Once We Were Starlight

“No!” I screamed, reaching around Ahmad’s waist and helping Zakai bring him over the top of the wall. We laid him down on the ground and Zakai, his hands shaking, untightened the noose, and patted Ahmad’s cheek, first gently and then harder.

“Come back!” Zakai yelled, and I heard the sob trapped within his throat. His sound of anguish pierced my already broken heart, as Zakai bent his head over our friend and our teacher.

I fell down beside Zakai and hung my head as well, gripping the front of his shirt in my fists. My heart screeched with agony and something unnamed inside me wilted and died. “I love you,” I said to Ahmad, tears clogging my throat so that I barely choked the words. But Ahmad didn’t hear. His body lay before us, but his soul flew free.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I was worried about Zakai. There was something dark and violent brewing in his gaze. Night surrounded him even under the stark midday sun, and when I closed my eyes I not only heard the unholy howl rising inside him, but I felt it in my own spirit too, painful and raw. Clawing.

Our family all felt the loss of Ahmad and Bibi. Sundara was quieter than ever before, each of us drawing inward in our own ways. I grieved deeply for them both, finding refuge in the courtyard where we’d once met. I felt them there, Bibi’s gentle sweetness, and Ahmad’s wisdom. I’d always remember him as the small man with a great and mighty heart.

We would learn no more, Zakai and I, unless it was from tale’s given to us by Sundara newcomers. Even if someone showed up with lessons to impart and the willingness to do so, I knew neither Zakai nor myself would allow it to happen. We understood the penalty for knowledge on Sundara, and it was far too hefty a price to pay.

If anything positive came from that terrible time, it was that Berel was put on the plane and flown away. Where that place was, I neither asked about nor cared.

A moon grew full, and then another, until the night Haziq came screaming from his chamber, his bodyguards rushing to action as the man burst forth, falling and rolling in the grass. “A viper!” he screamed. “There was a viper in my bed!” We all rushed as close as we dared, while one of Haziq’s bodyguards went back inside and exited moments later with the head of the snake in one hand, and the body in the other, his bloody knife strapped back against his side. He flung the dead creature over the wall and returned to Haziq who was clutching his swollen foot, the angry fang marks already purple and oozing venom.

I turned away, heading to find Zakai, but spotting him standing alone in a darkened corner, his hands in the pockets of his trousers, leaning casually against the wall as he watched the scene. But while his stance was indifferent, his expression was not—one side of his lips hitched in a smirk, rage and satisfaction blazing in his half-lowered gaze.

“You,” Haziq bellowed, his fat finger pointing in Zakai’s direction. Apparently he’d spotted him at the same moment I had. “Come here!”

Zakai didn’t pause. He pushed himself off the wall with his shoulder, and without removing his hands from his pockets, strolled toward where Haziq lay, one of his bodyguards wrapping his foot in linen. “Did you see who entered my chamber?” Haziq demanded, his eyes narrowed with suspicion and burning with half-tempered fury.

But Zakai only smiled. “What makes you think anyone entered your chamber? Snakes are cunning creatures who like to hide. You might be more careful about checking your surroundings. We’d all hate to see you gravely injured.”

Haziq’s eyes narrowed further but he was distracted by the pain in his foot and yelled out when the bodyguard fastening the linen around his ankle pulled too tight.

I watched Zakai for several moments, his untroubled expression never changing. I didn’t need to know how he’d managed to enter Haziq’s bed chamber. I chose not to picture Zakai capturing a deadly viper. But there was no need to do either to be sure that Zakai was responsible for the bite on Haziq’s foot. And to understand clearly that Haziq’s puncture wound paled in comparison to the damage he’d done to our hearts.

We’d survived many losses before as family members earned their way off Sundara, waving goodbye as we remained. But none felt quite so excruciating as the loss of Ahmad.

And, for that reason, Haziq’s pain brought me satisfaction too.

**********

The desert was shaking, sand rolling and undulating around me, forming giant waves that moved ever closer, threatening to sweep me under. I screamed, calling for Zakai but he was nowhere to be seen. I was alone, alone and—