by S. F. Kosa
She squatted, covering her face with her hands. Those were not worthy thoughts. If she indulged them, Eszter would be right about her.
“What are you doing?” asked Ladonna, walking back from the barns with a few bottles of milk. Her look was cautious. Like she expected Parvaneh to explode.
Parvaneh smiled. “I felt moved by the consciousness, like it had a message for me.”
“About tonight?” Ladonna asked.
Parvaneh nodded. “This is our moment to prove ourselves. And Darius trusts me enough to place me in the center of the action. I’m honored to have been chosen.”
“Everybody’s buzzing all about this today. Zana. Eszter. You and Fabia and Beetah.” Ladonna arched one eyebrow. “We all have a part to play. No one part is more important than any other.”
“What’s your part exactly?” She couldn’t keep the acid from her tone.
“Okay, little miss high horse.” Ladonna’s expression turned stony, and she resumed her walk up the trail. “Keep telling yourself how important you are if that’s what you need. Darius said he wanted to start soon.”
Parvaneh watched her go, irritation fizzing inside her, mixing with fear. In a way, they’d been practicing for this moment for weeks. Darius was too wise to leave them unprepared. They’d grown in trust and faith one glass of milk at a time. All of them had done it, and all of them knew how it felt. Painless and peaceful. Like slipping beneath the surface of lapping warm waters, vast and welcoming. And on the other side, eternity.
Despite all that, Parvaneh was incredibly relieved she hadn’t been chosen for that particular journey.
She tromped back to the dorm, reaching it as Eszter did, having come from wherever she wandered off to these days. Parvaneh still couldn’t understand why Darius trusted her so much. She’d turned out to be a such a backstabber. Right now, her round face was flushed, her eyes shiny. “What’s wrong?” Parvaneh asked, her voice syrupy sweet. “You look troubled.”
“What if I was?” she asked quietly, wiping her face with the sleeve of her robe.
“I thought you were never troubled. Isn’t that what you want Darius to believe?”
Eszter shook her head. “I think it’s what you would like Darius to believe about you, but it’s so obviously not true that it troubles us all.”
Parvaneh was astounded by the way Eszter could twist everything. “You probably just came from his cabin—where you probably tried to convince him, yet again, that I don’t deserve to be in there with the rest of you.”
In the past, Eszter would have had the decency to look embarrassed, but not now. Her gaze was direct. And hard. “What if I did?”
“Why do you hate me so much?” Parvaneh tugged at her robe. “You chose me to be part of all of this, remember?” She jabbed her finger at Eszter. “You approached me on that curb in Portland. You could have left me alone, but instead, you drew me in.”
Now Eszter did look away. “I did,” she murmured. “And now I know that was a mistake.”
The pain was a physical one, knifing through Parvaneh’s body, piercing the thin skin of her control and sinking into the well of rage it contained. “Picking me was a mistake? What the hell did I do to make you hate me this much? We were friends!” she shouted. “And I helped you. I cared about you. But suddenly, you do your best to make me look bad in front of Darius.” Her entire body shook with the betrayal. “I still have bruises from the beating I got because of you.”
“I didn’t want you to get hurt,” said Eszter so miserably that Parvaneh wanted to believe her. But then she added, “I didn’t know that would happen.”
With a burst of bitter laughter, Parvaneh said, “You’re a liar. Either that or you’re stupid.”
“I’m neither,” Eszter said quietly.
“Then what is it? Are you jealous?”
Eszter’s head snapped up. “Jealous of what?”
Glaring at Eszter, Parvaneh slowly and deliberately put her hands on her belly.
Eszter’s expression twisted with something Parvaneh couldn’t quite read, maybe pain, maybe just simple irritation. “I don’t understand why you haven’t just left,” she blurted out. “No one wants you here! I’ve been trying to tell you that for weeks. It would be better for you if you quit. Just go! I’ll make sure no one notices until it’s too late to stop you.”
Parvaneh stepped close to Eszter, her hands curling into fists. “I’m more committed now than ever. And if you try to mess this up for me—”
“You’ll what?” Eszter sighed. “Just know that I tried, and I love you.”
From the clearing, a whistle rose, high and sharp. “It’s time,” Parvaneh said.
Eszter began to trudge toward the meeting hall. Parvaneh fell into step beside her. They were all supposed to be helping one another remain committed, but Eszter had done nothing but prod Parvaneh to quit for a long time now. And at this moment, when everything was on the line, it was the last thing she should have been doing. They should be standing shoulder to shoulder, trying to figure out how best to get back to where they’d been, when everything was good.
In the clearing, everyone was assembling. The guides, including Kazem and Zana, looked nervous, Zana pulling at a loose thread at the shoulder of her robe, Kazem pacing like a caged tiger. The sentinels, including Basir and Beetah, looked more relaxed. Fabia came out of the children’s dorm dragging Xerxes by the hand. “I don’t want to go to the boring meeting,” he shouted as she yanked him across the gravel.
“You’re going to meet the consciousness,” Fabia said. “Don’t you want it to like you?”
Eszter rushed over to them, wearing a smile. “Xerxes, guess what. Parvaneh and I are taking care of you tonight!”
Xerxes pushed a heavy lock of blond hair out of his eyes. “You’ll play with me?”
“I’m sure there will be time for that,” said Eszter, “but we need to do our work first.”
Xerxes narrowed his eyes. “What kind of work?”
Fabia groaned. “Your work is to stop asking questions for five minutes! Can you do that?”
He stuck his tongue out at her. Parvaneh would have laughed, but the sight of his childish antics wrenched her into the hard now of things. Doubt was like wind, prying up hastily nailed boards, seeping in through all the cracks, rattling her bones. What she really needed now was courage—and the knowledge of where to direct it. Thoughts awhirl, she walked forward and joined Eszter, barely restraining the urge to shove her to the side. She offered Xerxes a bright smile. “Let’s go into the meeting hall to find out what activity we’re doing next!”
Xerxes offered up a tentative, intrigued look and allowed Parvaneh to take his hand. Together, they walked toward the meeting hall, Fabia keeping pace. “Shouldn’t you go back to the children’s dorms?” Parvaneh asked. “Isn’t that your job tonight? Babysitting?”
Fabia lifted her chin. “My job is between me, Darius, and the consciousness. It’s no more or less important than anyone else’s.”
“You sound like Ladonna,” said Eszter, speaking Parvaneh’s thoughts aloud. “And you’re right. But is it a secret?”
“All is revealed in the right time,” Fabia said breezily, pulling the door open by its big metal handle. “Your journey is only beginning,” she said as the rest of them filed past.
Parvaneh walked away from the cold and into a stifling, candlelit world. Darius must have had the incense burning for hours, and hundreds of candles had been arranged around the room, on the chairs, on saucers right on the carpeted areas, on the steps of the dais. They glowed and wavered in the breeze as the door opened, harboring a hypnotic kind of beauty. She spotted Darius in front of those dais steps, his arms folded, hands cupping his elbows. Once the door closed, he turned to them, his blue eyes bright.
He lifted his arms. “Come forward! This is the moment we begin our ascent to the path we’v
e been seeking with such devotion over the last year.”
Still clutching Xerxes’s sweaty hand, Parvaneh marched up the aisle. Ten milk glasses had been assembled on the altar. Some sort of leather-bound object had been lined up behind each, but she couldn’t make out what it was. Heart hammering, she pulled Xerxes to the side as they reached the front, to make room for everyone else.
“Sentinels, flank your guides. They will be your meditation channel tonight, and you will be their anchor.”
Parvaneh shifted so that Eszter could squeeze in on Xerxes’s other side. The rest of the groups spread out around the room. Darius waited for them to find their places. He seemed agitated and shaky, not excited and joyful like she’d expected.
“I brought you all here to share this journey with me,” he said. “Now we continue it together. I will be the last to leave; I hope by that time you’ll all be waiting for me in that beautiful, shining place.”
Alarm spiked in her chest. It didn’t sound like he was taking any of them to a new, special retreat.
“Guides, line up. Each of you gets a vehicle for your journey.” He gestured at the milk glasses, then strode up the steps of the dais and handed out the glasses one by one, saying, “Take it back to your sentinels and drink.”
Parvaneh knelt next to Xerxes. “Do you want…” She paused, her voice trailing off. She was about to ask an innocent child to drink something that would silence his mind and might stop his heart. What would Octavia say if she were here? What if this were Parvaneh’s child? She looked up at Eszter. “I can’t,” she whispered.
Darius looked over as if she’d shouted it. As all the other guides shuffled back to their sentinels, glasses in hand, Darius grabbed a cup from the altar and brought it over to them. “Xerxes,” he said. “Drink.”
From behind them came a sob. “Don’t make me do this,” Zana wailed.
Darius turned toward the back. “Kyra and Laleh, help Zana fulfill her purpose.”
Parvaneh watched, wide eyed, as Laleh grabbed Zana from behind, holding her fast, while Kyra took the milk and pressed the cup to Zana’s lips. “Kazem,” Zana sobbed. “Help me.”
From a few feet away, Kazem stood, empty glass in hand, tears on his face. “Zana, let it go,” he said, sounding weary. “It’s all right. We’ll all be together again soon.”
Zana sputtered and coughed as Kyra poured the milk down her throat.
“Everyone, follow Kazem’s example,” said Darius. “He understands what is expected of him and how the rest of us suffer if he is a coward.”
Kazem’s wrecked expression revealed nothing but marrow-deep sorrow. Parvaneh’s throat went tight. She looked at the cup in Darius’s hand and then down at Xerxes, who seemed rapt and frozen as he watched what was happening to Zana. He looked up at Darius. “I don’t want milk.”
“You don’t have a choice, Xerxes. You were chosen for this.”
“I. Don’t. Want. Milk!” He tore his hand from Parvaneh’s, ducked Darius’s grasp, and dodged Eszter’s clumsy, too-slow lunge. He raced down the aisle toward the back doors with Parvaneh on his tail. At the sight, Goli screamed and tried to follow, but her sentinels grabbed her. Both murmured reassurance as they grappled with her. Parvaneh reached the back doors only a second after Xerxes, but not quickly enough to keep him from pushing them open.
Fabia stood just outside. Holding a crowbar.
“I should have known you’d try to get out of it,” she sneered at Parvaneh. Then she rushed forward and shoved Xerxes back. He collided with Parvaneh, knocking her off balance and into Eszter, who’d been a few steps behind. Parvaneh heard the sound of metal scraping against metal, and when Xerxes threw himself at the doors again, they barely budged.
Fabia had barred the door. They were trapped. She was trapped.
“Parvaneh and Eszter, bring him forward,” Darius called. “Doubt and fear are the enemy. Faith and love are our only allies now.”
Tears stinging her eyes, panic slithering up her spine, Parvaneh grabbed Xerxes around the middle and carried him kicking and screaming up the aisle. His clogs batted a few candles to the floor, but Parvaneh didn’t have the strength or wherewithal to right them.
When they reached the front, Darius tried to hand Parvaneh the glass, but it was almost as if she’d gone numb. She couldn’t make herself reach for it.
He tilted his head. “Will you take his place?” His voice was level. Calm. Wise. “I’m depending on you, Parvaneh. I need you now. I’ve always needed you. You know I’m only trying to protect us.” He reached out and stroked her cheek.
While Parvaneh hesitated, Eszter squatted next to the struggling boy. Tears stained his reddened cheeks. “This is going to make you feel better,” she explained to him. She took the cup from Darius, wrapped her arms around Xerxes, and tried to bring it to his lips, but her shaking hands caused her to spill most of it down the front of his robe.
Darius made an annoyed sound and grabbed Xerxes by the hair. “Get it into him,” he said tersely.
Parvaneh watched, dazed, as Eszter poured what little remained in the cup down Xerxes’s throat.
Darius smiled and patted the boy’s head while Eszter held him. “It’s enough,” he said to her. “It’ll keep him calm.”
Parvaneh looked around the room. Most of the guides were sitting now. The air smelled faintly of smoke. The whole meeting hall had turned hazy, dusky tendrils swirling overhead.
Darius walked back to the dais. “Tonight is the real test, the thing we’ve been training for all along.” He reached over and grabbed one of the leather-bound objects. He held it up.
It was a hunting knife with a leather-bound hilt. There were nine more still on the altar.
Zana was still weakly struggling as Darius took the knife down the aisle and handed it to Kyra. “There is nothing more powerful than blood,” Darius said as he walked back. He passed out the knives to the sentinels. “This is the moment we channel that power. You all know what to do.”
From the back of the room came a gurgling scream. And then another. Blood blossomed from Zana’s stomach and chest as Kyra drove the knife into her. As Parvaneh turned back to the front, she saw Eszter hunched over Xerxes, whispering in his ear. But the boy had gone glassy eyed and didn’t seem fully aware. Which was for the better, because Darius had drawn near, offering Parvaneh a knife of her own.
“This is when your wings open and you fly,” he said to her. “Prove your loyalty. Prove your commitment.” He moved close to her. Put a hand on the mound of her belly. The tiny life inside her kicked. “You are my butterfly. I need you now.” He stroked her abdomen. “We both do.”
Another scream. And another. There was a crash as several chairs were overturned, as someone, probably a guide, struggled and fought to stay alive, to keep breathing.
This was the moment. She’d come so far. It was her or the boy. The boy or her daughter.
And there was no way out.
Her ears ringing, her nose filling with the scent of smoke, she reached for the knife.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Bend, Oregon
December 14, present day
Standing outside the Bend police station as it starts to rain, I request an Uber. I scowl at the drops hitting the asphalt, pinging off windshields. I feel like a boxer, punch-drunk from all the hits, barely able to stay upright. Before I get in my ride, Ben yells from the window of his squad car, tells me not to leave Bend or he’ll get a warrant for my arrest. And then he tells me Hailey and Martin were being transported, and they don’t have any relatives in the area, so I’d better get a move on.
I’m back at St. Charles in less than ten minutes. By the time I arrive, Noah’s sent me another text:
Stop ignoring me.
I put my phone away, glad I brought his name to Ben’s attention.
It’s a different attendant at the front des
k of the ED this time, but she looks as hollow eyed as the one last night, maybe because at that point, the woman already knew her colleague Essie was dead. Maybe she even recognized my voice and wondered if I had anything to do with it, since I’d been practically stalking Essie for the previous two days.
I’ve walked into so many traps of my own making that I’ve lost count.
The attendant tells me that Hailey and Martin Rodriguez were admitted an hour ago, and both are being treated for smoke inhalation. She said Hailey is in fair condition but Martin’s more serious. When I ask if I can see them, she calls the attending and confers with her, casting cautious glances in my direction. Finally, she tells me that she’ll take me to Hailey’s room.
When I walk in and peek around the curtain, Hailey’s seemingly asleep, her face streaked with soot, an oxygen mask strapped to her face. My eyes fill with tears, and I step back out into the hallway. This is my fault. Whoever’s been setting these fires, they probably were trying to get to me. I have no idea who could be after me, so I don’t even know how to protect myself, let alone the only two people in the world who care whether I live or die.
Essie was my number one suspect. Ladonna was capable of killing. Back then, she had a hard streak and a clear head in moments that made other people panic. It’s probably why Darius assigned her to stay outside; he knew she would make sure Fabia did what she’d been told and see that Tadeas didn’t lose his head. Now she’s at the morgue, and she was right to be scared. I wonder if she recognized her killer when he came for her.