He shook his head. “No curses, no magic. Vanishing people are filled with magic. I do nothing strange. Will not touch hair. You cut strand, you tie strand around serpent body, then you see proof of vanishing.”
Hoda looked at Karadon. He nodded approval. “As long you’re the only one handling the hair, no harm can come to her.”
Hoda slid a knife from her ankle and cut a strand of Vily’s long hair.
“Good, good,” Mindhal said. “I hold snake, you tie hair. Then I place snake back in cage, then you and I and the Missy we see what we see.”
Delicately, Hoda formed a double knot with Vily’s hair around the serpent’s neck, then she coiled it along the animal’s body and finished with a second double knot close to the tail. All along, she kept glancing up, watching Mindhal’s lips to ensure he was not muttering an incantation. But the placid man was content to hold the snake and smile.
“Good,” he told her. “Now, I put snake back in cage. That’s it. No incantation, no funny business.” He closed the cage door and stepped away from it, keeping his hands in front of him. “No tricks, no magic,” he said. “Watch, and see vanishing.”
They looked at the snake in tense silence. Aquilina glanced at Vily and tightened her jaw. Her friend, usually so lively and peaceful, was staring blankly in the air as if her body was still with them, but her spirit was somewhere else. Hoda and Karadon gasped, which led Aquilina to focus on the cage. She too, gasped.
Mindhal nodded and spoke softly and mournfully. “Proof of vanishing before your eyes. No magic. I am not magician. This is the doing of the vanishing.”
The cobra stretched its body then curled back into a tight circle and went to sleep. It behaved like a normal serpent and seemed unharmed by the little experiment, but where the strand of Vily’s hair touched it, there was now a thin space that sliced through its body. The snake did not look injured. It did not bleed and continued to behave like a healthy serpent, but thin slabs of its body were missing.
“What happened?” asked Aquilina, shocked. “What happened to the serpent just now?”
Mindhal shrugged his shoulders. “The vanishing. Watch.” He took a thin metal rod, inserted it through the cage, and deftly dipped it between two parts of the serpent’s body. Involuntarily, Aquilina winced, but the serpent did not react. Mindhal pulled back the rod and showed it to them. It was intact. “Now, instead of ordinary serpent, you have beautiful decorative serpent. Worth little fortune. Harmless otherwise.”
Involuntarily, Hoda checked her hand holding Vily’s. Mindhal noticed and chuckled. “No, no, not hand. Only hair when cut and wrapped does that. Doesn’t work on humans,” he added with a somber expression. “Don’t try. Horrible, horrible.” Counting on his finger he said, “Serpents yes, pigs, no. They explode. Dogs and cats, no. Shrink and die. Bats yes, scorpions yes, tarantulas no, they go crazy.” Noticing their lack of interest, he stopped, lifted the cage with the serpent and brought it to Karadon. “Here, gift, because I like you. You give to cobra caravan and they pay you twenty gold diegans.”
“Thank you,” Karadon said. “Please keep it for me a little longer.”
Mindhal nodded and looked with pity at Vily. “She has only hours left, little girl, then, pfft,” he added, flailing his hands, causing the serpent to rise and fall in its cage like a broken doll. “Gone. And what good is this? No good to her,” he said, using the cage to point at Vily. “No good for you,” he added pointing at Hoda. “No good for anyone.”
“What’s the alternative?” Hoda asked, her voice slightly shaking.
Mindhal sighed and set the cage back on the table. He drew close and placed a paternal hand on Hoda’s shoulder. “I say, vanishing is too cruel.”
“Why?” Aquilina asked, “What is the vanishing?”
Mindhal smiled, deploying the patience of a well-honed merchant. “Vanishing is place where you go, but you stay here like those empty spaces in serpent body see? I can put hand through you like I placed rod in space, yes? For me, my hand goes through you like through air, but for you, my hand goes through you like for real. You feel it, and you suffer so much. You never die, you never live. You suffer. You have body and you don’t have body. You ache for body, for weight, for feeling of itch on skin. You itch but cannot scratch, you injure hand but cannot reach hand to heal. It is miserable torture. Most go mad after short time. Others fall in despair.” His expression was filled with dread. “Kerta priest wait for you, brrr, nasty, nasty. Then you can’t die and because you don’t live, you’re not dead. Is worst of both: Worst of living and worst of dying.” He pointed both hands toward Vily. “Look at her, beautiful, peaceful, kind. Reminds me of my daughter. Why send her to vanishing? We give her poison, she closes eyes, she sleeps, she dies. Death is terrible, but good terrible, terrible you can touch and feel. It’s good end. Vanishing is life, but horrible, horrible life. No end to horror. See, we are kind to her.”
“What do you do with her then? With her body?” asked Aquilina, her eyes unflinching.
“Depends on service, see. We can bury, we can burn body, so you pay fees and services. We can buy girl’s body from you and we pay six hundred gold diegans.”
Karadon’s eyes nearly popped from their sockets. “Six hundred—”
“See, fair price. You make good money too.”
“We don’t need the details,” Hoda snapped. She heaved a deep sigh. “Thank you for your offer, Mr. Mindhal. You have been very helpful in many ways. We need to think it through.”
“Sure, sure,” he said with a conciliatory, tender voice. “Tell you what, think it over for one hour, then come back if you made up mind. But you hurry, okay?” He gave a quick glance to the serpent. “Vanishing is at door, not much time, yes?”
When they reached the exit, the deafening din of Tirkalanzibar hit them like a slap in the face. They stood blinking in the light, disoriented and feeling lost. If Vily noticed, she did not show it. Her hand was cold in Hoda’s hand and her teeth chattered, but there was no emotion, no expression. No awareness of her situation. Hoda looked at the little girl and felt as if an iron trap had closed shut, locking them in its jaws. Either they kill Vily or she vanishes.
“Let’s go back to camp,” Karadon suggested to Aquilina. “I want to check on your parents’ tent. Perhaps they have managed to come back.”
After leaving the mummy caravan, they veered left toward their camp, but the dirt road they had followed to reach Mindhal’s camp was now gone. An open tent stood in their way instead.
“What happened?” asked Hoda. “This tent was not here earlier.”
“New caravan. They’re setting up.” Karadon pointed to a group of women busily raising a large tent.
“What do you thusly spy with your conspicuous eye?” asked one of the crew members, a tall blond woman with a heavy iron belt around her waist. Thick kohl surrounded coral-blue eyes, which were plucked free of eyebrows and eyelashes. The right side of her head was neatly braided while the left side was perfectly shaven. Her earlobes were studded with iron rings, and she wore a chain of thick silver around her neck. Iron soles decked her tall boots, and her ankles, knees, and elbows were all clad in iron spikes.
“Mysogones,” Karadon whispered to Hoda. “Tread carefully. We don’t want them to curse us.”
The mysogones were nomadic actresses from the far-off ice-covered north. Some of the mysogone troupes were world-renowned and invited to perform in royal courts. Hoda remembered seeing them during the Festival of Light in Baalbek and Byblos. They were also known for their curseflow, a long litany of imprecations against anyone who crossed them or whose linguistic prowess did not please them.
“Superstition,” Hoda said. “I don’t believe it.”
“Now is not the time to find out,” Karadon muttered. “Let me handle this.” He turned to the woman and bowed ceremoniously. “Forgive our intemperate intrusion into your quarters, M’Lady. We shall forthwith retreat back to our quarters and—”
The woman shrieked.
“Vily!” Aquilina screamed. “Vily!”
“A vanishing!” someone shouted behind them. “Look, a vanishing! Bad omen, it’s a bad omen.”
Karadon watched in horror as Vily flickered in and out of view, one moment standing next to Hoda and the next, vanishing.
On a whim, Aquilina removed the chain holding the Merilian and slid it around Vily’s head, but the young girl briefly disappeared and the pendant fell to the ground. Ashod had sent the Merilian with Hoda for Aquilina to protect her from the searching eyes of Sarand the Soloist. This was the same medallion that Ahiram had lost on the beach of Baher-Ghafé when he was twelve, the day his village was burned to the ground. Quickly, Aquilina picked up the medallion and managed to press it firmly to Vily’s arm. The flickering stopped. Aquilina slid the medallion around her friend’s neck.
Karadon’s reaction was immediate. “Ladies and gentleman, as you can plainly see, this is not the vanishing, but an act, a great act that we’ve been preparing for months now. We’ve given you a glimpse of what’s to come.”
He bowed with a flourish and finished with a pirouette. His cheerful attitude, more than his words, sowed doubt in the minds of his listeners. They watched Vily to see if she would vanish again, but the girl did not. She stood by Hoda’s side, holding her hand.
Karadon bowed once more and confidently ushered his wife and the two young girls away from the mysogones. They rounded another camp and managed to reach their own with no further incidents.
“That was a close call,” Hoda whispered. “Good thinking, Alina. The medallion is somehow helping.”
They went to Corintus and Amaréya’s tent, but found it empty. Drobna, Corintus’ trusted servant, told them he and the other servants had been keeping an eye on things. “They left early this morning and are not back yet,” he added, before leaving them to their own devices.
Standing in the middle of the empty tent, they knew their situation was dire. If, as Mindhal had told them, Corintus and Amaréya were now prisoners of Cahloon, and if in a few hours Vily vanished away, the world would become an intolerable place. Hoda felt just as powerless as when Baher-Ghafé had been destroyed.
“I’m going to find my parents,” Aquilina said matter-of-factly.
“If you walk into that tent, you won’t be able to leave,” objected Hoda.
“I will do it … my way,” replied the young girl.
“No, Aquilina, don’t!” Hoda pleaded, forgetting to use the young girl’s Finikian name. “The Temple will find you.”
“What choice do we have, Miss Hoda? My parents are prisoners in a strange tent. Vily is about to vanish, and we barely managed to escape a mob. What choice do I have?”
Karadon placed a heavy hand on his wife’s shoulder. “If Corintus and Amaréya are not here by the time Kwadil’s second caravan reaches Tirka, the plan falls apart.”
Hoda ground her teeth in frustration. “You’re right, Karadon,” she said. “I know you’re right, but we’re being split up. This whole thing smells like one of the Temple’s mad plans.”
Drobna barged in suddenly. “Quick, through the back door!” he pointed franticly. “A mob is coming this way. They’re after Vily.”
Hoda gave Aquilina the nod. “Vily,” said the young girl, tightly hugging her friend, “keep my medallion until I’m back. Don’t worry, Vily, I’ll never let you vanish. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever.”
“Quickly,” Drobna said. “We’ll distract them but you must go now.”
“Miss Hoda,” Aquilina said, “take good care of Vily.”
“Don’t worry, Lina,” Karadon said, “we won’t let anything happen to her. We promise.”
“Thank you, Sir Karadon. I am in your debt.”
As they were about to step through the back flap of the tent, Hoda glanced back in time to see Aquilina taking a step forward and then vanishing from view.
“A High Rider captain is not only a capable military leader, he must be a wise judge whenever civilians are engaged in a strife with loss of property or limbs. When a member of Baal's priesthood is not present to dispense justice, a High Rider captain must remedy the situation. The High Rider captain is expected to render judgment in a wise and equitable manner, as far as the situation permits.”
–Teachings of Oreg, a High Priest of Baal
“This way,” Karadon said as they scurried between their tents. “And keep your head low.”
They reached the end of their small camp and crossed over a wooden fence on a small dirt road. Across the road, a large group of black tents stood buttoned up and silent. Not hesitating, Karadon gestured for Hoda to follow him with Vily in tow. Hoda had to admit that the strange medallion had affected the young girl’s condition in subtle ways. Her hand felt a bit more real now; it was damp, whereas before, it had remained dry no matter the temperature or the length of time Hoda tightly held it. Vily’s eyes were no longer continuously fluttering, but were more steady. However, the young girl was still unaware of her surroundings and she followed Hoda mindlessly.
Karadon jumped over the fence, turned around, and quickly hauled Vily over the barrier.
“Are you mad?” his wife asked. “You’re trespassing.”
“Precisely,” he countered. “The mob won’t follow us across this camp, and we’ve got less than a hundred yards to cross to the other side. Come on, we don’t have much time to waste.”
“I don’t like it,” replied Hoda, following her husband. “There are at least fifty tents here. This is a powerful caravan. If they catch us—”
“We’ll deal with it then,” Karadon urged. “We need to go. Now!”
Reluctantly, Hoda followed. “This is a bad idea,” she muttered.
“What could happen? Let’s make a run for it.”
Vily tripped when Hoda accelerated her pace. “Karadon,” Hoda exclaimed. “Slow down!”
“Carry her. We need to move quickly.”
Hoda was about to grab Vily when she saw a group of people marching down the path between the black tents and their own camp. In one quick step, the three of them hid behind one of the larger tents. Men and women, about thirty in number, brandished various weapons and shouted angrily, “Death to the vanishing. A vanishing is a bad omen. Kill her! Destroy the vanishing! Banish her, banish her!”
Hoda glanced at Vily, wondering if she knew they were talking about her, but the young girl showed no reaction. “Do you know where you’re going?” she asked Karadon.
“I told Drobna to meet us at the gates. That’s the safest place right now. If need be, we’ll get out of Tirka, which might be enough to pacify the mob.” He took a quick peek. “They’re gone, let’s go.”
They stepped away from the tent and continued crossing the camp when they heard a shrill yelp behind them.
“Here she is,” a tall man yelled with a booming voice. “She’s here, she’s here! I found her.”
He climbed the fence and sprinted in their direction. The two Black Robes braced for combat when the sides of all the tents lifted, each forming a giant umbrella. Folks ran out of the tents and formed a procession. Two dozen trumpets let out a powerful shout, and a low drum roll rattled Karadon and Hoda’s spine. A large choir launched into a jingle as jugglers began to juggle. Gymnasts cartwheeled in and out of the procession, dancers danced at a frenetic pace, and acrobats climbed a moving, constantly changing wooden structure. Smiths ignited fireworks overhead, while a group of dwarfs climbed ladders only to jump back down into a bouncing net.
Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice!
Jonjon’s Circus has finally come.
All hearts shall sing with one voice,
And if you can’t sing, well then, hum.
The procession swept up Hoda, Karadon, and Vily, and they ended up walking right behind the tambourine players. Immediately, Karadon mouthed silent words as if he were singing with the rest of them, and he urged Hoda to do the same.
Jonjon’s Circus is the best.
To forget your wo
es and your pain.
None its equal from east to west,
Under the sun, or beneath the rain.
Hoda was afraid of losing Vily in the crowd and gripped her hand so tight her knuckles turned white. They’ll trample her to death if she stops walking, she thought. All along, she forced a grin on her face and kept moving her lips as if she were singing.
We have come to Tirka to entertain.
We’ll put on a show you’ll never believe.
Come and watch, it won’t be in vain.
Your pain and joy, we shall relieve.
This is a circus, thought Karadon. Must be a rehearsal. That was quite effective coming out of their tents all at once the way they did it. He glanced sideways and caught sight of their pursuers. The tall man was walking alongside the procession, searching for them.
Fearsome acrobats, mighty jugglers,
Tricksters to make you believe in magic.
Greatest gymnasts, awesome singers,
But have no fear; it won’t be tragic.
Two of the bouncing dwarfs landed next to Hoda. Nimble as a cat, one of them jumped on the shoulders of the other. He leaned over and said in a melodic tone to Hoda, “Master Kwadil’s caravaning caravan has been accidentally delayed. It will not reachingly reach Tirkalanzibar.”
Hoda glanced at him, trying to make sense of his words. The one carrying him intoned, “Scouting scouts, Kwadil has sent. Please be readily ready for an immediate departing departure tomorrow, and not a day or two later.”
“Who are you?” Hoda asked.
“We are bouncing spying spies for hire,” the former said.
“All we need is a bouncing bounce for spying,” the later added.
Before she could reply they intoned the next verse of the lively song:
What are you waiting for? Why delay?
Come join us for a show tonight.
We’ll color and festoon all your gray.
We’ll fill you with incredible delight.
Karadon grabbed her hand and with his head pointed to a narrow alley jutting between two tents to their left. She nodded and followed him over another wooden fence and down the narrow road which led them to a camel enclosure. They could hear the circus song several tents away.
The Wretched Race (Epic of Ahiram Book 3) Page 4