Aminah leaned in, her breath hot against Zainab’s ear. “He is not a beggar, Zainab. It is a penance. He is the man who lost everything in a gamble he could not win. He does not stay with you out of love. He stays with you because he hides. He uses your blindness as a cloak.”
The world fell silent. The sounds of birds, water, wind… everything faded, replaced by a roar in Zainab’s ears. She staggered back, her staff hitting a root, nearly collapsing her.
“He is a liar,” Aminah whispered. Ask him about the Great Fire of the East. Ask him why he cannot appear in the city.
Zainab fled. She did not use her staff; she ran on instinct and agony, finding her way back to the cabin with desperate feet. She sat in the dark for hours, the cold earth seeping into her bones.
When Yusha returned, the air seemed different. Its woodsmoke smell now smelled of burned deception.
“Zainab?” he asked, sensing the change. He left a small package on the table: bread, perhaps, or some cheese. What happened?
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Food
food
“Have you always been a beggar, Yusha?” he asked. His voice was hollow, like a reed snapping in the wind.
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