Intermix Nation (9 page)

But Anzares doesn’t see this.

Grum doesn’t see this.

The rest of the class doesn’t see this.

All they see is a girl who won’t fight. Who
won’t even try. And this enrages them.

Anzares throws Nazirah a final punch to the
cheek. Nazirah sees the blessed stars for a second before
collapsing to the floor on her knees.

Like she’s in prayer.

Because isn’t she?

And isn’t this her salvation?

“Enough,” Grum says, shaking his head. He
holds his scarred hands up, indicating that Anzares can stop and
that class is over. “Enough,” he repeats, more to himself.

Anzares spits on the floor and cracks her
neck before walking out the door. The rest of the class quietly
follows. Taj and Lumi look hesitantly at each other, knowing that
Nazirah doesn’t like to be helped. Cato gives them a reassuring
nod. They both shrug their shoulders and walk outside.

“Come on,” Cato says, helping Nazirah to her
feet and supporting her weight. “I’ll take you to Bilungi.”

They make the short journey to the
compound’s hospital, which they could both trek in their sleep by
now. The walk is longer than usual since Nazirah is hunched over,
needing to lean on Cato for support. The first day this happened,
two weeks back, Cato picked Nazirah up to carry her. Nazirah
screamed at him and threw a fit. She doesn’t want his help any more
than necessary. This is her burden and hers alone.

Cato doesn’t try to pick her up anymore.

Several minutes later, they hobble into the
makeshift emergency room. It’s a small room, narrow, with several
hospital beds lined side-by-side. Thankfully, only one is currently
occupied, partitioned by a sheer white curtain in the far
corner.

The head healer on duty, Bilungi, is
speaking to someone softly behind the partition. Bilungi is a pure
Deathlander from Rubiyat. She has ebony skin and wears a
perpetually harsh expression. She also has extremely unorthodox
methods of healing.

Cato gently leads Nazirah to the nearest
open bed, forcing her to sit down. “Healer Bilungi!” he yells
loudly, one hand cupped to the side of his face. “Your afternoon
walk-in is here!” Cato gives Nazirah a searching look. He must be
itching to know why she’s suddenly unable to fight, after a
lifetime of scrapping with nasty Eridians. But Cato doesn’t
ask.

And Nazirah doesn’t offer.

She doesn’t know how to explain this
self-inflicted karma – this all-consuming guilt she feels all the
time and the release that comes from the pain of getting beaten up.
She can tell it’s wearing on him.

“Give me a moment, Miss Nation,” Bilungi
says, her voice muffled behind the curtain.

Nazirah lies back on the hospital bed,
gingerly touching her swollen cheek and bloody forehead. Her
abdomen burns, and the metallic taste of blood in her mouth makes
her queasy. From Cato’s worried looks, Nazirah knows she’s in bad
shape.

“You really should have come to see me about
this earlier,” Bilungi says, characteristically ominous, behind the
partition. Nazirah watches Bilungi’s silhouette through the sheer
curtain as she tightly bandages someone’s shoulder with a roll of
thick gauze. She finishes wrapping quickly, hands the person their
shirt, and says they are free to go. Nazirah wishes she were so
lucky.

Bilungi appears from behind the partition,
looking at Nazirah with her usual mixture of concern and derision.
“That’s the fourth time this week,” she says, as if she doesn’t
believe it. She walks over to Nazirah, inspecting her injuries
methodically.

“Well, we didn’t have class on Tuesday,”
Nazirah says, trying to make light of the situation.

Both Cato and Bilungi glare at her. Bilungi
prods Nazirah’s abdomen, causing her to hiss in pain. “You have
internal bleeding,” she says.

Nazirah and Cato share a concerned look.
Bilungi rifles through a cabinet, pulling out a muddy-looking vial
of liquid. She hands it to Nazirah, who inspects its contents. It’s
slightly chunky, like mud and grass in bloody water. She has gotten
used to Bilungi’s odd range of concoctions and brews, but this is a
first. “What is it?”

“Drink it and I’ll tell you.”

Bilungi is a coy old bitch.

“What if I’m allergic?”

“Then you die.”

Closing her eyes, Nazirah tips the vial
back, gagging as the muddy liquid slides down her throat.
Swallowing and grimacing, she thrusts the vial back into Bilungi’s
hands. Almost immediately, she feels relief spreading across her
abdomen, like tiny warm hands stitching her insides back
together.

“That’s incredible,” Nazirah says, “and
incredibly disgusting. What was it?”

“Just silt, some holy water from the River
Syx, and chicken blood.”

Nazirah holds back another gag. “Oh, is that
all?” she snips.

“And, of course, some embezzled
MEDIcine.”

“MEDIcine?”

“Medicine from Mediah. It’s extremely
expensive.”

“And you don’t think that maybe, just maybe,
I only needed to take that last ingredient?”

“No,” she says. Bilungi disposes of the
empty vial and Nazirah bites her tongue. She wonders if the
MEDIcine has come from one of Adamek’s connections. Bilungi picks
up the jar of healing salve, needle, and thread that Nazirah is
much more familiar with. Bilungi looks up at Cato, as if just
realizing he is still there. “That will be all, Mr. Caal,” she says
firmly, nodding towards the door. Cato is about to protest, but
Bilungi cuts him off. “Miss Nation is greatly in need of rest and I
need to address her wounds. The faster she is allowed to heal, the
faster you can see her again.”

Cato looks like he’s thinking about arguing,
but from the look on Bilungi’s face, knows it will be pointless. He
leans over and gives Nazirah a gentle kiss on her uninjured cheek.
She smiles up at him lazily, head a bit foggy from MEDIcine and
chicken blood. “I’ll see you later, Irri,” he says, before
leaving.

Bilungi goes to work immediately, stitching
up the cut above Nazirah’s eye expertly. She is beginning to apply
the healing salve on Nazirah’s cheek when someone storms into the
room. It is Nikolaus, and he is pissed.

“Nazirah, what is wrong with you?” Nikolaus
yells, towering over the hospital bed.

Bilungi’s lips narrow into a thin line as
she continues applying the salve to Nazirah’s cheek. She clearly
doesn’t want Nikolaus agitating her patient, but she doesn’t say
anything to stop him. Bilungi is probably wondering the same thing
herself, since Nazirah has visited her almost every day for
weeks.

“I guess you’re back, then,” Nazirah
replies.

Nikolaus has been away with Aldrik, Lord
Grigori, and Adamek for over a week, on some impromptu
reconnaissance mission in Osen. Nazirah didn’t find out he was
leaving until after he was already gone.

Nikolaus rubs his temples, squeezing his
eyes shut. He clearly doesn’t want to deal with this right now.
“Cut it out,” he says. “This is my job. Sometimes I have to leave
at a moment’s notice, especially now, when everything is starting
to fall into place. God, you look like crap.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Nikolaus is pale and is limping slightly.
Nazirah doesn’t know exactly what happens during these recon
missions, but for Nikolaus to get hurt, they must be seriously
dangerous.

Seeing the clear panic on her face, Nikolaus
walks closer to her, making sure not to limp. He sits down beside
her on the bed, taking her hands gently.

“I’ll just put this away.” Bilungi quickly
finishes applying the salve and leaves them to speak privately.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says calmly. “I have a good
team.” He smiles, but the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Nazirah can tell something is bothering him. No doubt it’s her.

“When did you get back?”

“Last night,” he continues. “And imagine my
delight when Mather Grum cornered me in the hallway, ranting about
how, for the last two weeks, you’ve refused to participate in any
of his training sessions.” Nikolaus shoots her a curious look and
Nazirah stares out the window. “He says that you’re making a fool
of him and a mockery of his class. He says that you just stand
there, allowing yourself to get beaten up, without trying to
protect yourself.”

“He says a lot.”

“Nazirah,” Nikolaus warns, “I’m worried about
you. I’m really worried.”

She looks into his eyes, finds deep sadness
there.

“I’m pleased that you’ve started attending
classes more and that you’re being somewhat proactive,” he
continues, “but you need to be able to fight. It’s unlike you to
shy away from something like this. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I just can’t do it, Niko.”

“Is it Grum?” he asks. “Is it your
classmates? Are they picking on you or something? Do you want me to
–”

“No it’s nothing like that,” she interrupts,
shaking her head.

Nikolaus doesn’t seem convinced. “Look, I
get that you’re small,” he says, trying to understand. “And that’s
fine. You can’t help that; you’re built like Riva.”

“I’m not weak, Niko,” Nazirah says, through
gritted teeth. “I just can’t do it.”

“Why not, Nazirah?” he asks, pleading with
her now. “Let me in! Tell me what you’re feeling!”

“That’s just it,” she mumbles. “I don’t feel
anything, anymore.”

The partition curtain slides open, revealing
Adamek buttoning up the top of his shirt. Nazirah looks at him,
bewildered. Again, he has been here the entire time? He has heard
everything? He must have stayed deliberately … it can’t take that
long to button a shirt. Nazirah is annoyed, but she’s secretly
grateful to no longer be the sole focus of Nikolaus’s attention.
She hasn’t seen Adamek in weeks, not since the night he and Cato
almost got into a fistfight. His left shoulder is bandaged heavily
under his shirt, but his face is completely healed.

“Morgen,” Nikolaus greets him swiftly.
“Taking care of that shoulder?”

Adamek nods, raising an eyebrow at Nazirah.
She must really look like crap. A second later, he’s gone, out the
door, greeting Bilungi as he leaves.

“What a jerk,” Nazirah huffs. How Niko could
act so civil with him, go on missions with him, is completely
beyond her.

“You’re truly unbelievable.”

Is Niko actually defending him? Not only is
Nazirah supposed to magically accept Adamek’s amnesty and tolerate
his presence, now she has to also rejoice whenever he walks into
the room? Her brother is a real piece of work.

“Thank you,” she snaps.

“Do you know what happened to his shoulder?”
Niko asks quietly, taking a steadying breath. “We’ve spent the last
week on the Oseni border, spying on Medi training camps. Near the
end of the mission, we got caught, in a real bad way.”

“I don’t want to hear this!” she cries,
covering her ears.

“You have to hear this!” he says, pulling
her hands away. “I almost died, Nazirah! Morgen saved me. He got
shot in the shoulder and stitched himself up on the battlefield,
for God’s sake! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“That’s gross.”

“That’s not the point.”

“And what is the point?”

“In the past few weeks, Adamek has proven
countless times that he deserves to be here. He has risked his life
for us, has helped our medical team, has given us detailed
information and contacts.…” Niko trails off, looking out the window
before refocusing on Nazirah. “The Medis, vicious though they are,
are much more advanced than we. They have technology we could never
even dream of, would not think could possibly exist. Without his
help, we would have no chance of winning this.”

Nazirah crosses her arms. “Doesn’t mean I
have to like him,” she argues. “And since when do you call him
that?”

“What?”

“That.”

“… Adamek?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s his name, isn’t it?” asks Niko gently.
“And no, you don’t have to like him. Contrary to what you may
think, I’m not asking you to. But at least try to be civil, okay?
Try to understand someone besides yourself, for once.”

“We have nothing in common.”

“Do you know that the Chancellor has
renounced him? Has called him a brainwashed blood traitor? There’s
a huge bounty on his head. His father wants him dead.”

“That makes two of us.”

“People can change, Nazirah.”

And don’t you forget it.

“Not him,” she whispers.

They stare sadly at each other, brother and
sister at perpetual odds. Bilungi clears her throat from the far
side of the room, indicating to Nikolaus that it’s time for him to
go. He gets up to leave, but stops, speaking to Nazirah but facing
the door. “Nazirah, I don’t know exactly why you’re against
everything that I do,” he says. “I blame myself for a lot of the
mess we’re in, but you’re the only family I have left. Our time,
after hundreds of years of oppression, is finally coming. I don’t
want to see you get hurt. I’m not sure why you’re refusing to
fight, but I will get to the bottom of it. I need you to try … for
me.”

Nazirah is finally alone. She watches the
open door for a moment and then lays her head on the hospital bed.
She stares at the ceiling. Nikolaus is right, for once. She can’t
keep doing this to herself. And he doesn’t deserve any more pain,
especially caused by her. She will try. For Niko, she will try. She
doesn’t know if it will work, but it’s worth a shot. Nazirah
doesn’t want to die, but she isn’t sure she wants to live like
this, either.

Chapter
Seven

A day later, it’s the blessed weekend, and
Nazirah doesn’t have to worry about combat training for forty-eight
glorious hours. She sleeps in on Saturday, letting her body fully
heal. She doesn’t get out of bed until the sun is high in the sky.
Rested and rejuvenated, Nazirah takes a long run outside. She lies
in the overgrown meadow for a while. It’s nearly fall, but the
Eridian heat never falters.