East of the Sun and West of the Moon

I'm scared and I want to go home. I haven't really been able to talk to Callista and Mercuria since Mercuria's uncle was killed in Calcutta because I don't know what to say to them and I don't think they know what to say to me either. Anyhow, they're worried about their friend Kat Loveday and about Dio Starn. Camille is sitting with Claudia Warrington and Cori Walsingham and those awful girls...

So I came over here where Rajinder is, and I'm sitting with him, and I'm trying to follow what Theo Abbott and Fia Kyteler and Jack Oldman are doing but I can't make the numbers stay in my head. They went to that thing this afternoon with the Armorican professor and now all they can talk about is codes and ciphers.

I wrote to Surya. I don't think Rajinder has yet. Rajinder says Viresh is outside and we can go home with him. I don't know if I want to stay with Viresh though. It isn't proper, especially not since there is another man living with him (which makes even Rajinder uncomfortable). But I don't know if Surya even knows about this. And even if we were allowed to go outside, we couldn't interrupt what Viresh is doing to ask him about it.

I wanted to come here. I wanted to learn things they don’t teach us at home. I wanted to see the world. I keep telling myself this. As I have since the first girl died.

This place is full of evil things, and Rajinder tells me not to be superstitious, but what can he say, now that we’ve seen what happened this morning? I miss Bala. I miss our mother. I miss food that I know is halal, and I miss feeling safe.

I should write to Surya. I don’t really want to stay here for the holidays; I want to go home. But I know that I won’t be allowed to go home. Because of the war, it’s too dangerous travelling, especially not since we have some relatives here. I suppose they’re the cousins from Chennai. My father came from there. Viresh doesn’t have a religion anyway. Like Rajinder, he wants to be British, even if they won’t admit it. They say they want to fight the British, but the Britishness is inside of them. Wanting to fight them, they’ve become like the thing they want to fight. I’m not sure how this works…but I don’t want it to happen to me.

I didn’t know the girls who died. They were all older than me. Mercuria understood that language they were speaking. She says it’s the language of angels. And devils, who were once angels themselves. Mercuria and her brother are strange, sometimes. I don’t want to be afraid of them. But all I can do, these days, is study and pray.

I don’t normally get up while it is still dark, but I still find myself waking and dozing at odd hours. It feels like it should be night in the morning and morning at night. This is the other side of the world.

I am having so much trouble writing my letter home to our mother. Why did Rajinder tell me so many things I can’t say to our parents? It’s bad enough having to write to her and let her think I am doing everything that she would want me to do when I don’t even wear my scarf outside the dormitory here and there is no signal to tell me when it is time to pray. And our cousin Viresh, I can’t say anything about him! How am I supposed to decide if it is proper for me to stay in his house if I can’t ask our parents? The answer is, of course, that it is not, but they want me to do it anyway. I don’t want to tell on Rajinder, but he’s put me in a terrible position. I’m sure there is someone else they want us to stay with over the holidays, but I don’t know who.

I just want Bala back. I think if I could hear him chatter and he could jump up on my shoulder, I could tell him my problem, and I’d know what to do. That’s very silly, I know, but he knows more about some things than most of my roommates do.

Mercuria Casaubon and Camille DeVries are quite probably the two messiest people I have ever met in my life. Camille especially; at least Mercuria puts her clothing away, if not her books. She probably has servants at home, but so do I, and I wasn’t allowed to make messes like that! She’s worse than a monkey!

I miss Bala! My parents wouldn’t let me bring him to school, but there are people here with cats and dogs and birds—even dangerous birds like owls and falcons. Not to mention rats, ferrets and even a wolf! I’m sure a monkey wouldn’t cause any trouble. Why didn’t Raj stand up for me? He just doesn’t like Bala, but I’m not even in Caerleon so he wouldn’t have to see much of him.

I’m going to write home today, but it probably won’t do any good. I’m not sure how they would send Bala to me here—he wouldn’t like to be in his basket that long, and the British have their gates, but they probably wouldn’t let us use them for just a monkey. But maybe my mother will think of something.