by Diana Green
Impatient, she peered down the shadowy hallway, first one direction and then the other. What was taking so long? Shouldn’t they be back by now?
At last two figures emerged from a side passage. As they drew nearer it became clear Saba was leaning heavily against Hadya, as if she barely had strength to stand.
“What happened? Are you hurt?” Jehan hurried to meet them.
“I’m just tired.” Saba managed a smile. “But everything went well.”
“I can take her from here,” Jehan told Hadya. She wrapped a supportive arm around Saba’s waist, alarmed by the chill of her skin and the trembling of her limbs. Why hadn’t the priestess warned them how draining this might be?
“She requires food, a warm bath, and plenty of sleep,” Hadya instructed. “Everything else must wait.”
Jehan bit back an angry retort. Saba didn’t need people bickering over her welfare. What mattered most was helping her recuperate, and then the two of them could get free of this place, before anything more troublesome occurred.
As it happened, Siham and Hadya weren’t eager for Saba to leave the temple. Their hospitality turned hard-edged as soon as she recovered enough to join them for a meal that evening. The Viper Queen’s interest in Saba had fueled their own, and they seemed determined that she enter the Sisterhood.
“Are you willing to tell us of your vision?” Siham asked, as they all four sat together eating supper.
“It is rather…personal,” Saba answered, still seeming weary despite sleeping through the afternoon.
“But the Viper Queen did appear to you?” Hadya pressed.
“Yes. I’m grateful for her blessing.”
Siham and Hadya exchanged a significant look.
“It’s rare for someone outside the Sisterhood to receive a visitation,” the older priestess explained. “We shouldn’t underestimate the importance of this. In fact, we’d like you to stay here and learn from us. It seems the natural next step.”
Saba took a drink of water, clearly considering Siham’s words. “Thank you for the offer,” she said. “But I don’t think that’s the correct path for me…at least, not right now.”
“But women like you have a sacred duty to serve the goddess,” Hadya insisted. “You can’t turn your back on that calling.”
“And Mari would certainly wish you to join us,” Siham added. “Think how pleased she would be to know your life has greater purpose. She could leave the world with an easy mind.”
Jehan bristled at this line of reasoning but kept silent. Saba needed to choose what was right for her, without being pushed by others. The thought of losing her to the temple was excruciating, but no one should limit Saba’s destiny—not even her anxious lover.
Hadya leaned forward across the table. “Mari sent you here for a reason. I’m sure of it.”
“Yes,” Saba responded mildly. “She sent me to bring a copy of her book. Now I’ve done that, I plan on returning to try and heal her.”
“But after that, you must come back to us.”
Saba straightened her shoulders. “Mari has always encouraged me to make my own decisions, and frankly that was the Viper Queen’s advice as well. The only thing I ‘must’ do is think for myself and find my own way.”
Jehan felt like cheering. How beautiful to watch Saba stand up for herself with these domineering women. She might look soft and speak quietly, but she carried reserves of hidden strength beyond what others realized.
Siham and Hadya continued to push for another few minutes, while Saba politely rebuffed them. At last they seemed to accept defeat and changed the subject.
Despite the priestesses’ apparent surrender, Jehan breathed a sigh of relief when she and Saba finally rode away from the temple the following morning. She had wondered if the Sisterhood might try more extreme measures to keep them there.
In an effort to reach the hidden valley as quickly as possible, they took only short rests, traveling through the afternoon heat. Fortunately both days of the journey they found streams for cooling off.
Removing nothing but their boots they jumped in, splashing each other like children. The sopping wet clothes protected them from the worst of the heat, and playing in the water provided a much needed break from riding.
As they sat in the shallows, small fish nibbled their toes and fingers, causing Saba to laugh and laugh at the tickling sensation. Jehan savored all of it, hoping nothing ever shattered this easy closeness they shared.
An hour before sundown on the second day, they arrived at the head of the valley. A surge of pride and happiness filled Jehan, gazing down on the outlaw settlement. Smoke from cookfires wafted upward, as faint sounds of bleating goats and sheep carried through the still evening. The livestock was being brought in for the night, though the horses were left to graze along the stream, its water catching the late light like faceted topaz.
This was a true home, more so than any place she’d lived since her father died. Now, sharing it with Saba made everything ten times better.
“I was thinking,” she said. “Would you consider staying some nights at my house?”
“Yes. Of course.” Saba tilted her head, studying Jehan as they rode along side by side. “But you strike me as a private sort of person. I don’t want to wear out my welcome.”
Jehan laughed. “That doesn’t seem possible. Honestly! I love waking up with you in the morning.”
“I love it too.” A radiant smile lit Saba’s face, taking Jehan’s breath away. How had she got this lucky? It felt like a lovely improbable dream.
The two women parted outside Mari’s house with kisses and promises to see each other first thing the next day. Jehan tended to the horses, rubbing them down and checking their hooves for stones and other debris. Just as she finished, a shout of alarm went up from the far end of the settlement.
Jehan looked to see what was amiss, shading her eyes from the low-lying sun. There at the northeastern end of the valley—along the secret trail from Tarjene—cavalry soldiers came charging at full gallop. Dust billowed up behind them like storm clouds.
How had this happened? Was Mari so ill she couldn’t maintain the spells around the valley? Where had these soldiers come from, and why so many?
Questions whirled through her mind with no answers. There was barely time to think. She must rally her band to hold off the soldiers long enough for the women and children to escape. This was the pasha’s cavalry after all. No mercy would be shown, even to the innocent.
Unsheathing her sword, Jehan ran through the settlement, calling those who could fight to arms. When she saw Zaki, she grabbed him by the shoulder.
“Go to Saba, as fast as you can,” she instructed him. “Tell her to flee. We won’t be able to hold the soldiers long. She needs to hide in the hills until they’re gone. Go!”
He nodded once before racing away.
Chapter Seventeen
When Saba entered Mari’s house, she found Bennu sitting with her friend while she napped. Everything was tidy, and Mari looked well cared for.
“Welcome home,” Bennu said, rising to hug Saba.
“Thank you. It’s good to be back.” Never had truer words been spoken. The feeling of homecoming was beautiful indeed.
“Mari doesn’t seem any worse than when you left. She slept a great deal but ate only a little.”
“I appreciate you staying with her.”
“It was my pleasure. And others took turns as well.”
They visited a while longer, then Bennu left to join Maib for supper. Saba quietly busied herself unpacking from the journey and preparing a simple meal. Mari was just stirring from her nap when raised voices and sounds of a commotion drew Saba to the open doorway.
Zaki came sprinting up, eyes wide with fear. “Jehan says you need to run. Hide in the hills where the soldiers can’t find you.” He gasped for breath. “There’s too many, and they’re on horses. We don’t stand a chance.”
Terror froze Saba in place. Cavalry soldiers! Here
in the valley!
What should she do? Jehan was clearly in danger, but so was Mari. How could she move the old woman to a safe hiding place? Even with Zaki’s assistance it would be slow going.
“Saba, come back inside!” Mari called, propping up on one elbow. “Zaki go help with the smaller children. Make sure they reach cover.”
He hesitated then dashed off, bare feet pounding over the hard ground.
“Where should we hide?” Saba asked Mari. “I can help you walk, but I don’t think we’ll get far.”
“My legs are too weak for that. We must stay here and do what we can with magic.”
Of course, magic! They might be able to save the outlaws from a massacre.
“We’ll have to work together,” Mari said, pushing herself to a sitting position. “I can direct the weaving of the spell, but you must provide energy. Our strengths combined may be enough for the purpose.” She gestured Saba to come sit with her.
“Do you need me to get anything from the front room, ingredients or implements from your—”
“There’s no time. Every second could cost a life. Here, sit close, facing me.” Saba did as she asked, and Mari clasped her hands so their arms formed a circle. “Put your brow to mine. Close your eyes, and use your inner sight.”
They both leaned in, resting foreheads together as Mari murmured a spell to connect their awareness and energy. Saba understood every word her friend uttered, the arcane speech of the jinni as clear as spring water. She threw her own intention into the working, readily linking her consciousness with Mari’s.
Magical energy circulated through the two women, as their inner sight expanded. Now Saba could view the entire valley from above, the people like colorful shapes, moving over an open map. There were women and children fleeing, as the first soldiers clashed with the outlaws.
To her dismay, Saba saw the pasha’s cavalry was magically shielded. Lord Sallizahn rode with them, extending arcane protection which could deflect weapons and magical attacks alike. She searched for a weakness in the web of defensive sorcery but found none. There appeared to be no way to disable the enemy!
“We can’t harm the soldiers,” Mari muttered. “So we must help our friends escape.”
“How?”
“We’ll turn them into birds so they can fly away.”
“Is that possible?”
“It will take all our strength, but we must do it.” Mari spoke with grim certainty. “Their lives depend on us.”
“I’ll help in any way I can,” Saba promised.
“Good. Now follow my lead.”
Mari began shaping a massive spell, both with her mind and her words. Linked together as they were, Saba experienced the arcane threads of power as they shifted and rewove in complex new patterns. The working was far beyond anything she’d imagined, and a sense of awe filled her. Mari was amazing!
“Remember all this, Saba. So you can reverse the spell when it’s time. I may not be here to guide you.”
She barely registered her friend’s words, being so engrossed in the strands of magical energy taking form. As the moment came to cast the spell outward, Mari drew a tremendous charge of energy from Saba. Life force drained from her at an alarming rate. She gritted her teeth and concentrated on keeping the channels open.
“I’m sorry!” Mari cried, drawing a second surge of energy as she hurled the spell over the valley, sending it to every member of the community. Immense power was needed for such a task.
Saba’s vision darkened, and she almost passed out. In the last second, before the spell took effect, she realized Mari was throwing all of herself into the working. That beautiful, loving, fierce old woman gave her last breath to seal the transformation in place.
“No!” Saba saw the life slip from her friend’s face. In the same instant her own body contracted, a rolling thunder filling her ears. Sensations like pins and needles swept through her, first hot then cold then hot again.
Where once she had arms, wings sprouted. Her nose became a beak, her hair feathers. The clothes she’d been wearing fell in a heap on the floor, as her body rapidly shrank. In less than a minute, Saba transformed to a rock pigeon, indistinguishable from the tame flock kept at the settlement.
It was all too much—her energy loss, Mari’s death, and now this alien form confining her. Saba sank into a state of shock, retreating to a small guarded corner of her mind.
She barely roused when Sallizahn appeared in the doorway, holding a glowing lodestone suspended on a silk cord. To her bird eyes, he appeared huge, a towering monster, silhouetted against the last crimson light of the setting sun. She cowered, finding no will to flee. He would simply pursue her and cast some terrible spell to hold her captive.
“Ah, there you are,” he said, dropping the lodestone in a pocket and scooping her up in his beefy hands. “We’ll soon have you put to rights.” He uttered arcane rhymes, tracing sigils over her feathered back.
Nothing happened.
In rapid succession Sallizahn tried several spells to retrieve Saba’s human form. With each failure his temper worsened, till he cursed and sweated like a tavern brawler. She trembled in his hands, her gaze remaining fixed on Mari’s dead body.
At last Sallizahn gave up. He emptied a lidded basket from Mari’s shelves and placed Saba inside, carrying her under his arm as he stomped outside. With the top of the basket secured, she caught only fleeting glimpses through looser spots in the weaving.
Soldiers looted the settlement, setting alight any flammable structures. Orange flames licked high into the twilight sky, sending swirls of sparks careening overhead. The acrid scent of burning hung in the air.
“See to that one,” Sallizahn commanded a group of soldiers, gesturing toward Mari’s house. “And torch everything inside to ashes. A witch lived there. Nothing of hers must remain.”
He strode to the far end of the settlement where cavalry horses waited tethered. Saba’s despair deepened when she caught sight of three dead outlaws, who must have fallen before the transformation spell took effect. Jehan was not among them, but she recognized Makeem’s broad shoulders and bald head. Fresh grief pierced her as she thought of Adiva widowed, Bibi and Manar left without a father.
It was then Saba noticed a shimmering magical net—clearly constructed by Sallizahn—flung over the ground and holding several pigeons. They appeared either injured or dazed, explaining why they hadn’t flown away to avoid capture.
For one brief moment of clarity, she felt certain Jehan was among the netted birds. Something about a particular pigeon caught her awareness. She looked closer, noting the way its wing hung askew, droplets of blood speckling its gray plumage.
Let her live! She prayed silently. Please, let her live.
Sallizahn shouted orders, rounding up the soldiers to depart. He bound Saba’s basket to the back of his horse’s saddle, and she lost sight of the netted birds. Would they be killed or kept imprisoned? Hopefully the others were safely away by now, beyond the reach of her father and his sorcerer hound.
~*~
The following days blended into a miserable blur for Saba. She huddled in the basket as it jounced along with the horse’s movement. Periodically Sallizahn unfastened the lid to give her water in a copper cup. She ate none of the grain he tossed in, as she had no appetite.
It seemed the cavalry soldiers were already exhausted by their punishing race to find her. Sallizahn had pushed them mercilessly to ride day and night. Now they needed rest for their horses and themselves.
The sorcerer left them behind, taking fresh steeds as replacements for his own when it tired. Perhaps he felt impatient to reach the palace so he might consult spell books to restore her human form. She couldn’t know why he hurried, but the possibilities filled her with dread.
Little else reached Saba through her haze of sorrow. As they neared Tarjene she was only vaguely aware of her surroundings. Flat bottomed boats with square sails dotted the Namur River, while hawkers shouted from colorful stalls
along the road to the city gates.
At some other time, these sights and sounds might have charmed her. But now she experienced them through the woven walls of her basket prison. For a few brief weeks she had known true happiness, and now all that was torn from her. She felt hollow and hopeless, a lost soul adrift in a nightmare without end.
Upon reaching the palace, Saba was transferred to a delicate golden birdcage and placed in her father’s chambers, near his massive ebony desk. She overheard his orders to house the other pigeons—once they arrived—in his aviary. When they could be made human again, a public execution would be scheduled.
He argued loudly with Sallizahn about how best to proceed. The sorcerer wished to focus solely on reversing the transformation spell, but Asab insisted he concoct a potion first—for a plan involving the heir’s Nissian wife.
Saba didn’t know the specifics, but anything delaying the outlaws’ deaths was good. The longer they remained birds, the more chance there was of escape.
This thought finally shook Saba from her passivity. Perhaps she wasn’t completely helpless. What if she could find a way to aid the imprisoned outlaws? Jehan’s survival might depend on her.
She furtively tried opening her cage door, but it was securely locked. The effort made her dizzy, highlighting her depleted condition. However much she despised eating food given by Sallizahn or her father, it was necessary. Days of fasting—after such an intense energy drain—had done her no favors. The ordeal left her weak and sluggish, of no use to anyone.
Resolved, she ate every tidbit dropped in her cage. Grief at Mari’s passing still hung heavy on her, but she began to wake, remembering that life held value. Mari wouldn’t want her to give up. She had died giving Saba and the outlaws a chance. Her sacrifice should be honored.
By Saba’s third day in the palace she felt physically stronger and clearer of mind. When Sallizahn came to Asab’s chambers, bringing the requested potion, she listened intently, determined to understand her father’s plans.
