With Cannoli gone, Matt, Ceres, and Keke shared their own carriage, which left Zahra alone with Kirti and Cailu.
Kirti favored Zahra with her haunting orange stare, a permanent smirk affixed to her face. She juggled three colored rocks between her fingers. Somehow, their clicking together was worse than the silence.
For the hundredth time in their travels, Zahra wondered if she’d made a mistake. How could she possibly fill Naeemah’s shoes when Kirti so easily slid beneath her skin? She missed Tristan’s Party and their warm conversations. Cailu and Kirti felt so beyond her reach, both in Level and in knowledge. Zahra had never ventured from Ichi Island, which limited her greatly.
I wish I could return home.
But that would mean failing Queen Naeemah. Zahra would rather die than fail her.
“Our last few days of traveling have felt so cold,” Kirti mused. “What happened to building trust, Zahra?”
Zahra looked out the carriage window, searching for something she could concentrate on that wasn’t the [Witch Doctor]. Unfortunately, the road outside of Irisil was a sea of grass. Not a tree or a mountain or much of anything beyond the occasional rock or weed.
Kirti sighed. “And here I thought Benzi would bring us closer together.”
Zahra had avoided Kirti since playing her conceptual card game. After just a few plays, Kirti made it clear that she was looking for more than just a way to pass the time. “The questions you ask are…” She paused, searching for the right word.
“Dangerous?” Kirti supplied.
Zahra stole a glance from the corner of her eye. Kirti’s smile had widened.
“Did you find my questions dangerous, Cailu?” Kirti asked.
“That would depend on who you ask,” Cailu murmured into his hand. He had taken to staring out the window on his side, idly listening to the conversation. Zahra wondered why he was so quiet but her nerves wouldn’t allow her to question him. “I do not believe that Saoirse’s [Acolyte]s would find your quandaries appropriate.”
Finding herself unsettled by Cailu’s reply, Zahra turned and appealed to Cailu. “Asking where the Defiled come from? If Saoirse truly exists? If trapping souls into your stones would alter the fate of the world? That’s blasphemous!” Her voice sounded more desperate than she’d intended, like a kitten arguing with her mother. “E-excuse me, I’ve spoken out of turn.”
“No, Zahra. Please, continue.” Kirti collected the trio of stones in her palm and curled them into a fist. “It seems you have forgotten our conversation about my research.”
Zahra squirmed. On the boat. Kirti herself had said the books she read were marked as blasphemous. But to hear her force the questions out loud and attempt to tease the answers from Cailu—Kirti went against everything Zahra was taught.
Cailu slightly shifted his position to watch them, and Kirti’s eyes never left Zahra’s face. It was an intense scrutiny from both parties that Zahra had never experienced before.
She cleared her throat. “My mother told me that many catgirls are punished and rehabilitated for less. My father believed that questioning the world’s deepest secrets was to question the creator itself.”
“You knew your father?” Cailu asked.
Zahra flushed. “No. But Krethik’s teachings were passed on in my family.”
“Not to your sister,” Kirti said.
The mention of Sanrai twisted knots inside Zahra’s stomach and chest. Despite all that had happened and the time separating her from Sanrai’s death, it still felt surreal. Like at any moment, Sanrai would be there, telling Zahra how disappointed she was. “You have mentioned Sanrai on multiple occasions now. How do you know so much about her?”
“I told you, child. Do not ask questions that you don’t want the answers to,” Kirti said, narrowing her gaze.
“I want the answer!” Zahra snapped. Her hands trembled at her sides. When had they balled into fists? For days on end, she’d forced herself to stay neutral. Carefully hide her emotions and expressions as Naeemah did.
But she wasn’t Naeemah. That much was clear.
“Answer her, Kirti,” Cailu said.
“I am neither your familiar nor your pet, Cailu. Do not order me like a beast come to heel.” An angry fire flickered in Kirti’s eyes.
“You avoid the topic, then.” Cailu shook his head. “I thought it was I who spoke in circles?”
For the first time since joining their Party, Kirti looked uncomfortable. Zahra blinked; the slight squirm and droop of Kirti’s shoulders looked out of place on her confident form. Zahra’s tangled stomach loosened, and the first pricks of unease cooled her frustration. What if Kirti was trying to protect her?
Kirti unfurled her fingers and studied the stones in her hand. With a long sigh, she tucked them into her [Cat Pack] and folded her hands into her lap.
“When you deal in the business of souls, you learn to read them.” Kirti measured her words, and her knowing posture returned. “Everyone’s soul has etchings from their journey of existence. These etchings may be written into us by others—” she looked directly at Cailu, “—like a wife or daughter, for example.”
Cailu’s features darkened. Zahra’s heart skipped, and her breath caught. It was as if winter had swept into their carriage. She didn’t know what a wife was and was too afraid to ask.
“You think to punish me, witch?” Cailu growled.
Kirti held his glare without so much as flinching. “I only do as you ask.”
“Mention either of them again, Kirti, and I assure you my blade will etch its memory into your flesh.” Cailu’s voice was cold and furious.
Zahra shivered. She knew she had to say something. Anything. “Sanrai, then, she’s etched into me?”
“Yes.” Kirti didn’t break her stare with Cailu.
“Do you have anyone that’s etched onto you, Kirti?” Zahra continued.
“All those I’ve interacted with. As we all do.”
“Well, some interactions are more meaningful than others, correct? Like a sister or a mother?” Zahra was reaching. As much as Kirti frustrated and terrified her, she didn’t want Cailu to cut the woman down. It would feel as if she’d failed Naeemah. “Surely more important people leave bigger marks?”
“An interesting assumption.” Kirti relaxed back into her seat. Cailu didn’t move. “‘Bigger’ is not the term I would use. They are…different. But you have the right of it.”
“So, who was different for you?” Zahra repeated.
A tiny smile returned to Kirti’s lips. “What a roundabout way to question my history.”
Zahra waited to see if the tiniest sign of forgiveness would come from Cailu. When he still remained a statue, she continued, “Listen, I wish to trust you. I wish to think your research is for the betterment of Nyarlea. But you know so much about us, and we know so little about you.”
Kirti looked between her and Cailu, then crossed her arms and let her eyes slide to the window. It was a long time before she said anything. “I share a similar mark to Cailu. An etching I recognized immediately.”
“Oh? Please, enlighten us,” Cailu said.
Kirti stared far outside the window—beyond the rocks and weeds and miles of grass. “I lost my daughter to the Defiled.” Her hollow tone reverberated in Zahra’s bones.
Cailu’s façade cracked, and his hands relaxed. “My apologies, Kirti. It’s an unfortunate reality for many in Nyarlea.”
“Perhaps,” Kirti murmured. “Tell me, do pity and sympathy garner trust?”
“No. But I think understanding can,” Zahra replied softly. “Loss is something we share. It could help us fight on a more united front.”
“Vengeance does not grant peace,” Cailu said as he leaned back.
“Not for vengeance. I meant for… well…” Zahra stumbled, unable to find the right words to say. “Never mind.”
“For Growth,” Kirti supplied. “You’re better at Benzi than you think.”
Silence fell over them again, though warmth had blessedly returned to the carriage. Zahra pulled her long hair over her shoulder and joined Kirti in watching the land pass them by.
Maybe this journey wasn’t wasteful after all.
I get Kirti a ton. I love pulling the chuuni occultist vibe too.