Adamek walks straight through her towardshis closet, sending cold shivers through her body. Nazirah whirlsaround as Adamek searches for an appropriate shirt, seeing hisdusza for the first time. She stares open-mouthed. The tattoocovers the entire left side of his back. Thousands of tiny blackcharacters, in an ancient text Nazirah cannot read, scroll invertical columns from shoulder to spine. She walks forward, wantingto see it up close, but is startled by the sound of soft knockingat Adamek’s door.
Adamek swiftly slips on a white shirt. Heopens the door to reveal Victoria holding two silk ties, clearly apeace offering. Victoria walks in, gingerly closing the door behindher. “I thought you might need these,” she says, holding up bothsolid black and sequined options. Adamek eventually nods at thesolid one and allows Victoria to slip it around his neck. Shesmiles slightly. “You never were one to follow the latesttrends.”
“Thank you,” he says.
Adamek clearly cares for his mother. Nazirahdoesn’t know why she finds this unnerving. She’s never thoughtabout him as a son before, but she guesses it is yet another parthe plays. Victoria tentatively touches Adamek’s cheek. There’s atension and formality between the two of them that Nazirah neverexperienced with Riva or Kasimir, even when they fought. Nazirah isquickly realizing that there are many unspoken words between theMorgens.
Victoria’s attention drifts to the muralbehind Adamek. “I don’t understand why you’re obsessed with thatmonstrosity,” she says.
Adamek stiffens. “I was drawn to it,” hereplies, “when I traveled abroad to see the lost ruins.”
Nazirah is bewildered. Adamek traveledoutside of Renatus? He saw the remnants of the Final War,scattering the world’s population around their sole survivingcountry? No one, Medi or otherwise, is permitted to leave Renatus.Ever.
Victoria lightly touches the mural. “Yes,”she says. “And it cost us a minor fortune to excavate, transport,and restore for you. And even then we couldn’t fit most of it inhere.” She shakes her head. “It’s such a ghastly piece, Damek. Whynot let me cover it? I’ll commission the best artist in all ofRenatus to paint something worthy of you.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Adamek snaps.“Why are you bringing this up again?”
“Damek,” she says slowly, “this morbidobsession you have with death is not natural.”
Wait, what? Aren’t theytalking about a painting? When did they start talking aboutdeath? Nazirah searches the fresco morecarefully. It’s filled with figures climbing onto clouds, allfocused around a man with a raised right arm and a lady in blue.She still doesn’t get it. Adamek looks down at his bare hands,clenches them. “Easy to say for someone who never gets their handsdirty,” he says quietly.
“Damek, please,” Victoria pleads. “I’m nothere to argue with you. It isn’t productive for us, and it’s notgood for my health. But you’ve changed so much these past fewyears. You’re almost unrecognizable to me.”
“I’ve grown up,” he says. “That’s whathappens.”
Fat teardrops streak Victoria’s lovely face.“It’s more than that!” she cries. “You never used to wear the caresyou do now! I fear your father and I made a grievous mistake,sending you to the monkey so many years ago. You should havetrained here instead, with the other Medis. But we wanted the bestfor you.”
“This has nothing to do with that,” hesnaps. “I’ve gone against all of my teachings.”
“Damek,” Victoria implores, “you can stillstop! You don’t have to keep doing this, if you don’t want to.”
His eyes narrow. “I have to do it,” hegrowls, “despite the fact that I don’t want to. I do it to keepMediah safe. I do what’s right.”
“You do what Gabirel tells you to do! What’seasy!” she hisses. “Not what’s right!” Victoria grabs Adamek’shands, her eyes wildly roaming the sea of scratches. “I neverwanted this life for you, Damek,” she says, her voice a shadow of awhisper. “And I am afraid for you, afraid of what you’re becoming …afraid of what you may already be.”
Adamek wrenches his hands from her. “Whatyou’re saying is blasphemy.”
“Damek …”
His voice is cold and bitter. “Please leave.I’ll be down in a moment. We wouldn’t want to keep your guestswaiting.”
Victoria nods tersely, collecting herself.She walks to the door. “I guess it’s a nice painting,” she saysfinally. “In a primitive, pedestrian sort of way. Who painted itagain?”
Adamek glances at the mural. “Someone namedMichel, I think,” he says. “Michel of the angels. I found it in acollapsed church over the Eastern Sea. The souls on the left arerising into heaven while the souls on the right are descending intohell. And their god is in the center, judging them all.”
“Adamek,” Victoria whispers, “there can be abetter way to live. We can be better.”
Adamek turns around, but she’s alreadygone.
Nazirah watches the carefully constructedmask of Adamek Morgen shatter into pieces. He bangs his fists onthe wall, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against it.
Adamek stays like that for a long time,breathing hard, before walking to his desk and sitting down. Hereaches into the bottom left-hand drawer, moving some books asideto reveal a hidden compartment. Pulling out another silver case,smaller than the one that holds the Iluxor, Adamek enters the samefour digit code on this keypad and opens it. He retrieves a thinneedle and a small bottle filled with black ink. Adamekmeticulously wipes the needle, inhaling deeply. He opens thebottle, dipping the needle into it with such care it makes Nazirahsick. Nazirah wants to look away but she can’t. She knows exactlywhat he’s doing. Adamek told her once that Medis believe in nothingexcept power. But if Adamek believes in anything, it’s this.
Like it’s his religion, Adamek zealouslytakes the inky needle tip and pushes it into the back of his hand,skillfully etching a small black scratch. It bleeds only a little.Nazirah watches as he makes one more scratch on his hand beforereturning the items to the case. Two unremarkable scratches alreadylost in a dark ocean. But Nazirah knows they represent two innocentlives Adamek has taken this night.
Adamek pulls out a pistol from his jacketpocket. He places the gun inside the case as well, locks it, andreturns it to the secret compartment. He clasps his hands togetheron the desk, as if in prayer. A tear mars his face. “I’m sorry todisappoint you, Victoria,” he says sadly. “But I don’t know howelse to live.”
Adamek rises from his desk,moving towards the door. Nazirah gets a strange feeling in her gutthat tells her not to follow him just yet. She looks from Adamek tothe drawer where the gun is safely hidden, a nagging suspicioncreeping into her mind. Almost against her own will, Nazirah movescloser to Adamek’s desk and stands directly over it. She feels thepull of his memory, dragging her away. But she can’t leave yet, notuntil she knows for sure. She scans the contents of the desk, feelsthe nausea hit when she finds what she’s looking for. The date isApril 4th, the day her parents died.
He’s just murdered them.
Nazirah’s chest constrictsand her throat tightens. She wants to leave Adamek’s memory… now. But she’seither injected too much serum or the memory isn’t over, becauseshe can’t leave. She’s at the mercy of Adamek’s mind.
Adamek’s memory flashes forward. Nazirahwatches distantly as he returns to the party, laughing and jokingwith friends. Victoria and Gabirel dance together, smiling in eachother’s arms. The music winds down like a broken accordion. Thecrowd peters out. The handlers return the animals to their cages.Adamek searches for his parents, unable to find them.
Nazirah unwillingly follows him back towardshis room, tired and emotionally drained. To Nazirah’s surprise,Adamek passes it by. He turns down a new hallway and knocks on adoor to his right. He enters a feminine room full of pinks andpastels. It’s clearly Victoria’s private chambers. Nazirah knowshe’s here to apologize for his behavior. She’s annoyed at having towatch them reconcile, when he so easily just destroyed her entirefamily. But Victoria isn’t here.