Intermix Nation

The monkey takes Nazirah into his arms. “Youwear your grief, your guilt, like armor,” he says. “It only keepsthe joy out and the pain in.”

“I’m so sorry!” she sobs incoherently, tothe ghosts of her past, her present, her future. “I’m so sorry, I’mso sorry.…”

“There is nothing shameful about wantinghappiness,” he says. “Everyone searches for it, but very few peopleallow themselves to find it.”

“What do I do?” she begs. “Tell me how notto be lost anymore! Please!”

“You are at a profound turning of the tide,”he says, wiping her tears, “in more ways than one. But hard as wetry, no man can control the ebb and flow of the ocean.” He pullsher up gently.

“So you’re telling me to just float wherethe waves take me?” she asks. “That my life will never be myown?”

“I’m telling you,” the monkey whispers, “tobecome the moon.”

“What?”

“Decide how the tide pulls,” he says.“Choose your own fate. Do not let me, or anyone else, dictate yourpath. Forge it yourself.”

Nazirah nods, contemplating his words. “Thankyou,” she says quietly.

“I have a small request before you leave,”the monkey says.

“Anything.”

“The road of your life has been rough,filled with grit and despair. And I do not see the coursesmoothing. I wish to give you a protection mark, offering youcourage and strength in your most desperate hours.”

Nazirah is stu

The monkey winks. “What blonde hair?”

Confused, Nazirah fingers her locks. Shepulls a tendril forward and finds it has returned to its normalcopper color. Nazirah looks at her hands, freshly tan. “Did you dothis?” she asks, amazed.

The monkey rubs Nazirah’s arm with hissleeve, gently erasing the black paint, the final remnants of Zimaon her skin. “It does not suit you, Nazirah, to hide who you are.You are rare, even though you constantly resist that which makesyou so special. Embrace it.”

The monkey closes his eyes and startshumming, blindly tattooing her left wrist. His movements areflawless and smooth. Nazirah watches him ink four numbers, followedby a strange symbol. Just like Adamek’s tattoo, she realizes. Themonkey bows his head, returning the items to his pocket. Nazirahreads the numbers aloud.

“Zero-five-one-four.”

May 14th, her mother’sbirthday. Nazirah understands now why the numbers on Adamek’s ownwrist are so important to him.

“A protection mark,” the monkey says,“Courage and strength given by your kin. The best kind ofprotection there is.”

“But how did you know the date?”

“You knew the date,” he answers. “That iswhat matters.”

“Yesterday,” Nazirah says, “you saw that hisMedi tattoo had changed. You said it suited him.” The monkey nods.“Why did it change?”

“Nazirah Nation,” the monkey replies,handing Nazirah her coat, “do not ask a question if you alreadyknow the answer.”

“He doesn’t consider himself Medi anymore,”she says immediately, realizing she has known it all along.

“The mind rejects and the body responds,”the monkey confirms, reaching into his robes again, pulling out asmall dagger. The monkey throws it high into the air and catchesit, lightning fast. He presents it to her. “A gift.”

“It’s incredible,” Nazirah breathes, tracingthe intricate carvings. She unsheathes the dagger and stares at thegleaming metal before carefully pocketing it.

“Something to remember us by,” he says,“Though I hope you never have a need to use it.”

Nazirah gives the monkey a short, awkwardbow. He chuckles, embracing her.

“Will I ever see you again?” she askshim.

“That depends.”

“On?”

“On the way the tide goes.”

Nazirah bites her lip. “Would you everconsider training me?”

“It would be both the greatest honor andshame of my life to teach someone so pure the ways of thebrotherhood,” the monkey answers sorrowfully. “I am afraid I haveno answer for you.” Nazirah nods. “But I will give you this finaltoken of advice, my daughter. The first, most important, rule is toalways know your enemy.”

Nazirah smiles because Adamek has alreadytaught her that lesson. “I think I’ve got that one figuredout.”

“Just remember,” the monkey says, wavinggoodbye. “In life, our only enemies are ourselves.”

#

When Nazirah exits the monastery, the sun isalready setting. Darkness stains the sky, spilt ink soaking paper.Nazirah throws her hood up, crosses the bridge. Safely on the otherside, she sprints back to the manor. She sneaks through theservants’ entrance, quickly retreating to her room. Nazirah shutsthe door and leans against it, breathing a heavy sigh of relief. Ithas barely escaped her lips when she peers into the darkness,immediately freezing. “Morgen,” she greets, trying to sound casualas she pulls off her coat.

“Nation.”

Adamek lies on Nazirah’s bed, not lookingher way. He tosses a smooth black stone into the air, catching itwith one hand. Nazirah glances nervously at the open mason jarbeside him, at the pictures spread out. He’s clearly been here fora while.

Nazirah clears her throat. “How was themeeting?”

“Good,” he says. “We finished early.”

“Great.”

“I told Slome I would check on you, but youweren’t here.” Adamek looks at her then, expression unreadable. Herises from the bed, standing before Nazirah in two short paces.

“I went for a walk.”

“Where?”

“Just out,” she says. “I couldn’t staytrapped in here anymore. No one saw me.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.”

“And how do you explain looking likeyourself again?”

Nazirah touches her face, having forgotten.“It wore off, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Yeah, I guess!”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“You should leave.”

Adamek ignores Nazirah, grabbing her wrist.There’s an unstable, manic look in his eye. Nazirah doesn’t eventry to pull away. She knows exactly what he’s looking for. Adamekstares at the protection mark for only a second. Then he meets herwaiting gaze. His voice is so devastatingly calm that Nazirahalmost wishes he would yell instead.

“Why?”

She struggles to break free of his grip.“Why what?”

“Why did you go see him?”

“I was curious,” she says, wincing.

Adamek spins Nazirah so her back is flushagainst his chest. His free hand snakes around her waist, holdingher firmly. “Curious?”

“You’re hurting me!”

Adamek releases her entirely, playing withher hair. Ru

“Yes.”

Nazirah is surprised by how quickly sheanswers. But she doesn’t doubt herself, not for a moment. Adameklets go of her windpipe. He hisses, “Then you are an idiot,Nazirah.”

Her name on his lips is glorious sacrilege,a godsend.

“I’m not,” she says.

“What am I?”

“I don’t –”

“What am I?” he repeats, more harshly thistime.

“A man?”

Adamek laughs into her ear, grazing hisfingers down her spine. “True,” he says. “But try again.”

“Medi?” she gets out. She knows that’s notright … not anymore.

“Nope.”

Nazirah racks her brain. She remembers thefirst day she saw Adamek at headquarters, in Nikolaus’s office.Nazirah called him a slew of foul names then. One in particular hadstuck.

And don’t you forget it.

Nazirah hasn’t.

“Murderer.”

She whispers it like a confession. Adamekspins her around, looking her dead in the eye. “And that’s all I’llever be,” he says coldly. “Remember that.” He turns away from her,walking towards the door.