Danger Dead Ahead

Eight

Words weren't enough to explain how Maalik felt as he watched Rustam disappear into the night. His warning had been as confusing as Reshma's. The only thing Maalik realized was that the murders might be related to the Kalash. A thought that hadn't occurred to him prior to meeting Rustam. But now that it was there, he couldn't stop thinking about it.

Reshma might be from a Kalash tribe, but she chose to live away from her people. He should've paid more attention to that little but significant fact.

"What are you thinking about?" Jahan interrupted his musings.

"It's strange," he said, looking at her without seeing because his mind wasn't fully there. "I just realized why people treat Reshma differently. She isn't one of us."

"Excuse me?"

"She's Kalasha," he shrugged, "And yet, she lives among us—the outsiders."

"I don't understand. Kalash are indigenous to Chitral, but so are your people. No?"

"Yes and no." When she gave him a confused look, he said, "We are all Chitrali, but their connection to this region goes farther back in history than us. Maybe even to prehistoric times. everything appears perfect on the surface, but I'm sure you can understand all the ways minorities might feel threatened. The Kalash people have lived in remote valleys and don't like cohabitating with neighboring communities. Their culture, religion, language, and traditions set them apart from us. These are the hard facts."

"Okay, so for Reshma to live away from her people means something?" she posed the statement as a question.

It was the same one he had asked himself. Everything Rustam told them suggested there was a deeper reason for his Aunt to live in these specific woods. He couldn't get Rustam's parting statement out of his head. Promises made in the moonlight must be kept. Why did it sound so familiar?

"Yes, she's here for a reason," he said firmly. His voice held the surety he didn't feel. "I don't know what it has to do with the murders, but I have a gut feeling she knows more than anyone else."

"I don't know why," Jahan said, "but I don't think she's the killer."

"Why?"

"It's just a feeling, but she doesn't seem like a violent person—quite the contrary. If anything, I'd say she's a pacifist. And now, thinking back, I don't even know why I was scared of her. Maybe your fear rubbed off on me."

He considered her words and realized they made sense. His fear of the woman was fueled by the local rumors and the deep-rooted superstition when in reality Reshma could only be accused of being overly dramatic. Eccentricity was her only flaw.

"I think we should talk to her," Jahan said.

"Now?" His eyes bulged in disbelief. She might be over her fear but he wasn't there yet.

"Don't look so horrified," she gave him a disgusted glance. "We can go in the morning or maybe I can visit her alone while you head back to the town."

"I know the way. It's no big deal. I can return the next day or call someone to pick me up."

He didn't say anything because he had no right to protest. But that didn't mean he liked the idea. Especially, if Rustam was still around, he didn't want to leave Jahan alone with those two mysterious people. Reshma might not be a direct threat to any of them, but her nephew was a wild card. What did they even know about him? Who's to say he was even related to Reshma? They only had his words on the matter. What if the man lied about it and everything else?

The night went by in restlessness. Long after Jahan turned in, he stayed by the campfire and dreaded the sunrise. Thinking about the past, present, and future, he couldn't sleep. The nagging feeling that he missed something crucial stayed with him all night.