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“Duty?” I press. “You do your duty, no matter what. Is that it?”
“Of course that is it!” he yells leaping to his feet and knocking the chair away again.
The chair clatters and I can’t help but recoil from his anger. When I do his eyes wide and he backs up holding his hands up and making a patting motion again.
“Sorry,” he says. “I am sorry.”
I stand up and back away.
“I should sleep,” I say.
He looks stricken. As if my words are a dagger to his heart but that’s probably my imagination. Same as it's only my imagination that he actually cares about me. He’s doing his duty and here I am, an enforced prisoner shoved into his house. He’s probably bitter that I’m interrupting his routines. Eating his food. Taking up his space. I turn my back on him and walk out of the kitchen then stop at the stairs.
“No. You can have the bed,” I say. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”
“Niyah—” he says walking out of the kitchen so he can see me.
“No,” I cut him off. “Take your damn bed and enjoy it. See if I care.”
I spin away from him and come to a stop facing the wall. His eyes burn into my back but he doesn’t come closer and I refuse to look at him. I’m not sure I can hold onto the anger. I need it though because without it the only thing that would be left is fear.
“Niyah, you will sleep in the bed,” he says. “I insist.”
“Because you’re my jailer?” I ask the wall.
“Because it is the right thing,” he says.
“Right?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder. “Right for who?”
He shakes his head, his mouth works, then he drops his eyes to the floor.
“It is safest,” he says. “Best. Please, if you wish sleep, go upstairs.”
“Fine,” I agree.
I wish it felt like I’d won something but it doesn’t. We’re fighting over stupid shit because I’m scared and I don’t know if I can trust him. I can’t tell him that it’s true, I was sent here. I am on a mission, just like the Maulavi suspect, only it’s not a mission to destroy. It’s a mission to try and save these people. All of them. Not just from the Zmaj, but from themselves.
None of that can be said, though. I can’t trust him with the truth. And having a secret sucks. It feels like the entire mountain over our heads is pressing down on my shoulders as I make my way up the stairs. Every step is so heavy it takes all my strength to take it. By the time I reach the bed, I collapse onto it and barely have the will to pull the blanket over.
13
NIYAH
Left then right. What was next? It was… the tunnel split and then we went left.
Despite the fact that I’m absolutely exhausted I can’t sleep. I’ve been trying. Tossing to one side then the other but every time I begin to drift off I hear him say it again. Prisoner. I am a prisoner.
Why that bothers me so much I can’t figure out. Others have said it and I didn’t care. It’s when Bhoja said it that it felt… wrong. As if I was trapped where before I hadn’t felt like that, no matter that I am. It is bad enough that I’ve been separated from the other girls. I’m all alone with this alien that I know very little about, but he’d been so kind.
The food, the gestures, I thought, no. Fool. I thought nothing because I was an idiot. Why would he be interested in me anyway? I’m not Greta. I’m nothing special. There is nothing between us. He is doing his duty, that’s it. He was ordered to take care of me and he happens to be a really good cook. It wasn’t made special for me, there was no care put into it that was unique because of me.
Fool. Fucking fool.
Lying here, awake, unable to find my way to sleep I’ve been digging through my memory of the path we took to get here. Replaying every turn. Every step. I have to have it perfect. If I don’t, I’ll fuck this up too. And doing that will most likely mean death. I’ll either run into a trap or get lost and starve to death wandering under the mountain for whatever remains of my life.
Rolling onto my back I stare at the ceiling and replay the trip again. I finally think I have it figured out. But am I going to do this?
I chew on my lip and consider all my options. If I do, I’m abandoning the other girls. That makes my stomach flip and feel yucky, but what good am I doing them now? I don’t know where they are or what is happening with them. There is, literally, nothing I can do to help them or any way for me to know if they even need help.
