By Sun

by T Thorn Coyle

  Terra, a Black woman co-leading the training with Moss, shouted to make her voice heard.

  “The important thing is to not run. Running panics the people around you, and it also gives the cops even more of an excuse to swing, or as we saw a couple months ago, fire.”

  Jack had heard about that. During one of the recent skirmishes with white supremacists, an Antifa guy had taken a less-than-lethal to the head. The projectile had smashed through his skater’s helmet, cracking his skull and landing him in the hospital. Jack had also heard reports that other people were shot at close range with pepper balls and seen photos of the resulting bruises. His mouth went dry at the thought of facing that, but it still didn’t make him want to leave.

  “Okay, everybody, take a water break!” Moss called out. Jack gave the two men other either side of him a nod, jogged toward where he’d left his messenger bag, and yanked out his bottle. He nodded at a couple of people, then flopped to the ground and poured some water into his mouth.

  Am I doing the right thing? he thought, hoping the guy with the spear was listening.

  ::Stay firm in your convictions. Be stronger than you think you are. Carry the lighting. Cast the brightness of the sun. Bring it to the people.::

  The image of lightning striking ICE building in broad daylight filled Jack’s head. It was a strange image, because Portland rarely got electrical storms. Certainly not during summer. Maybe lightning was a metaphor. Maybe lightning was what he needed to strike his own life. It certainly felt that way right now, and the walls of isolation and complacency he’d built up had started tumbling.

  The intensity was only escalating.

  He reached for his old fears, but it felt like probing at a sore tooth. They were still there, that was for sure, but he found he just didn’t care much anymore

  “Ready?” The woman next to him spoke, startling him. She offered him a hand up.

  She was beautiful in a feral way, with short dark hair buzzed at the sides, and dark eyelashes contrasting with her pale skin and the natural rose color of her lips.

  “We starting up again? What are we working on?” Jack asked “Sorry, I got lost in thought a bit.”

  “We’re supposed to link up again and practice sitting,” she replied.

  Moss loped over then. “Hey Jack, hey Marta. One thing I’d like folks to work on is imagining that the earth is pulling you down, making you heavier than you really are.”

  Jack shrugged and said okay. He didn’t really know what Moss was talking about, but at this point it seemed he needed to be ready and willing to try anything.

  Linking arms through someone else’s and then sitting down from a standing position felt awkward, but once they were down, Jack did his best to follow Moss’s instructions. He imagined the grass under his legs and butt acting like a magnet, pulling him deeper, making him heavy. He tried to imagine what it would feel like to be a giant rock, immovable, impenetrable.

  After a a few tries, he began to like feeling so solid and huge. Strong. It felt like the antithesis to his soft, couch potato nerdiness.

  As Jack sat and breathed, he felt the spear at his back again, but this time, it felt like an offering, rather than a threat. He held out his unlinked hand and imagined he could feel the wooden shaft of the spear resting in his palm. Jack straightened up his spine and inhaled.

  I’m here, he thought. I’m not going anywhere. I just hope you really do have my back because I feel like I’m going to wake up tomorrow morning freaking out.

  He had run his whole life, and learning how not to run was one of the hardest things he could possibly do, but it also felt right.

  “Feels good, doesn’t it?” The woman next to him said. Marta, he reminded himself. Her name was Marta.

  Jack smiled at her, “Yeah, it’s pretty cool.”

  And then Moss’s voice cracked through the air again.

  “Okay people! I know I said don’t run, and tomorrow, we’re going to do our best not to, but holding formation and blockading is hard work, so I’d like to make sure we keep loose and strong. So everyone who is able to, run as fast you can to the trees and back three times. Ready, set, go!”

  Jack shook his head but started sprinting anyway. He pumped his arms and legs and let the wind of his own passage fill his lungs.

  He felt like this thing, whatever it turned out to be, just might be his destiny.

  27

  Lucy

  The back room at the Inner Eye was filled with people, some sitting on folding chairs, others on the floor. Lucy walked the outside edge of the circle, just behind the circle of chairs and near the curtained door. She couldn’t be blocked in this evening. Each time she passed the purple curtain, or the red and orange southern banner, they rippled in her wake.

  Lucy felt as if her head were on fire. She could barely keep her fingers from rubbing and scratching at her scalp. Instead, she paced the edges of the breakroom. She knew the pacing annoyed Moss for some reason—probably because a lot of his activist friends were in the room and she was being weird and witchy—and concerned Raquel, but she didn’t care.

  The only reason she was even at Brenda’s shop again was that if she hadn’t shown up, her head would have been on a platter instead of just in flames.

  Tonantzin rode Lucy hard, crashing through her consciousness, making her body twitch as if it was no longer her own. This was a full possessory state and the Goddess’s presence rested heavy inside of her. Head buzzing, Lucy drifted in and out of attention. Despite fighting to maintain her own space inside her own damn body, there was no question that Lucy’s personality was losing to the presence of Tonantzin. The Goddess was taking precedence inside of her, trying to shove Lucy into a smaller and smaller corner of her own mind.

  Lucy had never experienced anything even close to this. Tonantzin was too large, too strong, too bright. Lucy felt the Goddess practically bursting from her skin. And yet she was supposed to pay attention to a meeting, of all things.

  From across the room, she felt Izel’s eyes on her, and that bruja Valeria’s, too. She didn’t have time to even wonder what they were looking at. In Izel’s case at least, Lucy knew. The older bruja had to see La Madre’s brightness taking over.

  Lucy paced some more, barely aware of the murmur of voices, the calling to order, the strategizing about who was going to do what, and when. She felt as if she should be out in the streets, wielding a sword, or stomping on cops, or crushing serpents beneath bare brown feet.

  Oh, the organizer in her knew that meetings were necessary, but really? Right now?

  And then some words got through. Some words Tonantzin seemed interested in.

  “Some of the immigrant detainees being held in the state prison have gone on hunger strike,” said Tariq, who was working with the Sons of Sàngó, helping to coordinate people on the ground. “We’ve also gotten word that many of the already incarcerated men are joining them on hunger strike, and that others have threatened a work strike until the detainees are allowed legal counsel.”

  “That’s some solidarity,” Lucy heard Moss reply.

  “Indeed,” Tariq replied. “But now we need to make a decision. Do we split our crew, and send some people down to Sheridan to help support the strikers, or do we concentrate on the ICE action here?”

  Words clawed their way up Lucy’s throat, ready to rush out. A slight pressure touched her lips, as if a hand rested there, silencing her.

  ::Stay out of this. Hold yourself. This is not the battle you must fight. Everyone must find their own way.::

  Lucy knew that Tonantzin was right, but she still wanted to scream. If the group split, there was no way they’d pull the action off. They needed numbers to do the magic, and more numbers to distract ICE and the DHS while they did it.

  Tobias’s sweetheart, Aiden, spoke up then. “There is already strong interfaith support for the asylum seekers at Sheridan, pulling from Salem and some of the more rural communities. The Sikh communities in Portland and further south hav
e been working especially hard on getting both legal and spiritual counsel to the men. I say we continue with our original plan, since it is urgent, and not let ourselves get distracted.”

  “I agree,” Raquel said. “The oppressors love to fracture us, and there will always be too many injustices to face every single day. We need to stick with what’s in front of us, and just do the best we can.”

  ::La gente…they must feel my power.::

  Not. Right. Now. Sweat beaded on Lucy’s forehead as she struggled to keep the Goddess under some sort of control.

  “So!” Tariq clapped his hands together. “Here’s the plan as it stands. We’ll have people on site with walkie-talkies in case the inevitable happens and plans need to change, but you need a plan to deviate from, right? Raquel and Terra? Want to come up and take this next part?”

  Lucy only half heard the exchange, and the scrape of chairs as people rearranged themselves. She and the Goddess were wrapped in struggle as Tonantzin morphed Lucy’s body and her mind. It felt as if, not only was her head on fire, but she was being stretched beyond her limits.

  “You need to relax,” Brenda said in her ear. When had she snuck up next to Lucy? “Open up. I want to take you through the protocol now. It will help you.”

  “What?” Lucy was aware of Brenda’s hands moving across her aura, clearing something away. She felt a little better, as if there was more room inside her. Not much, but perhaps it would be enough. But she had no idea what Brenda was talking about. What protocol?

  “This wouldn’t be my choice for you, Lucy, to be ridden this way, but it’s clearly what is happening, and it’s now my job to get you through this and make sure you’re safe.”

  Lucy heard the whir of Izel’s scooter then, and smelled Tobias’s aftershave. Selene followed, their white face pale as the moon, and creased with worry.

  “Let’s take this into the store,” Tobias said quietly. “We don’t want to disrupt the meeting.”

  Brenda led her through the curtain and toward the comfortable seating in the book area. Once there, Brenda finally let Lucy go, and motioned to a chair. Lucy just shook her head.

  “I can’t sit,” she ground out.

  Izel maneuvered her scooter in between two armchairs, and Brenda, Tobias, and Selene all stood, practically hovering.

  “Oh, just sit down,” Lucy snapped out. “I’m not going to go on a destruction spree in the middle of the Inner Eye!”

  “But you just might set something on fire, sobrina,” Izel said, her voice dry. “And you should try to keep your voice down.”

  Lucy threw up her hands at that, and went back to pacing, tracing a pathway around the bookcases with their devotional statues standing guard on the tops of shelves, and back around the group of chairs.

  Tobias sat. “Why don’t you tell us what’s going on?”

  “Tonantzin is using Lucy’s body to direct the energies here on this plane,” Izel said. “And it’s starting to burn Lucy up alive. She’s being a little pushy, our Madre.”

  The curtain rings clacked, and Moss stuck his head into the store.

  “Lucy? People want to hear from you,” he said. “We’ve gone over everything else. You ready?”

  Lucy whirled, heart racing in panic, seeking out Brenda’s face. Izel’s. Tobias’s. They all held their eyes on her, steady. Waiting for her to decide. She bent over, hands on her knees, trying to breathe.

  She felt Brenda’s gentle touch between her shoulder blades.

  “Breathe, Lucy. All the way down to your toes.”

  Selene turned to Moss, “We’re not ready yet. Think of something.”

  Lucy tried to remember how to breathe, but the strange pressure inside wouldn’t let her. Or maybe Tonantzin didn’t know how.

  She felt Brenda doing something to her energy fields again, and…there it was, she was finally able to take in a full breath again. Then another.

  “Lucy. Sobrina. Look at me.” Izel’s voice drew her like a compass to true north.

  The old bruja practically vibrated with power. “Tonantzin has chosen you for a reason. These children have chosen you, too. You have been well trained. You are capable of doing this, and of making this the most successful magical operation in more than thirty years.”

  “I hear a ‘but’ in that,” Tobias said. Always practical, that witch.

  Izel’s head snapped toward him. “But Lucy needs to choose to cede more space inside her body for Tonantzin to do her work. And that is no easy task. Those who want it? Don’t have the strength of personality to hold the energy properly. And those with the strength? It is very hard for their egos to get out of the way.”

  She turned back toward Lucy. “So, which shall it be, sobrina? Will you choose to let this happen? Will you choose to let Tonantzin all the way in?”

  “We’ve got you,” Brenda murmured. “You won’t be alone for one second.”

  “And we’ll damn well make sure we get you back,” Selene said.

  Lucy bent herself back upright, and forced herself to stand in one spot, feeling what it was like to be a woman, breathing, with a Goddess filling up her body and setting her whole life on fire. She thought of the children. The parents. The people who had risked everything to come here. Driven by wars. By poverty. By rape. By a planet that became less hospitable every day because of the greed of half its human population.

  She looked at her friends and mentors. The people she loved more than anything else on this earth.

  And she chose.

  “I’m ready,” she said. “We’re ready.”

  Brenda nodded and shook out her hands, silver bracelets rattling on her slender wrists.

  “Selene, will you stand behind her? Just make sure she stays upright.”

  Tobias and Izel arranged themselves to each side, and Lucy felt Selene step behind.

  “Tonantzin,” her mentor said, “this is our sister, Lucinda, a willing priestess and witch. Care for her mind and body and bring her back to us safely once this magic is through.”

  Lucy trembled slightly. Selene’s hands pressed down onto her shoulders, just for a moment, calming the fear.

  Then Brenda’s hands touched Lucy’s head.

  “Goddess. Mother. Tonantzin, be with us. Share your consciousness with our beloved sister, Lucy.”

  Brenda’s hands moved down her face, warm and gentle.

  “See with her eyes. Smell with her nose. Taste with her lips.”

  Lucy felt the struggle inside of her recede. It was as if the magic words, the contract, made everything clear, and calmed down the parts that had been struggling so hard.

  It felt as if Tonantzin took one step forward, and Lucy took one step back. And that felt okay.

  Brenda’s hands continued their pathway as she recited the sacred contract.

  “Feel with her heart and hands and walk the earth on her blessed feet. Then return her to us, whole and sound. So mote it be.”

  “So mote it be,” the other witches said.

  Lucy opened her eyes and saw with layered vision, as if someone had processed two pieces of film one over the other. She blinked. The images resolved into one image, but brighter, richer, with denser texture. Books and faces, statuary, tumbled stones, colored lights. She heard everything’s sound—the hum of the lights, Selene’s breath behind her back, cars on the street, voices in the next room, a cat meowing to be fed at a house around the corner. And the smells. So many of them! Incense. Amber. Rose. Motor oil. Paper. All in a rush, they came to her. The whole world, alive around her, the way a Goddess would perceive the world, if the Goddess had human ears and eyes.

  Lucy’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she fainted dead away.

  28

  Jack

  Olivia’s partner, Grace, opened the front door. Wheeling her chair backward with one hand, she greeted him with a smile. She wore loose pajama pants, and a black tank top showed off her impressive arm muscles. Grace’s afro was cut short, with a fade, early nineties style.

&n
bsp; “Hey, Jack, come on in! They’re in the living room. We were just waiting for you before I get banished to the bedroom.”

  Jack stepped into the large entryway, untied his sneakers, and slid his feet out, leaving his shoes next to the pile beneath an empty coat tree.

  “That hardly seems fair,” he replied.

  “Oh, I don’t mind. I get to put on my headphones and binge watch Highlander,” she said, still grinning.

  “Good times.” Jack smiled back. Damn, it felt good to smile. He realized then that training with the activists in the park earlier was the first time he’d smiled in what felt like a month. Maybe after tomorrow he’d have more to smile about.

  “Well,” said Grace, “I’ll let you get to it.”

  “See ya,” Jack replied, padding through the wide hallway towards a large opening to his left. It was a combination living and dining room, which segued into a vast kitchen. Six people sat in a grouping of chairs and a long couch set around a low, glass-topped coffee table. A whitewashed brick fireplace rose on the far wall. Jack bet it made the room cozy during the rainy wintertime. Art brightened the otherwise white walls, picking up the colors from the red chairs and deep teal couch. Bolder than Jack was used to, but it worked in the space.

  He realized he’d always gone straight back to Olivia’s office before and spent absolutely no time in this room. The whole house must be as well protected as the office, though, or Olivia would never hold a meeting out here.

  “Hey Jack!” Olivia greeted him. “Feel free to grab yourself a soda or some water from the kitchen, and then we’re going to get down to it. After you power down your phone, that is. There is a cage in the kitchen.”

  Jack looked around at the gathering. Besides Olivia, there was a petite white woman with sandy hair, a couple of typical-looking coder dudes, one white, and one Black, and then… Surprise, surprise.

  “Alejandro? I had no idea…I thought you would be at the meeting at Brenda’s shop tonight.”