20. Vapas
20
VAPAS
T he two Maulavi glare, impatiently waiting. I affect a calm exterior that is far from what I am feeling. They shift their heavy gazes around my home with imperious judgment. A growl slips free before I can stop it and one of them locks his eyes onto me.
“Something you want to say?” he asks.
This one speaks softly, unlike his partner. He is, by far, the more dangerous of the two. As with many of the Maulavi they are not physically imposing. I am certain in a fight I could take both of them, but it’s not them that would be the problem. There are too many of them. The Shaman has too many allies among the people even beyond the number of Maulavi who are all in on his visions of doom and destruction.
“Nothing,” I grunt.
I hear her as she steps onto the stairs. My heart beats faster knowing she is approaching and worse knowing the danger she is walking into. All without even considering what I almost did to her.
She was willing. I did not force it.
Does it matter? It is still a betrayal of her trust. I gave my word. Not only to her, but to my dragoste.
She would want me to live, not waste what time I have left in this world before we find one another again in the next.
“Hurry up!” the loud Maulavi barks.
“She does not speak our language,” I point out.
He growls as he makes a slashing motion with his hand. The quiet one watches me closely. I feel his silent gaze, observing and noting everything. My estimation of him being the true threat becomes ever more certain.
“Order her,” the loud one demands.
“No,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
His eyes widen and his mouth hangs open. He is all but shaking with rage but I remain calm, meeting his emotions with careful non-resistance.
“You dare,” he hisses.
“She comes,” I say.
He takes a step forward in an attempt to be threatening. I do not move or react. Holding my place is the best I can do and more than I should, but I gave her my word.
Yes. My word. That is why I do this.
I know the lie when I think it but it is easier to lie to myself than to confront the truth. Besides I do not really know the truth. Suspect, wonder, curious, these are not truth. Truth is… truth.
“If you stand in our way I will report you,” he hisses.
His breath is as foul as he is. Everyone knows the Maulavi are hoarding the best of our dwindling resources for themselves, but I wouldn’t think it by the odor of his breath. He smells like he’s been dining on raw sewage. I struggle to not gag at its assault on my senses.
“She—”
“Hello?” Phoebe asks, stepping up behind and stopping my words before I finish.
I glance over my shoulder and shock hits hard and fast. She is… stunning. I thought she was beautiful when we were about to be intimate, but dressed as she is takes her beauty to an entirely new and different level.
Her soft belly is exposed, outlined between the layers of cloth of her pants and her shirt which she has bound so it ties just beneath her full, luscious breasts. Her cheeks are colored a soft pink and though I feel her fear and uncertainty, it doesn’t show in her stance or in the timbre of her voice.
“She is to come with us,” the loud Maulavi says, stepping to the side and moving forward to pass me.
Phoebe gasps, soft and barely audible, but I do not miss it. My heart aches knowing she is afraid and I have to resist the almost overwhelming urge to destroy this Maulavi for causing her fear. I throw my arm out, blocking his progress. He hisses and pushes against my arm but I do not let him move me.
“No,” I say, keeping my voice level and even.
“We operate on the order of the Shaman,” he says, his voice raising until it cracks when he says ‘Shaman’.
“She is mine,” I say.
“Yours?” he sneers. “What right do you think you have to her? We put her here and we will take her away.”
I meet his glare, refusing to let myself look away. This is the moment. The dangerous game we’ve been playing comes to a head right now. Will the Maulavi respect our traditions or have we, as a people, fallen too far?
“She is my dragoste,” I say.
Phoebe plays her part. She steps close and places her hand on the small of my back. The touch, her warmth, even her presence is all that I could ever need, giving me strength to hold fast against my own fears and doubts.
“Dragoste,” he spits the word, spittle spraying across me. “Impossible.”
“It is not,” I say.
My strategy is simple. Say nothing more than I absolutely must. Anything extra they will use against us. The Maulavi are experts at manipulation and twisting things to their own ends. Look how the Shaman and they have wrested control of all of us. He sputters a moment before stopping and then taking a step back. He narrows his eyes, his lips pursing into a hard thin line.
“You lie,” he says.
Instead of answering in words, I growl. Moving slow so that the threat is implied, but not too overt. I lower my arms to my sides and lean forward. He doesn’t back down, leaning in too.
My heart beats faster as adrenaline hits. I’m ready for him to push just a little further. One more insult, one more challenge, and I’ll have no choice but to make him regret stepping foot into my home. Where that will leave us though, I have no idea, but I cannot, will not turn her over to them.
The loud Maulavi snarls, his face inches from mine, but it’s the quiet one who intervenes.
“Enough,” the soft-spoken Maulavi says, his voice cutting through the rising tension of the moment.
The loud one glances at his companion. The quiet Maulavi’s expression is unreadable, but his tone carries authority, subtle and dangerous. He steps forward, his gaze flicking between Phoebe and me.
“You claim she is your dragoste,” he says, his words deliberate and probing. His suspicious eyes boring into mine. “Prove it.”
My jaw tightens. I feared this request—or demand—, but there wasn’t time to prepare or coach Phoebe which doesn’t make it any easier. Phoebe’s hand on my back tenses slightly, and I glance at her, finding her eyes steady and determined despite the fear I know she’s hiding.
She is willing. After all we just…
No. Even if she doesn’t resist, I will not treat her like this. No matter that my thoughts and heart are in confusion, this one thing I know with absolute certainty. I will not see her treated with dishonor by anyone, including me. The quiet one is watching, rhythmically tapping a finger on his thigh as if calculating.
“We will not perform for you,” I say.
The loud Maulavi sneers again, but the quiet one raises a hand to silence him.
“The Shaman will demand proof. We all play our parts, don’t we? Besides if your claim is true, then there will be no need for performance. The bond is real, or it is not.” His gaze sharpens, cold and calculating. “But if you lie, Vapas, the consequences will be severe—for both of you.”
Phoebe steps forward before I can stop her.
“I don’t know what you think you’ll accomplish by taking me away,” she says, her voice steady despite the tremor I feel in her touch. “But my… feelings for Vapas are… real. Whatever you’re after, I don’t know it and don’t have it.”
The loud Maulavi opens his mouth, but the quiet one silences him again with a sharp glance.
“She speaks with conviction,” the quiet one says, his gaze lingering on Phoebe. “But words are not enough. As I said, the Shaman will expect proof.”
“And if the Shaman demands such, he’ll have to come himself,” I growl, stepping in front of Phoebe protectively.
The quiet Maulavi considers this for a long moment. Finally, he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line.
“Well,” he says, tapping one finger against his lips while shifting his gaze back and forth between Phoebe and me. “Know this, Vapas, this is far from over.”
He turns and motions to his companion, who glares one last time before storming out. The quiet one pauses in the doorway, halfway out, his gaze lingering on Phoebe.
“Be careful, human. This game you play is more dangerous than you realize.”
Phoebe doesn’t flinch, meeting his stare with unwavering resolve. When the door closes behind them, the silence that follows is deafening. I exhale slowly, turning to face her.
“Are you all right?” I ask, my voice softer.
Phoebe nods, but her hand trembles as she brushes her hair back.
“I think so. What just happened? What do they want from me?”
I take her hand in mine, grounding her in the moment.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
Why is she so important? What is it they expect to learn from her? What is it they are worried about?
Too many questions fill my head and I don’t have any answers. I’ve heard some rumors, but before Phoebe came, I was barely going through the motions of life. Now, though, she gives me purpose. My life has meaning and I am no longer waiting to die so I can find my dragoste in the next world.
“I’m scared,” she whispers.
I turn and take her into my arms. Brushing a strand of hair away from her face, I try to find words that will bring her comfort, but there are none. In truth, I too am scared.
Defying the Maulavi isn’t something you do. I’ve seen them come in the night, breaking down doors to capture dissenters. Those they take either disappear or become fodder for the infernal machine.
As if my thought triggers it, there is a loud rumble in the distance. Signs that the Paluga awakens, or so the Shaman says. He claims once it awakens this world will be reset in fire.
The rumbling becomes a quake. Dust falls from the ceiling. I grab Phoebe and pull her to my chest, hunching over to protect her if anything falls. The quake is small compared to the recent events, more a tremor.
A fitting metaphor for the effect Phoebe has had on my life.
As the quake ends I take a quick glance for damage but all I see is that the kitchen cabinet doors have swung open and a few things have fallen out. Phoebe has her arms wrapped tightly around my waist and her face is pressing hard to my chest. When I straighten, she doesn’t let go, clinging while her tears moisten my shirt.
“I won’t let them take you from me.”
She looks up at me, her glistening eyes searching mine. Her soft lips are pursed into a hard line.
“Do you think they believed us?”
I hesitate, my heart pounding. The words come unbidden, raw and honest.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
Her breath catches, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of us. Whatever comes next, I know one thing with certainty: I will fight for her, no matter the cost.