Chuckling again, he let me go. “We’ll see.” Snapping his fingers, he stalked to the exit. “Come, I want you to see what your mother saw on the eve of her final task. I want you to know how insignificant a human life, especially a Weaver life, is compared to all that we have.”
Daniel grabbed my elbow, guiding me from the tally room. “I suggest you enjoy your tour, Nila, because once it’s over, there’s a certain protocol that has to be followed here. Certain superstitions to be entertained, local spirits to appease.”
I ducked beneath a mildew covered beam. “What do you mean?”
Cut said, “He means that you’re more than just our bed companion tonight. You’re our sacrifice.”
I gasped.
What?
Tucking my hand into the crook of his arm, Daniel guided me toward the gaping black hole and the unknown world beyond. “Now, let’s go explore, shall we? Time to see below the earth...time to see where diamonds are born.”
* * * **
Drumbeats.
Heartbeats.
Wingbeats.
It all melted into one as Cut guided me from the Jeep and back to the camp. My bones ached from the dampness of the mine. My clothes hung with icy humidity. And my mind couldn’t shed the tunnel of blackness where expensive stones were found.
How long had we been underground? Two hours? Three?
Either way, I’d seen enough of the birthplace of diamonds and never wanted to return. I couldn’t stop shivering, even as I thawed beneath the open skies. Fresh air fed my lungs, doing its best to eradicate the earthen soup found below the ground.
Cut had taken great pleasure in showing me catacombs where the first seam was found then scars where workers had pinched diamonds from the soil. He’d taken me in a wire-cage elevator to the furthest point in the mine. He’d shown me underground rivers, white-washed crosses on walls where cave-ins had claimed lives, and even skeletons of rats and vermin that’d stupidly decided to dig beside the workers.
The entire experience had ensured I loved my vocation even more. Material couldn’t kill me. Velour and calico couldn’t suffocate me.
I never wanted to go near a mine again.
However, I couldn’t stop fingering my collar, counting how many stones had been torn from their home. I’d expected the weight of the diamonds to grow heavier the longer I was inAlmasi Kipanga. If anything, the necklace grew lighter. Almost as if the diamonds were of mixed decision. Half of them wanting to return to their beds of dust, and others happy to be in sunlight rather than perpetual darkness—regardless of the bloodshed they’d witnessed.
Cut smiled. “Time for the next part of the tour.”
The cacophony of drumbeats tore me from my thoughts. Cut shoved me through the camp, barred behind fences, ensconced in a human habitat rather than diamond tomb.
Drumming and singing guided us toward the central fire pit.
“What the—” My mouth fell open as we rounded the path, entering a different dimension. I felt as if I’d time travelled—shot backward a few decades where African tribes still owned the land, and their life was about music rather than gemstones.
The pounding of fists on animal-hide drums echoed through my body, drowning out my nerves of what was to come. The air shimmered with guttural tunes and barbaric voices.
I’d never seen such a cultural fiesta. Never been enticed to travel to somewhere so ruthless and dangerous. But witnessing the liveliness and magic of the group of ebony-skinned dancers made tears spring to my eyes.
There was so much I hadn’t seen. So much I hadn’t done or experienced or indulged.
I was too young to die. Too fresh to leave a world that offered so much diversity.
This.
I want more of this.
Living...
“Your mother liked this, too,” Cut murmured, his face dancing withflame-ghosts from the bonfire. Topless women weaved around the crackling orange, their skirts of threaded flax and feathers creating stencils on the tents and buildings. Men wore loin clothes, pounding an intoxicating beat on animal drums of zebra and impala.
