By Sun Page 14

  Eyes closed, Lucy slowed her breathing and held out her palms to feel the summer morning air.

  She allowed her twinned attention to deepen and expand. She reached and felt them more keenly then: The witches. The brujas. They were preparing, in cities around the country, and down in Mexico. If she was still enough inside, she could even feel traces of witches in Albania, and Somalia, and places that she could not even name. She had no idea how they had connected in to this but felt grateful they were there.

  She sent a breath along the great web that linked them all, and felt each nexus point light up briefly.

  “They’re ready, Mother.” And so were Lucy and Tonantzin.

  Lucy opened her eyes again and smiled. She and Tonantzin smiled at the sun, and the breeze, and the mighty river. They smiled at all the bridges that spanned this section of the river, and the racing boats, and the sailboats. Lucy smiled at the birds hunting on the water. And at the cars, and the drivers of the cars.

  For she was the Goddess, and these were her people, whether they knew it or not. She was the mother, the protector, the crusher of evil.

  And she would bring her children home.

  32

  Jack

  Jack, Moss, and their crew walked from the streetcar toward Caruthers Park. A scant few blocks from the Willamette, the park was a two-block green space in the midst of several gleaming residential high rises and the Oregon Health and Science University annex.

  As they made their way up one of the paved walkways into the park, Jack caught sight of Raquel and her boyfriend, Charlie, just over the rise. Charlie totally looked like comic book Thor, which cracked Jack up every time he saw the guy.

  He saw the other coven members and their friends and partners. Cassiel and Joe, Brenda and Caroline, Tobias and Aiden. Selene and Joshua. Tempest was minding Brenda’s shop, and Alejandro was with the hackers. The witches were with what must be some other Pagans, and some activist types. There was one tall, skinny, mixed-race guy that Jack had seen around before. He thought his name was Tariq.

  Several other groups milled about, conferring, drinking water, stretching, or eating nuts and protein bars. One thing Jack was surprised to not see were a bunch of cops. That was good. Maybe the last-minute nature of the action meant they weren’t on radar. Not yet, at least.

  He supposed that was one advantage of having done none of the organizing over social media. It was all word of mouth. Apparently, it had to be for an action like this. Moss and Terra had explained that it was too risky, and frankly, too weird, to invite just anyone. The coven had built up enough cred over the years that trusted people came when they called. As a fledgling hacker, Jack appreciated the security culture, and wondered what it would be like to have that many different people trust you.

  He barely even had friends. But you’re changing that now, right?

  Following Moss toward Raquel, Jack found that he was nervous. Excited. His body wanted to move, and he had to force himself to stay with the group and not peel off and run the couple of blocks to the ICE building all on his own.

  Is that you, or me? He wasn’t sure yet if Lugh always listened but was trying to get used to at least asking. Another thing he’d need to check in with Alejandro about, once all of this was done.

  ::The untrained warrior either wishes to flee or rush screaming into battle. The trained warrior knows when to strike.::

  Well, that answered Jack’s question. It was him.

  “What’s the plan?” Moss asked Raquel. The witch had bound her dreadlocks back into a dark blue scarf and wore jeans, boots, and no jewelry.

  “The Aztec dancers are there now with a splinter of the Interfaith Coalition folks willing to risk arrest if necessary. They’re going to act as if they’re just doing a prayer and blessing service today.”

  “And then?” Moss asked. “Tariq?”

  “And then,” Tariq replied, “once the rooftop folks are in place, we stream in.” He glanced at his watch. “The Willamette Park folks should already be walking north.”

  “What are we supposed to do, though?” Jack asked in a burst. He felt stupid the moment the words left his mouth.

  Moss patted him on the shoulder. “Just remember what we practiced. Stay physically linked as much as you can and use the ground to help you. And most of all? Don’t worry. We’re just a distraction, that’s all.”

  “At least, we hope so,” Raquel said. Her voice was dry, and she wasn’t smiling.

  “Here comes Lucy,” Selene said.

  Jack turned, and there she was, cresting the small rise, looking like a warrior Goddess. She wore black boots, and black jeans hugged her long thighs. Her dark hair was loose, falling around her face, and the red T-shirt with a clenched fist on the front read La Raza.

  Jack’s mouth went dry. She was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Terrifying and beautiful.

  He felt Lugh stir inside of him, flexing his spear arm, ready for battle…or for something else.

  “Jack,” Lucy said when she got closer. Then she was right next to him, breath sweet, bare face even sweeter.

  “Lucy,” Jack replied. And then, without thinking, he touched the curve of her cheek, the place where the paint had spattered itself, showing him the pattern and the way. She leaned her face into his palm for just one second, then pulled away.

  He held his breath, just for a moment, before dropping his hand.

  Lucy walked on, into the tight circle of her coven, and the final conference began.

  Lugh? he thought.

  ::Stay focused.:: the God replied.

  33

  Lucy

  Seeing Jack standing there in his Superman T-shirt, still looking geeky but somehow also fierce, almost made Lucy stop in her tracks. Tonantzin prodded her forward. There was work to be done, and no time for whatever was going on inside Lucy’s head and heart. And certainly no time for the rush of lust she experienced at the sight of him.

  But despite still not trusting the situation with Jack one-hundred percent, Lucy all of a sudden wished there was time. She allowed herself one moment with him. One moment for him to cup her cheek, and for her to lean into his touch as if they had an understanding, instead of the maelstrom of emotional weirdness that actually existed between them.

  Then she forced herself to walk away. To not dwell on that one, sweet moment. She just had to hope they would get through this confrontation. This piece of wild, never-done-before magic. She could figure out the thing with Jack after. If there was an after.

  And she could channel her lust into the power needed for the coming battle.

  “Is everything ready?” She looked at Raquel and Tariq, and at her coven mates, and the activists she’d done so much organizing with in the past.

  She saw their faces now with her own eyes, yes, but also with the eyes of the Goddess. Her friends looked proud and strong. Determined. Lucy felt a huge upwelling of love and just barely stopped herself from lifting a hand in blessing. They wouldn’t understand that. Not coming from her.

  “The Aztec dancers just headed over to meet up with a small interfaith contingent. They’re backed up by the wheelchair and scooter crew. Members from two of the immigrants’ rights groups are walking up from Willamette Park about now,” Tariq said.

  “And Izel and some others are in place on the roof. They’re waiting for us,” Brenda said. Brenda and Selene would be lending their magic to the web, linking with Lucy and the others. The rest of the coven would hold down the magic on the street, and do their best to act as conduits between the larger working orchestrated by Lucy, and the proximate action in front of the building itself.

  What exactly was going to happen at the buildings around the country, Lucy wasn’t sure. No one was. They were just going to have to trust that the hackers had things under control, that the thing with the brujas would work, and that no one would get hurt.

  There were a lot of what-ifs at play, but that was life, right?

  Raquel spoke up. “We’ll head ou
t as soon as you signal that you’re in place. And Lucy?” Raquel held out her arms. Lucy walked into the embrace of her coven sister and mentor, inhaling the amber and cocoa butter Raquelness of her. “Stay safe, sister. And stay strong.”

  Lucy blinked back tears and squeezed Raquel tightly. Then both women let go. Lucy stepped back and cleared her throat.

  She and Tonantzin were as ready as they were going to get.

  “Okay,” Lucy said, turning to Brenda and Selene. “Let’s do this.”

  34

  Jack

  Jack watched Lucy walk out of the park, straight-backed, black hair like a banner shining in the sun, followed by Brenda and Selene. And then, in a flurry of movement, there was no time left to think.

  Following the lead of the people getting into formation around him, Jack tied a bandana around his neck, at the ready in case he needed it. It wouldn’t keep him protected from tear gas or pepper spray, but Moss said it would help create a small pocket of air that would hopefully keep him going until he could get away. It would also keep the cops from filming his face.

  Some of the coven member’s partners—Caroline, Joshua, and Aiden—had volunteered to stay in the park with water and snacks, providing a safe space for anyone who needed it. There were also street medics on standby, just in case.

  Jack really hoped they wouldn’t be needed. Lugh didn’t seem to care. As a matter of fact, Jack could feel that the God was pumped for action now, almost spoiling for a fight.

  Lugh? I really don’t feel like getting injured, okay? You gave me the courage I needed to show up here today, but…

  Marta, the woman he’d trained with the day before, bounced up to him looking practically feral. When she’d shown up at his house that morning, she’d still been half asleep. She didn’t look tired at all anymore.

  “Hey, Jack! You ready to rumble?”

  “I guess so,” he replied. He felt the God recede, as if Lugh’s attention had turned elsewhere.

  Marta wiped her hands on the thighs of her patched-up black jeans.

  “It doesn’t matter how prepared I am, I always start to sweat before any confrontation. It’s a pain in the ass,” she said.

  Jack just nodded, wishing he had his water bottle. He’d asked Moss about it and Moss had said he could bring a bag with supplies and risk being weighed down by it, or having it used against him. Or he could run lean, and risk getting dehydrated or hungry.

  Jack decided to risk going hungry, but admitted he felt relieved that snacks would be available in the park. Terra had chimed in saying that the medics would have water at the action itself, if it was an emergency.

  Main thing was, he felt almost naked without his messenger bag and phone. All he had was the bandana around his neck, his house keys, and ID in his front pocket. But that sense of nakedness also meant that for the first time in his life, Jack felt almost free. He felt tears pricking at the edges of his eyes. How long had he been asleep, hiding behind his computer screens, living half a life?

  Terra stood up on a milk crate in the middle of the growing crowd. There were at least a hundred and fifty people in the park now, which surprised Jack. He turned to Marta.

  “Isn’t this a lot of people for what’s supposed to be a small action?”

  “Hell no,” Marta said. “Mass actions are anywhere between a thousand and ten K.”

  Damn. Jack had no clue.

  “And more people are joining us. Should be a few hundred, today, maybe more.”

  Terra waved her arms and people stopped talking.

  “Okay, comrades! The brujas are in place, Rabbi Judy blew the shofar, and the Aztec dancers are blessing the space. Stay tight. Don’t panic. Make sure you have at least one person you’re looking out for and who’s looking out for you. We have five medics out today. Look for them if you or someone in your crew need anything. Medics, raise your hands?”

  Four men and women and one person whose gender Jack couldn’t place stepped up. They had big red tape crosses on their T-shirts, backpacks, and messenger bags.

  “Thank you,” Terra said. Her eyes swept the crowd, addressing the people gathered as if she was talking directly to each of them. Jack could see why people trusted her. “Okay people, stay safe, but stay strong, all right? Remember your training. We’re here as a distraction, but that doesn’t mean some shit won’t go down. This is a pretty volatile operation and we’re not sure what’s going to happen. If you need to, at any point, get to safety. Don’t be heroes.”

  Then he saw him. A tall, tan man with hair like flickering lightning, staring straight at him. The man nodded, pulled a green bandana over his mouth and nose, then raised one fist.

  Jack was riveted to the pathway, barely aware of the people jostling his shoulders as they passed.

  “Lugh?” he murmured. How? How was he walking the street like that?

  “Jack? Hey!” Marta snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Don’t freak out on me. You’re going to be okay. Just stick close to me if you can.”

  Jack nodded, as if he agreed with her. As if he understood that yes, he was going to be okay.

  Except all of a sudden, he wasn’t certain anymore. If Lugh was really walking around somewhere in this crowd, it meant Jack was going into battle without the God at his back. Jack felt his courage waver, just for a moment, before he remembered to feel the ground under his feet, and to tap into the power of the sky.

  He took a breath, just the way Moss taught him to.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’m ready.”

  Ready as he could be. Just a man, surrounded by people who knew a lot more about confronting danger than he did.

  And it was too late to back out now.

  35

  Lucy

  An associate of Alejandro’s had a top apartment in the fancy six-story complex catty-corner to the ICE building. The guy also had roof access.

  That was where the brujas were. As Lucy walked through the door onto the roof, Selene and Brenda behind her, she felt a calm descend. Any butterflies and hesitation vanished, blown away by the wind off the river to the east.

  Beyond a seating area with a barbecue grill, lounge chairs, and a closed umbrella, were the three brujas from Gresham. Waiting, almost still as statues. Izel sat in a folding chair, cane at her side. Lucy wondered where they’d left her scooter.

  On the ground in front of the brujas was a shallow wooden bowl filled with red rose petals. In an abalone shell, copal burned. A matching shell shimmered with an offering of water.

  All was in readiness. The Goddess inside of Lucy’s body was pleased.

  ::These brujas know the proper way of things.::

  Lucy bowed to Izel, Valeria, and Jimena. All three witches bowed back, in return. They honored Tonantzin, who rapidly stepped further forward, claiming more of Lucy’s consciousness. Fearing a repeat of the inner struggle they’d had at Brenda’s shop, Lucy fought to maintain some of her own control, but La Madre was an unstoppable force. Gentle, firm, the Goddess moved like a glacier through Lucy, carving space for herself as she went.

  Bit by bit, Lucy’s personality—her wants and needs and opinions—receded to the background once again, moving deeper and deeper as though a canyon had opened inside her. Her awareness tumbled down.

  She was present enough to maintain a dim awareness, and to direct the psychometry, but not much else.

  ::That is what I need you for, mija. You body, and your magic, and your hands.::

  But… The thought was weak, and only half formed. Lucy fought to maintain consciousness, to see through her own eyes, and feel the summer heat on her skin.

  Damn it. It seemed that doubled consciousness wasn’t enough for Tonantzin. She wanted it all.

  Tonantzin sniffed the air and smiled. The brujas bowed again. The Goddess strode to the balustrade, boots ringing on the rooftop. Tonantzin looked over the edge, down to the ICE complex. Lucy saw a sniper in tan camo and a black balaclava who stood on a small, lower-level rooftop opposite a small, gl
assed-in guard station. It was the roof over the main entrance that wrapped around the building. Just beyond that were the white-painted iron electric gates. A small white bus sat waiting. Tonantzin hissed at the sight of it, a long, low, sibilant sound.

  Lucy’s consciousness stirred and rose, crawling its way toward the surface.

  In a rush, through a sudden sharp tingling in her hands, Lucy felt the terror that stank up the inside of the bus, the ghostly psychic trails from all of the people forced into transport. Her psychometry pulsed, increased by some great measure. She had never picked things up at such a distance. But now? It was as if her hands could feel the vinyl of the bus seats, and the cold, unyielding plexiglass of the tinted windows. She could almost taste the fear. The Goddess snapped Lucy’s teeth together, growling.

  Through Lucy’s eyes, Tonantzin scanned the main rooftop, which sat higher than the low roof, but still beneath where Lucy and the witches stood. No snipers there. Good. Finally, her gaze swept downward, toward the dancers, whose tall pheasant and macaw feather headdresses swayed and snapped and bobbed. The dancers whirled and crouched, shaking rattles, feet tracing patterns on the black tarmac of the street. Activists in wheelchairs and electric scooters clustered in a half arc closest to the dancers. Opposite them, forming the slender second half of the circle, were members of the Interfaith Coalition. Other groups of activists still streamed toward the gathering, forming arcs behind the ’chairs.

  More DHS police had arrayed themselves in front of the glass doors and the white iron gate. Black riot gear covered their navy uniforms. Helmets. Vests. Leg pads. The black was echoed in the tall mesh fences that half blocked the sidewalk running up the hill toward the busy Bancroft and Macadam intersection and in the black masks and clothing of the Black Bloc anarchists.