by S. F. Kosa
“I really should go,” I add. Essie might be at the hospital by now, assuming she’s working today.
“You don’t want to get ice cream with us?”
“I have to get back to work,” I tell him. “Maybe even squeeze in a few minutes to read your story. I’ll get back to you soon, okay?”
My phone pings. It’s Miles, and the message turns me as cold as the open graves from my nightmare.
I found Shari—actually, she found me. She’s in Bend, and she’s willing to talk! I’ll have a new interview for you to fact-check tomorrow night!
Chapter Twenty-Three
The Retreat
November 17, 2000
Parvaneh pulled herself to her feet when she heard the pop of tires on the gravel outside. The children’s dorm was chilly despite the space heater in the corner, but the kids didn’t seem to notice, most of them toddling around in the playroom, full of pillows made from the same material as their robes and wooden toys Tadeas had made over the last year. A few other Oracles sat on the floor, cuddling or nursing the babies, playing with the children. Parvaneh had taken to coming in here between her duties to play. She was going to be a mother after all. She hoped she wouldn’t be awful at it.
Xerxes scowled up at her, surrounded by an assortment of blocks. “I’m not done playing with you!”
“I heard something.” She went to the window, and her skin rippled with goose bumps. A police cruiser had parked in the clearing, and a cop was getting out.
Xerxes stood on his tiptoes and held on to the sill to pull himself high enough to peek. “That car is painted all over,” he said. “Who are they?” He sounded awed. And very curious, as usual. He’d coped with Octavia’s disappearance from his life through fits of screaming and crying and being more bossy than usual. He’d seemed to blame Darius and refused to speak in his presence, the only time he kept silent for more than a few seconds apart from when he slept.
“It’s a police car. Those are police. They make sure people obey the laws.”
“What are laws?”
“They’re like rules. And there are a lot of them.”
“Oh. Like how we have to close our eyes when we talk to the deep consciousness.”
“Sort of.” Parvaneh watched Basir come out of the dining hall, saw the cop eyeing his long robe and the smears of blood on the apron he always wore. He was obviously asking what the cop wanted, but whatever it was caused Basir to head straight to the meeting hall. “Laws are like big rules. Like, you’re not supposed to kill…anyone.” Her voice faded as she thought about Shirin. Ziba. Octavia. Eszter’s tiny baby. “You’re not supposed to take things that don’t belong to you. Stuff like that. If you break those laws, they could put you in jail.”
“What’s that?”
“They lock you in a room and don’t let you out.”
He frowned. “Fabia does that to me when I make her mad.”
“What did you say to make her mad?”
“I told her Mommy was going to come take me away and Fabia couldn’t come with us.”
Parvaneh stroked the top of his head. “You miss your mom.”
He directed his attention out the window. “Are they going to take Darius to jail?”
Parvaneh turned to see Darius stride out of the meeting hall with Eszter at his side—where she’d been glued for weeks. At first, Parvaneh had tried to be glad; Darius had brought her back from the edge, calmed her down. He’d put a smile back on her face after she’d looked like she wanted to dive into the grave with her little girl. Out of everybody on this compound, apart from Darius himself, Eszter was the person Parvaneh cared about the most. The one person she’d be willing to step aside for when it came to Darius. But at this point, did Eszter really need all that? He hadn’t wanted to have any special meditation sessions with Parvaneh in weeks. It made her wonder if he’d just been trying to get her pregnant, and now that she was, he was done with her. It took every bit of strength and commitment she had every day to push that resentment away, but it was a persistent creature, and it kept coming back.
And coming back.
Darius and Eszter stopped several feet from the cop. She looked up at Darius adoringly while he spoke to the officer. “I don’t think Darius is going anywhere,” Parvaneh said.
“But he pushed Mommy. He made her cry.”
Parvaneh’s throat felt way too tight. “He didn’t want to hurt her.” She hoped.
“I think the police should take him to jail.”
“You shouldn’t hope that. And you shouldn’t say that.”
“I can say anything I want. I remember the bad word. Do you want me to say it?”
“No.” The cop was gesturing at the dorms, and Darius shook his head. After a few more seconds, the cop got back into the cruiser and pulled away. The tension Parvaneh had been holding inside drained away as soon as the car was out of sight. “See? It’s fine. I have to go.”
“No,” Xerxes shouted. He launched himself at Parvaneh, his head colliding with her belly and his hands grabbing at her sides. Instinctively, she shoved him away, flashes of memory flickering, the way he’d kicked at Eszter’s belly. Xerxes staggered, hit his head on the windowsill, and began to cry.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” Parvaneh said, dropping to her knees and reaching for him, but he shrank from her touch.
“You’re mean too,” he screamed, slapping at her face. Red-faced, he collapsed on the floor, clutching at his head and wailing.
Ladonna came around the corner and saw them there. “What on earth is going on in here?”
“I need to get to the kitchen,” Parvaneh said. Half of her wanted to stay, to bring Xerxes around, and half of her wanted to scream in his face. She knew he’d been through things he couldn’t understand. But she’d also seen him lash out at Eszter, and she knew he didn’t always care who he hurt. Just now, he’d crashed into her belly like he wanted to hurt her. So she left him with Ladonna and headed out to help Basir make dinner. They’d gone through all their pigs in the last few months, so it had been mostly potatoes and other root vegetables lately. Bread and soup. Night and day. After so many nights and days filled with dead meat, it had almost been a relief.
Her hands hurt, and she was nursing a cut from the potato peeler by the time she sat at her assigned table for the meal. Tadeas, Zana, and Kazem were already starting on their soup, and they greeted her with quick nods between bites. Most meals were eaten in silence these days, and it set her teeth on edge. She missed the easy conversation of months past, the gentle teasing, the bursts of carefree laughter as they passed the food. Even the children had grown more subdued as the days grew crisp and dreary; maybe they could sense the weight of fear and uncertainty the adults carried on their shoulders. And Parvaneh’s body wasn’t helping her mood much—lately her hunger had become vicious, turning her desperate and cranky as nausea nibbled at her edges. Because she was pregnant, she was given an extra portion of bread for every meal, but it never seemed like enough.
Tonight, though, it wasn’t just silent. The tension in the room was a scent, metallic and sharp. People flinched at the scrape of spoons against bowls, the slam of the door after each Oracle entered for their dinner. By their anxious glances and stiff postures, she could tell nearly everyone had noticed or heard about the cop by now. She wondered how many of them knew what he’d wanted and if they would tell her if she asked.
She was halfway through her potato soup when Darius entered the dining room from the kitchen. The sight of him was a held breath, more painful as the seconds passed. He stood there and let his eyes rest on each table, on each Oracle in turn, all of them staring back, questions hanging in the air. When his unreadable gaze touched hers, icy prickles bloomed in her chest.
After a moment, he came over to their table. Eszter was at his side and holding a tray containing four cups of milk. She looked placid and bla
nk and secure, but slight tremors from her hands sent little ripples through the liquid in the plastic cups. His movements clipped, Darius placed the cups in front of the four of them, each one hitting the table with a sharp click. Then he raised his arms to draw everyone’s attention, which was unnecessary. Every pair of eyes in the room was riveted to him already. “The consciousness has given me a message,” he said, more loudly than necessary given the hush in the air. “Our time of testing has begun, and all of us will need to prove our commitment to this journey.” He gestured at the milk.
Nobody moved. Parvaneh met the gaze of each of her tablemates. Kazem’s gaze was veiled, his face unreadable as usual. Tadeas and Zana looked nervous.
“Drink!” Darius barked, making Parvaneh twitch in her seat. He softened his tone, but it still held the sting of impatience. “Go ahead.” Then he shook his head, looking sad. “I’m starting to see why the consciousness is so far out of our reach.”
Tadeas cursed softly and drank the milk in three big gulps before slapping his cup back on the table. Zana’s hand was shaking as she reached for hers. Kazem downed his like a shot of whiskey. And Parvaneh knew she had no choice. She didn’t know what was going on, and she couldn’t allow herself to think about it—there was a faint sheen of sweat on Darius’s brow. His jaw ticked with tension. He needed commitment in this moment, not defiance or questions. The milk was heavy and smooth on her tongue, faintly sweet, and she swallowed quickly.
Darius closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, steeped in relief. He looked pleased. Parvaneh’s heart soared as his lips parted to speak.
“You have all just ingested a fatal poison, and you will be dead in about thirty minutes.”
Surprised gasps hissed through the room. Parvaneh blinked, uncertain she’d heard him right. Across from her, the color drained from Kazem’s face. But Eszter still stood at Darius’s side as if he’d just announced they were going to have a picnic. “Everyone, please finish your meal quickly and go to the meeting hall,” Darius instructed, his tone brisk. “These four will be our channelers for tonight.” He put his arm around Eszter and steered her away from the table while Kazem, Tadeas, Zana, and Parvaneh sat in a gutted silence.
The other Oracles didn’t meet their eyes as they filed out of the dining hall, but hands trembled and whispered questions carried. This was real, Parvaneh realized. This was happening. When they were mostly alone, Kazem chuckled as he met Zana’s gaze. “I never thought this was how it would go.”
Zana burst into tears. Tadeas put his arm around her and whispered, “Think about where you’re going. No more pain. No more struggle.”
Parvaneh stared at him, baffled. Everything he was saying proved his commitment, but she felt none of it. No peace, no eagerness.
All she felt was rage. Nestled in her belly, the baby moved. She put her hands on her barely rounded abdomen as chills rolled through her. It was a girl—she knew it somehow, knew it to her bones. A girl like Eszter’s, perfect like Eszter’s had been. And now Darius had killed her too.
With a clenched jaw, she rose. “What’s the point?” she asked. “Is there any point?”
“He’s helping us find enlightenment and become one with the consciousness,” said Tadeas, rising and helping Zana, who was still sniffling, get to her feet.
“I’m pregnant,” said Parvaneh. “He kills me, he kills my baby.”
“It’s not a baby yet,” said Zana, swiping tears off her face with the sleeve of her robe. “The consciousness hasn’t delivered its soul. Maybe you’ll meet it tonight.”
Parvaneh’s lip curled. She’d said things like this before. It was supposed to make sense. Except suddenly it didn’t. Something vital had been ripped from her. She reached into her pocket and wrapped her fingers around her meditation stone, needing something to steady her. Her heart was beating like the blades of a ceiling fan, racing but taking her nowhere. Was that the poison working in her body?
Would the baby feel it? Would it hurt her as it did its damage? She squeezed the rock even harder, until it felt like her bones would poke from her skin. The baby kicked again, a flutter deep inside.
Her ears ringing, her lips growing numb, she followed Kazem, Tadeas, and Zana out of the dining hall. She peered up at the sky; this was the last time she’d ever see it. She looked down at the ground to keep from crying. As they entered the meeting hall, no one spoke. Darius awaited them at the front, but instead of directing them to the altar, he had arranged four chairs in a square, facing inward. “Sit.”
Parvaneh chose a seat that allowed her to keep her back to everyone. She would never make it to the retreat he was building for his most committed. Of the forty Oracles, he’d chosen her to die. Had he chosen to kill their child—and her—as a punishment for her doubt, her questioning?
Or maybe she’d done this to herself—and her baby.
Parvaneh raised her head. Instead of calling the others to put their hands on them, to begin to meditate and channel, Darius simply watched them. Waiting. Fury burned in her chest. It was a new feeling, at least when it came to him. It felt wrong, like a crime.
Kazem cleared his throat and winced. “I think I feel it,” he whispered hoarsely, rubbing at his neck.
“I do too.” Tadeas’s face had turned ruddy, and his eyes were glassy.
Zana began to sob again.
“Zana, why are you crying?” Darius asked. “You should be overjoyed. The consciousness chose you. It’s reaching for you now.”
Zana covered her face and pitched forward, almost sliding from her folding chair. Kazem caught her, held her in place, his arms around her and his voice a low murmur, promising peace and wonder and joy forever if they could only get through this moment.
Parvaneh could tell from his tone that he was trying to convince himself too.
Darius turned his attention to Parvaneh. “You’re not scared, are you?”
“No.” She was a ball of anger, wrapped in a gauzy mist of disbelief. If she thought about what was happening to her baby, she wouldn’t be able to stay calm. “I’m not scared at all.”
Darius grinned. “And do you feel the poison working like the others do?”
Her heart continued to pound, but as she searched her senses for some other indication of her rapidly approaching death by poison…she felt nothing. She shook her head.
He didn’t stop smiling. “Everyone, come lay hands on them. These precious Oracles, chosen for this sacrifice. Hurry. We only have fifteen minutes to reach for the consciousness before it claims them.”
Everyone gathered around. Hands rested on Parvaneh’s shoulders and arms. When she felt a hand on her belly, she flinched. But it was Eszter, kneeling at her side. “Don’t be afraid,” she said quietly.
Parvaneh felt the sudden urge to pull Eszter’s hair. She didn’t have anything to be afraid of; she’d become Darius’s favorite. She probably knew all the secrets Parvaneh had thought lay only between her and the man who had changed her world. And now he was sending her away forever. She gritted her teeth as hands squeezed and rubbed and patted, as voices murmured all around, as she waited for the dying to begin.
Except it didn’t. After several long minutes, Darius said, “Everyone, step away from them.”
Parvaneh opened her eyes to see Kazem, Zana, and Tadeas still breathing, still living. And Darius grinning. “You have proven your loyalty and commitment,” he said to them. “You passed one of the tests the consciousness set before you.” He began to clap, and after a few stunned seconds, the other Oracles joined him.
Relief and confusion crashed over Parvaneh, one then another, over and over. Tadeas began to laugh, big and braying, his shoulders shaking and feet stomping. After a few minutes, Kazem joined him, tears sparkling in his eyes, his hand reaching for Zana’s. Zana still looked shaken, but then Darius grabbed her and spun her around, yanking her away from Kazem’s side before pulling her i
nto a bear hug and kissing her on the forehead, stamping her with his pride. Everyone was laughing and cheering now, all able to breathe again, the air sweeter because of what they’d all experienced together. Parvaneh floated through the rest of the night in the haze of it, as Darius offered himself to his Oracles, as they laid hands on him and meditated well into the night. It almost felt like it used to. At the end of it, Darius told them they had all done well, and he disappeared into his office alone.
Parvaneh walked back to the women’s dorm with the others, and she smiled when Ladonna offered her and Zana thick slices of bread and butter Basir had sent over from the kitchen. She ate it slowly, savoring every bite. Then she went outside to look at stars she never thought she’d see again. They winked, flinty and far, in a darkness as deep as the consciousness.
“Are you coming to bed?” It was Eszter. She had a blanket folded over her arm.
“Are you joining Darius tonight?” She knew she sounded peevish—and that she shouldn’t. But she had no energy left to push everything down.
Eszter took the blanket off her arm and wrapped it over Parvaneh’s shoulders. “You handled that really well. Darius was so proud of you.”
Parvaneh stayed quiet. In months past, she might have told Eszter exactly what she was thinking and feeling, confided all her fears. But of all the Oracles, Eszter, who’d been sewn to Darius’s side for weeks, was not the person to confess her doubts to. Not anymore. “Why were the police here?”
Eszter bit her lip. Glanced toward the meeting hall. “A welfare check. I guess Ziba’s children called them. They wanted to know if she was okay. Still alive.”
Parvaneh turned to Eszter, the blanket pulled tight around her body. “What did he tell them?”
“That she left the compound of her own accord.”
“I guess that’s sort of true.” But it didn’t ease her mind. “Did the cop believe him?”
“He said he might get a search warrant if Ziba doesn’t turn up.”
“Was Darius upset?”