Chapter 1
*Niusha*
My home had once been a place of comfort… or at least held the illusion of such a notion. One would’ve expected that a village so focused on adopting orphans would be a place of pure goodwill. The mothers and fathers referred to themselves as such—pure—but after my blind, innocent eyes grew into adult ones, the pure parents became eerie. My entire village had turned eerie.
For some reason, my friends continued to turn a blind eye to it, even after the oldest of us disappeared. Perhaps it was because some of the orphans did end up staying in the village. Upon turning eighteen, we’d either be paired up with a significant other or vanish with nary a goodbye. There were theories the other orphans had moved to another village, but none of us who’d left had ever returned. It unsettled me enough to keep my eyes and ears wide open, regardless of explanations offered. Something within my body warned me to not be a fool.
So, I did three things.
Just before turning eighteen, the very first thing I did was to stop drinking the ‘purity,’ a potion they forced us to consume with every dinner. Supposedly, it drove the monsters away from our souls, especially the dreakshasa demons, but when I finally noticed that our sharp-minded leaders weren’t imbibing the liquid at mealtime, I stopped… secretly. And I had to be stealthy about it; being caught emptying my chalice would only have them forcing it down my throat, such was their fervor.
The discontinuation of the purity changed everything, more than I could have expected. I thought I’d been thinking clearly my whole life, but it turned out that I’d been living in a fog thicker than the most choking, humid evenings. The resulting clarity had taken me weeks to get used to, and though it frightened me at first, the enhanced state of mind became addicting, precious. I couldn’t lose it ever again.
My second task was to sneak into the pure elder’s office and change my birth year. If I never turned eighteen on paper, they couldn’t make me disappear. I knew that’d only work for so long, and it relied upon the pure parents’ inattention, but I hadn’t solidified my plan just yet. To be honest, I was scared to even consider a different life. Perhaps this was as good as it was going to get. Perhaps it was much worse out there... in the depths of the jungle.
And finally, the third item was to get my friend, Mehr, to promise to lie and vouch for taking my virginity if my true age was discovered. If they thought I was touched, they wouldn’t be able to force me into taking a spouse to make me a pure mother.
I stared down at my meal, nervously pushing the last of my rice around the plate. Though I appreciated that Mehr was taking such a huge risk for me, and I hoped we’d never have to spin that thorny yarn, I didn’t think it would happen. Years had passed since I’d come of age, but recently, I’d heard things I shouldn’t have, and now I had a much larger concern. Time was running out for a different reason.
“Did you take your purity, Niusha?” a pure mother asked tersely, and I nodded before showing her my empty tin chalice. The liquid had long since been dumped into the small jars I kept in my pockets, ready to water the weeds by my hut in the dark of the night. I stuffed the last piece of bread into my mouth and watched the rigid woman depart the dining hall, pausing only briefly to stack several cups and plates onto a tray. I wrapped my wool shawl around my shoulders and left the stone temple, the balmy evening breeze a welcome change to the flat indoor air.
My cotton skirts swished through the weed-ridden, neglected path as I made my way home—a shelter barely more than a hut. We slept beneath clay and twigs until we came of age. It wasn’t so bad inside, but I did have to fix the roofing quite often, especially after long downpours. Little Tahmina, my hutmate, certainly wasn’t going to do it; the fragile seven-year-old could barely open the door.
I sighed and turned to watch the gloomy grey clouds catch the last light of the setting sun. The golden-brown haze stretched from the horizon to the emerald world below, quiet and heavy. We lived high up in the mountains and could view the jungle’s expanse as well as any bird. I couldn’t smell it or touch it, but I heard its wildness. Both below and above, the creatures of the night stirred, including the irritating insects that were addicted to the taste of blood. I cursed inwardly, forgetting that I needed to find extra oils to keep them at bay.
I’d taken care of my entire escape checklist, but I continued to recall important things I’d left out on accident, and that frightened me. There would be no returning once we departed this poisonous place, and I wasn’t talking about the insects this time.
The children are little and few; perhaps the small amount we need to take won’t be as obvious, the demon said to me. The being had slowly begun its possession of my mind a little after I’d stopped taking the purity, but I strongly believed that the trade had been worth it. If I lost a little of my soul to keep a sharp mind, so be it. It was what the potion was supposed to prevent, but I really didn’t see why this demon was such a danger. Perhaps it was only a matter of time until it ate my entire soul, but I thought that saving the children was more important. It was a better fate than my two alternatives.
“I hope so,” I muttered to reply to the demon. It had only ever been helpful, and sometimes, I wondered if ‘demon’ was the right name for it.
I stretched skyward as I studied the canopy below the village, making it look like I was about to go on a casual stroll instead of raiding the communal storage. The only way to dissolve suspicion was to live the lie. I never assumed I wasn’t being watched, and as exhausting as that was, it never failed to keep me out of trouble.
I broke Tahmina’s and my jars of oil. I broke Tahmina’s and my jars of oil. I broke Tahmina’s and my jars of oil, I chanted in my head until I almost started believing it. I’m just getting extras. I’m such a stupid, clumsy fool. I’ll need rags too.
Two pure fathers were already in the storage room, so I forced a bleak look on my face. “Niusha,” one inquired, frowning at me, “what has you coming here?”
I scuffed the dusty wooden floor with my embroidered slipper and looked away for a moment. “I-I’m sorry, pure father. I was moving some things around to fix a part of the roof, and I broke Tahmina’s and my jars of ward oil…” I pasted an angry look on my face and hissed, “Stupid, stupid mistake. I know we don’t have much to spare now, but I also need so—”
“Quiet and take the oils, Niusha,” he interrupted, gesturing me away from him. “You are forgiven.”
“Did you take your purity?” the other asked as I turned away from them, sniffing quietly.
“Yes, Pure Father. I was late taking it, though, and my head hurts a little…” I answered like it was a confession. I waited for it as I walked to where the ward oils were stored; I always let them fill in the last half of the lie themselves.
“That’s probably how you got so clumsy as to break those jars,” he admonished, and satisfaction coursed through me. “You need to take your potion on time.”
“I know… I’m sorry.” I moped, dragging my feet out with two extra jars of oil. “I will try harder, Pure Father.” I trudged all the way home, and I felt an echo of delight from the demon.
You did well. Perhaps that was the last ingredient. We should ready the bags tonight when Tahmina sleeps, the demon said.
I hummed as I opened the door to the hut. A cotton curtain separated my half of the hut from Tahmina’s, a critical piece of privacy to have once I’d started crafting the children’s backpacks. Tahmina was inquisitive even with the purity in her system, and if I didn’t have the divider up, she’d be asking too many questions. Too many questions meant too many lies. Too many lies made it too hard to keep up the act.
Sometimes, I’d have moments where I wasn’t sure what the truth was anymore, and that was when the demon would set me right. It truly pinched my heart that I had to lie to survive. I could only hope that if I lived through our foray into the jungle, I’d never have be false again.
I lit a candle to the sound of Tahmina prying open the creaky hut door. The small thing padded to her bed and asked me to read to her again. I could barely read myself, but I knew enough to understand what was being said. Our favorite story was the one on survival where it explained how to build animal traps. It had very nice drawings, Tahmina’s favorites being the animal illustrations.
After I read through a handful of pages, she rubbed her sleepy eyes and mumbled, “When’re we going on the secret surprise trip, Nini?”
“In two days, I think,” I answered, putting the book aside and tucking the cover under her chin. “Remember, it's a secret. Hush, hush.”
I retreated to my side of the hut, making sure the curtain was drawn all the way so Tahmina wouldn’t see me opening the false floor to pack the extra oils. All seven drawstring backpacks sat there, safe and secure. The large bag was mine, and there were six smaller ones for Tahmina, Anaitis, Fulco, Gerhard, Sam and Jam. These canvas backpacks were precious; it’d taken over a year of cautiously scrounging supplies to make them all, and I’d have a nervous breakdown if someone found and confiscated them.
Just two more days, then we’d be gone.
***
I woke to a harsh rapping, and I nearly fell out of bed in my haste to answer the door, my mouth drying from sheer nervousness.
Don’t look anxious! If they think something’s up, you’re going to make them more suspicious! the demon snapped. It was right.
I forced another yawn out of me as I opened the door. “Good morning, Pure Elder Vimal,” I greeted, stifling another yawn. “Do you need me or Tahmina?”
The tall, willowy man with faded brown hair gestured toward the temple. “You, Niusha,” he ordered hoarsely. His seemingly endless preaching often cost him his voice, a casualty in the war against the demons, fighting the ones who wanted his words. I worried no one else but me found that complete nonsense.
I followed the pure elder to his study in the temple where he gestured for me to sit… next to Mehr. I tilted my head at him in mild surprise, but he didn’t meet my eyes. The young man just sat in his seat, facing straight ahead.
“Are you ok, Mehr?” I asked, but before he could even blink, the pure elder interrupted.
“A pure father saw you last night,” Vimal wheezed, leaning forward in his chair as I kept my violent heart attack to myself, “and he came to ask me if you’d been mothered yet. He could have sworn you were of age by now.”
It’s remarkable that we fooled them for so long, the demon muttered in disappointment.
I plastered a look of confusion on my face and asked, “No one mentioned I’d turned eighteen yet… am I eighteen?” I swung my legs casually from the chair. “And why is Mehr here?”
“Someone changed the birthdate on your records,” he said, pulling out a roll of parchment. “I don’t know who did it, but what’s done is done.” He didn’t look at me, and I chose to just wait him out in silence with a confused expression. “Anyway, we’ve clearly neglected you for too long, so you will be mothered.”
It’s fine; we’ll be gone before th—
“Which will be tonight,” he announced.
The hairs on the back of my neck stiffened in alarm, prickling like wandering spiders. I turned to give Mehr a meaningful look, waiting for him to say that I wasn’t fit to be a spouse—that I was touched already. But Mehr, once again, did not meet my gaze, and my worry increased threefold.
“So why is Mehr here?” I inquired, still shooting looks at him.
“He will be your pure father.”
“I am honored to have been chosen,” Mehr said solemnly, and I gaped. We’d had a plan! How could he betray me like this? Even if he’d been the one to touch me, the ceremony would still be ruined!
“I am not fit to b—” I started saying, initiating the lie for him if he wasn’t going to be brave enough.
“Yes, you are,” Mehr argued, suddenly acting like a complete stranger to me. “You are untouched and pure, and I’m honored to become your spouse.” Then he did something strange; he glanced down at my breasts.
I stood up immediately, so thrown off guard that I wasn’t able to think straight. The room greyed from a head rush, not helping my immediate confusion, and I groped for the back of the chair to stay steady. What was happening here?
“Ignore her odd behavior,” the pure elder dismissed. “She’s been late with her potions, apparently. Her mind isn’t right.”
“That means the ceremony will wait until I’m better?” I asked, grabbing onto a fragile ray of hope.
“No. We’ve waited too long.”
The ray of hope snapped under my grip, and reality caught up to me. I’d been betrayed, and I'd run out of time. I swallowed heavily as my eyes darted between the pure elder and the man I’d thought was my friend. If I stayed in the village, Mehr could force me into his bed tonight. Even though all our newborns died upon delivery, we were still pressured to make them. My friend Gerlind was due any day now, and we’d already dug the small grave.
You’re not thinking about anything helpful, the demon warned. Focus on getting us out of this mess.
“You are excused, Niusha. A pure mother will find you later to prepare you for the ceremony.”
I did what I could to suppress my reeling so I could continue my act, curtseying with just a pinch of anger. If I appeared complacent, it’d be just as suspicious. It was a fine line to walk, but shock thickened the path. “It will be as you say,” I replied bitterly, turned on my heel, and did my best to look defeated. It wasn't that much of a deception.
Leaving the temple had my mind rushing for solutions. Even the wind swaying my hair felt a touch panicked. Escaping in broad daylight with six children sounded impossible, and I wouldn’t put it past the pure elder to have me watched until the evening ceremony.
We should go before midmeal. Everyone will be at the temple, and they’ll assume we’re running late, at least for a few precious minutes, the demon suggested.
I frowned at the idea, knowing it might be the best opportunity, but it didn’t leave me a lot of time to quietly gather the children. At least the orphan huts were all in one spot, which meant I didn’t have to go traipsing suspiciously all over the village. What excuse could I give if I was caught herding the small ones to the jungle?
A scream pierced the walls of one of the pure mother’s houses, startling my already upset body. It sounded like it had come from Gerlind’s home. When murmuring and shouting followed her cry, I had to assume she’d gone into labor. My heart sank, knowing I wouldn’t be around to comfort her after she lost this child.
As I neared my hut, anxious and distressed, footsteps swished through the weeds from behind me. I whirled and scowled to find Mehr following. What did he want? I certainly did not want to talk to him! I rushed to enter my home, but he grabbed my arm. I stared up at him to find his calm face flushed and his eyes dilated more than what the purity wrought.
“Don’t touch me!” I hissed, yanking my wrist out of his grip. “You betrayed me! I trusted you!” I bared my teeth in fury, seething from the depths of my soul.
Mehr raised his hands in bland supplication. “Forgive me, Niusha,” he said with a shrug. “I would have done it if you’d been mothered to someone else.”
“You were supposed to do it, period!” I retorted furiously, trying not to shriek and attract attention.
“Isn’t it better to be mothered to someone you like?” he drawled, stepping closer to me.
“I don’t like liars!” Well, I didn’t like people who lied with bad intentions. I took a step back, not liking the eager gleam in his eyes. How had I not seen it?
“You hear the screaming and yelling all the time. I think you’ll forgive me once you realize I won’t abuse you like the others do,” he articulated slowly, like I was misunderstanding and overreacting.
“So you won’t touch me tonight?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. My hand drifted to the wrist he’d grabbed.
He laughed and shook his head. “No. I plan on touching every inch of you.” He raised his hand and brushed his knuckles over the rise of my right breast. “I’ve wanted you for so many years.”
I hadn’t expected him to ever get that close to me. Cold, repulsive electricity had me recoiling just as he cupped my breast through my clothes. Every inch of me prickled with violation, and though my mind threatened to freeze on me, I had enough sense to slap away his hand. The violent act spurred my outrage. I couldn’t believe he’d touched me!
“How dare you? You had no right!” I hissed shrilly, trying not to scream at him.
I reached for the doorknob with a shaking hand, but he pulled me back and planted his lips on mine. Never would I have expected Mehr to force my first kiss upon me. I grimaced in disgust, stretched my lips flat, and turned my head away to escape his cold kiss. His hand found my breast again, squeezed it, then released me. My last shove against him—suddenly met with no resistance—threw me into the door. Stunned and almost blind with fury, I swung my fist at him, but he retreated enough to make me miss.
He laughed lazily as he retreated, unbothered by my fuming. “I’ll see you tonight, Nini,” he called with a grin and sent me a friendly wave, as if he’d done nothing wrong. “Don’t be so upset. You’ll come around. Remember, we’re friends, right?”
I didn’t watch him leave. I could not live a second longer with his spit on my skin. Horror-struck, I ducked into my hut, slammed the door, and rubbed feverishly at my mouth, trying to get every part of him off me. Tears blurred my vision as I grabbed some soap and washed my lips, but I worried I wouldn’t have enough soap in the world to make him go away. When bitter suds found their way into my mouth, I gagged and leaned over the basin, now at risk of vomiting. A tiny sob escaped along with the tears trickling down my face, but I bit back the rest that bubbled up into my throat. I had to get control over myself. I didn’t have time for this!
“Nini?” Tahmina inquired, and I jerked my gaze over to find her sitting up in bed with a scared frown. “What’s wrong, Nini? I heard Mehr out there, but I didn’t understand what the fight was about.”
Oh no, what should I say? I swallowed hard, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. My body trembled uncontrollably, and my nerves sat on the precipice of panic, but I couldn’t allow my brain to remain stunned like this. I almost felt like I’d imbibed an entire bowl of the purity. I hadn’t felt this weak in a long time.
“I… I was mad that… Uh, he told me that a pure father predicted a storm in a couple nights, which will ruin our secret surprise trip! We have to leave today if we’re to go at all. The rain’s supposed to last over a week!” I lied, praying that Tahmina wouldn’t parade around telling everyone about the looming change in weather. “I was mad because I was the last one to find out. Then the fight turned into something else... but it’s not important,” I finished with a wavering smile and the wave of a hand. Oh, I was crumbling. I was crumbling hard.
Amazingly, Tahmina’s face lit up, and she stood to jump on her sleeping pallet. “Yes, yes, yes! When are we going, Nini?” she cried, clapping in delight.
“Hush, hush,” I cautioned, making her eyes go wide, and she clamped her hands over her mouth. “We’ll leave right before lunch because… I’m taking us on a picnic first!”
“Do the others know? Can I tell them? Please, please, please?” she squealed quietly, placing her fists over her grin and displaying a gap left by a recently departed baby tooth.
It’s less suspicious than you running around gathering them, the demon mused. Risky, though, if they get too excited and someone overhears.
I wished I could reply, but I couldn’t in front of Tahmina. I sighed, ran my fingers through my hair, and said, “Ok, but remember that it’s a secret! Only the young orphans know so we can surprise the adults who took us into their homes. You want to bring them back little unexpected treasures to show your gratitude, yes? They’ve done so much for us.”
“Yes, yes, yes! I’ll be so careful! I’ll tell them to be here before the mid-meal bell!” she squeaked happily and skipped out of the hut. I winced and rested my face in my palms, needing a moment to just breathe. Oh, I was taking such a huge risk.
Knowing the risk still needed taking, I solidified my resolve, changed clothes, checked the bags to make sure everything was packed, and hid them once more. The only thing I removed from my bag was the dinner knife I’d stolen ages ago, and I placed it on the small table next to my bed. All I had to do was wait for the young ones.
I wrapped my arms around myself and shuddered. Now that I was alone with my thoughts, I kept feeling Mehr’s hands and lips on me. Cold lips. Not even the knife next to me was a comfort. What would I even do with it? Would a knife even scare a man?
No, no, I couldn’t be alone right now. Maybe I should check on Gerlind. I still had some time.
Hoping that Mehr wasn’t nearby, I left the hut and walked quietly to Gerlind’s house. This would be her third attempt to deliver a living child, and I couldn’t imagine what must be going through her mind—what she must be feeling. It seemed so painful, so pointless, to be a pure mother, doomed to suffer hours of agony just to bring a corpse into the world. Usually, I stayed away from the delivering pure mothers to give them space in their grief, but I desperately needed a distraction. There’d be no harm in lingering nearby, right? I could pray for Gerlind, her pure father, and her stillborn from a distance.
I didn’t pray with the village’s religion anymore, but rather my own. I prayed to the sun that warmed my skin, the stars that told me where I was, and the moon that made the night paths glow. I prayed to the earth beneath my feet as well, thanking them for nourishing the crops that we used to feed the other orphans.
Hours passed, and as it drew close to mid-meal, I drooped in my prayer, saddened that I might have to leave before Gerlind delivered. Before I could get to my feet, however, her cries stopped and were followed by relieved noises. I perked up and peeked into a side window, spying a pure mother walking away from a crying Gerlind, carrying a bloody… creature. I blanched at the wretched sight. I’d never seen a baby before, but that couldn’t possibly be a baby… could it? It had tiny humanlike hands and feet, humanlike puffy legs, and a humanlike belly. It might be a small person, but it was horribly ugly, wrinkly. Was this why all our babies died? Were they all deformed? It certainly didn’t look like a small version of Tahmina; that was a certainty.
Curious, I followed the pure mother’s march into another room where she ended up slapping the dead thing. When it started screaming and crying, I nearly fell dead myself. What was happening? What was I witnessing? I glanced over into the other room to find the pure father attempting to comfort Gerlind.
“You know how it is,” he said to his sobbing Gerlind, putting his hands over her ears with a pained expression. “Don’t listen to her soul leaving her body.”
I frowned and ducked over to see what the pure mother was doing to the deformed baby. It was dead? It certainly didn’t look dead. Its limbs jerked as it wailed, reminding me of one of Tahmina’s tantrums. Continuing as if she wasn’t handling a dead body, the pure mother cleaned the baby, wrapped a cloth around its bottom, and placed it in a padded case. It was still screaming.
Why would they put a diaper on a dead child? the demon asked, sounding as befuddled as I felt. I dropped under the window with my back to the wall and chewed on a nail while I thought about it. We were either matched with a spouse or made to disappear. Maybe they took all the babies to the same place the missing adult orphans went?
They were stealing children. Sure, they were deformed… but perhaps they thought they were possessed by demons? It certainly wasn’t their fault they were ugly. I wasn’t deformed, and I had a demon inside of me. I placed a hand to my forehead and swept it over my head, making a disheveled mess of my hair.
Deeply confused and unsettled, I pondered to myself, If I told Gerlind about the baby being alive, would they let her keep it?
Not likely, the demon said, reading my mind, which always startled me. It’d been getting better at that lately. It would raise too many questions about the other babies.
The more I thought about the strange infant, the more panic seeped into my chest. Then the bell signifying the mid-meal hour tolled, and I gasped. I was late! With a reluctant heart, I snuck away from poor Gerlind’s house and hurried to my hut to find six orphans sitting in a circle, passing a ball of yarn back and forth. They looked up at me with grinning faces and put their fingers to their lips, except for Jam, whose finger was currently up one of his nostrils.
“Gross!” Anaitis exclaimed, wrinkling her freckled nose. Sam slapped his twin’s arm, who withdrew his digit with a sigh that sounded far too world-weary for someone his age. I glanced at them all while checking for adults in my peripheral vision, but I didn’t notice anyone else. I stepped into the hut that I’d never call home again and handed the backpacks to the children.
“Run on down to the edge of the jungle and wait for me! Stay together and don’t let anyone see you! Remember we’re on a top secret mission!” I grinned and tickled Fulco’s side. He doubled over, giggling and squirming away from me. It was so hard to smile right now. My stomach twisted into knots, my heart pounded, and a lump in my throat fought to keep me from swallowing.
The children ran off to the jungle. The eldest, Gerhard, was barely ten years old, and the youngest, Anaitis, was only six. I squeezed my nervous, clammy hands together, attempting to warm them as I fumbled over the hardest decision yet. I didn’t know how to take care of a baby; the youngest orphans I’d ever met were out of diapers and fairly competent.
Wherever that infant is going cannot be good if they’re faking its death, the demon pointed out with distaste.
“How odd for a demon to care about a baby’s fate,” I whispered to it. “You truly surprise me.”
Maybe demons have babies too? I don’t know any more about it than you.
I stared at my backpack and set my brows. If I was going to do this, I might as well be thorough about it. I placed the backpack at the door and walked calmly to Gerlind’s home. When I peeked through the windows, I found the other pure mothers hovering over the poor woman.
“Why do they keep dying?” she wailed. Her face was as red, scrunched, and swollen as what she’d birthed not that long ago. It broke my heart to see her in such a state.
“You’ll try again, Gerlind. You must pray harder this time. You can’t give up. We’re fighting the good fight, you know,” a pure mother urged, patting her hand.
I scowled and snuck to the back door, opening it quietly to steal the wicker case housing the infant. I slipped out, holding the case as still as possible, but worried over its silence. The baby was quiet now; maybe it had died after all. I didn’t open the case until I got to the hut, and when I did, I discovered that the baby was merely asleep. It was definitely breathing.
“Oh, you’re still alive!” I nearly fell to my knees in relief. With renewed purpose, I threw my backpack on and left to find the children in the jungle, praying that the small bundle would stay quiet.
“Niusha?” someone called in the distance, and lightning crackled through my skin. I walked faster, assuming I hadn’t been spotted yet. I couldn’t look behind me.
“Niusha? Niusha?” That was Mehr’s voice now, which was closer. I must be missed. My swishing skirts suddenly sounded too loud as I rushed down the hill toward the dense underbrush and vine-covered trees. Thick roots and loose dirt threatened to send me tumbling with every nervous step.
I cringed as more people from the village began calling my name, but as soon as I stepped into the overgrown, steep decline of the jungle’s entrance, I put on a broad smile for the waiting orphans. We were out of sight but we had to keep moving.
“Are you all ready?” I asked in an excited whisper, and the little orphans nodded, barely able to contain their squeals. “Let’s go find some treasure then! We’ll eat in a little bit, I promise!”
They lined up to follow me, giggling quietly like they’d gotten into sugarcane juice. I was glad they were behind me; it meant they couldn’t see the terror I was trying to fight off my face.
