“Tell me!” Nazirah cries, voice high andpleading.

And he does.

“Adamek Morgen.”

Chapter Three

Nazirah looks out the dirty bus window. Theearly morning light streaks and highlights her face in patches. Herlong brown hair is hidden under a crimson headscarf, which istraditional for native women in the Red West. She tries to appearrelaxed, like she’s made this journey dozens of times. If anyonewere to glance at Nazirah for more than an instant, however, theywould realize she’s no Deathlander. But as people shuffle onto thebus and find seats, they don’t pay her any notice.

Red Westerners are dark skinned, their brownfaces warmed by the hot desert sun. They have a melodic lilt totheir accents, so every sentence sounds like a song. The women wearhenna on their hands, jangling bells on their feet. They move witha natural, fluid rhythm.

Everything about the Red West isintoxicating. Nazirah has only seen images of this part of thecountry before. She probably would have learned more about it inTerritory History, had she ever bothered to go.

Nazirah remembers one evening when she was alittle girl. Kasimir traded all day in the illegal marketplace andbrought home a Red Westerner to join them for dinner. The peddlerdelighted Nazirah and Nikolaus with fascinating tales of hishomeland. He showed the Nation children the Red West tattoo on hisforearm, a gleaming red sun. Kasimir had his own, a white tree fromOsen, as did Riva, a black fish from Eridies. All territory-borncitizens receive a tattoo on their forearms when they turnthirteen, so that the Medis can easily identify the races, and morereadily instigate propaganda. Intermix tattoos are forbidden.

The peddler explained why the Red West iscommonly referred as the Deathlands. He said it was because ashaman long ago cursed the territory, so that any man with illintentions who crossed its border would instantly perish. Yearslater, Nazirah learned the real reason is because the desert is soarid that no life can easily survive. But the man’s story stayedwith her long after he had gone, and she always associated the RedWest with magic, mystery, and strangeness.

Before the peddler departed, he gave Naziraha small memento: broken mosaic tiles in a jar. Nazirah thought itwas the most beautiful thing she had ever seen and immediatelyplaced it on her dresser. She would take the tiles out every sooften, carefully sifting them through her fingers, imagining shecould smell exotic spices wafting her way. She begged Kasimir totake her to the Red West, but her parents forbade it.

And here she is, years later, traveling onher own through the Deathlands. White clay houses standperpendicular to the hilly ground in a jagged line, a crooked smileon the face of the horizon. Minarets and intensely blue doors andshutters add to the territory’s flavor. The aromas of spices andother smells, and the loud sounds in the outdoor market overwhelmedNazirah early that morning, as soon as she stepped off the trainand onto the platform in Rubiyat.

The red dust the territory is so infamousfor – that permanently settled in the area centuries ago from somebiological organic attack on the Old Country’s soil, which is thecause of the constant aridness and the incredibly difficult livesof the natives – is everywhere. Women hit rugs outside with woodensticks, beating away the crimson grit. Nazirah feels it in hereyes, in the pores of her skin, in the lines of her hands. Shenearly choked on the dusty blanket as she walked around, lookingfor the rundown charter bus Nikolaus hastily described to herbefore she departed Eridies.

Life in the Deathlands is an unendingbattle. It is no coincidence that the Deathlanders are knownthroughout Renatus for their brutality and violence. Water and foodare scarce. The natives are dependent upon the Medis for resources,which are never enough to adequately feed everybody. Nazirah,raised by the ocean, cannot fathom a life so devoid of water.

The rickety bus jolts to life. It groans,kicking up dust in its wake, hobbling towards the prison an hour’sride away. Nazirah clutches the amnesty pendant, recalling thechain of events that led to her arrival here.

This morning, before the crack of dawn,Nazirah journeyed by train to the largest Red West city, Rubiyat.With doctored identification that Niko had somehow procured, and abribed conductor, Nazirah had boarded the train easily.

She found her seat in a tiny compartmentnear the back, mercifully empty. For the entirety of the five-hourride, although she wanted to just lie down and recover lost sleep,Nazirah was glued to the window, watching the familiar oceanicviews of her home morph into something arresting and new.

Nazirah is momentarily roused from herthoughts. An extremely large woman in a royal purple wrap dress,with dozens of gold bangles jangling on each arm, sits down next toher. The woman unapologetically takes up half of Nazirah’s seat,squashing Nazirah into the window. She snaps her fingers, shoutingin Deathlandic at her three small children, currently running downthe center aisle of the bus, to sit across from Nazirah. Once thechildren are safely settled, Nazirah’s thoughts drift to where shehasn’t let them go since last night.

Since Niko told her she needed to comehere.

Since he said the name that changedeverything.

#

“What did you say?”

Her voice was not even a whisper, yet sharpas a blade. Nikolaus stayed silent, allowing her to process it.They both knew she heard.

“Adamek Morgen.”

Nazirah said it slowly, the name heavy onher tongue … foreign … blasphemous. Nikolaus looked at Nazirah likeshe was a cornered rattlesnake, ready to strike. The floor began tospin, dropping away. The air left the room. Nazirah’s throatconstricted, a thousand emotions overwhelming her.

Betrayed by her brother.

“No.”

Still, Nikolaus remained silent.

“No!”

Nazirah shoved Nikolaus, her all-consumingrage vivid upon her face. She screamed incoherently, grabbing thefront of his shirt. He was a full two heads taller than she, butshe didn’t care. She wanted to claw his eyes out.

“You would offer amnesty,” she growled, “tothe man who killed our parents?”

And there it was.

Once Nazirah said it out loud, it becamereal. Adamek Morgen, murderer of Riva and Kasimir Nation, wouldwalk free, without so much as a slap on the wrist. At the hands oftheir own son. And Nazirah, in the bitterest twist of irony, wouldnever have her vengeance.

Nazirah’s legs buckled, collapsed underneathher as she fell to the floor. Nikolaus wrapped his arms under hers,steadying her, protecting her. But Nazirah could not look at him,she was so disgusted. She sat on the floor, staring blankly.Nikolaus slowly bent on one knee before her. He grabbed hershoulders, but she turned her face away. Nikolaus tilted her chin,forcing her to look him in the eye.

“Irri,” he said, “I don’t expect you tounderstand this. Yes, he killed Riva and Kasimir. But the rebelshave offered amnesty to many murderers before him. He turnedhimself in a few days ago, and is prepared to offer us hissubstantial riches and all of his knowledge and connections. Youknow who his father is. You know what this means for us.”

“Don’t touch me, Nikolaus! I am so ashamedof you!”

“Nazirah, the rules are the rules,” Nikolaussaid. “I am bound as Commander to offer him the same terms that wewould offer any other person who requests amnesty. I’m not exactlythrilled either, but it’s what’s fair.”

“Fair?” Nazirah yelled. “What’s fair wouldbe to cut his heart out, Nikolaus, and then feed it to him! Not togive him a goddamn reprieve! How could you trust him? His father isthe fucking Chancellor of the entire country! He probably sent himto spy on us! Why else would he ever join us?”

“Nazirah,” Nikolaus said, “you know I can’ttell you the conditions of the agreement. I’m under oath. But thetime of our rebellion has finally come. We’ve worked towards thisfor years – decades – and Adamek Morgen is the missing link we needto set everything in motion. You and I, we must think beyondourselves, and do what is right for the greater good.” Nikolaustouched her arm, but Nazirah shrugged his hand away. Frustrated,Nikolaus rose quickly, stepping over her legs towards the exit.“I’ll expect you outside in front at 5:00am sharp,” he said fromthe door. “Don’t be late. And try to get some sleep.”