I’d seen it happen already once today. After evening prayers, where the entire camp had gathered around Noorsham to be blessed by the same hands he’d used to burn people alive. Then his disciples had lined up in front of him eagerly. We looked on curiously from the side as two of his disciples appeared, hauling two huge sacks that they set down next to him. I watched as he reached inside the first and pulled out a loaf of fresh-looking bread and handed it to the first person. They moved aside quickly. I didn’t realise how hungry I was until we saw the food. The next person shuffled along; the man after him got another identical loaf. A little girl stepped up next, hands extended eagerly. But before Noorsham could feed her, the woman behind her spoke up loudly.

‘She wasn’t at prayers today.’

Noorsham drew away from the little girl as sharply as if she were a snake. ‘Mira, is this true?’ It sounded more like an accusation than a question. The little girl went silent. ‘Tell me the truth, Mira,’ he was saying. ‘I’ll know if you lie.’

‘I lost track of the sun,’ she admitted finally.

As he raised his hand towards her I was suddenly worried I was about to see the little girl burn alive. I started to draw forwards, and I could feel Jin shifting next to me, too, neither of us sure what we were going to do. But he only rested a hand on her cheek. ‘If you want to eat in the morning, you will join us at worship instead of playing in the mountains.’ The girl was pushed out of the line without food.

Noorsham saw me watching him. I’d taken a step forwards without realising it. He reached into the bag and held out his closed hands towards me. I didn’t move straightaway, but Noorsham didn’t move on. Didn’t turn back to the woman who had sold out young Mira and was shifting restlessly. Waiting to reclaim her leader’s attention. Finally I extended my hands towards my brother. And he dropped an orange in my palms.

I stared at it, disbelieving, even as Noorsham’s attention shifted back to the disciples in his line. I hadn’t seen a fresh orange for the first sixteen years of my life. Not until I got to the rebel camp, far from this dusty dead-earthed part of the desert where nothing could grow. Fruit around these parts came stewed in cans so that it could survive the long desert journey to us.

It was impossible that I was holding a fresh orange. Except it was real. When I peeled it, the rind caked under my fingernails, and the intoxicating smell of fresh citrus filled the dusty desert air. And there was no mistaking the burst of sweet flavour when I ate it.

It was unsettling. Out of place. The whole thing, this whole camp. It worried me in a way I couldn’t wholly put my finger on.

I turned over restlessly in my bedroll. I hated being alone with my thoughts. They churned through my head like a desert storm, dust scattering every which way, too quick to catch. I needed to talk to Jin. I didn’t care that it was against whatever rules they seemed to have here. I slipped out of my bedroll as quietly as I could, casting around to make sure there were no wakeful eyes watching me sneak away as I wove my way through the rest of the bodies of sleeping women.

I was almost out when a flicker of light above us caught my eye. I stopped, ducking quickly so I was low to the ground. Too low for the light to find me among the rocks and sleeping bodies. And I waited, for whatever night-time patrol this was to pass.

A few moments later, Noorsham appeared above me on the slope. He was moving through the dark by a dim light emanating from his hands, a dulled version of his destructive power. He was walking a few paces above me.

I hesitated. Of all the people to get caught by, Noorsham would be the worst, that was for damn sure. I ought to go back, lie down, close my eyes, pretend to be asleep until dawn and then we could all leave in the morning with no one getting turned to ashes. But I already knew I wasn’t fooling myself, pretending I might do the smart thing for once in my life. I waited a few heartbeats, until he was a safe distance ahead of me, and then I moved to follow him.

He led me past the edge of his makeshift civilisation, to where the ground started to slope upwards above the camp. I moved as gingerly as I could, careful to stay far out of the circle of light cast by his hands, trying to remember where to step on the uneven ground by watching the light ahead of me as we climbed further and further up the mountain slope. Until, finally, we reached the entrance to the mines. Noorsham pressed forwards without hesitating, entering the dark mouth of the mountains, his hands spilling a sea of light across the rough stone walls.

I hesitated where I was crouched just below him on the slope, moving on all fours to avoid sliding rocks that would give me away. If I entered that tunnel, there was nowhere to hide.

But I’d come this far.

I moved up the last few feet to the entrance, following him into the mountain.

Ahead of me, Noorsham moved with the confidence of someone who had taken this route a thousand times before. When the path forked, he took the left tunnel without hesitation. He passed the debris abandoned by miners without so much as glancing down. He did not slow when we wove through places where the mountain had collapsed into hideous charred and melted rock. A result of the moment he had unleashed his power inside this mountain, killing most of the people in it.

We were deep into the old mines when he turned right and walked through what looked like a solid wall. I stopped sharply behind him as he vanished, then quickly rushed forwards, already afraid of losing him. As I got closer I realised it wasn’t solid rock. It was a tiny side passage in the mountain, so much narrower than the tunnels made by man, I likely would’ve mistaken it for a fissure in the rocks if I was walking by. The light of Noorsham’s hands was still just leaking out around my feet. If I waited any longer I would lose it. I would be left alone in the dark.