by Zohar Neiger
"You have a soft side, Shaman Feng."
The caretaker was wearing his usual hat, shading his shy eyes.
"Thanks for keeping her well."
"Just doing my job."
A moment went by in awkward silence.
"Well, once I take my fee, you're free to go, Shaman Feng."
"You said I could hold her here for free." I side-eyed him.
"Oh. Right! Right, right… yes. And Alioth Hala…"
I groaned and struggled with my purse, shoving one coin into his hand. "Your city doesn't have to worry about her anymore. Goodbye."
"Thank you, and fair travels, Good Shaman. I… I was drunk, I don't think straight when I drink."
"Don't make excuses. Bye, kid."
I lead Juzra down the stairs, into the street, and grinned at her. "Hey, girl. I want to treat you a little bit."
We trotted down into the bazaar where I approached a stall of vegetables.
"Cute pony you have there. Will it be interested in any treats?" A nice old lady smiled at Juzra who responded by eyeing her down neutrally.
"Her favorite snacks are carrots and apples."
"I have the finest carrots around. I'll even get your horsie a discount. What's her name?"
"Juzra."
The lady smiled, "here you go!" She packed a few thick orange carrots into a paper bag and we exchanged the goods.
I don’t need this money for Huapaya's medicine anymore.
The money that would usually be used for things like wool for knitting, different assortments of tea leaves, ink, paper, wood for whittling, air fresheners and other things that Huapaya and I bought for the monastery; that was spent on a sleeping bag, a large supply of nutritious food, some extra essentials like lighters, toothpaste, and most unendearingly, a chamber pot.
I bought some shiny crimson apples too and sat in the shade of a particularly large cactus, Juzra laying down beside me and leaning her head on my lap.
She crunched at an apple and closed her eyes in contentment.
Poor Juzra had been carrying groceries and me back and forth kilometers on end for years now. She was old and tired, not to mention a spoiled little brat.
My eyes couldn't help but fill with little crystals of tears.
She won't survive our journey long, were we to take her.
I offered a carrot to her mouth and she munched the tip.
I grunted to get on my feet. "Let's go, Juzra."
Wandering our way back to the sheikh's mansion, I knocked on the door. The attendant I met before appeared before me. "Shaman Feng, you have returned."
"Hello, sir, I have come to hand in Alioth's report."
The attendant took the document from me. "Thank you, Good Shaman. How is Alioth?"
I took a pause.
"She's fine. Please send a message to her father."
"Gladly, shaman."
"Tell him," I looked over at my pony, "if his brother doesn't want to do a funeral for my late teacher… take care of my pony instead."
The attendant blinked at me. "You want the sheikh to adopt your horse?"
I handed him the paper bags with the remaining snacks. "She loves carrots and apples but more than three a day give her a tummy ache. Her hair should be brushed every Monday and Thursday and hooves trimmed once in six to seven weeks."
"Well, why, Good Shaman… I am quite confused, gifting the sheikh your horse is the opposite of him doing you a favor."
"I disagree." I offered the reins to him.
He shook his head in confusion, but took them, nonetheless. "If that's your wish, Shaman Feng, so be it, I… I guess?"
"Please treat her well," I gave a sad smile, "and love her."
24
"They worshiped the dragon because he gave his authority to the beast." Revelation 13:4
I met back up with Alioth, Janet and Akhet in the oasis, where the air was humid and thick.
Akhet and Janet were sitting on the floor, craned over a backgammon board. Akhet’s wings were drooping on the sand, and she was pointing at each disc, questioning Janet with her eyes. Janet responded with either a nod or a head shake. Once Janet nodded, Akhet moved their piece accordingly.
Alioth let Sahar slither along her legs, bathing in the sand.
“I have to say, I never met a smarter camel,” Akhet declared. Janet grunted with a squeal.
I approached Alioth. "I'm ready to go," I said, pointing to the sack with all the groceries I bought.
She nodded, smiling. "It's exciting." She was still holding her emerald walking stick, using it to support her straight posture.
“They beat me again! Janet, let’s play something else.” Akhet pouted, aggressively picking up the pieces to fold in the game. Janet sniffed loudly.
“Akhet, where did you get a game board?” I asked.
Akhet finally acknowledged my arrival. Putting down the game board loudly whilst the pieces inside rattled, she smiled bright, a glow to her expression. “The demon's a genius, you know, she thought of everything when packing for the journey. My ideal pastime will usually be going to a pub or to a sled race or something, but that's not really an option.”
I shot a glance to Alioth, who seemed mildly horrified. “You are an angel, aren’t you?” she stammered.
“Yeah.” Akhet switched the smile to me. "Where you been, Houyi?"
"Oh, sorry for the holdup," I said, "I had to find an arrangement for my horse."
"My kingdom come for a horse…" Akhet muttered.
“Now, we can’t just stay here, soon people will realize you are gone, Alioth,” I said.
Her puppy eyes switched on. “I don’t know if they’d want to get me back to kill me or send me away as far as possible. I ruined my family's reputation.”
“Either way it’s a good idea to get a move on,” Akhet wheezed when she stretched out her back and her feathers. It was surprisingly adorable how they stretched out and flapped, blowing sand in her nose and causing her and Janet to sneeze.
“Where will we go?”
“Maybe we can stay in the monastery until the nighttime?” Alioth suggested.
Akhet turned to me, expecting my reaction. I froze for a time.
"Why would we do that," I suddenly had the urge to yawn, "when we—"
I finished the yawn. "When we have the light of day to start the journey?"
"You're right, I'm actually pretty itchy to start moving myself," Akhet said, "although…"
"What?" I asked.
"Well, I'm craving a sled ride on the mountains."
Alioth smiled, turning to Akhet. "Shaman Fang seems sleepy. Maybe he can rest on Sahar's hammock while we look for a place to set up camp for tonight. Then we'll go sledding tomorrow."
Akhet's round eyes explored Alioth's figure. "I like you, demon."
There was no need to suggest twice, I cuddled up in the hammock. "Where will we even get sleds in the first place?" I sighed.
"We'll figure it out," Akhet bowed, petting my hair, "we'll take care of the camp. Sleep well, bud."
25
Snake Eyes / Jude 1:6
Akhet held an intricately formed pipe, its carving depicting two snakes, one blue and one orange, side by side opening their wide jaws to have some herb carpeted and lit upon their tongues.
Smoke swerved around Akhet's visage, flowing out of the sides of their mouth and out their nose in slow breaths, fading away when a meter from their body. They were leaning on a rock and looked completely serenely at the withering sunlight as the sun was submerged in the faraway valley.
Alioth gazed. Both confusion and horror ground in her heart like in mortar & pestle. She approached them with silent steps.
“It’s not Iftar yet,” she whispered while behind them, clutching the hijab cloth that was draped over her chest and watching their back and neck wings idly flap away. When they stayed mute, she mimicked them in watching the sun dip its head into the ground like an ignorant ostrich.
Only when the sun disappeared
did they turn back to her, smoke gliding into her face. “What?” Akhet spoke with the pipe still tucked in the ridge between their fangs.
“It’s Ramadan, it’s not Iftar yet, the fast is still... smoking breaks the fast,” she grew embarrassed at their startling orange eye, round and staring.
“Oh, right.” They hummed, turning their wings to her again.
She couldn’t help but twist her head to the tent that they set up a little ways down the hill, where she knew her Quran lay on a velvet sheet (and, of course, Houyi was sleeping). Despite being a demon – she had faith, and perhaps, she believed, that could be the redemption from the damnation of her very existence.
How can someone be doomed just by existing?
“Akhet, you’re a Seraph, right?” she forced herself to speak despite her overwhelming anxiety to speak of the conflict of faith raging in her mind.
“That’s the most modern word I’ve heard for what I am, so I guess yes.” They puffed another batch of smoke. The heavy smell of jasmine, or whatever it was, dizzied her head. Maybe it was anise.
“Islam doesn’t have Seraphs, what do you do?”
Alioth allowed herself to sit down next to them.
A smile swept their mouth. “Maybe Islam has a different name for it. We tend God’s throne, chanting ‘holy, holy, holy’. When you say something thrice, it means it's completely and utterly that thing. So, holy, holy, holy, to my Papa, God. It gets boring really." They sighed in contentment.
“I-I searched. Maybe you... are from the Hamalat al-Arsh?”
The grin on Akhet’s face faltered. “Enlighten me?”
“The angels that tend god’s throne. There’s four of them, there’s the one with the head of a lion, one of an eagle, one of a human and one of a bull.”
“Yeah, four of us. Ah, guess that makes me the human one then.” They put aside their pipe and crossed their arms. A few stars appeared and started glittering in the sky. They were watching them intently. “Judaism has a similar idea.”
“Wh-why the snake then? Why scales and snake eyes? And, I mean, you should have at least another couple dozen pairs of wings…” her voice cracked.
“Let me know if you see a shooting star,” was their response.
“How come you can break the fast? Angels have no sin,” she continued against her better judgement.
“If you see a shooting star, I might have to leave you and Houyi forever.” They eyed her down with flames in their expression.
“Angels have no bodily desires; how can you claim to be one and then smoke?”
“I heard there was supposed to be a shooting star shower on the night of the full moon, two weeks from now,” Akhet grinded through their teeth and scoured the sky.
“The only way that you can be an angel and also have bodily desires is if you were like... like Harut and Marut, the two fallen angels that were sent to Babylon! The only way you can be an angel is if you’re a fallen—“
“Enough!” Akhet roared, jolting to their feet.
Silence reverberated between them.
The sitting Alioth lifted her head to see Akhet towering over her, their great grand wings poking out like a frightened cat’s fur. Fluffed like the ones of an ostrich burying their head in the sand. They looked like Atlas, with the night sky on their shoulders. Their chest raved with their quick breaths.
“My name is Akhet,” they huffed calmly. “Akhet is the Ancient Egyptian season in which the Nile floods the soil.”
Their orange eyes studied her black irises, which naïvely looked back at them.
“My real name is not Akhet!” they cursed into the sky. “I… escaped. I ran away back in Ancient Egyptian times. I was never meant for earth, but oh, how I wanted to get away. And yet, Alioth, look!"
They spread their arms around, "no one has come for me yet."
26
Milk and Honey
I woke up at around 1 a.m. catching my trembling hands. I had a nightmare.
Why Alioth and Akhet haven't woken me up beforehand, I'm not sure, but what was supposed to be a nap turned into further-ruining-my-sleep-schedule-and-now-I'm-awake-in-the-middle-of-the-night-in-a-tent-I've-never-seen-in-the-middle-of-the-desert. Hate when that happens.
The crawling thought that I might fear sleeping like in the past; I pushed it deep into the pit of my heart.
Alioth was in the tent with me, snoozing, her things next to her head. She wasn't covered by a blanket, unlike myself.
Thank goodness I didn't shout in my sleep.
I shucked off my cover and wrapped her with it. Peeking outside, the cool desert night air washed my ears and nostrils, and I saw Akhet sound asleep on the cold sand, Sahar curled in a bundle on their stomach. Janet was a few meters away from us.
Looking at the moon, I suddenly remembered Diana. Akhet mentioned that the creature they are looking for – a koo-poo-wa, or something – was in the city's area. I don't know how far from the city we are now, but thinking thoroughly, perhaps if anyone were to know about things like that it's a fellow shaman.
And thinking about it even more, she had the symbol of Oceania on her chest, and Hawaii is part of that.
I don't want to make any assumptions, however, surely if I asked her, I would glean more information. Besides, she wanted us to meet again…
“Janet!” I whispered, shooting a glance back to the other tents. “Janet!’
One of their rounded black eyes opened from underneath big eyelids. They groaned at me, closing it again. “Janet, I need your help.”
They put their legs over their head, growling.
“Janet, please. Be a pal.”
Their legs slipped off their face with a flappy puff, both of their eyes opened and looked at me in anticipation. I think a tear dripped from one of their eyes.
“I need you to help me swim across the Atlantic Ocean,” I said.
Janet’s neck jumped up, their teeth folding over their top lip. They gave me a high-pitched neigh-like sound, shaking their head.
I stifled a laugh. “Okay, then just help me get back to the Bedouin village.”
Asking for a smaller favor after a bigger one increases the chances of agreement.
They rolled their eyes, staggering to their feet like a bumbling drunk.
Backing up, Janet sat down again. I climbed onto their hump and held tight when they got up.
I call this piece “Al-khaluj".
Trot, trot, trot.
I knot myself around the hump,
The pounding hooves accelerate,
What happens next is up to fate.
Walk, walk, walk,
How much desert would a Jann venture,
If a Jann could the whole land?
Jog, jog, jog,
I’m bouncing up and down,
Faster than fire breathing now.
Run, run, run,
Like the beat of a rowing drum,
When all is said and done,
The legs turn to the speed of a bullet.
Race, race, race,
It is all a haze,
The neck desperately trying to hold the head in place.
As fast as we may go, it cannot compare
To the speed in which the earth is moving
Or the weight of the midnight air.
So there.
Crickets chirped their chipper croaks, the enchanting night sky and chilly air beckoned me forward to the little bungalow at the top of the five flights of stairs. I tried my best not to trip and squash an unsuspecting blue firefly out of a pack that appeared ethereally gliding in the wind. The door was close now, surely.
I call this piece: “Why are there so many stairs goddammit”.
Percussion: The tapping of my feet on stone.
Woodwinds: Heavy panting after climbing up the stairs.
Strings: Is that a harp sounding from beyond the dark door?
Percussion II: Knock. Knock. Knock.
Vocals: A familiar sweet voice, echoing from inside.
/> “Who’s there?” The harp stopped.
