“Stop repeating yourself,” she snapped again. “I understand. Aren’t you in a hurry to read your book? Go. I have an important ceremony to conduct.”
Hadjia brought her eye even with the slit in the smokescreen just in time to see the masked man slip out of the hall through a side door so thin he almost couldn’t get through it. Mother Sigunta remained at the altar, staring at it as if it would open and swallow her up in one great maw.
Hadjia leaned back, blinking.
Mother Sigunta had said the words herself: The people who had died were ‘innocent.’
Hadjia’s mind spun back to the previous day.
The weeping child in the back. The look of horror in the dead eyes of the little girl’s parents whom Renji had extinguished in cold blood. They hadn’t been evil people after all. No, they were the evil ones.
Hadjia forced her breathing to slow, lest she give herself away. Mother Sigunta never lowered her guard; she could detect everything, even the minutest sound.
Hadjia forced her spinning thoughts to calm and focused on where she was. Although her instincts told her to run, she must stay. Now, more than ever, she had to witness the ceremony. She had to know the machinations behind all the lies she’d been told.
Feeling more in control, Hadjia turned her concentration to the Ceremony Hall. So quiet and calm. It gave space for her thoughts while she mulled over the masked man, his strange words, the familiar way he spoke with Mother Sigunta.
The sound of Mother Sigunta’s sing-song voice jerked Hadjia out of her thoughts.
“I hear you, my little mouse.”
Hadjia’s heart spun like a top in her chest. Mother Sigunta couldn’t have heard her! She’d hardly moved at all.
“Come out, my darling. Don’t hide over there. It’s rude to listen to other people’s conversations, you know?”
Hadjia braced herself. The Mother would find her and kill her, maybe. At the very least, a massive punishment would be in store. She wouldn’t be trusted anymore, not for a long while. But wouldn’t staying hidden would only make it worse?
Just as Hadjia moved to stand up, a shuffling sound near the back corner caught her attention.
Kim!
The little boy peeked out from around the pillar where he’d been hiding.
“Come, come,” Mother Sigunta beckoned. “I see you over there.”
Kim shuffled forward. Thankfully, his eyes were trained on Mother Sigunta and didn’t stray over to reveal Hadjia’s presence.
While he advanced slowly into the room, Hadjia quietly shifted so she could see through the slit.
“M-mother,” Kim whispered. “I-I didn’t mean . . . I . . . I am . . . s-sorry. So sorry.”
Mother Sigunta smiled wide, her crooked bottom teeth gleaming in the early morning sunlight. In the distance, the sounds of the stirring house shifted around, beckoning the dawn of a new day. Any minute now the other children would arrive, packing the room with their tight young bodies.
“My dear boy,” Mother Sigunta drawled. “Come here.”
She spread her arms, inviting him to her embrace with a warm smile.
No! Hadjia wanted to scream. Don’t go! How could he be so foolish? How couldn’t he see the gleam in Mother Sigunta’s eyes? He must have just heard Mother Sigunta admit to killing innocent people. She’d been lying to them! Everything was wrong.
But Kim continued, propelled by his own feet right into Mother Sigunta’s arms. Hadjia forced herself to watch even though she wanted to turn away in horror.
“It’s not very nice to eavesdrop, did you know that?”
Her embrace muffled Kim’s reply. Hadjia swallowed, her body coiled like a spring.
“Silly boy,” Mother Sigunta murmured. “Silly, stupid boy.”
A choking sound came from Kim. His body bucked, quaked, and made strange, strangled noises.
Hadjia closed her eyes, screwing them shut. No. No. No. No. It was one thing to hear Mother Sigunta admit the truth of murder out loud, but to see it? To watch her kill this young boy?
Hot acid rose in Hadjia’s throat, burning through her tongue. She wanted to vomit but swallowed it back.
The sound of a thud made her wince.
Unable to stop herself, Hadjia peered out through the rip one more time.
Kim’s body lay on the ground, his face pale and slack in death. She knew the look well. Fear streaked through her. She curled her fingers into fists, fighting the urge to run. One squeak. One misplaced breath or sound, and Mother Sigunta would hear her. She’d kill her as well, and all of this would just . . . end.
But Mother Sigunta didn’t see her.
The old lady bent over and picked up Kim’s body as if he were no more than a feather, slinging it over her shoulder as if she were a woman fifty years younger. With a quick glance toward the entrance to the Ceremony Hall, Mother Sigunta shuffled toward the back of the room, exiting through the same side door that the strange man had taken.
The moment Mother Sigunta disappeared with the closing of the door, Hadjia leapt to her feet and dashed out of the Ceremony Hall into the hallway. Seconds before she turned to go up the stairs, she collided with another body.
A hand shot out, catching her before she fell.
“Hadjia?”
Kaneko’s calm eyes stared down at her, thick with concern. The words tumbled out of Hadjia’s mouth all at once.
“The Mother . . . Kim . . . dead. She . . . a man and . . .”
“Mother Sigunta is dead?”
“No! Sh-she killed . . . She – “
With a sharp jerk, Kaneko pulled Hadjia by the wrist out of the hallway and into the back of the building, near a small closet filled with dusty old brooms and mop buckets. Hadjia stumbled along blindly, still reeling from shock.
Kaneko shut them into the closet. Only a sliver of light leaked in from around the loose-fitting door, illuminating just enough of Kaneko’s face that Hadjia could see the shock and concern mingling there.
“Quietly explain yourself,” Kaneko whispered, glancing to the door.
The story stumbled out of Hadjia in spurts, rolling like heavy stones. By the time she finished, she felt like she might hyperventilate.
Kaneko reached out, putting a hand on Hadjia’s shoulder. “Calm down.”
The words, a sharp command, worked. Slowly, one breath at a time, Hadjia sucked in lungfuls of air.
“I . . . I’m calm,” she said finally.
In the low light of the closet, Kaneko studied Hadjia intently. “Whatever you heard, forget it.”
“Forget it?” Hadjia echoed.
“The Mother loves this school. She loves us. If she’s done something like that, there’s a reason for it.”
“But killing a student?”
“You don’t know anything about Kim,” Kaneko hissed. “Maybe he was in trouble anyway. Maybe he put the school in jeopardy before. The Mother knows all. We must trust her. She would never kill a student who was true. He must have been a spy.”
A vision of Kim’s frightened face, along with his wide, curious eyes, ran through Hadjia’s mind. He couldn’t have been a spy. Too innocent. Too shy.
“The best you can do is keep your mouth shut,” Kaneko whispered. “If she’s killed Kim for listening in and finds out you were there too, she might kill you as well. Whatever secrets you have, keep them safe.”
Hadjia’s shoulders slumped. “Yes.”
At this, Kaneko seemed to relax a little. “There’s no reason to alarm the other students anyway. Kim broke the rules. As long as we do what they’re supposed to, we’ll be safe. I’m here to help protect you, Hadjia, but we must please The Mother or I cannot do that. Just focus on your test. It’s coming up soon.”
Hadjia felt weak all the way to her bones.
She wanted to rest. To close her eyes and forget Renji’s test, the bloody children in her dreams, and Kim’s wide, curious eyes. She wanted to forget that she couldn’t trust The Mother at all.
“Can you do that?” Kaneko asked, nudging Hadjia out of her thoughts. “Can you please Mother Sigunta and spare yourself – possibly others – from the horrible fate of those who disappoint her?”
Hadjia swallowed, looked up, and met Kaneko’s gaze.