‘I don’t understand,’ said Sharib, scratching his head. Then the Jinn of the Glasses suddenly said in a high, piercing voice, ‘Once there was another, but it is no longer here. And it is not in my power to tell you which or where.’
As it spoke, Bikaj suddenly appeared on the table before them. Ignoring the others, he addressed himself directly to Abdullah. ‘Lord al-Farouk,’ he said, ‘we have always been the loyal servants of your family. We have kept insects from your books and rot from the knowledge of your family. Why then are we being punished by having rude foreign Jinns invade our precincts? First the red-head gypsy, and now this shallow modern creature hiding in the glass, who cannot even manifest into any respectable shape. It is intolerable, sir!’
Abdullah stared at Bikaj, his lips twitching a little. ‘They are here under my authority,’ he managed to say at last. ‘You would not help us, Bikaj, so we were forced to consider other means.’
‘I would have helped if I had been asked properly, by the master of this house,’ said Bikaj with great dignity.
Abdullah put a weary hand to his head. Sharib said harshly, ‘It is you who is a shallow creature, Jinn. You should know that the protection of your house means much more than pettifogging bossiness. Shame on you, playing silly games!’
‘You should not speak to my great eldest brother like that,’ squeaked an excited little voice; and in the next moment, Farasha appeared next to Bikaj, waving his six legs frantically. ‘You’re not an al-Farouk, to speak to him thus.’
Khaled intervened, choosing his words very carefully so as not to offend the touchy Jinns. ‘But I am. And I’m asking you, dear Farasha, my helpful friend, and General Bikaj, who commands such great platoons, please, lay aside your justified anger, and help us.’
‘General Bikaj,’ chimed in Abdullah, ‘would you be so good as to tell your master, me, Shayk Abdullah al-Farouk, where we might find the book that lies in the arms of riddling Albalhol, the book where is hidden the Talisman of the Star? I am mindful of the great service your platoons have rendered my family over the decades, but I ask you also to be mindful of the need for the continued existence of the al-Farouks. And that might not be assured if you do not answer truthfully; then, General Bikaj, where would you and your platoons be?’
The Library-Jinn looked up at him with its goggling eyes, waved a feeler and said haughtily, ‘We will always serve the al-Farouks, if we are asked properly. That is all we ask. The book you seek is not in my domain; it is in Farasha’s. In the domain of discarded books.’
‘What? What?’ squeaked Farasha. Immediately he drew himself up, and a look of ineffable pride came over his silly features. ‘Of course. I will show it to you! Come, come, come with me.’ And he flew up into the air in great agitation, his ragged wings beating jerkily. ‘Come! There is no time to lose.’
‘So you know which book it is, Farasha, do you?’ said Sharib, making as if to grab the Jinn. ‘Why didn’t you tell us before?’
‘Because he didn’t know, of course,’ said Bikaj with great scorn. ‘He is only the youngest brother of our clan, in charge of an unimportant domain. He does not need to know such things.’
‘Well then, brother Bikaj, time to tell us exactly which book it is,’ said Sharib with a coarse laugh, as Farasha drooped a little. Bikaj turned his back on the Jinn master, very deliberately. ‘I will not address you, rude personage,’ he huffed. ‘I will only address the master of the house.’
‘Please tell us, dear General Bikaj,’ said Shayk Abdullah. Bikaj sniffed, but seemed mollified. ‘Very well. It is called A Short Account of the Proceedings of the Royal Society into Research on the Greater and Lesser Species of Silverfish, 1900 Session,’ he intoned in a grand voice.
There was a moment’s stunned silence, then a general burst of laughter.
‘Well, well,’ chuckled Sharib, ‘I am sure it is of such thundering dullness you would indeed have to be in the arms of riddling Albalhol to even consider the folly of turning its pages.’
To everyone’s amazement, Bikaj gave a tiny, wintry smile. ‘It is indeed indigestible, even to silverfish,’ he allowed. ‘Which is why it has sat safely in Farasha’s domain for years and years. It is in that book you will find what you seek. And well rid will we be of the thing it hides, for it does not belong to this house.’ He bowed once to Abdullah, once to Khaled, then with a clap of pages snapping together he vanished.
‘Now, now, come with me,’ squeaked Farasha. ‘I will guide you to my domain. Come with me.’ And happily unaware of the fact that nobody needed his guidance to go to the storeroom, he flapped jerkily up and away, beside himself with excitement.
Soheila had been sent to empty out a pail of slops into the compost bins in one of the yards. She had just done it when she heard a voice she recognised as Khaled’s, floating from the open window of a room that backed onto the yard. She crept closer to listen. He sounded excited. ‘Here it is, Father, here it is!’ Then she heard the others’ voices raised in joyful unison. Her heart leapt in her chest. She must see what they had. She looked around wildly for something to stand on. The bucket! It was a big steel bucket, strong enough to hold her light weight. She up-ended it, got on top and stood on tiptoes to look through the small window. Khaled, his father, Husam and a dwarf were standing around in a circle in a dusty storeroom, gazing at something Khaled held in the palm of his hand. It was a beautiful, carved white wooden box that seemed to shine with a soft, otherworldly radiance. Soheila’s blood pounded in her head. She didn’t need the voice of Zohreh to tell her that this was her family’s lost treasure, the Talisman of the Star.
‘We will have to keep it safe,’ she heard Abdullah say.
‘I can keep it in my room,’ Khaled answered. Soheila clenched her fists. It wouldn’t stay there long, she thought fiercely. Somehow, she’d contrive a way to get into Khaled’s room tonight and take back what was rightfully hers. For now, though, she’d better get back to the kitchens before Miss Josephine missed the kitchen boy Payem and sent someone out to look for him. Slipping down from her bucket and hurrying back to the kitchen, she did not notice Farasha, who, hovering happily above the door of his domain at the spot where he intended to have them write up a really wonderful, sonorous formula in his honour, happened to catch a glimpse of her creeping away. Farasha was far too happy to care about what a ragged kitchen boy might be doing skulking around looking through windows, and so he did not say anything to anyone about it but fluttered down amongst his delighted human friends, adding his thin, squeaky voice to their conversation.
If anyone had been standing in that spot just a few minutes later they might have seen a disturbing sight. A man was peering over the high wall of the yard. He had a handsome but cruel face and was clean-shaven, with very black, smooth hair, and cold, hungry eyes of a curious amber colour, with yellow lights in them. He looked this way and that, as if assessing something, then, just as suddenly as he had appeared, vanished again.
Eighteen
The Talisman of the Star sat quietly in its box on the table, keeping its secrets to itself. Khaled could hardly believe it was there at all. It was strange to think that the person who had last handled it had been Kassim; and presumably, just before him, Zohreh. And long before her, Melkior.
It made him feel better just knowing they had found it. There was something emanating from it – something good, even beautiful, that seemed to enter into his very bones. He was no longer oppressed by the knowledge of Kassim; his heart was stronger now, and he felt less afraid. They had under a day now to break the curse, but all at once he was sure they would do it. It would happen. No-one before had found the Talisman. It seemed a very good sign indeed.
Sharib had pointed the Jinn of the Glasses at the carved box and received in reply the information that the box was made from the wood of the starbranch tree, a small, very rare native Parsarian tree that only grew on a certain hillside north of Shideh. The wood had been carved, the Jinn said, by a master craftsman in the employ of Melkio
r, the Magvanda of the Stars, many hundreds of years before. But when Sharib had attempted to get the Jinn to focus on the coil of fabric inside the box, it had shrieked, ‘That cannot be! Cannot be! It has been touched by one of the Shining Ones, and so it is not in my power to give you any information about it. Only the heir to the house of Melkior can do that. Do not ask me again, Master. It is forbidden for me to say any more about it.’ Then it had refused to say another word.
They guessed that the thin, faded strip of fabric might have been part of the clothing of the baby prince whom Melkior and his students had gone to pay homage to. What its powers were they had no idea, and no way of finding out. Except for …
‘What about Kareen?’ said Abdullah. ‘She knows many things, has wandered many places, and we saw a Shining One by her side at the graveyard, did we not? She is a powerful spirit; she may be allowed to say more than a minor Jinn.’
‘Where is Kareen?’ said Husam, frowning. ‘Has anyone seen her lately?’
They realised suddenly that no-one had seen her since the evening before.
‘Kareen always does her own thing,’ said Husam, sighing. ‘She is off on some hunt of her own, I’ll be bound.’
‘Probably another flying carpet,’ said Khaled, laughing.
‘Or some other contraption,’ agreed Abdullah, pleased to see his son looking so well and cheerful.
‘Can you try and get your bloodhound to track her down?’ said Husam to Sharib, who shook his head.
‘No, not other Jinn,’ he said. ‘We cannot track anything to do with the wild free ones – my goodness!’ he exclaimed. ‘Speak of the Jinn, and she shows her fiery face.’
Kareen Amar had just walked into the room, looking, indeed, rather hot and bothered. As soon as she came in, she saw the Talisman on the table. She gave a little cry. ‘You have found it!’
‘But what does it do, Kareen? Do you know? Can you tell us?’
Kareen looked at the box. She made no attempt to touch it. She said quietly, ‘It is not a thing of power, but a token of love and gratitude. It is a thing without price, beyond value. It is the treasure of the house of Melkior.’
‘The treasure of the house of Melkior,’ they all echoed.
Khaled said, ‘I would be so happy if I could do what is needed to break the curse and lay the spirit of Zohreh to rest. If only a son or daughter of her house were here, we could beg them to –’
‘Don’t be foolish, my son,’ said Abdullah heavily. ‘Not only is there no child of the house of Zohreh here, but why would such a one want to give us the treasure of their house, which our ancestor already stole from them?’
No-one spoke for a little while, for who could give a positive answer to such a question?
Then Abdullah got up and said decisively, ‘I will go and see the Prince at once and ask him to send an urgent message directly to the top of the Government of Parsari. We must find the Melkior family.’
‘An excellent notion,’ said Kareen Amar. ‘It must be done. I will stay here with Khaled and keep him safe.’
‘I will come with you, too, sir,’ said Sharib. ‘I wish to tell the Prince what happened to Mr Harir, the carpet dealer.’
‘Very well,’ said Abdullah. ‘We will go there now and be back very soon.’
‘I will stay with Kareen and Khaled,’ said Husam. ‘My sword will be at their service.’
Kareen nodded. ‘And we must put the Talisman in a safe place. I suggest the library, under the direct care of Bikaj. If he is bound by a written request from you, Shayk, he will protect it completely.’
‘Very well,’ said Abdullah, getting up and going to his desk. He scribbled something on a piece of letterhead, signed it and imprinted it with the seal on his ring. ‘Now, Khaled, please do whatever Kareen and Husam tell you to. Promise me.’
‘Yes, Father,’ said Khaled.
When the others had left, Husam turned to Kareen. ‘Where were you?’
‘Visiting a new friend,’ said Kareen. And she told them an edited version of her visit to Ebon Zarah’s oasis. She ended by saying, ‘So at what time were you born, Khaled?’
‘At about eight o’clock in the morning.’
‘Very well. You should be safe enough till eight tomorrow morning. That leaves us time to summon Zohreh’s ghost tonight. Now we have found the Talisman, too, we may be able to lay her to rest.’
Husam said, ‘We should take it to the library now and put it in Bikaj’s care.’
Khaled gingerly picked up the box. He touched the delicate carved tracery. Was it perhaps just a trifle warm to the touch? Or was that his own warmth, holding it, and his imagination supplying the rest?
‘I wish we knew where Zohreh’s family was,’ he whispered. ‘This is theirs. It should be with them, for Kassim stole the treasure of their house, as well as their ancestor’s life.’
‘If you’re so keen on giving it to them,’ Kareen said, ‘you might well be able to hand it to Zohreh herself when we summon her tonight.’
Husam and Khaled looked at each other, the same thought going through their heads. Kareen seemed very sure of herself, but did the Jinn really know how the ghost would react? Khaled gave a little shiver, quickly repressed. He must concentrate on the positive things, must not allow terror to paralyse him as it had done last night, or he was done for.
Nineteen
Payem made a lot of mistakes that morning in his work and his ears soon rang from the heavy hand of Miss Josephine. ‘What’s the matter with you, are you sickening for something?’ yelled the exasperated second cook, at last, when Payem dropped a couple of eggs on the floor. ‘If you are, I’d rather you were out of the kitchen, we don’t want everyone coming down with whatever you’ve got.’ She peered critically into the child’s face. ‘Your eyes are bloodshot, and you’re flushed.’ She put a hand to Payem’s forehead. ‘Yes, you’re definitely sickening for something, probably some kind of fever, by the feel of you. Be off with you to the dormitory. Best thing for fever is to go to bed and sleep it off. If you get worse we’ll get the healer sent in. Go on, off you go,’ she went on, crossly, when Payem tried to stammer thanks, ‘no point in having a sick boy cluttering up the place!’
Soheila didn’t really feel sick; she was just exhausted, in mind and body. She hadn’t meant to mess up in her work, because she didn’t really want any extra attention being paid to her, but now she felt that an undreamt-of opportunity had come her way, and she must use it.
So instead of heading for the dormitory, she prowled along the corridors, her footsteps irresistibly leading her back to the library. Though she wanted to get the Talisman from Khaled’s room, where she thought it had been hidden, it was not easy to get into the family’s private quarters, and besides, she needed to speak to Zohreh again. As she approached the door, she heard the sound of voices within, and flattened herself into a niche in the corridor. No sooner had she done so than the library door opened and Khaled, Husam and the red-headed Jinn came out, talking softly to each other. She strained her ears to hear what they were saying, but only caught the odd word here and there, ‘… Talisman …’, ‘… tonight …’, ‘… careful …’, ‘Zohreh’s family …’, ‘… once and for all …’ It was enough to make her tremble, from fright and anger. Her mind whirled with suppositions. Were they going to try to use the Talisman to efface the curse? Maybe they thought they could use it to find the rest of Zohreh’s family and finally exterminate them all? And they were going to do it tonight. Her heart burnt anew at their wickedness. She would stop them. No more mercy, no more wishy-washy silliness, she must accomplish her ancestor’s curse, whatever it was.
She waited until they had walked down the corridor and were out of sight, then slipped into the library. She went straight to the mirror. ‘Grandmother of Grandmothers,’ she whispered, ‘please show yourself to me. Please speak to me.’
She looked into the mirror. It only reflected her own face. She whispered, ‘They have found the Talisman, Grandmother of Grandmothers. They
have found the treasure of our house.’
Zohreh’s figure appeared suddenly in the mirror. Her outline was much sharper now, her features almost human, but her eyes as burning as ever. She heard her ancestor’s voice in her head. ‘Today. It must be today.’
‘But Grandmother Zohreh –’
‘Tomorrow he is fifteen. Tomorrow, he thinks is the day. But it was today,’ said the voice, very clearly now. ‘He made a mistake in his counting. He forgot a leap year. Today, a hundred years ago, I died at the hands of a murderer. Today is when my curse will be most potent of all. But I need your help, Soheila, to accomplish it most perfectly. You must not fail me.’
Soheila stammered, ‘But I –’
Zohreh said, quietly, ‘My child, you are here, in the house of our enemies. In the house that saw my blood spurt red on the floor. Will you deny me now?’
Soheila gulped. She whispered, ‘Please, tell me, how may I do it? Tell me, what is the instrument of your curse?’
‘Fire, burning fire,’ came Zohreh’s voice in her head.
‘How must it be done?’ Soheila’s voice shook, though she tried to control it. Surely Zohreh did not wish her to set fire to the palace or to burn Khaled alive?
The ghost’s next words both baffled and relieved her. ‘In one hour, go to the back garden. One hour, you understand?’
‘In one hour, I must go to the back garden,’ repeated Soheila slowly. ‘But why? What should I do there?’
‘Go to the back garden,’ said Zohreh. ‘That is all you need to know. You must do it, for you are bound to your promise to me. Justice must be done.’
And she was gone. Soheila was left standing there, trembling violently. She wanted to ask more questions – she wanted to run away. She wanted to do what Zohreh said she must do – she wanted to run to Khaled and warn him to be careful, not to go near any fires. She berated herself for her weakness, and forced herself to remember Kassim’s merciless murder of her ancestor. She must do it. Blood for blood.
The Curse of Zohreh Page 12
