The Sabaoth's Arrow

by J F Mehentee

Zana lay down. He rested his chin on a foreleg and closed his eyes.

  You can still make a difference, he told himself.

  20

  Sassan stared at the tablet and the message he’d written beneath his report to the emperor. The wedge-like shapes matched those produced by his stylus, and the spacing between the words and the lines of text matched the report he’d been writing. God, however, had then conveyed His message through Sassan’s hand.

  The past seven days, everything—the visions, the signs, the sabaoth’s arrow and the seal—had led up to this moment. Sassan put down the tablet. His hand shook. Across from the tablet lay the amphora and the golden arrow. He picked up the amphora. The weight of its contents and the coolness of its surface reassured him.

  Put yourself between the seal’s power and the daeva who will deliver your men to Iram.

  He’d read that last part of the message several times before he’d gone to see General Afacan. Then, back in his tent, he’d read it again to be sure of his interpretation.

  Even though his eyes were open, he still saw Pudil, the bulging veins on his neck and temples glowing as if fire and not blood flowed through them.

  God sent the message, Sassan reminded himself. If there’s pain, it’s because He’s testing you. He wants to know if you’re still worthy of His favour.

  Sassan put down the amphora. It would still be there after they’d raised the portal.

  Sassan smoothed the creases from his tunic, picked up the sabaoth’s arrow, then left the tent.

  With a guardsman following behind, Sassan made his way to the back of the encampment and beyond it, to a place that no one could see from Arshak’s ramparts.

  He found General Afacan, the manacled daeva, Tamraz, and fifteen men—three magi and twelve guardsmen armed with swords, shields, bows and arrows—waiting for him.

  The men, except for the daeva, stood to attention. The general approached. Sassan waited, but all he received from Afacan was a stiff nod.

  Sassan filled the uncomfortable silence with ‘Think, speak and act well, General.’

  The general’s reply sounded like a criticism. After the morning’s failed experiment with Pudil, Sassan knew the general didn’t approve of this endeavour.

  ‘Are the men ready for the rescue attempt, General?’

  ‘They are, High Magus.’

  ‘And they know I want at least one djinni captured alive?’

  ‘Yes, High Magus.’

  The general sounded as brittle as his behaviour.

  ‘Very well,’ Sassan said, then stepped around him. He reached the guardsmen and magi. He raised his right hand. The fifteen knelt on one knee and received his blessing.

  The men stood, and the general joined him.

  ‘Are they familiar with the city’s layout Tamraz provided?’ Sassan said.

  The general began with a curt nod. ‘As well as they could be in the limited time we’ve had to prepare.’

  Sassan heard the dissension, expected it.

  ‘High Magus, are you certain you can return the men to Arshak?’

  Sassan glowered at the general.

  ‘General Afacan, if I’m able to raise a portal into Iram, then I will raise a portal to transport them back. As we’ve already discussed, I and Tamraz will arrive outside Iram at dawn, and we will wait for them.’

  The general glanced at the daeva with what Sassan took for pity.

  He won’t suffer the same fate as Pudil, Sassan thought. I’ll prove you and the others wrong.

  Sassan had spent his life proving others wrong.

  He waved for Tamraz to approach.

  ‘Unshackle him, General,’ he said.

  Sassan expected the general to huff at being tasked with something he’d order one of his own men to do. The general stepped forward and removed the pins from the manacles around the daeva’s wrists and ankles. Afacan then gave the daeva a nod and wished him good luck.

  Sassan used his mounting fury to calm his fear. Even though it was late at night, he sweated beneath his tunic. Sassan squeezed the sabaoth’s arrow and held his breath.

  The neckline and underarms of Tamraz’s tunic, he noticed, had darkened, too.

  He’d found the daeva that afternoon. Unlike the others, Tamraz hadn’t tried to flee Arshak. His willingness to convert, so he and his wife could return to their home above his cobbler’s workshop, had made him compliant. Sassan had made light use of the seal to compel him. And the information he’d volunteered, that King Fiqitush’s magic held up the cavern Iram hid in, confirmed what his possessed hand had written: Find the king of the djinn in Iram. Kill him and Iram will fall.

  ‘May I join your aura to mine, High Magus?’ Tamraz said.

  This is God’s will, Sassan told himself. His bowels felt as if they were about to rebel.

  ‘Go ahead, Tamraz,’ he said, then braced himself.

  The pain he’d expected didn’t come. Sassan watched the daeva raise a destination window. Through it he saw a city swathed mostly in darkness. To his left he saw the outlines of buildings illuminated by light escaping from the windows of those surrounding them. Above the city, stars shone, which made little sense to Sassan. Iram, Tamraz had told him, was a city hidden underground. In the distance, something round gleamed. Sassan squinted and made out a golden dome illuminated by firestones arranged around its circumference at random intervals.

  Tamraz wove the boarding window, then fused the second window to the first to form a portal with a brown edge. That was when Sassan’s skin glowed and he felt as if every particle of himself had combusted.

  Instinct told him to take off the seal, cut off the supply of djinn auric energy flowing through his body and into his aura.

  His hand wouldn’t move. His mouth wouldn’t move either. All he could do was watch as the first of the fifteen men marched through the portal.

  He fought to remain lucid as his insides boiled. He screamed to himself, God is testing me. God is testing me.

  Heat rose from within him. His vision wavered and then blurred while the incursion into Iram continued.

  Sassan felt certain he no longer breathed, that liquid bubbled and sloshed inside his chest.

  My lungs have liquified.

  As if to confirm the thought, vertical streams of bubbles, no bigger than pinpricks, filled his vision. The occasional flash of brown from Tamraz’s portal hit the back of his eyes.

  His final thought was that, like his lungs, the insides of his eyeballs boiled.

  A colourless, soundless and odourless void surrounded him.

  A hand shook him. Sassan opened his eyes.

  ‘Huh? What?’

  Tamraz and General Afacan stood before him, both of them frowning. Sassan recognised fear on the daeva’s face and concern on the general’s. Beyond them lay empty ground: no guardsmen and magi, no portal.

  Sassan’s mouth and throat were parched. Otherwise, he might have cried out with relief.

  ‘Are you all right, High Magus?’ the general said.

  Sassan nodded.

  Tears filled his eyes. The pain of moving his head reminded him of the time his horse had bolted and he’d cricked his neck. Sassan cleared his throat.

  ‘I’ll return here at dawn to collect your men and my magi, General.’ Sassan’s voice sounded strangled. He turned his whole body so he could face the daeva. ‘Thank you, Tamraz.’

  The walk back to his tent was slow and agony-filled. Unable to control his muscles and endure the pain, he voided his bladder before he was halfway to his tent. Sassan hoped the darkness and limited torchlight hid the mishap, but he was in too much pain to care as he struggled to remain conscious.

  Sassan ignored the guards’ salute and stumbled into his tent. He’d forgotten he still held the sabaoth’s arrow until he tried to uncork the amphora. The arrow dropped onto the table with a clang. Sassan’s hands shook so much, he used his teeth to rip out the cork.

  From somewhere inside of him a voice issued a warning. If he were to kee
p his promise to the general, he’d have to be up in eight hours. The thought of Tamraz raising another two portals—one to Iram to collect the guardsmen and magi, and then another to return them to Arshak—made him bilious. He’d have to endure his insides liquifying another two times.

  Sassan ignored the warning and emptied the rest of the amphora’s contents into his mouth.

  21

  While Yesfir and Behrouz argued, Roshan tried to look anywhere but at them. She, together with the king and the prince, stood at the other end of the audience chamber to give the couple some space.

  Behrouz’s suggestion of not wearing his bracelet to avoid the seal’s influence had seemed like a good idea. But then the prince had said the rescue would take twice as long. Without his bracelet, Behrouz’s auric energy would quickly run out, forcing them to stick together and leaving Roshan the only one able to raise portals to Baka. Yesfir had argued that she should be the one to go with Roshan, because she stood a better chance of resisting the seal. When Solomon had used it on both of them, Behrouz had surrendered more of his auric energy than Yesfir.

  ‘They’re taking too long,’ the king said.

  Prince Emad’s eyes widened.

  ‘I’ll go.’

  The king’s attention flitted between Roshan and his brother.

  ‘Whoever goes with Roshan has to wear their bracelet,’ the king said.

  Roshan saw both brothers exchange a look.

  ‘Do you think those two can hear each other’s thoughts, like we can?’

  Navid’s head poked out of Roshan’s open satchel. She reached into it and pulled him out.

  ‘If they could, it might explain why the prince has been behaving so strangely.’

  ‘You’re needed in Baka,’ the king said.

  The prince shook his head.

  ‘You’re sending both of them, Fiqitush. Why not others?’

  The king straightened and folded his arms.

  ‘Not now, Emad. This isn’t the time to question my decision.’

  The prince rested his hands on his hips.

  ‘Before they leave is the perfect time.’

  The king shook his head and unfolded his arms.

  ‘How else would they learn what they’re capable of? I know how valuable they are to the djinn and daevas, but I won’t lock them away for safekeeping. Everyone’s busy with the evacuation. We need all the help we can get.’

  Navid twisted in Roshan’s hand as he tried to reach her forearm. He didn’t want to go back into her satchel.

  ‘Who are they talking about?’ he said. ‘Behrouz and Yesfir or us?’

  Roshan remembered her last visit to the king and how the prince wanted to send her and Navid off to some faraway place by ship.

  ‘The prince has behaved like this before, though I don’t know why.’

  ‘Ask him.’ Her brother sounded uncharacteristically angry. ‘We’re about to head into a camp filled with three thousand guardsmen, and everyone around us is arguing.’

  Nine hours earlier, an arrow had wounded Navid. It might have killed him, if Yesfir hadn’t rescued him. No wonder he was anxious.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said. ‘Who are you taking about? My brother and me’—she tilted her head at Behrouz and Yesfir—‘or them?’

  The king glowered at the prince.

  ‘Tell them,’ the king said.

  The prince’s expression, first incredulous, turned furious. Prince Emad shook his head vigorously, and Roshan thought he might hit the king.

  ‘All right, it’s decided,’ Behrouz called. ‘Roshan, let’s go.’

  She felt her brother’s interest piqued, and so was her own. The king and the prince were hiding something.

  ‘Tell us what?’ Roshan said.

  The prince stepped forward and away from his brother. He led her towards Yesfir and Behrouz.

  ‘We’ll talk when you both get back,’ he said. As if he shouldn’t have touched her, he pulled his hand away. ‘Concentrate on your mission and come back safely. No heroics—got that?’

  Back in Derbicca, when he’d insisted she and Yesfir return to Iram, he’d looked ready to murder her. What had changed? And why did he seem unsure of himself and uncomfortable around her?

  ‘Forget about it for now,’ Navid said. ‘He’s right: we need to concentrate on the mission.’ As they drew closer to the husband and wife, Navid sighed his relief. ‘It looks like Behrouz made the right decision.’

  The former daeva’s eyes blazed red.

  ‘He’s wearing his bracelet,’ Roshan said, sharing her brother’s relief.

  All she trusted herself to do was release the prisoners and herd them through a portal into Baka. If Behrouz had decided not to wear his bracelet and they ran into trouble, she’d have more than raising portals to keep her busy. Roshan wasn’t sure if she could curb her thoughts in a crisis.

  Before she could raise a portal, Yesfir hugged her and kissed her cheek. She kissed her fingertip and touched Navid between his ears.

  ‘Please be careful,’ she said. ‘If there’s any sign of trouble, raise a portal and get out of there.’ She glared at Behrouz. ‘And that means you, too.’

  Behrouz straightened his sword belt and then gave Yesfir a hug.

  ‘Both of you do as she says,’ the king said. ‘And Emad’s right: no heroics. Am I understood?’

  Behrouz bowed and Roshan nodded.

  Yesfir raised the portal. Roshan saw the prince wave, his face pale. Behrouz stepped through first.

  Roshan emerged behind a tall, rocky outcrop. Behrouz raised a dome of invisibility and silence large enough to accommodate them both.

  The encampment appeared brighter than she remembered. She’d last viewed it through a destination window an hour before. At this time of night, surely, someone would have given the order to extinguish some torches, not to light more of them. She shared her concern with Behrouz.

  ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘It seems brighter. Perhaps Armaiti warned the high magus.’

  The daevas’ capture had been her fault. They had to continue with the rescue.

  Her brother heard the thought.

  ‘If it’s impossible to mount a rescue,’ Navid said, ‘we shouldn’t stay.’

  She agreed, and then said to Behrouz, ‘If they’re expecting us, be ready to raise a portal and leave.’

  Behrouz beamed her a reassuring smile.

  ‘I will.’ He placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘If you’re uncertain about anything, return to Iram. If anything were to happen to you’—he pointed at his eyes and the flames surrounding his irises—‘others won’t get the second chance I’ve had.’

  She remembered the king’s words to his brother.

  I know how valuable they are to the djinn and daevas, but I won’t lock them away for safekeeping.

  She bent her head back to meet Behrouz’s gaze.

  ‘We have to try. I owe it to those daevas to at least find out if there’s a chance of freeing them.’

  Behrouz nodded.

  ‘Let’s go.’

  Roshan took two steps for every one of Behrouz’s. Halfway to the camp, she lifted Navid out of her satchel and let him climb onto her shoulder. They drew closer and Roshan’s certainty increased: they were expected. More torches had been lit, but those on guard duty hadn’t doubled or tripled. Could the trap set for them be waiting in or among the cluster of tents the prisoners were being kept in?

  ‘I’ll take a look before you get too close,’ Navid said.

  They skirted around the edge of the camp and saw a narrow corridor. It led to an open area and the cluster of five tents in which the daevas were being held. Roshan put out a hand to stop Behrouz from entering the corridor.

  ‘Navid will scout ahead,’ she said. Though they were inside a dome of invisibility and silence, she kept her voice low. She led Behrouz over to a shadowed area, lifted Navid from her shoulder and placed him on the sand.

  Roshan swallowed.

  ‘Be careful,’ she said. />
  Her brother scurried away and along the edge of a tent. The space between Roshan’s shoulders tightened.

  Behrouz sat down. He patted the ground next to him.

  ‘Standing is tiring and only frays my nerves.’

  She couldn’t imagine Behrouz getting nervous about anything. Roshan sat down among the shadows and waited.

  A pair of soldiers on guard duty passed them twice before she spotted movement from her right. Navid darted down the lit corridor between two tents. Anyone passing would have seen him. Roshan held her breath. She released it only when no one had raised the alarm.

  Navid stopped in front of them. He sniffed the air. Roshan had to remind herself they were invisible. She pushed her cupped hand through the dome. Navid backed away before jumping into it.

  No sooner was he in the dome than she experienced his distress.

  ‘Only two of the five tents are occupied,’ he said, and described their positions relative to the other three. ‘They’re mostly filled with the older daevas. I only saw one child. There are four daevas in one tent and five in the other.’

  She repeated his message to Behrouz, and then said, ‘What do we do?’

  Behrouz rubbed the back of his neck.

  ‘If the high magus is using the seal, he’ll want to coerce those who can maintain spells for longer than the older daevas. He’s filled those two tents with daevas he doesn’t want.’

  After hearing about the tent catching fire and the high magus threatening the son of the daeva he interrogated, Behrouz’s conclusion didn’t surprise Roshan.

  ‘Do you think they’ll spring a trap while we rescue them?’ she said.

  Behrouz ran his fingers through the sand, his brow creased.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘They’ll raise our confidence by letting us rescue those daevas first. Then we’ll go searching for the others. That’s when they’ll pounce.’

  ‘I’ll go see if there are other daevas beyond those tents,’ Navid said.

  Roshan passed on what Navid planned on doing. She spoke aloud to her brother.

  ‘Are you sure? If they’re expecting us, they’ll most likely be expecting one of us to be a rat.’