Intermix Nation

They walk into his bedroom, drippingdisasters or miracles. Adamek heads for the door, intent on takingher back. “Can I stay here tonight?” she asks.

He stops, doesn’t respond. Nazirah considersforgetting the idea entirely, but Adamek suddenly walks to hisdresser. He pulls out a pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirtand hands them to her. Turning his back, he begins unbuckling hisbelt.

Nazirah unzips her dress, stepping gingerlyout of the torn, wet fabric. She stares at it sadly before pickingit up and folding it over a nearby armchair. Nazirah pulls on thepants. They’re way too big for her, and she rolls them severaltimes around the waist and ankles. She slips the shirt over herhead, turning around. Adamek has changed into a dry pair ofsweatpants by now, but his back is still to her. It doesn’tsurprise Nazirah at all.

“You can turn around now,” she says.

Nazirah walks over to Adamek’s bed andawkwardly rests on the mattress. She feels the gentle, concaveshift in the mattress as he lies beside her. Their backs face eachother, the negative space between them telling a wordless story.Nazirah falls asleep to the sound of his steady breathing.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Eyes closed, Nazirah desperately clutcheselusive, sweet sleep. She lies in bed, letting birds chirp andbright light drench her face. Last night’s events barge into hermind, greeting good morning. But it all seems so distant, like afading dream. It’s unsettling how safe she feels here, withhim.

Something brushes her outstretched arm. Sheopens her eyes. Her body shifted position during the night, turningtowards Adamek like a sunflower bending towards the sun. Shewatches him, already awake, keeping her breathing relaxed, feelinglike she is intruding on something sacred and private. Diligentpupil, he studies her, lightly skimming his fingers down her arm,tracing the purpling bruises. He lays his palm flat against hermuch smaller hand, completely lost in thought. He sizes it up,weaving his fingers through hers, in and out and in again.

She laces her hand with his, interlockingtheir fingers. He looks up. Their eyes meet for the first time incold daylight. The feeling is too intense and Nazirah pulls herhand away. He doesn’t resist.

Banging at the door jolts them both fullyawake, back to reality. Nazirah knows they have mere moments beforethis card house of theirs collapses. There’s muffled shouting.Adamek casually inspects his bandaged arm. Nazirah sits up,groaning, holding her throbbing head. A key jangles in the lock.Nazirah becomes aware that she is wearing Adamek’s clothes. Shesmells like him, is in his bed, beside him. It’s too much.

The door swings open with a crack and bang.“Morgen!” shouts Aldrik, barging into the room. “You’d better bedecent! I don’t care what whore you have in –” He stops in histracks. “Here.”

In absolutely any other situation, Nazirahwould revel in seeing Aldrik’s jiggling potbelly protruding fromhastily thrown-on pajamas. She would rejoice in his eye patch,askew, in his remaining hair shocked straight to one side of hishead. Any other time, she would bask in the look of totalastonishment on his face.

But not now.

Open-mouthed he stands, face like a fish onland, foot hovering midair for several seconds. Solomon and Olagare right behind him, peeping nervously through the doorway. Fromthe horrified look on Solomon’s face, Nazirah knows she must lookpretty roughed up. Gathering his wits, Aldrik slams his foot downin fury. He storms across the room to Adamek, who rises to facehim. Aldrik digs a hand into his injured arm.

“You didn’t feel the need to tell me lastnight?” Aldrik snarls.

“I did not.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, you traitorousfuck,” he screams, face purple, “I’m in charge here!” Nazirah cansee the spit flying from his mouth.

“You were … preoccupied,” Adamek says.“Nation needed rest.”

“I can see that.”

From the protruding vein in Adamek’s neck,Nazirah knows he wants to slam Aldrik’s head into the floor, muchlike he did to Ramses. His fists remain balled at his sides. “Get alife, Slome.”

“Morgen,” Aldrik hisses, digging his hand indeeper, “if you ever pull something like this again, I don’t carewho the fuck you are or how much money you have … no amount ofamnesty will protect you. Understand?”

Adamek nods tersely. Aldrik releases hisshoulder, wheeling around menacingly. Nazirah quickly scrambles outof bed.

“And you!” Aldrik points a fat, aggressivefinger in her face. “The Commander said you could be a littlereckless. But you, Nation, are an absolute dolt! You honestlythought it was smart to go on a little tryst with the late Khan’seldest son? You seriously hate Morgen so much you would risk yourown life and jeopardize the entire campaign, the entire rebellion,just to spite him?”

“That’s not what happened!”

“Shut up!” he yells. “I don’t know what gameyou two are playing with each other, and I honestly don’t care! Doyou understand what may have happened if Morgen killed Ramses,destroying three generations of overlord bloodline? The Deathlandscould have revolted against us! As it is, Solomon’s healerscouldn’t help him! They had to smuggle him into Mediah last nightin order to save him! Do you understand how many strings Solomonhad to pull, how many people had to be bribed, had to die, to makethat happen? And even then, there’s only so much the Medi healerscan do … only so much they will do for a Deathlander.”

“So I was supposed to just let him rape me?”she screams.

“You put yourself in that position!” Aldrikretorts. “And sometimes, sacrifices need to be made!” He stepscloser. “Next time you’re that stupid, you lie on your back andtake what’s coming to you.”

“I would rather die first,” she spits.

“That may very well happen.”

Nazirah stalks out, fuming. She ignoresSolomon calling after her. Safely in her room, she hunches againstthe door, breathing hard. Standing up, she rips off Adamek’sclothes, practically ru

All of them.

Nazirah scrubs herself raw, humiliated,infuriated, and entirely confused. Standing before the bathroommirror, she wipes away the condensation droplets and stares at herbattered self. Her limbs resemble a morose watercolor painting. Herface is a portrait of abuse. It won’t inspire thousands of intermixto join the rebellion. If anything, it will send them ru

Nazirah groans in resignation. She dressesin a long sleeve shirt and dark jeans, covering what bruises shecan. Just as she finishes lacing up her boots, Nazirah hears a softrapping at her door. From the politeness of the knock, she knows itis Solomon. As soon as she lets him in, he wraps his small framearound hers. Nazirah immediately bursts into tears. She collapsesonto the plush rug, sobbing into his arms.

“This is my fault, Miss Nation,” Solomonsays, eyes glistening. Dark circles frame his eyes. “I invitedKhanto’s extended family. I should have known better. I am trulysorry.”

Nazirah gently takes his hands. “I don’taccept your apology, Solomon,” she says, “Because you have nothingto apologize for. You’ve been a true friend … my only friend,lately. I won’t let you blame yourself.”

Solomon shakes his head sadly. “I thank youfor that,” he says. “But it is a kindness I do not deserve. I wasthere during the final battle between Mr. Morgen and the overlord.I heard his last wish. I should have realized his son would try tohonor it.”

“Wait,” she says. “The Khan’s last wish washis dying wish?” Nazirah remembers Khanto hovering over Adamek,speaking quietly, sadistic fire in his eyes. Those words sparkedsomething inside Adamek, making him finally fight back. That wasconsidered the Khan’s last wish? Why hadn’t Adamek told her thatlast night?