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Back Rapture
Chapters (55)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. 1.
  5. 2.
  6. 3.
  7. 4.
  8. 5.
  9. 6.
  10. 7.
  11. 8.
  12. 9.
  13. 10.
  14. 11.
  15. 12.
  16. 13.
  17. 14.
  18. 15.
  19. 16.
  20. 17.
  21. 18.
  22. 19.
  23. 20.
  24. 21.
  25. 22.
  26. 23.
  27. 24.
  28. 25.
  29. 26.
  30. 27.
  31. 28.
  32. 29.
  33. 30.
  34. 31.
  35. 32.
  36. 33.
  37. 34.
  38. 35.
  39. 36.
  40. 37.
  41. 38.
  42. 39.
  43. 40.
  44. 41.
  45. 42.
  46. 43.
  47. 44.
  48. 45.
  49. 46.
  50. 47.
  51. 48.
  52. 49.
  53. 50.
  54. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  55. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

“It is not the shouting that God cares for,” her mother told her. “He rewards the obedient, the pious, the meek. What meek woman has the pride to speak directly to God? That is not our place. It is Mhari who will carry our prayers to Him. Mhari who protects us.”

Inaya placed her fingers on the worn base of the idol, and peered into the inscrutable face. Her personal prayers were too private to say aloud, not here, not anywhere. But she knew Mhari would hear them. Knew they would find their way to God’s ear, even if He didn’t answer. He never answered.

Behind her, she heard Michel’s familiar shuffling walk. She rose, but did not turn. He moved within a pace of her, then stopped.

“Mhari,” he murmured. “Not the most inconspicuous place to meet.”

“It’s no fault of mine that you are not a woman.”

“Mhari is the saint of martyrs and victims,” he said. “That is not what we are.”

“Mhari is the saint of women.”

“As I said. Isn’t it time we embrace our true power?”

Inaya watched the flickering light of the bugs in glass above them playing off Mhari’s smooth, featureless face. Inaya wanted to see her weep blood, or morph into some base beetle. They were the sort of tangible miracles that could give her hope that some tiny portion of her time spent here was not time spent simply speaking to herself. The times she knew God, when she felt closest to Him, were when she shifted, when she gave in to her body’s deep need to cut loose, cut free, slough off her skin and become something else, something more, everything. A piece of everything. Did God feel like that? she wondered. Was that why she felt so close to Him then? All the more reason they hate us, Inaya thought. We know more of God than his priests.

“Did you find her?” Inaya asked.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“She went to Nasheen. I followed her across the border, and to the boy. She chose to stay with him.”

Inaya’s chest tightened. “In Nasheen?”

“Yes.”

“You permitted her to do that?”

“I could not persuade her to return. I told you there was a danger in putting them together. Young love—”