by J F Mehentee
Biyu shrugged off her coat, tugged off her boots and then unbuckled her belt. All around us, the Leyakians’ arms rose as they adjusted their aim and Biyu trebled in size. Pak’s jaw fell open.
Biyu sniffed the puzzle’s corner, her movements limited by the tightness of her ill-fitting shirt and trousers. She’d forgotten to remove her socks, which had come away at the heel and only covered her toes.
The magnet’s just large enough to attract the ball bearing, she said. I smell magic. It isn’t the good kind. If the ball bearing moves but doesn’t come loose, I’ll bet whoever’s touching the puzzle gets fried.
Biyu had confirmed the puzzle’s locking mechanism. The box was a stone version of my father’s wooden puzzle that had contained a ring: his anniversary gift to my mother. Before I’d lost it, the puzzle box was one of the few keepsakes I had left to remind me of them.
Biyu thumped the corner. Several of the Leyakians and Pak ducked.
The ball bearing thudded into what I imagined was a trough beneath it. Biyu’s outline darkened and shimmered as she returned to her humanoid size.
Pak now stood with his hands behind his back and his feet apart.
‘Have you unlocked it?’ he said.
If I’d activated dark magic, I wasn’t about to let Biyu find out. I leaned against the corner. Before Biyu could protest, I pushed.
As if it were on grease, the top half of the box slid halfway. I would have fallen into it if Biyu hadn’t caught the hood of my parka and throttled me.
‘Thanks,’ I said to her, upright again and rubbing my throat.
‘Help him,’ Pak ordered the Leyakians.
Two of the soldiers holstered their pistols and continued to push. Before me, a giant ball bearing, about twelve inches in diameter, lay in a pocket of rock. Scarlet wards shone from its surface. They flared for a second and then faded to black.
With three-quarters of the box’s upper half no longer supported, its farthest corner landed on the floor.
Look, Biyu said, wonder in her voice.
An egg, equivalent in size to a man’s head and its shell not white but drab, lay in the centre of the box.
‘Bring it to me, Sanjay.’
Still with his hands behind his back, and now his chin raised, Pak looked as if he was waiting to receive a medal.
Again, I sensed pistol barrels aimed at me. I wasn’t jealous of the supervisor anymore. I just hated him, which helped me remain standing. Pak was arrogant but not stupid: stepping into the box might be as dangerous as trying to open it with the lock intact.
Let me help you, Biyu said. She wrapped an arm around my waist.
My exhaustion made it impossible to pull away. I didn’t want her getting hurt if anything happened to me, but neither could I climb into the box without falling in.
With a nod and a smile, I stepped into the box. My legs steady, I told Biyu she could let go. I edged forward, trying to discern any magic emanating from the egg.
Smell anything? I said.
Nothing, Biyu replied. What I’d smelt earlier has gone.
Relieved, I squatted, reached out and then hesitated. An image of the anzu’s skeleton lying over the hole in the tunnel flashed before me.
I had to swallow and bite my cheeks again.
Yahata wasn’t the only trickster, I said. I think his pet anzu was one, too. I leaned forward and slid my hands beneath the egg. Yahata didn’t make this box. I think it was his anzu—if an anzu is capable of such a thing.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Biyu approach the box.
What are you going on about, Sanjay? Talk some sense.
The weight of the egg I carried almost defeated me. It also confirmed my suspicion.
Help me with this. I can’t lift it and walk at the same time.
Biyu climbed into the box, and in two paces took the egg from me.
The anzu, outside, before it died, covered the hole it had made. There is no egg. It made what you’re holding from sand and rock. The legend was a trick, one last joke before the anzu died.
‘Give it to me,’ Pak said, his arms outstretched as if the egg had always belonged to him.
I settled down inside the box and rested against its wall. It gave me a view of Pak and the throne. Biyu passed the egg over to her former supervisor. She remained in the box and stood alongside me.
I sat up when Pak received the egg and smiled at her. His smile was too familiar for my liking.
Pak stepped away from the box. He held the egg and gazed upon it as if it were an infant. If I weren’t so tired, I would have giggled.
‘Thank you, Biyu.’ Pak saluted me with a shallow bow. ‘And thank you, Sanjay.’
Again, he stared at the egg as if he’d sired it. Oh Khuda, how I wanted to laugh. Did he really think an anzu would hatch out of it, imprint on him and obey his every command?
‘I must admit,’ Pak said, his eyes never leaving his prize, ‘I envy you both for how you found in a day what’s taken me years of searching.’ He shook his head. ‘As a purist, the methods I’ve used to locate relics have always had to pass muster with my academic peers and superiors. But you two don’t have to live by those rules.’ His gaze fell on Biyu and then me. ‘That’s why I want you to join me. Imagine what we’d find and the glorious magic we’d return to the world.’ He nodded at Biyu. ‘I know of several sources that might contain a counter spell to reverse your condition.’
I tried to push myself up when I saw Biyu lift her arms and fold them. With his assistance and the Leyakian’s resources, we could find a solution sooner than later.
Biyu, I said. Hear him out.
‘You selfish, arrogant pig,’ she said. ‘Where were you after the accident? Why didn’t you come to the practice like everyone else?’ She edged forward, the box preventing further progress. Pak retreated a step. She jabbed a finger in his direction.
The temperature in the cave had risen, making me want to take off my parka.
‘I’ll tell you why you never visited,’ Biyu continued. ‘I embarrassed you—I made you look bad. And now you want to help me?’ She shook her head. ‘I admired you, Yeong-tae, as an academic and as my mentor. I adored you. But you didn’t care. I was just another postgraduate who could further your career. If you think you can help me, why the frit wait until now to say so?’
The cave had got warmer. Sweat gleamed on the Leyakians’ chins. No doubt, they felt the heat under their visors and armour.
‘Answer me, Pak,’ Biyu said. She had folded her arms again.
Biyu’s trouser legs crumpled, and my eyes widened. Her feet hovered above the box’s base. Whether qi or anger fuelled the imminent transformation, like her, I needed to make myself as small as possible before the bullets flew.
Biyu, I said as I hunkered deeper into the box. Don’t do it. You’ll get hurt. Join Pak. Help him until he shows you how to reverse what happened.
I didn’t believe my own words. Pak was out for himself. When we stopped being of use to him, he’d cast us aside like he did his students. Regardless, I couldn’t refuse the opportunity of finding Biyu a cure.
The air surrounding her darkened and shimmered. Her shirt and then her trousers collapsed into themselves. The air cooled for a moment. Water vapour clouded my breath. A blur of movement shot up and out of her shirt collar. Above me, a serpent straightened and lengthened. In seconds, its body ballooned. Black scales absorbed the light until all I saw were red fiery eyes. I ducked when I heard Biyu’s roar.
All the Leyakians fired. Some began to scream.
The air burned until it became painful to breathe. I screwed my eyes shut and passed out.
Someone shook me awake. In place of ammoniacal smelling salts, ash irritated my nostrils and dried my tongue. My clothes clung to my skin as if I’d taken a bath in them.
‘Drink, Sanjay.’
I recognised Biyu’s voice. The rim of a canteen touched my lips, and I gripped it. My tears had congealed, and I had to tear my eyelids open.
Biyu studied me. Concern darkened her green eyes. Dressed and humanoid again, the light flickered, casting her shoulders in silhouette.
You adored him.
I must have shielded the thought, because Biyu’s gaze never wavered.
Biyu took the canteen from my lips.
‘Slowly,’ she said. ‘Otherwise, you’ll choke.’
Unable to bear her scrutiny, I handed her the canteen and got up. My clothes, like Biyu’s, were singed. The room was empty. Blackened burning lumps provided the only source of light. What those shapeless clods had once been was difficult to tell, though I saw one flattened piece twist and shrink as it burned.
Was that a Leyakian’s breastplate?
I peered past the throne and the exit beyond it.
‘Did you get Pak?’
Biyu frowned.
‘I can’t say. The Leyakians were firing at me. Their bullets hurt. I burned them all, Sanjay.’ She flung herself at me and hugged me fiercely. Her tears ran down the nape of my neck. My heel bumped against the canteen. ‘They’re all dead,’ she said.
I cuddled her and had to shift my weight onto my back foot before I collapsed under her. Something small and unyielding rolled beneath the sole of my boot. I scanned the base of the box, straining my eyes in the scant light. Bullets littered the floor. How many times had they shot her? Did she know the full extent of her regenerative powers when she’d transformed, or had she done so intending to sacrifice herself to save me?
I ignored how my insides twisted, and I put aside her adoration for Pak. Biyu had risked her life, and she’d taken others’ in doing so. After the deaths of the Leyakians outside the University, I understood her wretchedness.
‘The egg was some kind of divine joke,’ I said, hoping to take her mind off what she’d done. ‘If Pak got away, he’s run off with an egg-shaped ball of compacted earth and rock.’
With her head resting against my shoulder, she sighed. I studied the wall opposite the throne to see if any of our belongings had survived the dragonfire. To my surprise, the row of items unpacked from the rucksack looked untouched.
‘We should go,’ I said. ‘Who knows how many more Leyakians are inside this mountain. If you’re up to it, we should fly down to the portal and make our way back to the next valley. We can wait there until morning and you’re able to fly home.’
‘I can fly us down,’ she said, unwrapping herself from me. She sounded exhausted and vulnerable.
We gathered and packed our belongings in silence. All I missed was my lightening revolver. The cost of replacing it justified a quick search of the room before anyone arrived. I hurried over to where Pak had stood and searched the space behind it, the floor slippery in places where the sand had melted and turned to glass.
Disappointed I’d failed Rahmat and the Resistance, I bumped my shoulder against the back of the throne. A concave sliver of ash settled on my shoulder and collapsed under its weight into a smear.
Where did that come from? I thought.
I cranked my neck back, wary of what I might see hanging from the ceiling.
None of Biyu’s dragonfire had touched it. I snorted my relief.
Flecks of black ash drifted past me. One of the spherical ears on the throne’s back, the one in front of me, was covered in ash. A small part of the ear—the part where some of the ash had slid off—caught the glimmering firelight and turned yellow.
I blew on the ear. More ash flew off to reveal a patch of white. No, ivory.
‘Biyu,’ I whispered. ‘Look at this.’
I kept blowing.
‘What are you doing?’ she said, drawing closer. ‘Why are you…’
Her mouth hung open as she shared my surprise.
‘I was wrong about the egg,’ I said. ‘The anzu really did lay one.’
Biyu pulled a mitten from my parka’s pocket. She cupped one side of the throne’s ear and gave its surface a light brush with the mitten. More of the ash crumbled and fell away to reveal shell.
Biyu stared at me, her mouth still open.
‘You’re right,’ she said, eventually. ‘You found the anzu’s egg.’
13
Rahmat rose from the examination couch. His skin’s yellow tinge had faded, and his complexion produced a healthier blush than when he’d entered the practice.
‘You’ve worked a miracle, Healer Chopra.’ He turned from me to the resistance fighter who’d accompanied him. ‘Wouldn’t you agree, Juddha?’
The man who’d waved his gun in my face two days ago nodded.
‘All right,’ he said, addressing Rahmat. ‘I was wrong about him.’
Rahmat raised an eyebrow.
‘Apologise then. Healer Chopra and his wife risked their lives to save me.’
I didn’t want to strain the already taut relationship between myself and Juddha.
‘Um, no need for an apology,’ I said. ‘You were only doing your job and looking out for Rahmat.’
Juddha raised one side of his mouth. He held out his hand. I thought it a good comprise and shook hands.
Rahmat waited by the examination room’s door.
‘Do I have the all clear?’ he said.
I had dreaded this question.
‘To be honest,’ I said, opening the door, ‘I don’t know. The poison was demonic and an ancient formula. While Biyu found a cure, there was nothing in the texts to describe its efficacy and duration. If any of the symptoms reappear, take one of the qi tablets I’ve prescribed and return here as soon as you can.’
Rahmat pursed his lips, and crow’s feet crinkled his eyes. He nodded once.
‘I appreciate your candour, and I appreciate your help.’ He reached out and squeezed my shoulder. ‘In the eyes of the Resistance, you and your wife are heroes.’ He exited the room. I saw him look to his left and bow. ‘My thanks, madam.’
Biyu must have left the pharmacy door open. I heard her footsteps. Rahmat proferred his hand. I smiled when they shook hands, Biyu careful not to scratch him with her talons.
I joined her as we watched the two resistance fighters walk past the counter and Juddha unlock the front door. Rahmat pointed at the sign.
‘Are you open now?’
Biyu and I had things to discuss. I shook my head.
‘We’re still closed.’
Rahmat saluted us and exited, Juddha close behind.
‘Thank Khuda that’s over,’ I said.
‘It worked then?’ Biyu said. She returned to the pharmacy.
She’d been quiet throughout the dawn flight back to Bagh-e-Khuda and for the rest of the morning while we mixed and distilled the antidote. Biyu had reassured me she was all right, when I’d asked her, but then shielded her thoughts from me. I couldn’t tell if those thoughts involved the dead soldiers, Pak or a combination.
‘Rahmat asked me if he had the all clear,’ I said, and then told her my answer.
Inside the pharmacy, the room felt unusually warm. The cool rain had caused condensation to collect in the corners and on the sill of the pharmacy’s lone window.
Biyu had stowed away the ingredients and had already washed out the still and left it to dry on the drainer. All that remained of the morning’s work was the spherical egg. Twice the size of my fist, it sat in a tray.
I remembered Toojan’s warning about the egg and how others might come looking for it. From the slump of her shoulders and her taciturnity, I decided Biyu was in no mood for a trip to the Ministry of Holy and Demonic Magic.
‘Why not put the egg in the vault and get some rest?’ I said. ‘Once I’ve seen this afternoon’s patients, I’ll complete a report on the egg for ministry filing and call the Shani’s Mr Tarigan. I’ll tell him to meet us at the Ministry tomorrow morning before we handover the egg.’
‘Thanks,’ Biyu said. She stroked my arm and then went to pick up the egg. Her palm hovered above it. ‘Sanjay,’ she said. ‘There’s heat pouring off this thing. Feel it.’
From where I stood, the heat was palpable.
‘What do you suppose is—’
A cone sprouted from the egg’s surface, concentric cracks interrupting the shell’s smoothness.
Listen, Biyu said.
I leaned forward. My jaw slackened.
Is that mewing?
The egg rocked, and the convex bump in the shell flopped forward as if on a hinge.
I glanced at Biyu before peering into the egg.
END OF PART 1
Another note from the author
A big THANK YOU for reading the first part of The Anzu’s Egg.
Before moving on to your next read, please consider leaving a rating and a review. Ratings and reviews are an author’s life blood. They help new readers decide whether to take a punt on an unknown author’s story, and they’ll also help me decide whether to write more Relic Hunters stories. A rating alone makes a huge difference!
Thanks for your support.
Fancy keeping in touch?
Then, why not sign up to my newsletter for free books, updates, book release details and more. Just click the link below or visit www.jfmehentee.com.
Click me!
Copyright © 2020
J F Mehentee
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of the publisher and copyright owner.
Published by P in C Publishing
ePub ISBN: 978-1-912402-24-3
