The Phoenix Pharaoh: Rise from the Ashes

XXV

In the newborn sunlight, Zahra trekked across a dusty village. Clusters of loosely built homes surrounded each side of the unpaved streets, their bamboo roofs tilted forward as if bowing towards the sleepy Heka. She bit into a freshly carved papaya wedge. The sweet juice dribbled down her chin and fell to the ground, quenching the parched streets. After crossing a short bridge, she walked away from the slumbering village and towards the outskirts of the town. Following a beaten path with imprints of wheels and shoes, she made her way up towards an easily forgettable hut on the side of a hill.

Across from the bamboo hut sat Kanu, his back against a lean tree and his eyes tracing the words of his outspread book. Despite the frigidness of the still air, his teeth didn't chatter, his body didn't shiver, and his hands didn't tremble—perhaps because of the lengthy, jet-black coat he had wrapped around himself like a cocoon. Zahra, though, wasn't so adjusted to the cold.

"How can you stay out here like it's the middle of the summer?" she asked, blowing hot air between her clasped hands.

"Good coats keep you warm," Kanu replied dryly, shutting his book. "I'm surprised you're up this early."

"That hut can barely fit a horse, let alone a group of people."

"It's better than being crammed inside a van."

"I can't argue with that."

Kanu stood up and tucked his book underneath his arm. "So, since you're speaking to me, can I take that as being completely forgiven?"

"Oh no, not so fast," Zahra said between wet chews. "I'd say you're at, er, 65 percent forgiven, which is a lot more than Mera right now."

The tilted door of the hut swung open, smacking the outer wall. Zahra and Kanu's heads snapped towards the abrupt sound and watched as Issa, cloaked in a gray shawl, approached them. Trailing behind him was a middle-aged woman, her frizzed braid bouncing off her back and her faded yellow dress dragging along the dirt.

"Is Mera awake?" Zahra asked, dropping the pulpy skin of her finished papaya onto the ground.

"Yes," Issa confirmed. Zahra lurched forward, but met Issa's frail yet firm hand instead. "Hold on, Zahra. A moment, please. You can't go in there and start beating him."

"And why not? He deserves it!" Zahra shouted as she smacked Issa's hand away.

"Kya vah use maarana chaahatee hai?" the older woman said, glancing at Issa.

"What did Shanta say now?"

"She wants to know if you want to beat him up," Issa answered.

"Well, no shit! He was abusing—"

Shanta pressed her finger against Zahra's lips, shushing her.

"Aapako shaant hona chaahie aur ek pal ke lie sunana chaahie," she remarked along with an agreeable nod from Issa and Kanu. A string of curses sat on the tip of Zahra's tongue, but she closed her mouth after noting Shanta's stern countenance. The fine wrinkles etched across her forehead only made her furrowed brows more prominent, and upon meeting her unblinking bark-colored eyes, Zahra flicked Shanta's finger away and leaned against the sprawling tree beside her.

"I'm guessing she told me to shut up and listen?"

"Yes, she did. You must learn to be quiet and listen," Issa said in a reassuring tone.

"Fine, but make it quick," Zahra grumbled, waving a dismissive hand in the air.

"Mera is weak right now," Issa began. "Berating him is not the best way to address his addiction, even though I am quite exasperated with him as well. Still, just listen to what he has to say. You were gone for quite some time, Zahra. Some of us remained the same, but others—" Issa huffed out a hot breath, tickling the prickly hairs of his beard, "well, others changed."