other abominations. The undecided wavered—Hezram was a compelling spectacle. “Your gate-spell would leave Arkhys City vulnerable.” He circled Awa. “My spell would require blood sacrifice, yes, but it would hold back the poison desert.”

Soot crept up, growling at Awa’s side.

Hezram stepped back. “Call off your wolf or he loses his head.”

“Not my dog,” she said as Soot licked her hand. “Soot belongs to himself.” Still, she clutched a handful of hair at the back of Soot’s neck to prevent a lunge.

“Green Elder nonsense.” Hezram hooted and the audience joined him. “Do you believe rivers and forests live and mountains too? Do they talk to you?”

Awa’s heart pounded. “Not the mountains. I’m not an Iyalawo…” Djembe drums drowned out her thoughts. She choked on her own tongue.