“Do you have any idea what he wants?”
Nazirah doesn’t have a chance to answer Cato, as they are interrupted for a second time. Lumi’s younger sister, Aneira, their friend Taj, and a few other recruits sit down at their table. Cato shrugs at Nazirah sympathetically, dropping the subject.
Normally, Nazirah doesn’t mind Aneira’s company. She is by far Nazirah’s favorite Grigori. Aneira has an innate sadness Nazirah empathizes with. But Nazirah really wanted to discuss her reservations with Cato before seeing Niko. Not that she would have known the answer to Cato’s question, because Niko never tells her anything.
Nazirah finishes her lunch in silence.
Chapter Two
Nazirah lies in an overgrown meadow, a ways behind headquarters. The weeds, wild flowers, and long reeds hide her in plain sight. Head resting comfortably in the crook of her arm, one ankle crossed lazily over the other, Nazirah stares at the sky for hours. The clouds roll in, expand, change shape, and roll out again. The sun slowly trails across the heavens, afternoon light dimming, fading to dusk, and then turning deep blue. The stars come out, blinking themselves awake after their day of slumber.
This field is Nazirah’s secret hiding place, accessible through a weak link in the compound’s electrified fence, discovered during her first week at headquarters. She comes here when she feels overwhelmed, when her small room is too confining, or when she just wants to escape reality for a while … or forever.
She slowly runs her hand over rough blades of yellow grass. It’s still summer, although it’s warm in Eridies regardless of the time of year. Nazirah wonders briefly what seasons feel like, if the flowers in the front yard at home are overrun with weeds. They were only beginning to bloom when she left so abruptly in April. Riva would often pluck the flowers from their small garden and braid them skillfully, weaving vines and blossoms through Nazirah’s long chestnut locks. Nazirah could never quite manage it by herself. Riva had an elegance Nazirah does not possess. And now she isn’t around to teach Nazirah anything, anymore.
Nazirah picks one of the longest blades and begins knotting the stem, occupying her hands. She thinks about Rafu, not far from here. A few days’ walk, maybe. Only an hour’s drive, if Nazirah had access to a car, which she doesn’t. Barely anyone in Rafu drives. Only the wealthiest people can afford automobiles, and the roads are so cracked and dangerous that most prefer bicycling or walking.
The roads here in Krush are smooth and paved, because they’re much closer to the capital. The lines of communication are also better in northern Eridies. Nazirah has to admit that Krush is a perfect location for the rebels to keep tabs on Mediah and interact with other territories.
Nazirah has never been to the capital before, obviously. She has never even been outside Eridies. But she has heard stories, has seen images in books and on the small television in her home.
Skytowers so tall they rise above the cloud line. Lights so powerful they blind your eyes if you look for too long. Fancy cars and heavy smog everywhere. A complex network of bullet trains carrying resources from the four territories all day and night.
Nazirah never rode in a car until the night her parents died. Nikolaus, with his deep Eridian connections, had known about their parents’ murder almost as soon as Nazirah had. He came for her in a car, not an hour after she discovered them.
Nazirah remembers sitting on the porch, face red and raw from crying. She remembers the neighbors looking at her through their windows, pitying her, but unwilling to risk their lives by offering her comfort or shelter. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t go inside, couldn’t watch the paramedics bagging the bodies. But she couldn’t just leave, either.
There, on her front step, the chorus of guilt that has plagued Nazirah for months began playing the first chords of its death march. What if she stayed home that night and hadn’t snuck out? What if she was there to defend her parents? Why hadn’t she joined the rebellion sooner? Why hadn’t she kissed her mother goodbye? When was the last time she told her father she loved him? Why wasn’t she a better daughter?
So she sat, completely numb, and waited for absolution.
She is still waiting.
Niko arrived in a black sedan. He said nothing, just hugged her for the first time in years. Nazirah could tell he had cried, but when she saw him, his face was dry.
And that was it. He ushered her into the car, which made her even dizzier and more nauseous, and took her to Krush … to headquarters. Nazirah made him pull over several times so she could throw up on the side of the road.
They returned a few days later for the funeral. Since her parents were interracially married, they were banned from having a traditional Eridian burial. So Riva and Kasimir were cremated, and the two surviving Nations spread their ashes into the ocean behind their home. Following an old Eridian custom, Nazirah and Nikolaus lit paper lanterns on the beach and watched them gently float into the night sky.
Nazirah could not gather the strength to enter their home, so Nikolaus retrieved her clothing and belongings. They told no one, invited no one, but people still showed up by the hundreds. Family friends, acquaintances, Cato and his family, neighbors, and students that Riva taught over the years all came to say tearful goodbyes. Then the news vans had come from all over the country, lining the street like caravans. The story was national news, because the government wanted to use Kasimir and Riva’s death as a demonstration for the four territories:
This is what happens when you step out of line.
Two small headstones were erected in the sand dunes behind the Nation’s home, overlooking the azure sea. Nazirah yearns to go there again, to run her fingers over the smooth black stones, to feel closer to the deceased.
At times, Nazirah finds herself unable to recall the exact pitch of her father’s booming laugh, or the precise shade of her mother’s honey eyes. She finds herself forgetting. And of all the things that scare her, this scares her most.
Nazirah rises slowly, shaking and stretching the stiffness from her limbs. She takes her time walking back, uneager to return to headquarters. She came to the field directly after lunch, skipping both dinner and Territory History. Her teacher, Ms. Bairs, probably wants to strangle Nazirah by now, but Nazirah knows Cato will cover for her. He covers for her a lot, because Nazirah cannot muster any enthusiasm for participating in recruit training. She does the bare minimum to get by. And, although her teachers initially let her absences slide, they are quickly losing patience.
Nazirah enters through the back door of the main building and walks through the deserted hallways. Exiting the staircase on the floor that houses the girls’ dormitories, she briefly checks the time.
7:15pm.
There’s still over an hour to kill before she meets Niko.
Nazirah pushes open the door to her bedroom and throws herself onto the bed, shoes still on. She misses her room at home. It was south facing, and her windows were always open to let in the salty breeze. Here, her room is tight and cramped. It has none of the comforts of home, for Niko didn’t think to bring anything besides her clothes. Her window faces a solid brick wall.
Only in this room does Nazirah cry.
In solitude, she allows herself to fully experience her guilt, grief, and loneliness. She felt lost before her parents died, in the way that an average intermix girl with few options in life and a huge chip on her shoulder feels lost sometimes. She would rebel against her parents, not listen to their advice, and sneak out of the house … just to assert her independence and power in a world where she truthfully had none.
Now, she is truly lost.
So lost that living feels more like dying.
So lost that Nazirah doesn’t remember the person she once was, much less know how to find her.
#
An hour later, Nazirah drags herself out of bed. She feels worse than she did before, and considers blowing Niko off and going right back to sleep. But Nazirah knows he will come banging on her door, eyes and neck veins bulging, demanding to know why she didn’t show up.