Текст книги "Intermix Nation "
Автор книги: M. Attardo
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 23 страниц)
Chapter Twenty-Five
Nazirah tosses restlessly all night, unable to shut her brain off. Adamek wouldn’t answer a single question on the journey back to the manor, would barely speak to her at all. Nazirah has to see the monkey again before leaving Shizar. She bites her nails to the quick the next day, waiting until Adamek and Aldrik are scheduled to meet with the miners. When she can’t take it anymore, she grabs her coat, exits through the servants’ entrance without a hitch, and sets off towards the monastery.
She gets to the hanging bridge easily enough, and musters all of her courage to actually traverse it by herself. But she does it, teeth clacking, knuckles white, panting hard. Her nose starts running uncontrollably halfway across, but Nazirah doesn’t dare wipe it until her feet are on solid ground.
Nazirah enters the monastery, endorphins running high. A few stray zimbaba shuffle near the door and she walks up to one. “Excuse me,” she says, unsure of where to begin. “I’m looking for the monkey … I mean … Monk Yi. Do you know where I can find him?” The zimbaba only smiles complacently, enigmatic. “Hello?” she says, waving her hand in front of his face, “Anyone home?”
“It is rude to try to break the silence of a silent zimbaba.”
Nazirah jumps. “I was looking for you,” she says, turning around.
“Not only are you rude, Nazirah Nation,” the monkey replies, “you are also late. I have been expecting you for quite some time. Please follow me.”
Surprised, Nazirah follows him into an empty chamber. The monkey closes the door softly, gestures for Nazirah to take a seat. She shrugs off her coat as he sits across from her. “I’m sorry,” she says, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to be rude … or late.”
The monkey smiles kindly. “It’s quite all right,” he says. “A sincere apology goes a long way.”
“How did you know who I was?”
“Only a blind man would not recognize your face, Nazirah,” he responds. “Luckily for you, but unluckily for the rest of us, the world is full of the blind. Especially among those blessed with the gift of sight.”
“But how did you know I would come here?” she persists.
“Because I am not blind,” he says simply.
“Oh.”
“I heard what you called me before.”
Nazirah’s eyes grow wide. “I didn’t … I wasn’t.…”
The monkey holds up a gloved hand. “I am teasing you,” he chuckles, touching a large, wrinkled ear. “It is my defining characteristic. There are twenty-six monks in Shizar, always. You saw one of my brothers, Monk Ji, yesterday. When I first joined the order, I was christened Monk Yi. I quite like my more commonly used nickname, though. Monkeys are intelligent, curious and friendly … all things I strive to be.”
“Is that what your family calls you?”
“They’ve all passed,” he replies thoughtfully. “I had a name once. But that too has eroded from my mind like water on stone.”
“You don’t remember?” she asks, astonished.
“It was a very long time ago.”
“How long could it possibly be?”
He only smiles. “Enough of my misfortunes,” he says. “You did not come here for that.”
“I don’t know why I’ve come here, to be honest.”
“No idea at all?”
“Confusion, I guess,” Nazirah says. “About Morgen. I want some answers.”
“An answer begins with a question.”
Nazirah struggles for the words. “Lately,” she says, “I’ve felt … better … when he’s around.”
“And?”
She sighs. “And … happier.”
“And?”
“And … human.”
“That is still not a question.”
“What kind of a person,” she asks earnestly, “does that make me?”
“A very good person, I would imagine.”
“I don’t feel very good,” she says. “I feel like a selfish, scared coward most of the time.”
“But not all of the time?”
“I guess not.”
“You wear your grief like armor,” the monkey says. “It is sad to see, especially in one so young.”
“Your student caused my grief.”
“But you are the one letting it fester.”
“Do you take no responsibility?” she demands. “He learned everything from you!”
The monkey stares solemnly at his gloved hands. “Not everything,” he says quietly. “I do blame myself, Nazirah, more than you realize. I blame myself for not being a better teacher, like my own master was to me. But I do not regret training him. We all stray from the path. How we find it again … that is what truly defines a person.”
“Have I strayed?”
“Would you be here otherwise?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be silent or something?” she huffs in annoyance.
“There are many types of zimbaba,” the monkey says, laughing, “just like there are many types of people. You have a rebellious spirit. I can see why he likes you.”
“He has a funny way of showing it.”
“I’m sure he does,” the monkey says. “But you would not have been here yesterday, if he did not.”
“Why is he so reckless?”
“Nazirah,” he says seriously, “do not ask a question, if you do not want to know the answer.” Nazirah looks at him oddly. “Ask me something you really want to know.”
“How do I forgive him?” she whispers.
The monkey is quiet for a long time. “Before we agree to train a student,” he says, “the brotherhood gives a series of tests. I do not typically offer them to a civilian, but I feel you may benefit from one.”
“What kind of test?” Nazirah asks warily, worried he might try and dangle her over the ravine or something.
“One of the hardest order,” he answers. “A test of forgiveness.”
She thinks it over before responding. “Okay,” she agrees eventually.
The monkey nods, stripping off his gloves. Nazirah cannot help but stare at his hands, which are so blackened with scratches and scars they make Adamek’s look pristine. “As I said,” he whispers sadly, noticing her focus, “We all stray from the path.”
The monkey grasps her hands, chanting in an archaic, babbling tongue. The edges around him blur. The room twists, disappears. His song booms, warps, and then fades away entirely. The monkey’s grip tightens and loosens, becoming effervescent. And then he isn’t there at all.
Loud ringing destroys her ears. Nazirah winces, squeezing her eyes shut. As soon as she does, the ringing stops, followed only by dampened silence. When she opens them again, Nazirah finds she isn’t in the monastery anymore. She isn’t even in Zima.
She is home.
#
Riva and Kasimir relax on the couch. They cannot see Nazirah, but she can see them. Oh, how she can see them.
Riva leans into Kasimir’s chest, lying in his strong arms. He rubs her shoulders, trying to alleviate her tension. She tenderly plays with the scruff of his beard. “What are we going to do with her, Kas?” Riva sighs. “It’s the second time this week she’s snuck off. Who knows what she’s up to right now?”
“She’s finding herself, Riva,” Kasimir replies. “She’ll come around. She just needs some time.”
“You can’t keep making excuses for her!” Riva snaps. “She’s not a child! She’s hurting herself!”
“No, she’s not a child,” he agrees. “And we can’t continue to baby her. Her choices are her own. But we will talk to her again … when she gets home.”
“If only she were more like Nikolaus.”
Nazirah stands before them, tears streaming down her face. She wants desperately to stroke her mother’s cheek, to embrace her father. But she remains stuck. There’s a muffled noise at the door. Kasimir and Riva share a relieved look, happy Nazirah has returned safely. But it’s not Nazirah.
Nazirah cannot cry out or warn them or tell them one last time she loves them. If only they weren’t sitting ducks, unguarded, waiting for their errant daughter to return home. If only she joined the rebellion sooner, maybe they could have been protected. If only she were more like her brother.
If only, if only.
The door swings open, revealing Adamek. He’s wearing his gloves and is dressed entirely in black, gun in hand. But it’s not the Adamek she recognizes. It’s Adamek Morgen, the man of her nightmares, with the cruel and sinister eyes. Kasimir rises quickly, shielding Riva. Riva screams and Nazirah screams soundlessly along with her. Adamek raises the gun, fires twice.
End of story.
#
Nazirah’s entire body convulses, seizing up. She grips the monkey tightly for support. Hunching over, she coughs, struggling to breathe. “What the fuck was that?” she gasps, wrenching her hands away.
“Many fail the first time,” the monkey says kindly. “The path to forgiveness is not easy to walk.”
“Was that how it really happened?”
“We have many skills, Nazirah,” the monkey replies. “Omniscience is not one of them. You saw only what your mind believes happened. Your fear makes it real.”
“You tricked me!” she cries, grabbing the front of his robe. “You never said I would have to watch my parents get killed! That didn’t help me forgive him at all!”
“The path to forgiveness is not easy to walk,” the monkey repeats. “But in order to truly forgive another, you must first forgive yourself.”
With that one sentence, the monkey strips Nazirah bare, peering deep into her soul and revealing what truth lies there. He uncovers the consuming guilt that taints her every emotion, twists her every desire. Nazirah collapses before him, falling heavily to her knees, the weight unbearable. “Oh, God!” she cries.
The monkey takes Nazirah into his arms. “You wear your grief, your guilt, like armor,” he says. “It only keeps the joy out and the pain in.”
“I’m so sorry!” she sobs incoherently, to the ghosts of her past, her present, her future. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.…”
“There is nothing shameful about wanting happiness,” he says. “Everyone searches for it, but very few people allow themselves to find it.”
“What do I do?” she begs. “Tell me how not to be lost anymore! Please!”
“You are at a profound turning of the tide,” he says, wiping her tears, “in more ways than one. But hard as we try, no man can control the ebb and flow of the ocean.” He pulls her up gently.
“So you’re telling me to just float where the waves take me?” she asks. “That my life will never be my own?”
“I’m telling you,” the monkey whispers, “to become the moon.”
“What?”
“Decide how the tide pulls,” he says. “Choose your own fate. Do not let me, or anyone else, dictate your path. Forge it yourself.”
Nazirah nods, contemplating his words. “Thank you,” she says quietly.
“I have a small request before you leave,” the monkey says.
“Anything.”
“The road of your life has been rough, filled with grit and despair. And I do not see the course smoothing. I wish to give you a protection mark, offering you courage and strength in your most desperate hours.”
Nazirah is stunned. “I would be honored,” she says. The monkey delves into his robes. He retrieves a small bottle of ink and a thin needle, which Nazirah recognizes from Adamek’s memory. Grasping Nazirah’s left arm, he glances curiously at her fake crescent moon. Nazirah laughs bitterly. “It’s part of my disguise, along with the blonde hair and everything.”
The monkey winks. “What blonde hair?”
Confused, Nazirah fingers her locks. She pulls a tendril forward and finds it has returned to its normal copper color. Nazirah looks at her hands, freshly tan. “Did you do this?” she asks, amazed.
The monkey rubs Nazirah’s arm with his sleeve, gently erasing the black paint, the final remnants of Zima on her skin. “It does not suit you, Nazirah, to hide who you are. You are rare, even though you constantly resist that which makes you so special. Embrace it.”
The monkey closes his eyes and starts humming, blindly tattooing her left wrist. His movements are flawless and smooth. Nazirah watches him ink four numbers, followed by a strange symbol. Just like Adamek’s tattoo, she realizes. The monkey bows his head, returning the items to his pocket. Nazirah reads the numbers aloud.
“Zero-five-one-four.”
May 14th, her mother’s birthday. Nazirah understands now why the numbers on Adamek’s own wrist are so important to him.
“A protection mark,” the monkey says, “Courage and strength given by your kin. The best kind of protection there is.”
“But how did you know the date?”
“You knew the date,” he answers. “That is what matters.”
“Yesterday,” Nazirah says, “you saw that his Medi tattoo had changed. You said it suited him.” The monkey nods. “Why did it change?”
“Nazirah Nation,” the monkey replies, handing Nazirah her coat, “do not ask a question if you already know the answer.”
“He doesn’t consider himself Medi anymore,” she says immediately, realizing she has known it all along.
“The mind rejects and the body responds,” the monkey confirms, reaching into his robes again, pulling out a small dagger. The monkey throws it high into the air and catches it, lightning fast. He presents it to her. “A gift.”
“It’s incredible,” Nazirah breathes, tracing the intricate carvings. She unsheathes the dagger and stares at the gleaming metal before carefully pocketing it.
“Something to remember us by,” he says, “Though I hope you never have a need to use it.”
Nazirah gives the monkey a short, awkward bow. He chuckles, embracing her.
“Will I ever see you again?” she asks him.
“That depends.”
“On?”
“On the way the tide goes.”
Nazirah bites her lip. “Would you ever consider training me?”
“It would be both the greatest honor and shame of my life to teach someone so pure the ways of the brotherhood,” the monkey answers sorrowfully. “I am afraid I have no answer for you.” Nazirah nods. “But I will give you this final token of advice, my daughter. The first, most important, rule is to always know your enemy.”
Nazirah smiles because Adamek has already taught her that lesson. “I think I’ve got that one figured out.”
“Just remember,” the monkey says, waving goodbye. “In life, our only enemies are ourselves.”
#
When Nazirah exits the monastery, the sun is already setting. Darkness stains the sky, spilt ink soaking paper. Nazirah throws her hood up, crosses the bridge. Safely on the other side, she sprints back to the manor. She sneaks through the servants’ entrance, quickly retreating to her room. Nazirah shuts the door and leans against it, breathing a heavy sigh of relief. It has barely escaped her lips when she peers into the darkness, immediately freezing. “Morgen,” she greets, trying to sound casual as she pulls off her coat.
“Nation.”
Adamek lies on Nazirah’s bed, not looking her way. He tosses a smooth black stone into the air, catching it with one hand. Nazirah glances nervously at the open mason jar beside him, at the pictures spread out. He’s clearly been here for a while.
Nazirah clears her throat. “How was the meeting?”
“Good,” he says. “We finished early.”
“Great.”
“I told Slome I would check on you, but you weren’t here.” Adamek looks at her then, expression unreadable. He rises from the bed, standing before Nazirah in two short paces.
“I went for a walk.”
“Where?”
“Just out,” she says. “I couldn’t stay trapped in here anymore. No one saw me.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not.”
“And how do you explain looking like yourself again?”
Nazirah touches her face, having forgotten. “It wore off, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Yeah, I guess!”
“Don’t lie to me!”
“You should leave.”
Adamek ignores Nazirah, grabbing her wrist. There’s an unstable, manic look in his eye. Nazirah doesn’t even try to pull away. She knows exactly what he’s looking for. Adamek stares at the protection mark for only a second. Then he meets her waiting gaze. His voice is so devastatingly calm that Nazirah almost wishes he would yell instead.
“Why?”
She struggles to break free of his grip. “Why what?”
“Why did you go see him?”
“I was curious,” she says, wincing.
Adamek spins Nazirah so her back is flush against his chest. His free hand snakes around her waist, holding her firmly. “Curious?”
“You’re hurting me!”
Adamek releases her entirely, playing with her hair. Running his hand up her neck, Adamek cups Nazirah’s throat, compressing her airway just a little. “Do you trust me, Nation?” he whispers in her ear.
“Yes.”
Nazirah is surprised by how quickly she answers. But she doesn’t doubt herself, not for a moment. Adamek lets go of her windpipe. He hisses, “Then you are an idiot, Nazirah.”
Her name on his lips is glorious sacrilege, a godsend.
“I’m not,” she says.
“What am I?”
“I don’t –”
“What am I?” he repeats, more harshly this time.
“A man?”
Adamek laughs into her ear, grazing his fingers down her spine. “True,” he says. “But try again.”
“Medi?” she gets out. She knows that’s not right … not anymore.
“Nope.”
Nazirah racks her brain. She remembers the first day she saw Adamek at headquarters, in Nikolaus’s office. Nazirah called him a slew of foul names then. One in particular had stuck.
And don’t you forget it.
Nazirah hasn’t.
“Murderer.”
She whispers it like a confession. Adamek spins her around, looking her dead in the eye. “And that’s all I’ll ever be,” he says coldly. “Remember that.” He turns away from her, walking towards the door.
“Adamek!” she cries. He stops. Nazirah doesn’t know where the courage comes from, but something has changed. Her armor has cracked. “There can be a better way to live,” she says, voice clear as a bell. “We can be better.”
Adamek pivots slowly. Disbelief shrouds his face, quickly replaced by shock, then fury. Whatever he was expecting, it was not that. He balls his fists, taking a menacing step forward. “What did you say?” His voice is hoarse and riddled with pain. He steps again, closing the gap between them. He shoves Nazirah hard, forcing her backwards.
“You heard me!”
Adamek pushes Nazirah again, slamming her against the wall. He pounds his fists beside her head. Nazirah flinches, but refuses to back down. “How?” he hisses.
“The Iluxor,” she says evenly. “Before campaign.”
He clenches his jaw, neck veins throbbing, hands splayed against stone. “And did Nazirah Nation satisfy her undying curiosity?” he snarls. “Is that what you were hoping to find, some insight into my fucked up, abusive life?” He grabs her chin roughly, dragging her up the wall. She kicks her legs uselessly, running on air. “Did you enjoy watching the only good thing in my worthless existence die, at the hand of my own father? Did it get you off, knowing my retribution had finally come?”
“I just wanted to know!”
Their faces are even. Adamek holds a hand close to her scalp, yanking hard. Nazirah whimpers in pain. “I want to kill you right now,” he whispers, eyes smoldering. “Just pull a bit harder, break your neck … make all my problems go away with a snap. It would be so easy for me.”
“You’re all talk.”
“Don’t tempt me,” he growls.
“Do it then!” she yells, grabbing his shirt and wrenching him closer. “Do it!” Adamek looks so angry, so incredibly deranged. For a moment, Nazirah thinks he just might.
He kisses her instead.
Nazirah screams into his mouth, struggling to push him away. He untangles his hand from her hair, wrapping it firmly around her waist. Nazirah grabs his shoulders, pounds his chest, but he doesn’t stop. He presses his body into hers, trapping her against the wall. The logical part of her brain shouts to keep resisting, kick him, something. She doesn’t move. Nazirah lets him kiss her, desperate and hungry and wounded. She lets him kiss her like she is his oxygen, like he needs it. Adamek breaks contact, looking into her eyes.
And Nazirah thinks she just might need it too.
When Adamek bends his head a second time, Nazirah meets him halfway. She kisses him back. She feels the surprised intake of his breath, the electric tingle and crackle and pop. He props her up higher. She wraps her legs around him, trying to get as close as possible.
Their kisses are sloppy, frantic, and delirious. Months of pent-up emotion, finally come to fruition. Both know this deluded fantasy cannot last. It’s a minute to midnight and reality is knocking. Nazirah slides her fingers past his shoulders, trails them along his jaw, tugging his hair. Adamek moans into the back of her throat. He leaves her lips, kissing a wet trail down her neck and chest. Nazirah arches into him. It feels so right, but –
The clock strikes.
“Get off.”
Nazirah shoves his shoulders hard with renewed vigor. She untangles her legs, body tense. Nazirah puts her hands over her face, sucking her bee-stung, shamed lips. Adamek steps away, putting her down. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
Nazirah is suddenly insanely angry. “What’s wrong?” she yells. “This is what’s wrong! We’re wrong!”
“Nation.…”
Adamek reaches for her hand, but she slaps his away. “Don’t touch me!” she screams, mind racing. “This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” Her eyes are dark and wild, lips bruised and spitting inaccuracies.
“My plan?” he asks coldly. “And what plan is that?”
“The same one since I met you!” she shouts, feeling reckless, malicious. “Sacrifice a scratch on your hand for a notch on your bedpost? What was it you said again in Rafu? ‘Knock me down from my self-constructed pedestal?’ Tell everyone you conquered the frigid prude Nazirah Nation, scared little virgin who gave up everything to Adamek Morgen because she couldn’t control herself? That’s it … the power you wanted from the start!”
“Is that what you really believe?”
“I don’t know what to believe!” she cries. “You save my life one day, threaten to kill me the next! It’s exhausting being around you! Just be honest with me for once!”
“Be honest?” he asks. “How about be honest with yourself?”
“What do you –”
“Tell me, Irri,” Adamek mocks, “tell me the real reason you were roaming around my thoughts to begin with. Why you asked Solomon about me. Why you went back to the monastery.”
“I told you already,” she snaps; “I was curious! I needed to know I could trust you!”
“Liar! You’ve been searching high and low for something – anything! – to latch onto! Something to redeem me, make me less of a monster in your eyes. Something to make this pesky attraction you have for me acceptable. But you can’t find it, Nation.” He leans into her, whispers, “Because I am a monster.”
“You’re wrong!”
“Am I?” he asks. “Face it. You want it just as much as I do, but you’re scared. You want to be with the man you wish I were. And you’re afraid to be with the man I actually am.”
“Get out.”
“Don’t worry,” he says, throwing his arms up. He backs away from her, at the door now. “I’ll leave you, princess. Just answer me one final question.” Nazirah crosses her arms protectively. “Why wouldn’t you let me kill Ramses?”
She stiffens. “Like I said, there was already too much violence.”
“That’s what you said. But what’s the truth?”
“You want the truth?” she spits, crossing the room and standing before him.
“I want you to tell me what I already know!”
“Fine!” she says. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you killing anyone else!”
“Thank you,” he says, unreadable.
“Anytime,” she responds. “Now get the fuck out.”
