I See Fire | Wattys 2021/22 Shortlist | ✔

Chapter Sixty-Two

"Grillo Negro! Tepepia!"

Abraham's voice brought a pause to the music and an expectant hush to the crowd. The cookfires crackled merrily into the soft night, harmonizing with the cricket baskets and the bewildered sounds of turkeys in the shadows. Sparks danced up to wink out among the stars. People shuffled to face the center of the space beside the fires.

Abraham had forsaken his usual choice of a podium. Not because there wasn't one—there was a lovely rock in the village center that all the kids loved to climb on—but because Izel had prodded him off it claiming that she needed it more than he did. Now they were the same height.

"Tepepia," said Abraham again. "Grillo Negro. Welcome. Welcome grandmothers and grandfathers, mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, aunts, uncles, cousins, gods. Welcome, friends. Welcome, family. Today, we are celebrating."

"Celebrating many things," continued Izel. "The return of our gods and the meeting of our villages. The defeat of one who would see it all destroyed, and the survival of the ones who could have fallen. The rise of a new sun and the honour we give the moon on her path through the night forever."

The villagers bowed their heads and crossed themselves in a moment of silence, an act that had become a ritual in the weeks following the battle. Nobody had protested. I suspected the gods appreciated it.

When heads lifted again, Izel still had the look of one with more to say. Instead, though, she nodded to Chal. They switched places. Chal grinned down at Abraham, who gave a wry smile.

The goddess cleared her throat. "Adriana."

My mouth fell open. We had talked about this, but not... well, they had never said it would be in front of everyone.

A cane prodded me from behind. "What, you thought you would get away without a village blessing?" came the creaky voice of tía Rosario. "Go on."

I walked to the space at the crowd's center in a daze. When I arrived, though, Chal just grinned wider. "And Jem."

I spun around. The villagers parted with a sparkle in their eyes that told me everyone had known about this but me. Lupe looked smug.

Jem measured his paces down the makeshift aisle. He had dressed up for the evening, and he kept one hand behind his back as he stopped in front of me. The corner of his mouth twitched. I realized mine was still hanging open, and shut it, my face flushing.

I spoke with everyone personally, he said in my head. No one had anything but love and encouragement, so we went ahead and made it a village ceremony.

My words weren't working anymore. The last pang I had felt about what we were doing melted away, and I dropped my head. Partly to hide my relief, but more so he couldn't see the tears that threatened my smile. Thank you.

Are you okay with it?

Of course I am.

He winked at Chal. Conspirator.

"Perfect," said the goddess. "Shall we proceed, then?"

Jem reached out a hand, and I took it. Chal hopped off the rock and came around us, a hand on each of our shoulders. She turned us so she could face the crowd.

"Half-death is not a way of living," she said, "and eventually draws life away, both before its time and without allowing new life to flourish in the space between. There is, though, one way to circumvent it." She gave my shoulder a light squeeze. "Have you decided?"

"Home," I said. "And kids."

Her eyes twinkled warmly. She turned to Jem. "And you?"

"Medicine and doctors."