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Intermix Nation
  • Текст добавлен: 26 октября 2016, 22:11

Текст книги "Intermix Nation "


Автор книги: M. Attardo



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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

Chapter Seventeen

Walking to the parked sedan the next afternoon, Nazirah is in considerably heightened spirits. Her late night visit to the Caals has renewed her focus and drive. She feels unusually optimistic, excited even, to visit the intermix slums.

Nazirah opens the car door, expecting to be the last person there. To her surprise, Aldrik is unusually late. The sun is high in the afternoon sky and the car is sweltering. Nazirah smirks as she slides into the backseat. Adamek has undone his two top shirt buttons and rolled up the cuffs of his sleeves. This isn’t Krush anymore. Adamek clearly isn’t used to the muggy, humid heat of southern Eridies.

Nazirah finds herself unwillingly drawn to the patch of skin shining through his unbuttoned shirt. It reminds her of him in the Iluxor. So much has happened in the last couple of days that Nazirah keeps pushing that memory to the back of her mind. She doesn’t want to think about it … how he has lost a mother too … how he has essentially orphaned himself … how he has no one to go to when the grief becomes overwhelming. She doesn’t want to know that he has no one at all.

“See something you like?”

Crap.

She snaps her head up. Adamek’s eyebrow is raised questioningly. “Just wondering why you’re not wearing your pendant,” she replies, thinking quickly.

Adamek looks down where it would normally be, shrugging lightly. “Forgot to put it on, I guess.”

“You guess?” she scoffs. “You shouldn’t mess around! That amnesty pendant is the only thing protecting you from some angry rebel who decides he just might like killing you after all.”

“Is that so?” Adamek asks, heavily scratched hands resting nonchalantly in his lap. “The only thing?”

“I don’t know,” she says, retracting slightly.

“Right.”

“Whatever,” she snaps. “You still need to be more careful.”

“Oh, honey,” he says, words calculated. “I didn’t realize you cared.”

“I still don’t,” Nazirah says. “I just don’t want you dead. Not while you’re still useful to the rebels.”

“You don’t want me dead?” Adamek asks emotionlessly. “Or you don’t want me dead at someone else’s hands?”

Nazirah is stunned silent. Sure, she has imagined killing him, in various painful ways, for months now. But for him to say it out loud? To make that desire, that darkness inside of her, seem possible? Like she could really do it, if only she had the opportunity?

It scares her.

“That’s what I thought.”

“How did your meeting with the fishermen go?” she asks, changing the subject.

“I’d say very well,” he tells her, “considering what we bribed them with.”

“Not everyone can be bought, you know,” Nazirah responds crossly. “Some people have morals.”

“Morals have nothing to do with it.”

“Morals have everything to do with it!”

Adamek sighs. “Everyone can be bought, Nation. It’s just a matter of price.”

“You’re talking about money?”

“That’s not what I said.”

Nazirah glances out the window, annoyed. “Where is Aldrik?” she asks.

“Talking with your brother, I think.”

“By the way,” she says, “do you know what he’s saying about us?”

“Your brother?”

“Aldrik.”

Adamek shakes his head. “What’s he saying?”

“Well, uh,” Nazirah mumbles, “you remember how I didn’t exactly answer Cander’s question yesterday?”

Adamek’s eyes flash. “Vaguely.”

“Apparently,” Nazirah continues, coughing nervously, “Aldrik’s telling everyone that my silence was actually because I … because we’re … together.”

Adamek snorts in amusement. “That makes no sense at all.”

“That’s what I said.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” he tells her. “I doubt anyone will believe it.”

“That’s not what Cander seems to think.”

“Afraid word will get back to your little boyfriend in the Red West?” he asks.

Nazirah hasn’t thought of that. What if Cato hears the rumors before Nazirah can explain how untrue they are? Nazirah knows he will go crazy. And the two of them don’t need any more strain on their friendship. “No,” she says stubbornly, refusing to let him get the last word.

“Or are you afraid he’ll hear about your midnight trysts with his brother?”

Aldrik appears by the inn’s entrance and Nazirah sighs in relief. “It’s not like that.”

“Don’t you find it hypocritical,” Adamek continues, “that you wax poetic about how I spend all my time slutting myself around, and then you go and whore yourself out to the first willing guy? Not to mention jeopardizing the entire campaign in the process.”

“I do not whore myself out,” she hisses.

“Didn’t look that way to me.”

“As you made it so abundantly clear last night,” Nazirah says angrily, “you know that isn’t true. And I could not care less what or who you do.”

Lie.

Aldrik shuffles into the front seat, revs the engine. Without a word, he begins driving, making the short journey to the slums.

“You’re late,” Nazirah says.

“The Commander can be very chatty when he wants. Morgen has probably already informed you, your highness, but our meeting today with the fishing contacts was successful. They’ve agreed to stop sending resources to Mediah and instead will be redistributing their food quotas to the rebels.”

“I told her,” Adamek replies.

“Good,” he says, smiling wickedly. “There’s also something else, concerning you two, that you should be aware of.”

“We already know,” Nazirah answers.

Aldrik quickly glances between them, noting their tension with delight. “Having a lover’s spat already, are we?”

Nazirah only shoots him a scathing glare.

“Holy hell, what is that?” Aldrik says as they pass by the town square. A makeshift gallows has been erected in the center. Nazirah gags as she sees bodies hanging in the sunlight, slowly rotting corpses. They are a few feet off the ground, hands bound behind them, heads lolled to the side. Seagulls and flies circle overhead. It’s haunting.

They enter slum territory. Nazirah has never been in this part of Rafu, even though it’s close to where she grew up. Barefoot children wearing rags run alongside the car, fascinated. Nazirah feels ashamed to be driving into the slums, wishing they walked from the inn instead. She wants to yell out the window that she’s like them, can count the number of times she’s been in a car on one hand.

The motor eventually dies and the three of them step outside. Nazirah looks through the hazy, blistering heat.

Thousands of small huts line the narrow beach in neat rows as far as the eye can see. They are flimsy at best, constructed of driftwood and cardboard, tied together with some metal sheeting and tarpaulin. Hundreds of children sit lethargically in the sand. The children are all gangly limbs, bloated stomachs, and swollen heads. Some play. Many beg for food. Most just watch with hollow, hungry eyes that have seen too much. Old women, faces lined with deep crags, skin like leather, stare accusingly. Young men kick a ball around in the sand, yelling and shouting.

“Nazirah!” a small voice calls. Nazirah turns around and sees Cayu, the boy whom she spoke to at the meeting. He runs up to them, grinning widely, not nearly as shy as he was yesterday. Nazirah can see that he’s missing his front tooth and she smiles, thinking of Caria.

“Good to see you again, Sir Cayu.”

Cayu brightens and then gets a serious look on his face. “We’ve been waiting for you,” he says, grabbing Nazirah’s hand and pulling her forward. “Follow me.” Concentrating hard, he walks down the rows of huts fast as his chubby legs will carry him.

Nazirah is amazed by Cayu’s ability to be genuinely happy, regardless of the desperation around him. It hits Nazirah that this could have easily been her life, had her circumstances been slightly different.

As they walk through the endless rows, countless intermix stare at Nazirah in wonder, and then at Adamek in complete terror. Some people in Renatus, including the intermix, know Nazirah Nation. But everyone in Renatus, especially the intermix, knows Adamek Morgen.

What does it feel like to have people be so afraid of you? To wield that heavy, heady power over them? The Medis may want power above all else, but Adamek is the one who has it. Whether he wants it or not is another question. Unable to keep her eyes forward, Nazirah gives in and glances behind her. He is watching her, not anyone else, like he knows exactly what she’s thinking.

Cayu leads them into the largest hut in the slum. Inside, it is bare but comfortable and surprisingly clean. The dirt is so impacted from years of traversing feet it is almost like a terra firma carpet. Cayu’s mother is there, holding an infant in her arms. There is also a man Nazirah assumes is Cayu’s father. Several other children, younger than Cayu, chase one another around the hut. Cayu introduces Nazirah, Adamek, and Aldrik to his mother Casha, his father Cayus, and all of his sisters and brothers before Casha gently interrupts him.

“Cayu, darling,” she requests sweetly. “Why don’t you go play outside? Let the adults talk.” Cayu nods, eyes wide, and runs out of the hut. Casha motions for them to sit down on three wooden stools.

“He’s adorable,” Nazirah gushes, sitting. Nazirah doesn’t normally gush about anything, but she feels unusually affectionate towards Cayu. Especially because he’s so fond of Riva.

“He can be quite a handful.” Casha smiles. “He wants to be just like his father.” Casha looks at Cayus hesitantly before continuing. “When I first heard you were planning a trip here, I didn’t believe it. I’m very glad that I was wrong. Your mother was incredibly kind to my son, even when she didn’t have to be, even when it was dangerous for her to be. I am forever indebted to her. You are most welcome here, Nazirah Nation.”

“Is she, Casha?” asks Cayus quietly. He’s tall, with tan skin and broad shoulders. In lieu of a tattoo on his forearm, he sports a painted red circle. “I am Cayus,” he says, “leader of the intermix here. If I may get straight to it, what exactly are your intentions?” Aldrik opens his mouth, but Cayus quiets him with a look. He nods meaningfully at Nazirah. “From one intermix to another.”

“Right.” Nazirah proceeds slowly, unsure of why he’s singling her out. “We’re hoping for your support and for the support of all Eridian intermix.”

“Hoping to spill our blood, you mean,” Cayus says.

Nazirah is surprised. “That’s not what I mean at all.”

“Do you not wish for our able bodies?” he asks. “For our strength of numbers? Will intermix blood not be spilt in battle, should we choose to help you?”

“We’re on the brink of war with Mediah,” Nazirah says, becoming agitated. “Yes, an unfortunate repercussion of war is death. But you’re twisting my words.”

“Or perhaps you are not considering the consequences of them.”

“I’m not your enemy, Cayus!” she argues. “We’re the same, you and I. We both want the same thing.”

Cayus laughs. “Allow me to be perfectly blunt. You are only a first generation intermix, correct? Your father was a resourceful Oseni, your mother an educated Eridian. You have lived a blessed life. My father was intermix, like his father before him and his father before him. We have never had the opportunities that you have had, could not even fathom them. This is how it is for the vast majority of people living in my slum. So with all due respect, Nazirah Nation, we may both be intermix, but we are hardly the same.”

Nazirah is so shocked she almost falls off her stool. Aldrik begins to protest, but Nazirah holds up her hand. She’s been judged her entire life, but to be castigated by her own kind? For not being intermix enough? Nazirah is disheartened to find racism everywhere, even in places she would least expect it to exist.

“With all due respect, Cayus,” Nazirah growls, “you dare judge me for my lack of intermix blood? Am I not diluted enough for your liking? Have I not suffered enough to be deemed worthy by your racist standards? Your uninformed, practically Median values disgust me! They’re what hold intermix back. Not my intentions, whatever you believe them to be! I may be ‘only a first generation intermix,’ but I know a lot more about tolerance than you ever will.”

“So you must,” Cayus says, gesturing to Adamek, who has been watching their heated interaction in silence. “You must be very tolerant to associate with someone who is revolted by you, sickened at the very thought of you. Someone who hates you to the core, simply because you exist.”

From the corner of her eye, Nazirah sees Adamek’s fingers clench and unclench. Casha tries to intervene. “My love –”

“Quiet!” he snaps, raising a threatening hand. Casha looks meekly at the ground.

“Don’t speak to her like that!” Nazirah shouts, seeing red. In that moment, she finds no difference between Cayus and the Chancellor, or Casha and Victoria. And Nazirah is more grateful than ever to call the unbending, iron-fisted Riva Martel her mother.

“Casha knows her place, Nazirah Nation,” Cayus says. “It’s time you learned yours.”

“I know my place!” Nazirah fires back, pointing at the entrance. “It’s out there, with the rest of the world, as an equal! It’s you who must learn!”

“And I suppose you will be the one to teach me?”

“Do you want to live like this forever?” Nazirah asks. “Do you want your children, your grandchildren, to be confined to these slums their entire lives? Living every day in fear and starvation, without any hope of breaking that cycle? I’m asking you to set aside your blatant prejudices and help all intermix regain what we’ve lost! We fight for you either way!”

“Do you know,” Cayus asks slowly, “the soldiers of Mediah come, with their fire cannons? They burn our huts to the ground, trying to slaughter us, for sport. It is a game to them, guessing where the flames will fall.

“We have dealt with this burden our entire existence. We have come to expect it. But that is not what hurts us most, what scars us deepest.” The silence hangs over the hut like a thick fog. There are loud noises, shouting and barking in the distance. Cayus leans closer. “It is the Eridians who deal us the most painful blow – in here.” He pounds hard on his chest. “It is intermix like you, who have lived mere miles away your entire lives, yet have never even contemplated our struggle, our existence. Until you want something from us. It is your indifference to our plight, your apathy, your willful ignorance of intermix poverty that cuts straight to the heart.

“You pass us every day, blissfully unaware of our desperation. That is what hurts the most. And you want me to forgive them? You want me to take up their burden at the expense of my own people? Make no mistake, Nazirah. We may be poor and we may be hungry, but the intermix are not going anywhere. We have dealt with strife for centuries and we will endure. I cannot say the same for the Eridians.”

“But we’re fighting for the same thing!” Nazirah cries. “Like the Eridians, you want freedom and peace! You want the power over your own life!”

Adamek’s eyes are on her, but Nazirah doesn’t look his way.

“In this, you are correct,” Cayus says, appreciating her persistence. “But I am sorry. I cannot help you.”

“Why not?” asks Aldrik.

Nazirah puts her face in her hands, feeling nothing but despair. She hears crying and wailing outside and imagines the slum dwellers are as upset with their leader as she is.

Cayus stares at Adamek’s hands and then into his eyes. “Tell me, Adamek Morgen,” he says. “Tell me how many intermix you have killed.”

“A lot,” Adamek says, not missing a beat.

“I see.”

“And how many intermix have you killed,” Adamek counters, “in order to obtain your leadership here?”

“A lot,” Cayus responds slowly. “But you can understand why I could never fight alongside you?”

Adamek is silent then, as is Aldrik.

Nazirah looks at them, enraged. “Well, I can’t!” she shouts, standing up quickly. “He killed my fucking parents! If I can do it, then you most certainly can!”

Cayus also stands, causing everyone in the hut to rise apprehensively. “Even the intermix of the slums are not immune to the gossip of the world,” he says, looking curiously between the two of them. “You come here and ask me to forgive. Nazirah Nation, daughter of Kasimir Nation, lover of Adamek Morgen, how have you forgiven him?”

Nazirah opens her mouth, completely prepared to lie to the best of her ability. But Cayu rushes frantically inside the hut, cutting her off. “Father!” he screams, pointing outside. “The cannons are here!”

Loud booms shake the ground. Cayus pulls the flap of the hut entrance open, disappearing outside. Nazirah can see plumes of black smoke rising in the distance. The Medi vehicles retreat, as a huge fire begins to eat up row upon row of huts. Nazirah watches breathlessly as hundreds of intermix men run towards the ocean, preparing to fill wooden buckets with water.

Aldrik and Adamek run outside to help. “Nation, stay here!” Adamek shouts at her, before sprinting towards the massive ball of flames.

“Let go!” Cayu screams, trying to break free of Casha, who holds onto his tiny wrist. He clearly wants to help his father. Casha looks overwhelmed, trying to handle her small children, but Nazirah cannot stay with her.

“I’ll be back!” Nazirah yells at Casha and rushes out of the hut.

Nazirah darts down the rows, searching for anyone who may have been trampled in the chaos. Getting closer to the inferno, Nazirah feels the heat scorch through her body. Smoke fills her lungs and she coughs into her hand. The acrid smell of burning wood, metal, and flesh sears the air. Sweat and fear soak her clothes. Several meters away, she sees Adamek and Cayus joining the massive effort to quell the flames.

Men surround the wall of fire, beating it down with wet rags, towels, and clothes – anything that will suffocate the flames. Others form a human chain, an endless system transporting buckets to and from the ocean. The fire has already decimated dozens of huts and is quickly engulfing more, incinerating everything in its path.

Squinting, Nazirah sees Cander and several Eridians rushing down the shoreline to help. The smoke is thicker now, heavier. Nazirah’s arms are red and blistering. She bends over, trying to catch her breath, just as a small boy sprints past her. Nazirah doesn’t need to look twice to know who it is. “Cayu!” she yells.

Nazirah races after him, screaming his name. But he’s too far gone, already several yards ahead in the distance. Nazirah musters every last ounce of strength she has, running through the flaming rows as the huts around her begin collapsing. Nazirah sees Cander through the flames and calls out to him. He doesn’t hear her and quickly retreats from her vision.

Nazirah ploughs forward, tripping over a dead body in the lane. She gags but doesn’t stop. Someone grabs her from behind, slings her over their shoulder. “Put me down!” Nazirah screams, kicking furiously.

Adamek drops her harshly and grabs hold of Nazirah’s arm. His face is full of ash, but his green eyes blaze brighter than the fire, furious. “What are you doing here?” he growls, yanking her forcefully away from some falling debris. “I told you to stay put! You never listen!”

“Cayu ran here!” she cries. They both duck as the hut beside them collapses. “I have to find him!”

“I’ll find him!” he yells. “Get out of here, Nation!”

“No!” she shouts, wrenching her arm from his grasp. She runs away from him and back towards the wall of fire. Adamek shouts her name, chasing after her. Nazirah doesn’t know which of them is the faster runner, but she’s about to find out.

Nazirah runs in the direction she last saw Cayu, jumping over burning pieces of debris. Adamek is right behind her. He tries to grab her, but she ducks into the adjacent row of huts. Nazirah spots Cayu right at the encroaching wall of fire, about twenty huts away. She watches in complete horror as Cayu throws some water from a small pail onto the flames. He’s so focused he doesn’t see the collapsing hut until it’s too late. Moments later, he’s trapped underneath the rubble.

Adamek comes up behind Nazirah, spotting Cayu only a moment later. They look at each other and simultaneously sprint to Cayu’s aid. Nazirah is fast, but Adamek is faster. Adamek reaches him with Nazirah a step behind, and pulls an unconscious Cayu from the rubble just as the fire begins to catch. Nazirah leads them away from the heat as Adamek holds Cayu in his arms.

As they run, Nazirah can see that Cayus has intentionally destroyed dozens of huts near the blaze, clearing the debris in order to starve the fire of more fuel. Through the relentless efforts of intermix and Eridian, the flames are being suffocated. By the time Adamek and Nazirah reach Cayus’ hut, the fire has mostly died, leaving only smoldering remains and a thick black plume of smoke.

Casha waits at the hut entrance, where the air is still breathable, holding a wailing infant in her arms and looking petrified. She nearly faints when she sees Adamek walk in with Cayu. Adamek gently lays the boy on the floor of the hut. Casha hands the infant to an already frazzled Nazirah and then rushes over to her son and cradles him in her arms. The three of them exhale when Cayu coughs and his breathing steadies.

“Thank you!” Casha sobs, bordering on hysteria. “I can never repay you for this!” Nazirah is frankly more concerned about the finicky baby in her arms. She tries to soothe it, wincing as it pulls her hair with its tiny fists.

“It’s not a bad look for you,” Adamek says, absurdly trying to lighten the mood. Casha quickly pulls the baby away, cooing.

Nazirah runs her fingers through her hair, laughing a little insanely, completely unable to process the situation. Cayus and Cander walk inside, weary and exhausted. They both have minor burns on their arms and faces. Aldrik enters last, hacking loudly and collapsing onto the nearest stool. Some of his hair has burned off, the rest still sizzling, and he has lost his eye patch. As soon as Cayus sees Cayu, he falls to the ground, kneeling before him and sobbing.

“He ran off,” Nazirah explains.

“You saved my son,” Cayus says softly to her.

She shakes her head, then nods silently at Adamek. Cayus looks at him, bewildered. Nazirah can see the amazement behind his eyes, and the sadness as well. Cayus returns to his son, stroking his cheek tenderly.

“Well,” grumbles Aldrik, coughing loudly and rising in pain, “we will leave you to mourn your deaths in privacy.” He looks at Nazirah and Adamek pointedly. “We should go.” Nazirah knows what Aldrik is really implying – that this fire was not meant for the slumdwellers.

The three of them, along with Cander, exit the hut and stand awkwardly before the entrance. Nazirah nervously wipes the ash from her face with the back of her hand. She can’t leave yet. There’s something she has to do, something she has put off for far too long. “Excuse me, Aldrik,” she says, immediately wincing because he is bound to know something is up. Nazirah is never this polite. She clears her throat, trudging on. “This is Cander Caal, Cato’s older brother.”

Aldrik eyes her suspiciously. “We met yesterday,” he says, “at the meeting.”

“Right,” Nazirah mumbles. “Well, you see, his family is like family to me … you know how close I am to Cato … and I haven’t seen them in so long. I was hoping I could walk back with Cander to his house and visit them quickly … just for a few minutes … and then Cander will walk me back to the inn and we can leave.”

Cander and Adamek look at Nazirah quizzically, since they both know she’s lying. She tries to look as innocent as possible, avoiding their eyes. Aldrik processes her request thoughtfully, scratching his singed head. “You’ll walk her back?” he asks Cander.

“Of course,” Cander lies smoothly.

“Fine,” Aldrik concedes. “But don’t be long, Nation. And don’t be seen! The Medis know of our presence in Rafu; we’re not safe here anymore. We leave in an hour. Morgen, I’ll be waiting in the car.” He hobbles away.

“What was that about?” Cander asks her.

Nazirah only bites her lip, not wanting to answer. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” she says quietly to Adamek, who remains silent.

“Be back before dark,” Cander says. Nazirah nods, the two of them grudgingly coming to terms with each other.

Nazirah begins walking down the rows towards where they first came in. She can see that the intermix are already piling up their dead, aiding the injured and rebuilding what’s been lost.

“Nazirah Nation!”

She turns around, facing the direction of the voice. “Cayus?”

“Leaving without saying goodbye?” he asks.

Nazirah looks at the ruins, shaking her head sadly. “How do you go through this?” she asks. “Why don’t you pack up your homes and leave, move somewhere else?”

“And where would we go?”

“I don’t know!” she cries. “Just somewhere else, somewhere the Medis won’t find you as easily!”

“Nazirah,” he says patiently. “The intermix have lived on this small stretch of coast for centuries.” He opens his arms wide. “This is our home. We are tied to this land. And without it anchoring us, we would be drowning nomads in a sea of loss. Life here in Rafu may be hard, and it may often be grim, but it is where our hearts lie. And that is why we choose to rebuild here, day after day, year after year. Surely you, of all people, can understand that.”

“You’re right,” Nazirah says, glancing around. “I do understand.”

“You never did answer my question,” he says, smiling knowingly.

Nazirah looks into his eyes, finding warmth there that she did not notice before. “I haven’t forgiven him,” she replies honestly. “Not even close.”

“A Medi and an intermix,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief. “I never thought I would live to see the day.”

“But I just told you –”

Cayus gently grips her shoulder. “I heard what you said,” he tells her sagely. Cayus points to the red paint on his arm. “I wear this to remind me that, despite our differences and flaws, we are all human, part of God’s boundless circle. We are all children of the sun and moon, made of stars and earth.” He shakes his head. “It is so easy to forget sometimes…”

He gives her shoulder a final squeeze before walking away.

#

Nazirah hurries along the coast, aware she doesn’t have much time. Adamek could rat her out to Aldrik – but somehow, Nazirah knows he won’t. Aldrik and Nikolaus would have never let her come here on her own, especially not after the Medi attack on the slums. But she has to see it, one last time. Nazirah coughs, casually inspecting the minor burns and scratches on her arms. They sting, but are nothing serious. She shivers, knowing how much worse things could have been.

Rafu is a small village, easily walked end to end. The unfamiliar streets bordering the slums eventually transform into the familiar paths of Nazirah’s past. Nazirah turns onto a lane she has not been down in months. A fresh wave of jitters buzzes through her as she passes several one-story beach bungalows. They gleam white and blue in the late afternoon light, traces of the foaming sea on land. Nazirah eventually stops in front of a small, unassuming cottage right on the water.

It still stands, proud and strong. It is the cottage Kasimir built for Riva, so many years ago. And it welcomes Nazirah back. Nazirah’s memories here are tainted, but they are all she has. Cayus is right. Life in Rafu is hard. But it is her home; it is where her heart lies.

Nazirah glances around the quiet lane, then quickly walks through the rusty gate and out of sight. The weeds are overgrown in the garden. But the scent of jasmine and verbena linger in the air, watchful guardians. Nazirah climbs the front steps. She bends down at the top stair, retrieving the spare key that resides under a hollow stone. Nazirah deftly unlocks the door, fingers effortlessly recalling the way.

“I’m home.”

Nazirah walks through the entrance, prodigal daughter returned. Her voice echoes throughout the abandoned cottage. She doesn’t know why she does this, knowing that no one will answer. But she does it anyway.

In the living room, she runs her hands over the surface of everything she sees. Nazirah avoids the area where she found her parents, the walls now spotless, the wood bleached clean by rebel volunteers. She tries to think of her happier memories here as a child.

Nikolaus and Kasimir are in the corner, playing chess.

Riva is baking, singing, or rocking gently on the porch swing out back.

Nazirah touches and feels and remembers. And it hurts, but it’s a glorious pain.

From the fireplace mantle, Nazirah palms a small mason jar full of smooth black beach pebbles. She stuffs it into her pocket before continuing upstairs. Her fingers make trails and swirls in the thick layer of dust on the banister. The staircase groans under her weight. It’s amazing how Kasimir built this house with his hands. Kasimir’s were hands of creation. So unlike Adamek’s, used only for destruction.

Nazirah walks through each room slowly, lingering, breathing in the salty air that invades every crevice. She gingerly picks up her parents’ wedding photo, taken by a traveling peddler. Riva is radiant in a flowing, white, gauzy dress. She’s barefoot, with a crown of sunflowers in her hair. Kasimir gazes into her eyes, touching the bump on her stomach. Nazirah smiles at the photo, removing it from the frame and gently putting it in her pocket.

She hasn’t come for this. She has come to say goodbye, not horde possessions like a vagabond. But it seems wrong for her parents to stay alone in this empty house, smiling at no one. Nazirah wants them with her, wants them smiling at her.

Time is running short. She walks to the end of the hallway. Opening the last door, Nazirah steps into her bedroom. She lies on her bed, bathed in the soft blues and greens of her walls.

She imagines she can hear her parents laughing downstairs. Riva sews or drafts a lesson plan. Kasimir hums an Oseni tune and sharpens his tools. Maybe he’s whittling something. Nazirah wishes she had the Iluxor, which she knows Adamek brought on campaign. She could replay these memories in her mind then, instead of so inadequately imagining. Instead of pretending.

It’s nostalgic, coming home. It’s sweet, but painful at the same time. Her room feels like Irri, the girl she used to be. It doesn’t entirely fit the girl she is now.


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