THE MONSTER WITHIN

Mzaa rushed out ahead of her daughters and Sabra, leading them into the night. Hadhi could not help a glance back at the lights of the palace. She rather thought somewhere in there Noam was looking out, watching her go. It should not be such a pleasant suspicion, but the feeling that drifted through her was something akin to joy.

“A receiving line before noon, with every woman in Jaccada and the nearest villages! He must be mad! When you win the prince, Hadhi, you can cause such a stir yourself.” Mzaa was not looking Hadhi’s way, nor were her words a compliment. Mzaa believed in visualizing the future you wanted.

To her left, Sabra caught Hadhi’s eye and rolled her own sympathetically as she rubbed a hand over her sleeping son’s back. They had ridden to the palace on camels, but their uncle took them back when he left the ball, now they were practically running home, on foot. Lin was unlikely to stay asleep long. He was such a sweet babe, calm and happy. Sometimes Hadhi looked at him and wondered if she had been like that as a child. Was evil something one was born with? Or did it grow over the years? She longed to reach out, take her brother into her arms and wrap him up in a magic blanket so he would never change.

“I still can’t believe you were so bold,” Mzaa’s voice cut into Hadhi’s consciousness, startling her. Had she been talking all this time? “What possessed you to walk away from the prince without him dismissing you first?”

“I...” a handsome man, who told me not to smile and to be a mystery. “I am sorry Mzaa...”

“Sorry?” Mzaa stopped so suddenly Nuru bumped into her. When Mzaa was facing Hadhi, she reached out with a soft hand and raised her daughter’s chin, smiling beautifully. “It was brilliant! I knew one day you would come into your own. You should have seen them staring after you.”

“Especially Azize’s handsome friend, Noam.” Sabra’s voice held a playful smile, the kind she used to carry when she and Asha were friends. Back in the days when they would whisper sour-faced-Hadhi at her back and run away. Despite their past, Hadhi could not stop her hungry eyes from seeking affirmation that Noam had watched her.

She should not want to please a man she could never have, but she did. More than anyone, she wanted to please him. It was lively, chaotic, exci—

“He is nothing!” Mzaa yanked Hadhi’s chin her way. “The prince watched you, and the king. Your father would have been so proud. Do not spoil this as you do everything else.”

Hadhi felt all her excitement shrinking away under a wave of resentment and rage. With a jerking nod, she agreed so Mzaa would release her chin. Nuru was looking between her mother and Hadhi, her eyes tight and angry.

“Good.” Mzaa spun away and rushed forward. “Now we must hurry; there isn’t time. We must be the first people the prince sees tomorrow.”

“Would it not be better to be the last?” Sabra suggested. “So we are the most prominent in his mind when the ball begins?”

Oshid, ethee uvaasha, Hadhi silently begged. Kinnu zav py io ngzaatell: Please, great spirits, allow her to be swayed. Hadhi didn’t want to spend midday standing in the heat. If they went last, they could line up later. Such a line would take all day. There were at least five hundred women living near the capitol city it could take until well into the night to try a shoe on all of them.

“Ordinarily yes, but we cannot risk it.” Mzaa’s voice took on a low growl. “If I knew who that girl was, I would cast her into Ether and let the desert take care of her.”

No one spoke as Mzaa ranted about the girl spoiling Hadhi’s chance with the prince, all with a shoe. Hadhi sighed and looked beyond her mother towards the desert.

Maltuba sat at the edge of two worlds. Behind the capitol city, there was a lush jungle, so dense that while it provided two-thirds of Maltuba’s food, and water; it was completely uninhabitable. The animals were too many and too vicious, and the trees too old and intertwined. So Maltuba sat at its very edge, hunters went in regularly and the occasional adventurer, but none stayed long. Beyond Maltuba a road led to the southernmost edge of the continent, passing by many tribes unconnected with any nation on its way to the kingdom of Reethurn, and from there to the eastern side of the continent with its mountains and several other nations. The road was the only way out but by sea, because stretched out before Maltuba was the desert the continent was named for, Ether.

Vast dry dunes of sand took up one-third of the continent and were completely impassable. No one had crossed her and lived to tell. The ancient kings of Maltuba used the desert as the ultimate punishment, reserved for the lowest of their citizens. Criminals were dragged to the edge of the desert given one skin of water and ordered to walk. Entire tribes came to watch on the first day, and sentries were posted to be sure the criminals did not attempt to return for weeks after, though by that time, it was understood, the criminals were dead.

Those absorbed into Ether could never return. She was a hungry desert.

Though Hadhi was unremarkable and had not her father’s thirst for adventure, she gazed into the desert, searching for some sign. If it truly did lead to the next life, a place one was freed of their sins and burdens, was that not the kindest punishment a criminal could ever receive?

At night, it looked quite welcoming.

“But, Mzaa,” Nuru’s whine pulled Hadhi from her reverie. What was wrong with her? She could not focus. She did not even know what her sister was complaining about. “I’m so tired.”

“Blame that intruder. And be prepared for her tomorrow. You will not sleep; everything must be ready.”

“Can’t Asha do it?”

Hadhi was surprised to hear her little sister throw Asha to their viper mother. Nuru seemed to like Asha well enough.

“She must prepare as well,” Mzaa snarled. “And you Hadhi must put extra effort into being vivacious and catching the prince’s eye. Your half-sister will always outshine you in beauty and wit, but she need not surpass you in all ways. No man wants a sour-faced wife.”

Hadhi did not respond. The crawling, snarling beast of her anger could not be released now. It could not be released ever. It was a predator and Hadhi held her back by will alone, letting her consume anything inside herself so she would not strike out and destroy Hadhi’s entire family.

Their hut was just ahead. Before her father died, they lived in a large mansion, a short walk from the capitol palace. Uncle Kafil lived there now and had sent them to their father’s childhood home, and even Hadhi’s and Asha’s for a time. Hadhi did not care where they lived, the other house was lovely, but whether she was rich or poor, in a castle or the desert, she was only ever sour-faced-Hadhi. Except for a few moments, on the capitol terrace, with her hand cradled in Noam’s.

Hadhi was only disappointed that they had not spoken earlier in the evening. They could have had hours together. It was entirely unlike her to want such a thing. What could she even come up with to say, for hours? But she wanted it; she wanted to have enough interesting things in her head to fill hours with him or to learn the things he knew. Just to be with him. It would have been so peaceful. So new. Nothing like reality.

Asha was curled up before the fire outside the hut when they arrived. Lovely despite the smattering of ash across her face and laying on the ground. Until this moment, part of Hadhi had been worried for her. But Hadhi saw her sister, and Mzaa’s voice taunted her, devouring any caring. Your half-sister will always outshine you in beauty and wit. The monster within lunged, trying to lift Hadhi’s leg and kick Asha for being beautiful, and beloved, and oh so easy and happy.

“You will be my monster one day, Hadhi.” Baba chuckled. He’d watched silently as Asha and Sabra teased his eldest daughter, called her names, threw sour berries at her. Watched it all with a smile, but when they’d gone, then he turned to his eldest, saw the rage and resentment in her eyes and beamed. “You will decimate all before you, as your Baba does. This rage will feed you, and make you strong.”

Hadhi’s foot remained on the ground, and she swept around her sister towards the hut. Hating Asha, and Baba, and herself more every moment. She wished she were different. Wished she were like Noam.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Mzaa shouted, halting Hadhi. Mzaa ripped the blanket off her other daughter, startling Asha awake. “Every one of you will listen to me and listen well.”

Asha cowered against the stone hearth wide-eyed. Hadhi watched her falseness and wanted to kick her even more. Baba would kick a younger sibling who had the gall to sleep before him. So Hadhi’s foot remained on the floor.

“The prince is bewitched of some little invader,” Mzaa said for Asha’s benefit.

“The prince?” Asha asked, her wide eyes searching. Mzaa ignored.

“He has ordered a second ball, which every woman, regardless of age, station, or illness, will attend. I can do nothing about this woman.” Hadhi caught a small tickled smile, curving Asha’s lips, but it was gone before Mzaa glanced her way again. “But the king ordered every woman to try on her slipper, and all who fit it will compete for the prince. You,” her talon nailed Hadhi in place, “will fit that slipper. If it is too large, you will claw your toes into it. If it is too small, you will break your bones to fit them in. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Mzaa,” Hadhi said flatly, her resentment settling heavily around her, covering everything but her desire for sleep.

“You,” Mzaa turned her wrath on Asha, “will attend. You will be polite to the prince and not shame your father, is that understood?”

“Yes, Mzaa Jauhar.” Asha nodded once. But her eyes were still far and away, too active for Hadhi to ignore. She knew something.

“Sabra, you know your duty and have always performed it well. I trust if the opportunity arises, you will serve this family and your son once more.” Sabra nodded, with her hand over her son’s head as if Mzaa would devour the baby. Mzaa did seem particularly volatile tonight, but... Lin had Zuberi’s eyes. Mzaa would never harm him.

“As for you, Nuru.” Mzaa rolled her eyes, looking on her youngest daughter, now crouched next to the fire, with her head against the wall, half asleep. “The prince will never marry you, even if you fit the slipper.”

“So I may sleep!”

"No.”

“He will not think any of us lovely if we do not sleep.” Nuru pouted.

“Which is why it was so kind of you to volunteer to prepare your sister’s and your Mzaa Sabra’s gowns, so they may sleep.”

“But,” she stomped her foot, waving her arms about, “that isn’t fair. I did everything you asked me to.”

“And you will continue to do so. Sabra is a mother; she needs her rest. Asha, as you have been sleeping already, you will help Nuru. If you hurry, you may get a few hour’s rest. Sleep Hadhi,” Mzaa tossed off with a dissatisfied scowl. “Your looks need all the help they can get.”

Hadhi swept into the hut, enraged. Usually, she would offer to help Nuru. Not Asha, but it was nothing she did not deserve, was it? But just now, she was so angry she could not speak without her words killing someone. She raced down the stairs to her shared room and threw herself onto the bed in the dark. The beads at her throat dug into her like angry pebbles, but she was too frustrated to move. If only she were someone other than herself. Someone beautiful and lovable. It was probably for the best that she spent so little time with Noam. If they had more time he would have found reason to revile her as the rest of the world did.

“Hadhi?” Nuru came into the room with a lantern, her voice petulant. Hadhi did not respond. “Mzaa said I must help you change, so you do not spoil the fabric.”

“Why does that matter? No fabric can make me beautiful.”

“She doesn’t mean it, Hadhi,” Nuru said sympathetically and sat on the edge of her sister’s bed. “She is only anxious. If Uncle Kafil never releases our dowries, we will be stuck here forever.”

“There are worse places.”

“Everyone loved what you did with my hair.” Nuru coaxed, breaking the silence that had followed Hadhi’s remark, trying to soothe her.

Hadhi opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out, and she felt tears building.

“Neema suggested that Eshe might accept such a service in place of an offering,” Nuru went on hopefully.

I will offer. Hadhi thought, but could not force words past the burning fist of tears in her throat.

When Hadhi continued to lay silent Nuru nudged her. “Sit up, she’ll yell at me if you tear it.”

Rolling her eyes, Hadhi sat up.

“Why are you so angry?” Nuru asked quietly as she began untying the beads that held up the dress. “Mzaa always says such, and it never bothers you.”

There was only anger inside her. How did Nuru not see that? How was Hadhi meant to sort through why tonight was different in such a way that her sister would understand? She could not tell her about Noam, about that brief time when she felt like someone other than sour-faced-Hadhi. She could not explain how that smile on Asha’s lips had reminded her, of all the differences between them, of how the world would always love Asha and hate Hadhi. Of how Asha would surely be loved by Noam, exposing his moments of kindness with Hadhi for what they surely were: pity. That smile reminded Hadhi of how Asha could hide, or lie, or get away with anything. But Hadhi— If she revealed her secret, she would be despised.

The dress slid away, and Nuru handed her sister a thin slip to pull on. Nuru left the room without her answer, pouting and glaring.

“You will be my monster, Hadhi. My legacy.”

“But, you love Asha best.”

He laughed so loud then, as though the idea that being his legacy meant loving Hadhi was ludicrous. She felt desperate and lonely inside. Ugly. “Hadhi, you are my own image. A monster of rage and destruction. Asha is my joy, my best beloved. She could never be my monster; she has no darkness in her. No, Hadhi, you will be my monster, and the world will never forget my power.”

Hadhi rolled onto her side and cried silently into the pillow. She would not be his monster. She refused, now or ever, to do anything that would bring him joy.