None of these are just rumors.
Nazirah coughs, voice strained. “Well,” she begins, “Morgen and I obviously aren’t together … like that. Aldrik thought it up to garner more support on campaign. We’ve just kind of been going along with it to appease him.”
Taj smirks triumphantly. “Told you so!”
Lumi shrugs, reaching into her jeans and pulling out a wad of money. She counts off a few notes and hands them to Taj, who pockets them happily.
“You bet on that?” Nazirah screeches.
“Sorry,” Lumi says, not sounding sorry at all. “I thought it might be possible.”
“How could that ever be possible?”
“Please, Nazirah. You and Adamek have more primal tension than two NoZimans trapped in a cave during a blizzard.”
“Lumi!”
“I’m just being honest.”
“Even Cato didn’t believe me,” Nazirah says, immediately feeling guilty about mentioning him. But Lumi doesn’t seem rattled in the least. It seems these past few weeks really have changed her.
“He did have a few choice words for you when we last spoke,” Lumi states.
Nazirah groans, putting her head in her hands. “We’ve never fought like this before,” she says.
“People fight, Irri,” Taj says, “so they can make up. That’s what we do.”
“I think Cato just needed a friend,” Lumi chimes in, unusually supportive. “He really didn’t say much.”
“How is he?”
“He misses you,” she says. “I can tell. Don’t worry. You can hash it out once you finally talk tomorrow.”
“Unless we all get killed,” Taj jokes grimly. Lumi glares at him.
“Right,” Nazirah says slowly. “So anyway … that’s that. We were in a slum fire in Rafu. But I think the campaign has overall been relatively successful. Although, I’m not sure how much I’ve helped.”
“Are you kidding, Irri?” asks Taj. “I can’t speak for the other territories. But in Osen, no one has stopped talking about you since that fire. Hearing your name inspires people, gives them hope and strength. They rally around you.”
“Honestly?”
“It’s true,” Lumi agrees. “In Zima too. I don’t know if you’re aware, but Niko organized this entire propaganda campaign to promote you. Your face, your story, your suffering has been plastered all over the news, the television, the streets. Glumindo and Badoomi even managed to hack into the Medi stations a few times. People seem to find you relatable … the idiots.”
Nazirah laughs. She can always count on Lumi to tell it to her straight.
“And don’t forget about the carrier rebels,” Taj reminds Lumi.
“Carrier rebels?” asks Nazirah, overwhelmed.
“Niko dispersed dozens of them throughout the four territories,” Taj explains. “Their sole purpose for weeks now has been to instigate propaganda about the rebellion and spread rumors about you. You know, drum up support and stuff. Just the other day, I was taking a leak in the woods and a carrier told me –”
“Enough about me,” Nazirah says quickly. “Lumi, I know you’ve been working in the hospital. Taj, you’ve been here the whole time?”
“Yes,” Taj says. “Isn’t Valestream unbelievable? The entire village gains altitude every year as the trees grow.”
“I’ve never seen trunks so wide,” Lumi says, looking around.
“The trees are treated with some sort of MEDIcine,” Taj says. “It makes them grow unbelievably quickly … and strong. Valestream is the main supplier of lumber to Mediah. I’ve been helping the loggers cut the trees down, redistributing timber to the rebels so it can be dispersed throughout the territories. Everyone here is amazingly supportive.”
Nazirah has never seen either of them look so satisfied, so optimistic. She wonders if the other recruits feel this way as well, a foreign hope springing inside of her. Maybe, just maybe, they actually have a shot at winning this war. “How do the Medis feel about this redistribution?” she asks curiously.
“Well,” Taj says proudly, “we’ve been lying to them for weeks now. Telling them the winter is harder than expected, our workforce has suffered, stuff like that. Basically coming up with every excuse possible for why we aren’t meeting our quotas.”
Lumi quirks an eyebrow. “And they actually believe you?”
“Course not,” he chuckles. “But the Chancellor has his hands full, what with the anarchy in Rafu and the march to Krush. He’s trying to keep the Eridian dissent quiet as possible, not wanting the rest of the country to know how big the rebellion has become.”
“But how is Gabirel explaining the lack of resources to the capital?” asks Nazirah.
“He’s apparently saying there’s some sort of epidemic raging throughout the territories … that the government is intentionally restricting supplies because our goods are contaminated.”
Nazirah feels uneasy about the whole situation. It seems too simplistic, like they’re missing a huge piece of the puzzle. She remembers the Chancellor in Adamek’s memory, sitting leisurely beside his dead wife, smoking a cigar. Somehow, Nazirah doesn’t think Gabirel casually dismisses dissention or deception.
“How do you know all this, Taj?” Lumi asks. “They never told us anything classified at the hospital.”
“Grum told me.”
Nazirah chokes. “Grum … as in Mather Grum?”
“As in Mather Grum, whom you gave a concussion in combat training?” Taj clarifies.
“Yes.”
“That would be the one.”
Lumi makes a face. “He’s here?”
“For weeks now,” Taj says. “He’s actually not that bad. Drinks like a fish, but who doesn’t? He keeps to himself most of the time, transporting resources and intercepting information. Looking forward to a rematch, Irri?”
Nazirah is not. “I think that was just beginner’s luck,” she mumbles, recalling her much less successful encounter with Ramses.
“You underestimate yourself,” Lumi says. “You may be small, but you’re relatively smart. It was your brains that helped you win that fight with Grum, not your brawn.”
“I guess.”
Feeling the tears welling, Nazirah looks away, trying to erase the memories of Ramses … hitting her … punching her … touching her. With so much happening in the last few days, Nazirah hasn’t allowed her mind to go there. But what would have happened if Adamek hadn’t saved her?
She would be dead.
“It’s true?” Lumi whispers in shock, noticing her reaction. “What happened in the Red West? The Khan’s son tried to….” She trails off.
Nazirah nods sadly, wiping a tear away with the back of her hand. “Morgen saved me.”
Taj glances at Lumi, but she’s distracted by Nazirah’s wrist. Lumi grabs her arm, staring at Nazirah’s tattoo in disbelief. “Where did you get this?”
“An old monastery in Shizar.”
“Zero-five-one-four,” Taj reads out slowly, confused.
“Protection marks are not something to take lightly, Nazirah,” Lumi snaps.
“I’m sure loads of Zimans have them.”
Lumi shakes her head. “They don’t,” she says. “It’s like the dusza, a lost tradition. They’re extremely rare.”
“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.”