Deliverance

by Véronique Launier

  "Don't worry my friend. You will pay your debt, but it is not a problem."

  The idea of owing something to the Jinn made me more than a little uneasy. I began to place the locket back on the counter. The object fascinated me but it wasn't worth the potential cost.

  The shopkeeper giggled again and gave the locket back to me. "Take it," he insisted. "The favor you will owe me is one you will want to do. You and I are walking similar paths." He looked me directly in the eyes and his brown eyes swirled with shades of turquoise blue before they settled back to their previous color. "She will help you fight Ramtin. And it," he pointed to the locket, "will help her."

  I bowed my head to him and thanked him. He let out a booming laugh and wrapped his arms around me in a large awkward bear hug before kissing me on each cheek.

  I still clutched the locket in my hand when I exited the store. I was just about to turn the corner towards Davood's shop when I felt that sharp Jinn essence I had just learned to identify. I turned expecting to see the shopkeeper, but instead came face to face with Pareen.

  She was in an even duller version of her human form; her beauty was not as arresting in this form. Her black manteau was tight fitting in the fashionable style, but the black scarf covered almost all of her hair and neck. She looked caged somehow. The long colorful silk clothing she’d worn on our last meeting had been the freedom to her current imprisonment. Tightly bound by her clothing, she was constrained the way the mummies of Ancient Egypt were bound by their rags. The only sign of her spirit remained in the burning flame in her eyes. I couldn't believe the difference between the ocean of calm she’d been last I saw her and how she appeared to me now.

  "We need your help," she whispered.

  I looked behind at the shop where I had just encountered the other Jinni. What was it about Tehran and supernatural creatures? Was it always like this or was it just the events of the past few months drawing them out? Why did they all come to me? Couldn’t they solve their own problems?

  "You too? Do you know him? Are you working together? Or am I to be approached by every supernatural creature in Tehran today?"

  She looked around "Who else?" Then her gaze settled in the direction of the antique shop where I was looking. "Oh. What did he want?"

  "To give me something that will help Nagissa."

  "Nagissa is dead."

  "So you keep saying."

  "What did he give you?"

  I put my hand in my pocket but hesitated. I didn't know who I could trust and I was starting to feel drunk on all the essence that flowed so freely around these creatures. If only I could find a way to feed off it so I wouldn't feel so weak myself. I hated that I needed Aude so badly. Though if I learned anything from all of this, it seemed that there were more ways than one to do things with essence.

  "Why did you come to find me?" I asked her.

  She tilted her head. "You know my name," she said. "That gives you some measure of power over me, but don't think you can abuse it."

  "So you came to tell me that I could have power over you if I wanted?" I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head. "Spill it Pareen. What do you want from me?"

  "I need your allegiance."

  "My allegiance?"

  "A war is brewing and Ramtin is right in the middle of it all. I can defend myself against humans and most of the Jinn. But the power Ramtin is gathering is something different. I need his type of creature on my side. I need essence sucking creatures."

  "I can't suck essence. Only our witches can."

  "You can't?" She laughs. "Oh, Garnier, you are so very young. Sometimes I forget. Nagissa and Ramtin can both do it. Did you know that?"

  Nagissa and Ramtin could withdraw essence from others without a witch? How was it possible? Everything has its limitations. And why did Ramtin surround himself with witches if he could just do the work himself? "I'm not here to argue with you, and I'm late for an appointment..." I turned my back to leave and hesitated. I faced her again. "If Ramtin and Nagissa can withdraw essence it means that they are different than me and the rest of my kind. I don't know how much help I can be, but if your side is against Ramtin, then consider me in your allegiance."

  She nodded.

  "Oh, and you may want to talk to that shopkeeper. Though it sounds like you already know him. It seems he's on your side too."

  "Oh?" She cocked her head.

  "He wants me to find Nagissa because she would help me fight Ramtin."

  Pareen nodded and smiled faintly. "She certainly would. Thank you, Garnier. One can never be sure where her allies lie."

  I nodded back at her and went to find Davood. I wasn't sure if she was talking about me or the shopkeeper, but I had a feeling she meant both.

  I couldn't help but examine Davood carefully while he led me to the basement studio. But it seemed my third encounter of the day was to be a human one at last. Davood had told me about the studio set-up but I was impressed when I saw it. Very posh. Very East meets West. I was tempted to question him about it, even record a few songs myself, but I had other things to worry about.

  "Where can I find Nakissa?" I asked.

  "Why?"

  "I need to find her. It's complicated."

  He shook his head slowly and clucked his tongue at me. He took his phone out of his pocket and pressed a few things. He furrowed his brow. "I don't have her number. Here, let me give you Roxana's number. She's the lead singer of the band. I'm sure she'll be able to put you in touch with the harpist girl."

  I entered the girl’s number in my phone and thanked Davood. As I was about to leave, he put his hand on my arm.

  "Roxana is going through some things right now."

  I raised my eyebrow at him.

  "I just mean..." he sighed." Well, she's a bit of a mess, and might not be easy to talk to. But if you can help her somehow, I’d be grateful."

  I nodded and let myself out.

  Once outside, I leaned back against the wall and stared at my cell phone. The Jinn wanted me to fight Ramtin, Davood wanted me to help Roxana, and more and more I just wanted to find whatever clue I could about Aude and go back home. Things here were too complicated.

  I sighed and called Roxana.

  "Yeah?" She answered in Persian.

  "Hey, my name is Garnier. Davood gave me your number. I'm trying to get a hold of Nakissa and…"

  "Garnier? I'm sorry Garnier but I can't talk to you. I'm sure they are listening."

  "Who is listening?"

  "Stop it. We've already said too much. I'll meet you. Tonight. At your place."

  "Ooo-kay. I'm staying at –"

  "No. Don't tell me. They'll know. I'll find you. If we have friends in common as you claim it should be easy enough. Tonight nine o'clock."

  She hung up.

  She’d seemed panicked. Who was she so worried about? The government? The Jinn? Ramtin? Maybe Roxana had more answers for me than I had expected.

  At nine o'clock, Roxana had yet to show up. I sat at a little table and sipped on a fruit juice concoction that was this bar's non-alcoholic version of a cocktail. Though I was normally quite fond of my Tom Collins and my Gin and Tonics, I simply wasn't fond enough to jump through the necessary hoops to indulge in this country.

  Once Roxana arrived, however, it became quite obvious that she did go through the necessary means, and probably not just for alcohol.

  She walked in covered from head to toe in a black chador. Though the moment she spotted me she threw it off, revealing a barely-there thin material head scarf and a too-tight fitting manteau. Her bleached-blonde hair looked dirty and her make-up was heavy and slightly smudged. Her hands trembled and she kept looking behind her as if she feared she would be followed.

  "What's wrong? Who’s after you?"

  She looked at me blankly. "How do you know someone is after me?" She remained standing across the small bistro table. Ready to bolt at any instant. "Who told you? Who are you with?" She clutched the large piece of black fabric that ha
d previously covered her with both hands, her knuckles white from the pressure.

  "Please, won't you sit down? I don't mean you any harm. Maybe I could even help you."

  "Help me? How could you, a foreigner, help me? You have no idea what he'll do to me."

  "Who? Is it Ramtin?"

  "Ramtin?"

  "From Fetid Crimson."

  "Oh. Why would I have contact with him? He's a god. You believe me to be a much bigger star than I am, azizam. Is this why you sought me out? Did you expect a famous star? I’m sorry to disappoint you, but you are just meeting a washed up junkie at your fancy hotel." Her voice escalated with every word. "How embarrassing this must be for you."

  "Please calm down. I just need to get in contact with your harpist. With Nakissa." I had thought maybe I could help her with whatever it was that she was dealing with but her kind of crazy seemed to be really strong.

  "Of course. Nakissa this and Nakissa that. I don't get what everyone's obsession is. She's just a harp player."

  "I need to talk to her about a friend of mine from back home. A friend that’s missing."

  "Listen, lots of people go missing these days. Especially the artist types. The way I figure it, they get to them."

  "They? Who is they?"

  "Never mind that. So the harpist girl. I have her contact information but what is it worth to you?"

  I opened my wallet and took all the money I had. A few traveler's checks and some bank notes. She eyed them but then shook her head. "No, I need more. I owe three million tomans. You give me the money, and we can both help each other out." Her eyes lingered on the money but she shook her head. "I need more."

  Three million tomans was a complete rip off for a girl's phone number. I looked at Roxana carefully. She really was a mess. Maybe three million tomans could help turn her life around. Maybe I could do a good thing for her and help myself at the same time. And after the day I'd had, I was more than ready to get the information without more delay.

  "Stay here," I said. "I have some more traveler's checks in my room."

  She nodded with wide eyes.

  I took the elevator up to my room, grabbed a few more traveler's checks to total the amount she requested. I couldn't believe I was paying nearly twenty-five hundred dollars for a girl's phone number. But I was doing more than that. I was helping out someone. Maybe, once this whole mess had blown over, I could become more of a philanthropist. I could help people in need.

  I came back to the hotel lobby full of optimism, but it didn’t last. The girl was no longer where I had left her. I was hurrying to the front desk to ask if they had seen her when I spotted her, by the doors, having a heated conversation with hotel security. I waved at her and she jutted her chin in my direction. The security guard looked at me and frowned.

  "You should keep better company sir," he told me.

  "Whose company I keep is entirely my own business."

  "You forget where you are, sir. Nothing here is just our own business." He shook his head as he walked away.

  I gave Roxana the money. "I hope you can find a way to fix your life with this. You should visit one of the addiction clinics. They’ll be able to help you."

  "Sure," she said. She pocketed the money and gave me a piece of paper on which was scrawled a phone number. "You must really like her to spend so much money on her phone number."

  I smiled. I did really like her, but it wasn't why I needed to talk to her.

  I didn't wait for Roxana to leave the building before I dialed Nakissa. There was no answer. Of course, nothing could go as I planned. I sent her a text and hoped she would get back to me as soon as possible. This whole adventure was starting to feel like a waste of time.

  There is nothing to do. When I got back from trying to find Leyli, Bijan took away my laptop and mobile. He said it’s just until he and Maman get a chance to discuss how to handle my situation.

  My situation. Because I'm a wild girl that goes to parties now. Maman recently admitted she got in all sorts of trouble when she was young. It's not fair.

  The faint ding of an incoming text message catches my attention. This is the third message I've heard. I missed a call earlier too. What if Leyli is trying to reach me? I'm home alone, so I can't ask for permission, but I'm sure Maman and Bijan would understand. I don’t mean to disobey them, but I have to do this for Leyli.

  The first place I check is the kitchen drawer. But all I find there is junk. Next, I check the shelf above the closet and a few other places they often use to stash junk, but I can't find it anywhere.

  I gaze at Maman and Bijan's bedroom. I know I shouldn't go snooping in there. But where else could it be? Still, the idea of going through their things makes me uncomfortable. What if I find something awkward? I shrug and go for it. For Leyli’s sake.

  I start with their drawers but find nothing. I'm about to move to the night table when I consider the house phone. I could just call my number and find my phone that way. I pick up the receiver and dial my number. The ring isn't coming from in here. As I exit my parents’ room, I run into Ebi.

  "What are you doing home?" I ask.

  He raises his eyebrows and shrugs.

  "Please don't tell Maman and Bijan."

  He gives me the same gesture again. Little brothers are so frustrating.

  "Are you going to get that?" He points towards the hallway closet where the ringing is coming from.

  I don't answer him and make my way for the front closet. There, I find my phone buried deep in Bijan's jacket pocket.

  "Got it!" I turn to secure a promise from Ebi that he won’t tell our parents but he’s gone. Whatever. I flick my fingers across the screen and find I have four new text messages and one missed call.

  The first message is from Siavash reminding me of band practice tonight. The next message stops my breath. It's from Leyli.

  “Hey, I'm with Ramtin. Sorry.”

  I don't know what to make of it. Doesn't she understand how worried everyone is? At least I now know she's not dead. I text her back.

  “Where are you? Everyone is worried about you. Are you okay? Your parents are so scared for you.”

  I stare at my phone. But if Leyli got my message, she isn't answering right away. I try to call her but, once again, there’s no answer. Oh Leyli, what is going on with you?

  I have a message from an unknown number, and one from Ehsan. I check Ehsan's first.

  “What's up?”

  Really? What's up? That's all he has to say to me? I resist texting him back. I guess things are over between us, but I'm not sure what happened. If Leyli wasn’t missing, she’d probably be able to analyze it with me. She’d even find a solution for getting him back. If I want him back.

  I open the last message and it’s completely unexpected. The cute foreigner guy. What's that saying about closing doors and opening windows? Maybe Garnier is my opened window. I smile to myself, but my smile fades. Leyli likes him. Though obviously she likes Ramtin more, so I can't really feel sorry for her, can I?

  Maybe she's Ramtin's girlfriend now. I should be happy for her. This could be her ticket to the ultra glamorous and sexy rock and roll life she's always wanted. But the problem is that each time I think of Ramtin, my stomach knots up and I want to puke.

  My vision blurs and this time I recognize what's happening, so I try to fight it. I manage long enough to text Garnier to invite him to hang out with us at band practice but I haven't even finished pressing send yet when I'm suddenly in Esfahan. Garnier is there too. His dress is strange, like he is wearing a costume from those Victorian movies. My own robe looks like those traditional village costumes people wear for Nowruz pageants, so maybe I shouldn't judge.

  Garnier's eyes are soft when he looks at me. Softer than I remember them. Though another part of me tells me that Garnier has always looked at us with such soft eyes. That we are the hard ones. We are the one who could not let his love save our frozen heart.

  His love? Garnier loves a part of me. At leas
t he used to. Over three hundred years ago. What is he? What am I? That voice that is me but isn't me knows what I am, but I can't quite reach that knowledge and I'm scared. What if I somehow release that other personality and she takes over. What if I stop existing? I’m already less myself and more her. I turn away from Garnier in this memory. I turn away but not before I see the disappointment in his eyes. There is someone else I need to find. Someone who has been my rival since I first became what I am now, maybe before. Actually, I don't know if I love him or I hate him. But I have to find him. It's a mistake. I know this, but the girl in my memory didn't know.

  I find him in a secluded corner of the courtyard. He’s speaking with someone. A creature of smokeless fire. I rub the goosebumps on my arms. A Jinni. It can't see me yet, so I back away. I owe them. They know it. I will never be free of my debt.

  Ramtin plays nice with them. He does what they ask. But I can't. I quit playing those games a long time ago. It's why I'm barely hanging on to my court positions these days. It's why I had to collaborate with Ramtin. But as long as I'm in league with Ramtin, I can't be free of the Jinn. He will never give up the power he gets through them. I need to leave him.

  I try to find Garnier but he’s left for his next stop along his journey. I knew he would leave soon. Yet, I'm devastated.

  Siavash leads me through the back of Amir-Reza’s father’s restaurant and down a set of stairs to the rough space where band practice is held. This area is not as glamorous as Davood’s studio, but it’s cozy. Eggs cartons painted a glossy black provide the sound insulation and a funky modern vibe to the space. Instead of the habitual Persian carpets, a sleek, though cheap-looking, floating laminate floor covers the ground. A worn and damaged leather loveseat is tucked in a corner, while a few random cushions litter the floor space around it. Some knee-high wooden crates hold a glass top to form a sort of coffee table on which sits an ashtray, a hookah, and some English books and magazines.