Ibrahim sank into a seated position in the corridor alcove. The weary man motioned for Ezra to sit next to him on the polished floors.
“My son, I am so sorry,” Ibrahim began, cupping Ezra’s face in his hands. “I should have told you sooner about all this. I should have known that one day, our world would inevitably find you.”
Ezra chewed on his lip, reading the sincerity in his father’s eyes.
“Your anne and I debated many times whether to tell you we were once Magi,” Ibrahim continued. “We thought that by keeping our former identities secret, you would be safe. But I see now that that could not be further from the truth.” Ibrahim dabbed away a stray tear from under his own eye. “And our mistake has undoubtedly put you in deeper danger.”
Ezra lowered his gaze to the floor. He traced the silver swirls of the marble with his fingertip as he waded through the information. Every arc, every wandering flourish of the tile seemed just as twisted as his thoughts. But at the forefront, the lingering shock of Taylan and Kiraz’s affiliation with the Legerdemain Brotherhood crippled him.
And his father needed to know. Or perhaps, he already did.
“Baba,” Ezra started, but his father hushed him.
“I owe you so many apologies,” said Ibrahim. “So many words of explanation—”
“Baba—"
“No, Ezra. Listen to me. Every move across Europe was not only because of who I am, but because of what I did while working for the Magi Administration—”
“Baba, please,” Ezra begged, his sight blurring with tears. Several hours had passed, but the revelation had festered within him for far too long. Holding it inside only scorched what sanity remained. “While I was at the consulate, I learned that Taylan and Kiraz are running against Diederik and Symon for the consul positions.”
Life drained from his father’s face. Ibrahim put a hand to his forehead, processing the information through the filters of disbelief, sadness, and horror. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out besides broken exhalations. “They—they are? Are you certain?”
“Positive.”
“No. No,” Ibrahim murmured. “No, this cannot be.”
“It is,” Ezra sighed. “I was young when we left Constantinople, but I always got a good feeling from them and Yonca. I never thought they were affiliated with the Legerdemain.”
“Because they never were,” Ibrahim answered. “Both Taylan and his wife were part of the Third Order. They served by my side.” He bowed his head and raked his fingers through his untidy hair. “At some point after we left, they must have given in to the Order of Babylon.”
“I think they might have been the ones to order the Dark Watchers after us,” Ezra struggled to say through the emotions gripping his heart. “But why would our friends want us dead?”
“Oh, Allah, be with us.” His father drew Ezra into an embrace and held him against his chest. “I never thought I would live to see a day as treacherous as this.”
Ezra pulled away, anticipating some sort of explanation.
After arming himself with a cleansing breath, Ibrahim wove an incredibly detailed account of his babaanne’s visions, his association with an ancient prophetic text, and his valiant attempts to erase it from history by inventing Time Blemishes. Ezra’s mind spun with dizzying details of his parents’ dishonourable ousting from the Magi and confiscation of their Gifts. He listened with intrigue as Ibrahim traced the reasons for their travels across Europe, every relocation relating to hiding his identity and keeping them all safe. But the Portadown train incident had been the defining moment, with fears as fervent as the flames.
As the words tumbled from his father’s lips, a rising anguish drowned Ezra’s thoughts as he pictured his mother’s last breath.
“Baba, why—” Tears dripped from Ezra’s eyelashes. “—why didn’t you come find me after the train accident? Why did you leave me?”
“I never intentionally left you,” Ibrahim insisted, pushing back Ezra’s hair from his forehead. “That night, I counted at least six Dark Watchers scouring the train for our family. In the calamity that followed, we became separated. I searched for you but stumbled into two Dark Watchers instead. I was able to get away but by that time, the entire train was in flames. I thought for sure you and your anne were dead.” Ibrahim paused a moment, his face contorting with emotion. He pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing. “For weeks, I hid amongst the Irish countryside, finding solace in barns or caverns. Weeks later, I discovered you were alive and had been taken to Belfast Royal Academy. I kept watch over you from the shadows, as best I could. But I lost track of you. That’s when Symon came to me in a dream saying I needed to turn myself in to him if I wanted you to live.”
Ezra laid his head on his father’s shoulder. “Baba, I missed you so much.”
Ibrahim drew Ezra into a tight embrace. “You cannot imagine the horrible thoughts gripping my heart and mind on the journey here. I already thought I had lost you once. I could not bear to confront those fears again. But now I am overwhelmed with gratitude to Allah for Jonas and his group of Magi. Without them, I would not have been able to get you back.”
“They are good people,” Ezra concurred.
“They are, indeed,” Ibrahim said. His father rummaged through his interior jacket pockets and held out a crystal quartz wand, the same one Jonas had given him after discovering his powers. “And they tell me you have stumbled across abilities of your own?”
Ezra retrieved his wand, his eyes skirting away from his father. “I have. Though I do not understand them quite yet.”
“Not to worry, son,” Ibrahim said. “I can help you with that.”
After several minutes of contemplation, Ezra swallowed the lump in his throat. “What if I don’t want to use them, Baba? After seeing what you and Anne and the Irish Chapter have gone through, I do not think I am ready for something like this.”
“No one is ever completely ready,” Ibrahim replied. “Yet, that’s how the Celestial Lifeforce knows we are worthy to wield its power.”
In one precipitous moment, the heaviness of recent events crashed through every flimsy fibre of strength he had left. Ezra’s shoulders shook with overwhelming grief as he wept into his father’s shirt. “But I’m not worthy,” he cried. “I couldn’t save Anne that night on the train. I couldn’t—”
“That was not your fault, canım,” Ibrahim replied, using his thumb to brush the wetness from his face.
“Do you think,” Ezra began, his eyes heavy and lifeless, “do you think Anne is in cennet?”
His father held him close and kissed the top of his head. “She is in Paradise. And she is watching from above, beaming with pride upon seeing who you have become. She may be gone now, but she lives on within you.”
Ezra closed his eyes. As much as he wished all three of them could be here in this moment, having Ibrahim once again by his side was more than he could have ever imagined. Relaxing in the arms of his father, Ezra surrendered to sleep.
Chapter Forty-Four
Theories
Standing on a precipice, Ezra glanced out over the vast underground world. The City of Pillars boasted indescribable grandeur. The resonating hum he’d first heard in the caverns had returned, festering in his ears like an insatiable memory on the edge of remembrance.
But the Shahmaran was nowhere in sight.
Her absence sent a bitter chill through his veins and prompted his feet into motion. Climbing down toward the lake’s illuminated surface, Ezra searched the cave for the creature, but to no avail. Everything had fallen into stillness. Even the continuous dripping of water from stalactites had ceased, giving his beating heart a chance to inundate his surroundings.
“Shahmaran?” Ezra called out, wincing at the volume of his question. “Where are you?”
“I am here,” her weak voice sounded through the darkness.
Ezra followed the reverberations into the lake, trudging through the shallow water until he reached the base of a
massive pillar. He gasped when he caught sight of the chains around her body, effectively binding her against the pillar.
“Who did this to you?” Ezra asked, his fingers trailing over the iron links.
The Shahmaran writhed against her restraints but let out a defeated breath when the action did nothing but press them deeper into her torso. “Someone I once thought was an ally.”
He met her golden eyes. They had lost so much of their life, their original glow. Her limp hair hung over her pale shoulders. Everything about her seemed to be wilting.
“My magic is fading,” the Shahmaran confessed, as if reading his mind. “Soon, I will have nothing left.”
“But why?”
A single tear trickled down the Shahmaran’s beautiful face. With great effort, she urged her tail to the water’s surface, exposing a broad laceration across her reptilian skin. “Greed. As long as humanity gives in to their covetous desires, I will continue to fade.”
Ezra brushed his fingers along her tail. “They are using you for your magic.”
She nodded.
“I won’t let them.”
The Shahmaran allowed an exhausted chuckle to escape from her lips. “Sweet boy, you are incredibly brave. But you cannot stop what has already been put into motion.”
He squared his jaw in determination. “Yes, I can. If—if people were to live like that, nothing would ever be accomplished.”
Sighing, the Shahmaran met his gaze as if she pitied his optimism. Before she could answer, another powerful tremor shook the caverns. This time, however, the quake commandeered their entire surroundings, sending boulders toppling from the heights. They crashed all around them, causing the lake to churn in agitation.
Ezra grasped onto the pillar to steady himself. “What’s happening?”
“It is time,” said the Shahmaran. Her eyes became strangely unfocused, her muscular limbs slack.
“Time for what?” asked Ezra. But he never heard her reply, for a boulder crashed into the waters between them. Knocked prostrate by the force, Ezra attempted to pull himself back up but screamed when he realised his ankle was caught under the rock.
“Leave this place!” the Shahmaran’s voice commanded him. “Go now!”
Trying to keep his head above water, Ezra fought to move the heavy stone, but his strength was fading fast, along with the creature’s magic.
“Help!” he hollered. “Help me!”
“Go, Ezra!” For some reason, the image of the Shahmaran coruscated, replaced by a translucent likeness of his mother. Her long, dark hair dripped with blood. Her cheeks had lost all colour. And a cobra, fierce and deadly, hung around her neck like a scarf. Hungrily, its eyes turned on him, its jaw opening in anticipation for his flesh.
“NO!” Ezra yelled. He closed his eyes, praying that would douse the images from his mind. But every time he opened them, the scenery would flash between the cavern and the train. The juxtaposition stimulated nausea, especially when Ezra noticed the red-tinged water bleeding from beneath the toppled boulder. He fought for freedom as the cobra advanced, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get loose.
A piercing white light swallowed the scene.
“RISE AND SHINE, SLEEPYHEAD.”
With his dreams dissolving into ashes, Ezra’s eyelids fluttered open, greeted by dusty museum surroundings. Groaning, he pushed himself up and stretched his arms above his head. Something about Aja’s melodic voice so early in the day seemed unnatural. But as abrupt and brazen as it was, her cheerfulness inspired relief. Relief that for once, he woke up to something other than captivity and incertitude. Though he would never have the boldness to admit it, Ezra found her bubbly persona comforting yet astounding all the same. “How are you so chipper in the mornings?”
The young lady giggled and twirled amidst suitcases and travel bags. The long fabric of her floral embellished dress blossomed in a dazzling dance, wrapping upon itself as her pirouette ended. Aja’s braid fell over her shoulder when she dipped into a curtsy. “Because morning is the perfect time to celebrate another day of life. As well as another day I have to be thankful you are safe.”
Warmth flushed Ezra’s cheeks. Hours ago, after his father had woken him to find a more comfortable place to sleep, Aja had smothered Ezra with the longest embrace he could ever recall having with someone. Even now, she looked as if she wanted to throw her arms around him again. Ezra hoped she would refrain, not because he did not want her close, but because he was not sure he would be able to control his face from flushing even more of an obnoxious red.
And yet, in the sweet promises of the new day, the world began to transform into something resembling normalcy. Edison and Jonas had returned from a local café with a smorgasbord of breakfast items: tea, scones, fine cheese, smoked sausages, breads, and an assortment of jams. Still bleary from exhaustion, Ezra joined the Magi and sat cross-legged beside his father. They gratefully tucked in, their bellies ravenous for anything passing for order and routine.
Only several bites into his scone, Oliver broke the silence. “What happens now?”
Shifting his back against a wooden crate, Jonas returned his teacup to its saucer. “We accomplished what we set out to do,” he said, his body posture emanating a more relaxed demeanour. “With Diego’s injuries as they are, I want nothing more than to get you all back to Belfast. Safely and without delay.”
Something stirred behind Miss McLarney’s eyes. “But Jonas, what about the Tablet of Destinies? You know Uncle Diederik is going to still be after Mr. Newport. Just because we succeeded in getting Ezra back does not mean they have suddenly instated a truce.”
“Miss Kierra is right,” Zaire said. “Yes, we have gained the upper hand, but for how long?”
“Have you heard any updates from the Magi Administration?” Aja enquired.
“None whatsoever.”
“That is hardly encouraging,” muttered Diego.
Setting his tea atop the crate, Jonas slipped his hands into his trouser pockets. “Okay. I’m listening.”
“If I may,” Ibrahim cut in. “Last night, Ezra revealed a bit of troubling information about your father’s opponents, Mr. van der Campe. They are none other than Taylan and Kiraz, my good friends.”
Jonas blinked. “What?”
Ibrahim nodded. “I can only believe this is some sort of personal agenda now that they’ve pledged allegiance to the Brotherhood. Both know of my connection to the prophecy.”
“Yes, but remember, they are also competing for the bid for consul,” Jonas answered swiftly, sharing a look with Edison. “By sending Dark Watchers after you and your family, it would erase you from the picture and set Consul Diederik and Deputy Consul Symon up for failure, basically ensuring their win.”
“Oh, this is getting more dreadful by the second,” Annabelle sighed.
“So, what do we do?” asked Diego in a hoarse whisper.
“Er—well, when I was being held captive, Consul Diederik mentioned something about Baba being the Roaming Lion from that Babylonian text,” Ezra said as he finished his tea. “According to him, the text suggests the Roaming Lion has seen the Tablet of Destinies before, which is how he knows where to find it.” He studied his father. “Do you know where it is?”
Ibrahim lowered his eyebrows in worry. “I—I cannot be certain. I have seen many things in my life. And memories are such fleeting things; I would not know where to begin.”
A confident grin edged its way across Miss McLarney’s cheeks. “Everything you’ve ever seen is stored within your hippocampus. It might be risky knowing the length of time it will take to review, but I could try—”
“Kierra, I don’t want you getting hurt, too,” Jonas interrupted. “You have never attempted something on this scale.”
“I can do it, Jonas.”
“Even if you could, it is not wise—”
“Are you suggesting I am not capable?” she retorted, folding her arms. Her hair appeared frazzled, her cheeks a scorched red to ma
tch.
An abrupt trepidity washed through Ezra at his teacher’s fury. He could not tell if he was more surprised at her hellbent rebuttals or curious to see her Gifts in action.
“No, that is absolutely not what—”
“I’ll have you know that women are much more resilient than you menfolk give us credit for,” the young woman fervently responded. “I could face a hundred Time Blemishes and emerge stronger than ever.” She paused, throwing an awkward glance over her shoulder at Diego. “I mean no offence, Diego.”
“None taken. It is the truth,” he laughed, clutching his ribs at the sudden movement. Annabelle rested a hand on his shoulder, signalling he needed to take it easy.
“Still, the Celestial Lifeforce can overcome even the strongest Magus if you use it long enough,” Jonas reminded her. “Multitudes of Magi have lost their lives in audacious attempts to undergo its power for extended periods.”
“What other choice do we have?” she fought. “I know you are just trying to protect me, but damn it all, Jonas, there’s an opportunity sitting right in front of us!”
The fire in her voice engulfed the room. Ezra shared a surprised glance with Aja and Oliver, both of whom returned his wide-eyed reaction.
“I am sorry, but our hands are tied.”
“But they don’t have to be,” Ibrahim spoke, a spark of optimism igniting the silence. “We were always meant to do impossible things, Mr. van der Campe. The odds may be stacked against us, but how can one rise without something on which to climb? We are Magi. And inshallah, we shall prevail.”
Ezra surveyed his company as their faces radiated new inspiration. While he still did not know them all that well, he could not help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—this new reality could be something worth fighting for.
Jonas exhaled and ran a hand over his tired facial expressions. “Very well. We shall do this Kierra’s way. But the moment the either of you exhibit any pain, I’m breaking the connection.”
Miss McLarney nodded in agreement and motioned for Ibrahim to sit beside her on a smaller wooden crate. Rising, Ibrahim grasped Ezra’s shoulder before taking his seat. She placed her palm over Ibrahim’s forehead and, after drawing in a deep breath to ground herself, closed her eyes.
The Magi Menagerie Page 27
