Haziq’s eyes met Ahmad’s, the little man as frozen as I was as he stared back in dread.
“‘And of the man in you would I now speak’,” Haziq hissed. “‘For it is he and not your god-self nor the pigmy in the mist, that knows crime and the punishment of crime.’” He turned toward the servers then, their arms laden with trays of food who, with his nod, approached the table. He lay down the book, though the poem was not finished. I understood, however, that it was not the words that were the point, but rather, his possession of the book. My hands trembled as I reached for Zakai, his hand finding mine and his thumb drawing slow circles on my skin that had always soothed me before. But not now. The terror in my gut was too great to console.
“I have a surprise for my guests,” Haziq said, taking his seat on the cushion and offering a smile, but one laced with venom. He gave a wave of his arm and the server who’d set the large silver platter in front of Ahmad, lifted the top with a flourish to expose the charred body of a beloved monkey circling slowly on a spit.
I let out a strangled sob and Zakai pulled me to him, burying my face in his chest. The guests laughed and cheered as Haziq ordered the meat he described as a great delicacy be sliced and lay upon the plates.
When I dared look up at Ahmad, my heart splintered into a thousand shards. I’d seen the aftermath of Ahmad’s humiliation, his pain made sport, but through it all, he’d held his small head higher than a giant. I’d never seen Ahmad cry. Not until now. Tears tracked slowly down his face and I could see that finally, he’d been broken, his spirit as flayed as the small carcass of the creature he had loved and adored, the one who he’d told me had once saved his soul.
A skinny man with hunched shoulders and a laugh like the hissing of a snake pointed his finger at Ahmad and began to snicker his nasally laugh. “Did you know him?” he asked, pointing to what was now no more than meat, hitting far closer to home than he could possibly know. Ahmad met the man’s eyes, but to me, they appeared as dead as Bibi’s.
My heart seized and rage began to blossom inside me, overtaking the anguish. My sadness was a flower upon the cacti, but my fury was the thorn, ready to slice and punish, and I preferred its sharpness. Slowly, I began to stand, but Zakai gave me a sharp tug, pulling me back down. “Later,” he hissed. I trembled with the need to do something, but I held myself still, gripping Zakai’s hand, digging my nails into my palm, enjoying that pain.
Zakai’s eyes were on Ahmad and though Ahmad’s eyes were still empty, they appeared to be having a silent conversation, Ahmad finally giving a slow nod and closing his lids. He sat that way through the meal, not moving, and not making a sound, and once we were excused, he rose slowly and walked away into the deepening night.
We waited a few minutes until Haziq was engaged in conversation with one of the men and then rose ourselves, rushing in the direction Ahmad had gone. He wasn’t in his room, or any of the gathering areas, nor was he in either of the courtyards.
“Maybe he needs time,” I suggested, laying my hand on Zakai’s arm.
But he shook his head, obviously worried. “No. The look on his face . . .” He turned to me, his own expression grim, his eyes slightly wild. “I have a feeling . . . we have to find him. Let’s split up. You go that way”—he pointed behind us—“and I’ll go this way. Walk along the wall and meet up with me at the back of the property.”
I nodded, and without hesitating, turned away. I walked along the perimeter of the wall, expecting to come upon Ahmad, his short legs dangling over the stone as he stared at the desert. I would climb up next to him and take his hand. Even if the right words of comfort eluded me, I would lay my head on his shoulder and share his pain.
But as I turned the corner and looked down the expanse of wall, there was no one there. My heart dropped just as I heard Zakai’s loud yell. Startled, I turned and dashed in the direction from which I’d come, racing across the moonlit grass.
When I rounded the other side of the building, I saw Zakai hefting something up over the wall, a cry emerging from my throat to realize that it was Ahmad’s lifeless body, a noose still fastened around his neck, the end of the rope tied to a nearby tree.