𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 75 : 𝐃𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐔𝐬

𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚’𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬°°°

At around six Breanna coordinates John's extraction with Sophia alone in her office.

“John is still en route,” Sophia said, removing the phone from her ear.

“Don't you think his arrival is taking rather too long?” Breanna expressed, looking at the wall clock hanging on her office wall.

Sophia senses a shift in her instinct but she dismisses it as nerves. “Sombra Azul is so remote that getting a Bus is hard”

“Oh— then we do not engage until he enters the pre-ceremony chamber.”

“Yes— Ma'am” Sophia replied and went back to rehearsing the conversation lines with John.

Breanna had composed and given them to her because her cases were yet to be returned to her since she completed her suspension.

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚 𝐀𝐳𝐮𝐥 — 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐞

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

A sacred, once-a-year Sombra Azul's native ceremony, aimed at ushering in a new season.

Little bonfires burned in disciplined rows before each hut—low, steady flames fed with resin and bone-dry wood.

Impatient children dressed in ceremonial garments ran barefoot through the dust, faces painted in streaks of cobalt. Their laughter was swallowed by the rhythm of the drums.

Old women knelt at their thresholds, shawls the color of storm clouds pulled tight as they traced cornmeal sigils into the earth, murmuring blessings under their breath.

Liza's household wasn't left out in the ceremony— inside the Minnelli's hut smelled of pine smoke and burning herbs.

Tonight mattered more than any other— John was returning. With him, a bride, their household’s honor.

“Mother,” Maya called, emerging with a blue-glass lantern clutched tightly in her hands. “Has he arrived yet? The men are assembling.”

Before she could answer, the drums faltered and a low hum vibrated from outside

The two women rushed out in time to see the village chief raising his staff, “The eve tribute is declared open.”

Matured men formed a vast circle— one representative per household. Shoulders squared.

Tonight, every honor and every burden sat on their shoulders.

The village head conducted a head count of the family representatives and only one of them remained unmarked. Minnelli representative.

He approached their hut, staff scraping against the stones.

“Where is the chosen representative of your house?” His voice echoed across the clearing.

Maya and Liza glanced at each other and swallowed at once.

Then Liza lifted her chin. “John is almost here— exercise some patience.”

A collective hiss rolled through the crowd—sympathy, pity, judgment, no one could tell.

“He will arrive with the third drum,” Maya intoned defensively, voice steady despite the tremor in her hands.

The gathered men exchanged looks and grungy whispers spread through them.

Night was already shrouding over, swallowing the last traces of daylight.

“Brother never fails,” Maya added, voice pitched too high. “He will come at the height of the fire dance— I promise”

“If he does not,” a voice called from the circle. “He should then join us at the fire pit”

Agreement surged in unison, “Yes.”

The tension felt like a thread stretched to snapping until the village chief extended the ember bowl. “You said if yourself — let's commence”

Drums beat thundered — ancient, a pulse older than any living soul present.

Voices layered upon voices as their feet struck the earth in patterns.

Thoom. Thoom. THOOM.

Women lifted their children so they could see them pass to the Mountains fire pit.

Their ceremonial torches climbed the mountain path. The flames dimmed until only faint echoes remained.

Liza exhaled once. “John will come. Right?”

“He always does,” Maya said, leading her back into the hut —though fear bled through her certainty.

With their exit three black SUV’s silhouettes crept into view with predator grace.

It circled the village square and pulled into a halt at once.

Uniformed men stepped out in silence, blending with the shadows cast by the blue lantern glow.

Antonio himself emerged last— expression carved in stone.

His eyes swept over the sacred ceremony as though the mountain air belonged to him.

To compare with his last visit, Sombra Azul's ambiance didn’t simply come alive —it woke, like an ancient creature stretching from centuries of slumber.

Blue lanterns lined the dusty path, flickering like restless spirits and the entire mountain range throbbed with faint drumbeats— primal and ancient enough to stir fear in the bones, but not for men like them who had murder in his eyes.

He flicked a finger and they rippled around for the order.

“No gunfire unless I say so,” he murmured. “Find him.”

The men masked before splitting— One team infiltrates through the festival’s merchant stalls, another circulates behind the ceremonial stage.

He moved alone — straight into the heart of the festivities, no disguise.

A lion in a carnival.

They weren’t welcome—but no one dared stop them.

Mothers pulled their children aside and the elders watched without blinking.

He barely made it past the hut that nursed him when he was wounded and a voice screamed “Brother”

Liza leapt on her legs but before she could ask where John was Maya was already out of the door, running full speed.

“Brother!” she cried, throwing herself against Antonio from behind, arms locking tight. “You came!”

Liza sniggered in surprise as she took in his silhouette — she never thought she'd see him again after stealing him away that night.

“Son?" She bleated, stepping forward. Disbelief.

He quickly adjusted his countenance, then carefully pried Maya's hands away.

He crouched before Liza, spine bent in respect. “Mother Liza. How have you been?”

Motherly instinct surged and she reached for his face, fondling his hair. “Alive,” she breathed. “By grace.”

He gave a curt nod and strengthened so as to embark on his almost abandoned mission. “I wil—”

“Come inside,” Maya urged, tugging his sleeve. He made to oblige but Liza pulled at him too.

“Yes,” she added softly. “Let me also see your healing process.”

Antonio’s jaw tightened. Time was bleeding. “That won’t be necessary,” he snapped out without control.

Liza and Maya paused at an instant, surprised at his brittle tone.

“You don’t like our house?” Liza asked, wounded.

“Not that” he inhaled, reins tightening. “Just that the wound is completely healed — I can’t stay.”

“Oh” Maya swallowed.

“But since you came all the way here, have a meal.” she proposed and her mother nodded in agreement.

He hesitated, his gaze sliding past them —to the mountain where faint drums thundered.

Liza caresses his stubble “Son! It's Sundance Eve — dine with us at least”