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.
Nazirah breathes in, then sits up abruptly. It took her awhile to realize. But it doesn’t smell like her, past or present. She gets up, looks around cautiously. Everything seems to be in place, but Nazirah knows something isn’t right.
Someone has recently been in her room. A neighbor? One of the Caals? What if the Medis know she’s here? Nazirah hurries down the stairs, exits through the back door. She passes Riva’s porch swing, watches as the ocean crashes onto the surf. She should not have come. But Nazirah will be leaving soon. There’s only one more place she needs to go.