Authors: M.P. Attardo
Tags: #romance, #young adult, #dystopia, #future, #rebellion, #future adventure, #new adult, #insurgent, #dystopia fiction
“I still don’t see what the big deal is.”
“Look,” Lumi says, pointing to the symbol.
“This is the mark of whoever gave this to you. It’s not just a
tattoo, Nazirah. It’s an unbreakable bond. Zimbaba believe they
literally sacrifice a piece of their souls to the gods, in order to
offer protection. It’s not something one typically gives a
stranger.”
“He never said anything like that,” Nazirah
says, rubbing her wrist. “He said it was protection given by my
kin.”
Lumi shrugs. “Maybe that’s what he considers
himself.”
Nazirah thinks of the monkey, nameless, life
shrouded in mystery. With scarred and blackened hands he called her
daughter. The monkey strayed from the path but somehow returned to
it. Is it in Nazirah to deny Adamek that same chance?
Is it in her to give it to him?
“Speaking of kin,” Taj says, “There’s the
kinsa here, a ways down.”
“Kinsa?” asks Lumi.
“A sacred Oseni shrine,” he answers.
“Basically a circle of trees around some stones. It’s how the Oseni
honor their loved ones. It’s pretty interesting. You might want to
check it out before we leave tomorrow.”
Nazirah rises, stretching her arms. “That’s
brilliant, Taj.” She smiles. “My father was from Valestream, did
you know? Kasimir loved the pebbles I collected from my walks on
the beach, said they reminded him of the kinsa from his childhood.
It’s the main reason my mother put them all over our cottage … like
we were bringing a little piece of Osen to Rafu.”
Taj and Lumi stare at Nazirah oddly. In all
the time they’ve known her, she has never spoken so freely about
her parents. “Do you want to go now?” he asks, shooting Lumi
another glance.
Nazirah sighs. “No, I should probably go
check in with Aldrik and Morgen. We’re meeting with some Oseni
tomorrow morning, so I’m sure they want my head by now. I’ll go
later, though.”
“Irri,” Taj says, “don’t miss the loggers’
bonfire tonight. You can show your face and appease Aldrik. It’ll
be a good time … a final hurrah, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she agrees, smiling. “I’ll see you
both later.”
Nazirah waves goodbye, lazily humming an
Oseni melody. She turns, walking towards the building Aldrik and
Adamek entered. Back facing Lumi and Taj, Nazirah doesn’t see their
bewildered expressions, their exchange of pointed looks. She
doesn’t witness Lumi’s self-satisfied smirk. She doesn’t notice Taj
reaching reluctantly into his pocket, returning the money he won
and then some.
#
Nazirah interacts with various Oseni at the
bonfire, hearing them recount their struggles. She wants to meet
them, these men and women who resemble Kasimir in shape and spirit.
And they, shockingly, want to meet her too. Countless intermix and
Oseni approach Nazirah, wishing to shake her hand, touch her, thank
her. Grum shoots Nazirah scathing looks. He and Aldrik eventually
leave, heading brusquely for the nearest canopy tavern. Adamek
doesn’t make an appearance.
An hour or two pass. Nazirah spends the
remaining time with Lumi and Taj, drinking hot cider around the
fire. The Oseni sing about their homeland, deep voices resounding
through the forest, steins clanking and overflowing with mead.
Nazirah follows along, off-key. Their voices bring tears to her
eyes, spilling love and regret. Tomorrow afternoon, the campaign
will finally return to Krush, to whatever fate awaits it there. And
Nazirah gets the distinct, unsettling feeling that her hourglass is
nearly spent.
The Oseni disperse as the fire dies,
sloughing off the grease of the day, trekking towards slumber and
higher ground. Lumi and Taj rise, calling it a night. “Irri, you
coming?” he asks.
Nazirah gets up as well. “I’m actually going
to find that kinsa.”
“Do you want company?”
“Thanks, Lumi, but I’d rather go by
myself.”
“See you tomorrow, Irri,” Taj says kindly,
taking Lumi’s hand.
Nazirah quirks an eyebrow, smiles.
“Goodnight, guys.”
Nazirah treks down a worn dirt path in the
direction Taj points out. There’s cloaked darkness, but patches of
moonbeams guiding her way. Yet even in the shadows, Nazirah doesn’t
feel alone. Even the quiet here isn’t quiet. The forest breathes
life, especially in this latest hour.
As she walks, Nazirah notices that her sight
is improving, as though the trees themselves emanate light. They
become thicker, older, leaves disappearing. The branches knot,
twist, and bend shape. The bark peels, lightening from mahogany to
ash to silver. Nazirah touches the lustrous, sterling trunks. These
trees must be sacred for the Oseni to not cut them down. The Medis
would kill for something so beautiful.
Nazirah enters a clearing, a ring of pure
white trees before her. She recognizes them instantly, immortalized
in the tattoo that marked Kasimir’s arm. She squeezes through,
running her fingers over the glittering ivory bark that radiates
starlight. The trees house the kinsa, a shallow circular pool
filled with thousands of black pebbles and stones. Kasimir spoke
often about it, had hoped to take Nazirah and Nikolaus there one
day. All Oseni travel to Valestream in their lifetimes to visit the
kinsa and offer names to the gods of honor and protection.
Nazirah walks to the edge of the pool, its
fluorescent water glowing in the dark. She always thought the
electric blue water was one of Kasimir’s tall tales, but it really
does exist.
Nazirah glances across the pool, finds she
is not alone. He stands a few yards away, barefoot, jeans rolled at
the ankle. His eyes are closed, head bent in prayer. “It’s rude to
stare, Nation,” Adamek says plainly, looking up.
“How did you know it was me?” she asks.
“How could I not?”
“Did you offer any names?”
“What do you mean?”
Nazirah bends down, unlacing her boots and
pulling them off. She rolls up her jeans. Retrieving the dagger
from her back pocket, she scrapes some bark off a nearby tree.
Returning the knife, Nazirah steps into the kinsa and wades over to
him, water splashing her calves.
“Give me your hands,” she says. Adamek
slowly holds them out, black scratches visible in the blue light.
Nazirah turns them over gently. “This side,” she whispers. Nazirah
rubs the ivory bark over his palms, diamond dust on skin. Then she
does it to herself.
“How do you know to do this?”
“Kasimir,” she replies simply. From her
jacket, Nazirah pulls out four black stones she took from the mason
jar before the bonfire. She places one in his hand, keeping the
rest.
“What do I do with it?”
“You’re
curious
today,” Nazirah says
pointedly. She turns the three rocks in her hands. Crumbled white
bark meets black stone. Nazirah picks one up. “Aneira,” she says,
before gently skipping it across the pool. It makes a soft splash
when it finally sinks. Nazirah closes her fist around the remaining
stones. She kisses her knuckles twice, two teardrops fall. “Riva,
Kasimir,” she says softly, skipping them as well.
The waters below dance across the planes of
Adamek’s face. He turns the final stone in his hand. “Is this for
her?” he asks.
“I thought maybe you would want to say
goodbye.”
He shuts his eyes, closing his fist. Kissing
his hand, he whispers the name before skipping the stone. He
watches it sink to its final resting place. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I loved her.”
“I know.”
“My father may have pulled the trigger,” he
says, “but I sealed her fate. It was my karma, for thinking I could
play God with no consequences. It seems He isn’t so forgiving after
all.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Would it matter if I said no?”
“Yes.”
“Fine, then.”
“How do you deal with the guilt?”
He laughs bitterly. “Isn’t it obvious,
Nation? I don’t.”
“Then what do you pray for?”
Adamek seems conflicted, unsure. Nazirah is
reminded of how young he is, only nineteen. He is still a teenager,
a kid forced to grow up too soon.
Like her.
“Salvation,” he says candidly. “Redemption,
forgiveness.” He shakes his head. “Take your pick.”
“And you think you deserve these things?”
“I pray for them,” he answers, “despite what
I think.”
“But you have the dusza,” she says. “It
shouldn’t matter.”
“There are many ways to break the soul.”
She hesitates. “Do you regret any of
it?”
He looks at her, steady. “I regret all of
it.”
It is the answer she has been seeking for
months, since she first met him in the prison, since before that.
Nazirah believes every word, but feels absolutely no different. She
whispers, “I think I knew that already.”
Nazirah has kept something locked away deep
inside. She never planned on letting it see the light. But it has
turned from dull itch to insatiable thirst. And since their
argument last night, Nazirah knows she needs it to move forward.
She’s sprinting towards the edge of the cliff, but it’s the only
way off this plateau. She grabs his hands again, flipping them
around and tracing the scratches. Adamek tenses like he knows
what’s coming. “Don’t say it.”
“Show me.”
It is a plea, a command, a desire, an
apology.
Adamek wrenches his hands away. He begs,
“Don’t ask this of me.”
Her mind is made up. “I need to see it,” she
says. “Please.”
They sit on Adamek’s bed, still barefoot,
nestled high in the treetops. His room at the lodge is isolated,
probably by request. They had to walk across numerous bridges and
climb several sets of stairs to get here. Nazirah’s own room
resides much closer to the ground and civilization. There are no
windows here, but one of the walls is entirely open, providing a
breathtaking view of the forest. Nazirah leans against the
headboard, watching tree branches sway in the breeze. Adamek sits
across from her. The silver briefcase rests innocuously between
them.
He traces the steel. “I knew this day would
come,” he says. Nazirah doesn’t respond. She reaches between them
and enters the code, unlocking the case. Adamek only shakes his
head. He removes two filled syringes and the glass cube, then
slides the case under the bed. Adamek sticks Nazirah in the vein,
then himself, and discards the syringes. “You injected yourself?”
he asks curiously. “When you looked into my memory?”
“It’s not like I could exactly ask Niko to
do it for me.”
“What about Caal?”
“Of course not,” she retorts. “He doesn’t
even know. That was private.”
“Yes,” he says. “It
was
.”
“Why do you replay that memory over and
over?” she asks, watching him clear the Iluxor. Adamek touches the
top, concentrating. It fills with the familiar, swirling mist,
glittering in the darkness.
“For the same reason you need to see this
one,” he answers. “For closure … for a reminder.”
“A reminder?”
“To that doubtful part inside of you,” he
says darkly. “How much you really do crave vengeance.”
Adamek reaches for her hand but Nazirah
pulls it away, suddenly afraid. She feels completely unprepared. He
sighs, grabbing the rungs of the headboard on either side of her
head.
“Is it really bad?” she asks softly.
“That’s an impossible question.”
Adamek rests his forehead against hers,
closing his eyes. Nazirah shuts hers as well, inhaling his scent of
cardamom and sage. She whispers, “Nothing has to change.”
Adamek waits another moment before pulling
back. His eyes flit over her face, memorizing every last freckle,
fleck, and hue. He takes her hand in his, places them both onto the
glass.
“Everything has to change.”
#
Something is burning.
Nazirah opens her eyes and pulls her hand
away from Adamek, who stands before her silently. She’s in the
front garden of her cottage, which is blossoming with gardenias and
jasmine. Riva opens a window, scowling in frustration as she clears
out smoke from the kitchen. Nazirah watches Riva relocate to the
living room. Kasimir follows her, laughing. Nazirah’s heart swells,
practically bursting at the sight of them.
Something creaks to her right. Nazirah
turns, watches Adamek Morgen stroll through the rusty gate and up
the porch steps. He’s dressed exactly like she expects, all in
black with fingerless gloves on. A luxury car is parked out front,
still running. He isn’t even trying to be discreet. Coming here to
kill her parents is an inconvenience, nothing else. Adamek stops at
the door, listening closely.
“I can’t believe I forgot about the bread,
Kas,” Riva says faintly.
“Your mind is preoccupied,” Kasimir replies.
“She’ll be home soon.”
“Idiots,” Adamek says. He retrieves a
foreign device from his pocket, waves it over the door. The door
unlocks instantly. Nazirah is propelled inside by the memory. She
can hear her parents talking, out of sight, mere feet away.
“Nazirah Nation,” Kasimir bellows. “Get your
scrawny behind in here!”
“Have we come to face the music?” Riva
snaps.
Adamek smirks, retrieving a pistol from his
jacket. He loads the chamber, racks the slide, and steps into the
room. “We could say that,” he mocks.
Shock crosses Kasimir’s face. He stands,
fearless, shielding Riva. “I know who you are, Adamek Morgen!” he
proclaims. “Let my wife go, you bastard! Take me!”
Adamek stifles a yawn. “My parents were
actually married when I was conceived,” he says. “But I appreciate
the concern.”
He pulls the trigger, shooting Kasimir in
the chest. Kasimir slumps to the floor, lifeless. Riva cries out as
blood splatters her beautiful face. She sinks down beside her dead
husband, sobbing, holding him in her frail arms. Eridian teardrops
fall, intermixing with Oseni blood. “Devil!” she wails, fire in her
eyes. “Your day will come!”