Nazirah thanks him and walks through theopen door, trying to breathe. She follows Olag for a minute or two,her mind distant. He stops in front of an unremarkable door.“Here?” she asks and he nods.

Nazirah is not ready, not ready, notready.

She must be ready.

She stares at the door, willing her body tomove. Olag stands patiently by her side, giving her all the timeshe needs. Nazirah closes her eyes, takes a shaky breath. In astrange moment of clarity, she unwinds the headscarf, letting herhair fall freely down her back in its natural waves. She hands thelong ribbon of fabric to Olag, who looks at her questioningly.

“I want him to recognize me.”

Chapter Four

The first thing Nazirah notices as she shutsthe door behind her is the room, which is small and windowless. Thewalls and floor are matte gray stone, cracked and grooved fromyears of abuse. There’s a draft coming from somewhere. Nazirahfeels goose bumps forming on her arms, even though she’s in themiddle of the desert. She sees the blinking security camera in onecorner of the ceiling and knows that Solomon is watching. Itdoesn’t reassure her.

At the center of the room is a wooden tablewith two adjacent folding chairs … one of which is currentlyoccupied. The sitting man has his back turned to her. He is wearinga traditional black prison jumpsuit and his hands are resting onthe table. Nazirah can see from the door that he is handcuffed atthe wrists. His posture is straight, but restrained. He must haveheard her come in. Yet he remains still, staring straightahead.

Nazirah doesn’t know what she has beenexpecting. Maybe for him to be dirty, covered in his own filth,bloody, chained to a wall, or sobbing in a corner. Certainly notthis calm and collected person before her. Her heart races as shewalks around the table. Palms sweating, Nazirah takes her seat,finally facing him.

Remember to breathe.

Nazirah cannot look him inthe eyes. Her attention focuses immediately on his hands, as shewrings her own in her lap. His are large and calloused, withbruised knuckles. Small black scratch marks cover the backs ofthem. Nazirah knows from the newspapers that these tattoos tallyhis number of kills. He wears them likebadges of honor, she thinks, revolted. Shefeels sick, reminded that two of those miniature lines are Riva andKasimir.

Nazirah forces her gaze upwards to his arms,which for the most part are covered by the jumpsuit. The silence isdeafening as Nazirah’s eyes skirt over the muscles outlining hisupper torso, honed from years of killing and torturing. She focuseson the pulse in his neck, the pulse that beats life into him.Nazirah wishes she could wrap her hands around his throat until shefeels that pulse slow, and then stop completely. Wishes it so badlythat she has to sit on her hands, afraid she might attack him andruin everything.

Her gaze travels further up. Past the neck,past the slight stubble that shadows a defined jaw, past the splitlip – which Nazirah notes with satisfaction; it seems Adamek Morgenhas not had the most pleasant stay in prison – past the purplebruise on his cheek which mars otherwise smooth, ivory skin. Mediskin. And still further up, past the aristocratic nose, the darkarched eyebrows and black hair.

Finally, finally, she looks him in theeyes.

They are blindingly green.

If he is surprised to see her, he doesn’tshow it. He stares at her expressionlessly. Nazirah realizes inembarrassment that he has probably been watching her all along,waiting for her to finish assessing him. Waiting for her to beready.

She is startled by how young he looks.Shouldn’t murderers be gruesome and scarred and … older? Shesearches for the guilt and torment that should have aged his face.She finds none of it. All she sees is a boy her age, maybe a fewyears older.

Not just any boy.

Every emotion flickers across Nazirah’sface. Fear, embarrassment, hate, guilt, loathing … she feels it alland it all shows. But Adamek’s face is a mask, undecipherable,impenetrable. She has never seen someone so controlled in her life.Nazirah, who has never been particularly good at hidingparticularly anything, feels completely uncomfortable. She breakseye contact with him, breathing through her nose. She needs to getout of here, fast. All of her feelings are rapidly being overtakenby one consuming emotion … rage.

What is Niko talking about? This is not theface of a reformed man! This is a monster, who obviously feels noremorse at all. And she hopes he sees it written all over her face.Adamek may fool Nikolaus, but he is not fooling her.

Nazirah pulls the amnesty pendant and afolded piece of paper, stamped with the rebellion’s wax seal, fromher pocket. She admired the pendant on the train ride to Rubiyat.It is simple, just a gold ring on a chain, with Nikolaus andAdamek’s names inscribed into it. Nazirah knows Adamek will have towear it for the rest of his life. It saddens her that something sobeautiful will forever be a part of someone so ugly.

Nazirah feels his stare, but she will notlook up again. She is not sure she can handle it, and feels ashamedthat her one chance to confront him is slipping through hertrembling fingers. Right now, all she wants to do is leave. Shewants to run – like usual, Nazirah is letting everyone she lovesdown. She hates him for it, but she hates herself more.

Nazirah sets the chain down on the table,within Adamek’s reach. Give him the chain, read the short contract,get him to sign on the line. Niko had made her repeat the stepsseveral times over before the train left the station in Krush.Nazirah recites the short list in her head, finding that the setdirections calm her nerves. She deftly breaks the seal, opens thecontract, and begins to speak.

“Adamek Morgen,” she reads, “son of Gabireland Victoria Morgen, you have entered into a binding amnestyagreement on this day, at your own behest, willingly andhonorably.” Nazirah resists the urge to snort. Sarcasm isunfortunately not on Niko’s checklist. “The terms of this contracthave been previously negotiated and agreed upon and I, NikolausNation, son of” – Nazirah’s voice cracks – “Kasimir and Riva MartelNation, pledge to you that I will honor our conditions from thisday, until my last day, should you agree. In trust, let there betruth.”

Nazirah finishes reading the shortparagraph, which is followed by the date and Nikolaus’s signaturein red ink. There is a blank line under Nikolaus’s name, indicatingwhere Adamek should sign. Nazirah sets the contract down on thetable, realizing that she doesn’t have a pen for him to use.Flustered, she searches her pockets. She feels his eyes trained onher the whole time, almost amused. Nazirah is about to go ask Olagto bring her one from the control room when Adamek speaks for thefirst time, halting her thoughts in their tracks.

“That’s not how this works.”

Nazirah looks at him in surprise andconfusion. His tone is clipped, but there is something else thereas well. Curiosity. And as Adamek stares at her, Nazirah comes tothe unnerving realization that he is curious about her. Like she issome puzzle he can’t quite solve. Nazirah watches as Adamek grabsthe chain and finds the small point in the ring that Nazirah hadthought was only for design.

Without hesitating, he stabs himself in theback of the hand with it. Nazirah’s jaw drops open and she doesn’teven try to hide her shock. Adamek dips the point into the bloodthat is now flowing from his small wound. With some difficulty,because he is still handcuffed, he writes his name on the contract.Nikolaus had not signed in red ink after all.

Nazirah thinks she mightpass out. Niko should have warned her that this was going tohappen! He should have prepared her! Justget him to sign his name, he said.That’s it, he said.Nazirah is going to give Niko a well-deserved kick in the groin thenext time she sees him.