Nazirah looks away.
“But it’s not all I believe, no.”
“You talk about love and power like they’re the same thing.”
“Aren’t they?” he asks. “Isn’t love just the highest expression of power? The power over someone’s heart, over someone’s soul?”
“No,” Nazirah argues, annoyed, suddenly reminded to whom she’s speaking. “In fact, they’re opposites. To have power over someone is to use them for selfish purposes, for personal gain. To love someone is to sacrifice for them, to be selfless, to give up all power. They’re completely different.”
“Spoken by someone who’s never been in love.”
“And what would a Medi know of love?”
“And what would an intermix know of a Medi?”
“I know enough,” she says, bitterness creeping into her voice.
“So you say.”
“You don’t believe in an afterlife, then?”
He breaks eye contact first this time, unusually at a loss for words. “I never said that.”
She sips again. “So you do?”
“I’d like to believe in nothing,” Adamek says, after a moment. “But how can existence simply end when we die? It doesn’t logically make sense for us to be and then just not … be anymore. I believe, like you probably do, that our actions in life have consequences in death. That, in the end, we will all be judged.”
Nazirah is getting uncomfortable; this isn’t where she was expecting the conversation to go. But she’s curious about him. And, in a rare moment of openness, he is providing some insight. “The Eridians are a peaceful race,” Nazirah replies. “They believe that individual actions have consequences in life, but that the soul is always pure and at peace in the afterlife.”
“But you aren’t Eridian,” Adamek points out. “At least, not fully.” His voice is even but his eyes are inquisitve. “Can you honestly tell me that’s what you believe? That amnesty always carries over, even in death? That everyone, no matter how terrible their actions, gets a reprieve?”
Nazirah knows what he’s asking. Does she really believe that he, Adamek, will face no judgment at the end of his life, when the time comes for him to make his peace with the gods? “I don’t know what I believe,” she whispers.
“You’ll figure it out,” he says.
“Is that why you got the dusza?” she asks him suddenly. “Because you’re worried about your soul?” It’s out of her mouth and she can’t take it back. Surprise registers on his face for a second and then is gone.
“Perhaps,” he says. Adamek stands, the strain of the night clear in his movements.
Nazirah follows. She wonders what this must be like for him, to see death from the other side of the coin.
Not there for the kill, but for the fallout.
“Do you think it’ll work?”
Adamek is silent for a long time before he responds. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
“Irri!”
Cato shouts from the distance, looking anxious and worried. Nazirah waves at him reassuringly, turning back to Adamek one last time. “I’ve never been in love,” she says quietly. Nazirah doesn’t know why she’s saying this, but she knows she wants him to hear it. “But I have loved and I know enough about it to understand.… I had the best teachers.”
She begins walking away. Adamek lightly grabs her arm, stopping her. “The best teacher is life,” he says, so quietly that Nazirah struggles to hear him. “And you haven’t lived enough to know much of anything yet.”
“You’re a year older than me, Morgen,” Nazirah responds crossly. She pulls her arm away. “And you have?”
“It’s not a matter of age,” he says. “That’s not what I mean.”
“And what exactly do you mean?”
“Irri!” yells Cato again, interrupting them. “What are you doing?”
“You should get some rest,” Adamek says, dismissing her question.
Nazirah huffs, knowing she won’t get any more answers from him tonight. She looks at the empty mug in her hand. “Thanks for the poison,” she says, giving him a crooked smile before turning to leave.
#
Aneira’s funeral is solemn and moving. Lumi and Yuki make heartfelt, unscripted speeches about Aneira’s short but meaningful life, her intelligence, her keen observance, her patience and her spirit. They pray she’s in a better place, a happier place. They promise to honor her through their actions. As they speak, Nazirah makes her own vow. She promises to stop messing around, to stop being concerned with only her life, to stop running from everything that frightens her.
She will fight.
She will not be passive in this war anymore, because she knows what happens when she is. Another life lost, another weight added onto her already slumping shoulders. The guilt grows heavier and Nazirah’s heart grows heavier too.
She spots Adamek in the crowd, sitting alone in the last row. His hands are clenched and he stares at them. Nazirah thinks about their strange conversation. She wonders what it all means. She wonders why she cares when, only a few days ago, she was revolted by him. She wonders what’s changed.
She thinks it might be her.
Following Eridian tradition, floating lanterns are lit and released. It’s a haunting way to say goodbye. Nazirah watches the lanterns drift across the sky, spreading twilight in the air. She sees Lumi alone at a nearby picnic table. Nazirah sits down, not saying anything. She just wants to be there for her. Their differences seem so petty now.
“This is my fault,” Lumi says sadly. Nazirah wants to tell her that it’s not her fault, that she can’t blame herself. But she knows exactly how Lumi feels. And she knows from her own experience that those words won’t help. “I’ve been so selfish lately,” Lumi continues, staring at her delicate hands. “I’ve been selfish my entire life.”
Nazirah glances at Adamek, who is consoling Lord Grigori. “We can’t control the actions of others,” she says.
Lumi shakes her head, dams bursting from her eyes. “No, Nazirah! That’s no excuse. I’ve been running from the pain when I should have been facing it and protecting my family! I’ve failed my sisters … I’ve failed myself.”
“No one knew what Ani was going through,” Nazirah says. She knows it’s the wrong thing to say as soon as it leaves her mouth. Lumi glares blue icicles.
“I should have known,” she growls, pointing a finger inwards. “She was my sister! I should have known!”
Nazirah gently encloses Lumi’s hand within her own. “Lumi, what happened to Ani is awful and tragic. But she wouldn’t want you to live your life in her sadness. She would want you to move on, to make sure Yuki grows up happy. You have to be stronger than your sister was. You have to find that inner strength. When we get our final assignment next month, take some time away from here. Give yourself an opportunity to think about what it is you want … what’s best for you and your family.”
“I just wish my mother were still here,” Lumi cries. “She always knew what to do. I can only ever hope to be like her. But I’m sure you know exactly how that feels.”
“I do.”
Nazirah remembers Riva, her warmth and compassion. Inspiration flowed from her fingertips like milk and wisdom dripped from her mouth like honey. Lumi laughs bitterly, tracing the wood grain of the table. “One thing we have in common.”
“I’m sure there are other things,” Nazirah says, smiling. “We just have to find them.”
Lumi picks her fingernails. “What I’ve been doing lately, Nazirah, seems so stupid now. I was hoping to make Cato jealous. But Cato doesn’t even see me.”
“Cato’s oblivious to pretty much everything.”
“Not when it comes to you,” Lumi says.
“You’d be surprised,” Nazirah replies. “Sometimes you really have to spell things out for him.”
“Should I tell him I slept with Adamek?”
Nazirah coughs awkwardly. “That’s up to you. Morgen can be very persuasive when he wants.”
“I approached him, actually,” she says.
“Really?”
Lumi shrugs. “I heard the rumors, needed the release.”