The Simoqin Prophecies

by Samit Basu

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said the jinn. ‘Why would I want to grant you three wishes?’

  ‘I freed you! From the lamp!’ Hasan looked around wildly for his camel. It was gone.

  The jinn had had enough of this nonsense. Freed him from his own lamp, indeed! It flew up in the sky, caught up with the running camel and ate it.

  Aaaaaah, fresh camel. Very good.

  It was still hungry.

  It looked around, found Hasan, wide-eyed and trembling, trying to hide behind a dune, and ate him too.

  Why? Why had the juicy boy wanted wishes?

  Then it found the lamp – the handle was sticking out of the swirling sand – and flew inside. Time for a nice nap.

  The dunes shifted again in the howling sandstorm. Sand covered the lamp.

  Inside the beautifully carved golden lamp, the jinn was having trouble sleeping.

  What wishes? Why wishes?

  Another, very disturbing thought struck the jinn and kept it awake for a long time.

  Why three?

  Chapter Fifteen

  In a hole in a wall in the Chief Civilian’s palace there lived a rabbit. It is a well-known fact that rabbits, by twitching their sweet little noses in an endearing manner, can sense danger, even when danger is far away. It is also well known that on sensing danger, a rabbit always runs.

  What made this particular rabbit different was the fact that he ran towards danger. In fact, running towards danger was one of the chief functions he performed as a member of the Civilian’s elite Red Phoenix Guard. And had this rabbit been able to actually issue orders instead of just leading by example, he would have been Captain of the Ref Phoenix. In every magical world, at any point of time, there is always a single killer rabbit. In this world, he was the one, and his name was Bunz.

  Steel-Bunz.

  Steel-Bunz had been assigned the task of keeping Asvin alive during his stay in Kol, a task that sadly had not involved major bloodshed thus far. As night ended a day full of too many excursions to cultural landmarks with Asvin and Amloki, and too few mangled corpses, Steel-Bunz paced the corridors of the palace, hoping for intruders. But there were none tonight, and slow nights after slow days were just unfair. Steel-Bunz snuffled in dissatisfaction and returned to his hole. All seemed, alas, to be well.

  Captain Rupaisa, the Civilian’s personal bodyguard, was sitting in the library opposite the Civilian’s bedroom, reading a book of poems by the Bard of Potolpur. On her right, a large window looked out towards the city; occasionally looking outside, Rupaisa saw nothing but heavily armed Red Phoenix guards on patrol, skimming by on their special Harpoon vroomsticks. The palace was safe.

  The Silver Dagger entered the room through the window, noiselessly. He jumped down to the floor, drawing in a blackened rope and a black cloth-covered grappling hook.

  ‘Hello,’ said Rupaisa, without turning around.

  ‘Is she waiting?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I was hoping she would be late,’ said the Dagger, looking at the Captain of the Red Phoenix. She was from Durg, like the Civilian, and she looked every inch a Durgan, tall, athletic, regal in her maroon and black uniform. Her sword, he noted appreciatively, was drawn. She rose and smiled.

  ‘I was too. And how have you been?’

  ‘Busy. And so have you, I hear. How many would-be assassins this week?’

  ‘Four. But only one got as far as me.’

  The Dagger looked at her. ‘Can you – ’ he started, but then paused. ‘I’d better go.’

  ‘Yes.’

  He started towards a bookcase. He paused, and looked at her. ‘But then again…’

  A little later, a bookcase slid back, and the Dagger disappeared.

  Rupaisa returned to her book, a picture of innocence.

  ‘Trouble?’ asked the Civilian.

  The Dagger sat down. ‘Always.’

  The Civilian sat back. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Before I come to that – the asur situation is graver than we thought. Apparently the pests have a king. His name is Leer and he is in Kol now. Bands of danavs are slipping past the checkposts and into the sewers.’

  ‘An underground movement, in short.’

  ‘It’s no laughing matter. Right now they’re sticking to defacing monuments and the occasional robbery, but there will be riots soon. A glorious revolution, they call it. I could, um, remove the king, of course, but that wouldn’t really help; they would simply crown someone else. They don’t seem to care about anything at all now except Danh-Gem’s return.’

  ‘And where and when is this planned?’

  ‘They don’t know. At least the one I spent far too much time with yesterday didn’t know. I think you should start evicting asurs who don’t have work permits.’

  ‘That would be most convenient for them,’ said the Civilian. ‘There would be protests, followed by riots and a mass migration to Imokoi, and they could build their armies in peace with Koli money. Besides, the city needs asurs; I’d have to ask you to clean the city if they left, and I need you elsewhere.’

  ‘The danavs will keep coming, then.’

  ‘We have room to spare. The city asurs are far from happy about the sudden appearance of their northern cousins. And remember, the city asurs are the ones with the money. For the asurs to be a threat, they need weapons, armour and wide spaces to run around in. Leer, and whoever sent him, cannot build an army in the sewers of Kol.’

  ‘I see. And who is behind this? Artaxerxia?’

  ‘Where there is intrigue, there is always Artaxerxia. But the Sultan gains nothing by aiding asurs. And he does not play childish games – not with me. He wants to control Kol, not cripple it. It is Avranti he wants to destroy. Artaxerxia will not take sides unless Danh-Gem really returns. Perhaps not even then.’

  ‘But they served him in the Age of Terror.’

  ‘They gained Elaken in return, and were promised Avranti. But this Sultan is no fanatic. He may aid Danh-Gem’s allies in secret, but will not raise his own armies until Avranti gets involved. No. Skuanmark is behind this.’

  ‘Which is why that Skuan cutthroat Bjorkun is in the city,’ said the Dagger grimly. ‘He entered, in secret, three days ago.’

  ‘He is being watched.’

  ‘Not closely enough. He came here to meet someone. We don’t know who.’

  ‘We will know soon enough. I have certain assignments for your men in Artaxerxia and the north. And now, tell me – what is this news you speak of? Why did your men return late?’

  ‘Manticore,’ said the Dagger simply. ‘The man-lions walk again.’

  Very few people had seen the Civilian look alarmed. The Dagger was one of them.

  ‘Where?’ she asked.

  ‘Vrihataranya,’ he replied. ‘My men were riding back from Avranti, and they found a vanar lying on the road, his tail stretched across it.’

  ‘Vanars? Where did they enter this tale? Explain.’

  ‘I do not know. This vanar was a young baboon-man named Ulluk. He had been pierced by a poisoned dart, and was dying. Hihuspix asked him what had happened, and he said he had been following a manticore.’

  ‘Vanars are not known for their proficience with bestiaries.’

  ‘Well, he said a lion with a man’s head, lots of fangs and a tail that shot darts.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘Hihuspix tried to heal him, but could not. This Ulluk said some other things as well. He cursed Hihuspix and all humans, said the vanars would raise Danh-Gem, and that his uncle would rule Kol one day.’

  ‘Charming. And then?

  ‘Then he died.’

  ‘His uncle?’

  The Dagger shrugged.

  ‘I see. And what was Hihuspix’s report? Did he meet the manticores?’

  ‘Hihuspix has not returned. He went into the forest to investigate.’

  ‘I see. Well, this is news indeed. Manticores in the forest, shooting vanars who plan to raise Danh-Gem. Another of those unfort
unate side-effects of the increase in magic, do you think? Who knows. This was not planned.’

  ‘Should we try to kill the manticores?’

  ‘Manticores were harder to kill than dragons. And the manticores, as far as I remember, served the ravians. Therefore, we will do nothing. Let us see what Mantric has to say. But I suspect the reappearance of manticores is something the allies of Danh-Gem should be worrying about, not us. The vanars, on the other hand – had not considered them. That was a mistake. Yes, something will have to be done about the vanars. Especially this uncle who will rule Kol one day.’

  They were both silent for some time, watching the solitary candle in the room sputter and their shadows jerk about on the walls.

  ‘What do you think of our hero?’ asked the Civilian. ‘Is he adequately trained?’

  ‘By Avrantic standards, yes. He shoots well, and his swordplay is adequate. He fought well in the forest, when we attacked his guards. But any of my men could kill him in a minute. He needs an experienced tutor. Also, he knows nothing of the world outside Avranti.’

  ‘Is he attracting attention?’

  ‘Just his looks, but that cannot be helped. No one has recognized him yet. The spies in the castle see him wandering around harmlessly with a little khudran, and assume he is another of your… friends. If they find him alone, they will try to buy him to assassinate you, he will react angrily and will be found out. But they will not find him alone.’

  ‘I would have sent Asvin to Hero School,’ said the Civilian softly. ‘The school is not what it used to be, but he would have learnt some things there. But that is impossible now. He would be recognized. It is time to bring the vaman into the game. You vouch for him?’

  ‘Yes. He has helped me before. And we cannot keep Asvin in the city much longer. Send them out. Let him train. I could send a few of my men too.’

  ‘You will go with them.’

  ‘I am not needed. Mantric and Gaam, and a few of the younger Phalanx boys.’

  ‘Let me put this in perspective, my friend. We are sending the young man who we hope will save us all to learn how to save himself. This will involve sending him on very, very dangerous quests. We thought the last one would manage on his own. And the ones before. This time, we cannot afford to take any chances. I need you watching over him.’

  ‘And what if he is not the hero?’

  ‘Then we will have run out of time, and will have to defeat Danh-Gem with whatever we have.’

  ‘And if he is the hero, and I keep him alive until he is ready, you will remember what I asked for.’

  ‘We will discuss that later.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Very well. Listen to me, then. You cannot retire now. You are far too young, and Kol needs the Silver Dagger. I like to say no one is indispensable, but you come close. I need you. And I need some rest. Make the arrangements.’

  

  Two crows sat on a tower and watched the sun rise.

  ‘How did it go, man?’ asked Captain Forty-five ‘Maverick’.

  ‘Very boring,’ said Yahoo.

  ‘Boring? Bali and Bjorkun in Kol, secrets and plots, the invasion of the Big Mango finally begins and it’s boring?’

  ‘Invading? If this is an invasion, I’m a – well, something else. All they did was talk. No killing, no maiming, just talk.’

  ‘What about, man?’

  ‘First, they talked about asurs. Bali doesn’t want to work with them. Bjorkun said it was absolutely necessary. I’m with Bali – those asurs eat crows. They eat anything they get. Imagine! How uncouth!’

  ‘We eat anything we get,’ said Maverick, perplexed.

  ‘That’s different,’ explained Yahoo. ‘Anyway, you were quite right. They don’t seem to be heading towards the Revolution at all. Bali told Bjorkun all about the blasted pashan, Bjorkun said he would find out about it, probably from the asurs.’

  ‘And when does the carnage start?’

  ‘They didn’t even talk about that. They kept talking about stealing books from some library.’

  ‘Books? Stealing books?’

  ‘Danh-Gem had some books in Imokoi that the asurs gave to the spellbinders of Kol when they surrendered.’

  ‘They took books from asurs? What were they, like, stupid?’

  ‘Bali said that too. But Bjorkun said these were very powerful books, and the spellbinders thought they could use them to help people and things like that. But they could never understand what was written on the books, the idiots.’

  ‘But, man, if they’re going to steal books, why are they stealing the ones that no one understands?’

  ‘Bjorkun said he hoped these books would have spells which would raise Danh-Gem. If they can read the books somehow, it would be goodbye Kol and we’d be kings of the air, yes.’

  ‘Hey, that would be big, man. But if these books are, like, so important and all, won’t they be tough to steal?’

  ‘Yes. Bjorkun wants Bali to steal them since he’s being followed and no one knows Bali is here. Bali didn’t like that much.’

  ‘So they’re sending in a warrior king to steal these books they don’t know if they can read, and if they read them, they don’t know if they can bring back Danh-Gem, and if they bring back Danh-Gem, no one knows what happens next.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That’s the worst invasion ever, man.’

  ‘I know. Sometimes I feel like Bali’s just using us to find things out, and the revolution won’t happen at all.’

  ‘That’s, like, negative thoughts, man.’

  ‘I know. Don’t tell Kraken, he’d kill me.’

  ‘But you know what? I think you’re right, Yahoo. We’ve got to do something about this.’

  ‘Yes. The Revolution has to happen. Otherwise, we crows, we’ll be reduced to eating garbage.’

  ‘We do eat garbage, man,’ said Maverick, perplexed.

  ‘That’s different,’ explained Yahoo.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Enki, Bearmonth 22nd, 4 a.m.

  Proposals for marriage and related activities 4, Number of times caught self looking in mirror, thinking of appearance etc. 3, Dragonjuices 0, Non-lethal drinks 2 (am not alcoholic) Lechers quelled 14, Lustful thoughts 2, Interesting facts about ravians many, Answers to unanswered questions 0, Magic 7/10.

  Lost the new diary again. I’m hopeless. But went to Frags, cured Triog’s headache. Poor thing never knows which head has it. Forgotten my New Year’s Resolutions, should write them down. Anyway, have broken all of them except the don’t-need-a-man one. We played mindball again; Kirin won today. He’s getting really good. Oh damn, that whole thing about him being a ravian was in that diary. Anyway, I’m not likely to forget that. Plus I will probably lose this diary too.

  Did some good work on the Intulo Paradox today. Got a letter from father, which ran ‘Hello Maya I hear you topped University very good are you going to teach if not you can come here help with my research by the way you can act can’t you,’ and then two pages about bunyip courtship rituals. At least he’s still on Bolvudis; I think I will go there with Kirin – it’s been a long time since I last went on a holiday. Will just take a shot at the Untranslatables first. Made a new decoding spell that I want to try. Of course Ombwiri said it wasn’t a code, it was another language. We’ll see.

  Met Amloki, the Civilian’s page, flying around the city with a man in a hood. He said hello very sheepishly and flew away.

  So. Prince Kumirdanga of Potolpur wants to marry me. Wants isn’t the word, is willing to make the great sacrifice. He came to Enki, barged into my room and was very eloquent and very romantic. ‘After all you have finished your studies and it is time you settled down. You need a husband and I am, let me tell you in confidence, considered to be an excellent catch.’ Moron. ‘And let me tell you something else, you know no one wants to marry spellbinders, especially spellbinders from Durg, as they are often disobedient wives; but I think if you cleaned up you would be adequately beautiful, also your (l
ong pause) figure is, if I may take the liberty of saying so, quite excellent. Yes, you will do. I am willing to be your husband and have you bear my heirs, but you must understand my word is law. Always best to make things clear to spellbinders and Durgan women haha, haha.’

  I turned him into a slug. He doesn’t look very different, actually. Will change him back if anyone misses him. I hope I don’t lose this diary before I forget all about this, because no one is likely to miss him.

  Need a husband. Moron. Kumirdanga is now in a little matchbox. I was keeping him in an empty bottle but then I realized he would have seen me changing. I wonder if that would mean anything to a slug. I’ve thrown his royal robes away; must remember not to be in the same room as him when I change him back.

  I suppose its something to do with finishing the degree. A lot of people in class are falling in love with one another. It’s really sad that most male spellbinders, after all they learn here, want housewives. But then it doesn’t matter to me either way. The other girls are experimenting with makeup and jewellery. Revolting. I turned my hair blue today by accident. Tiara saw me and screamed. I told her I was all right, but it turned out she was screaming because she liked it. Now lots of people are wandering around with blue hair. I am a fashion queen, heh heh. Like the time I turned myself bald by accident.

  Somehow I get the feeling that Kirin is Simoqin’s hero. Everything fits; he came back from the dead, in a manner of speaking, he is of royal blood, he did come to a human city. Spikes isn’t half his height, though. But that’s Spikes’ fault, not Kirin’s. The whole Spikes issue is bothering me. How did he just find Kirin? Maybe it really is a coincidence. Stop worrying.

  Must clean up my room. What a mess. WHAT a mess. Must stop being lazy sloth-type who tries to get away with magic. Must stop being confused and eccentric and become controlled, authoritative young adult. Must buy new clothes, clean old ones and throw away the ones with larger holes, because people look. Must stop wasting money, especially on liver-burning addictive substances. Must stop at laughing loudly at people inside my head. AND outside, i.e. aloud. Must stop flirting with anyone I find mildly attractive. Must stop giggling at stupid things said by and falling stupidly for handsome muscle-bound men, as am succumbing to image of hero perpetuated by society which places too much emphasis on physical prowess.