I RAISE MY HEAD. Kezi?
It happens so quickly. I die and become a warki in a second. Wadir must have winged steeds just as Enshi Rock does, although this one is gray and ours are white. I roll over, straddle the horse, and circle Kezi’s waist with my arms. I lean into her shoulders and breathe her in. Cinnamon, yes, but also mold and sadness. Is she sad to be dead? Is she sad I’ve come?