Blessings from Ashes

by Megan Linski

  Zahid stiffens. He coughs, and says, “Yes. You’re right. Goodnight, Bennua.”

  He turns away from me, on his side. My suspicion is instantly roused.

  “Oh, no. You’re doing it again,” I say.

  “Doing it? Doing what?” Zahid plays dumb.

  “Pretending that you’re fine when you’re really hiding something from me because you don’t want to hurt my feelings.” I sit up and raise an eyebrow. “What’s on your mind?”

  Zahid sighs. He turns over onto his back again, and says, “About… Tajdid Alnaar…”

  “Yes?”

  “Please don’t get mad.”

  “I won’t get mad.”

  “You will get mad.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “Promise?”

  “Of course!” I grab his shoulder and shake it. “Tell me!”

  Zahid holds his breath. Then, very quickly, he mutters, “I don’t think we should take part in the couples’ ceremonies during the holiday season this year.”

  “What?” My mind goes blank. “Why not? It’ll be the first year we can.”

  “I… I don’t really feel comfortable participating in them, to be honest,” he says, somewhat nervously. “I don’t really like celebrating the holidays.”

  “You… don’t?”

  He turns on his side, to face me. In his eyes is nothing but honesty. “No. And to tell you the truth… I hate Tajdid Alnaar.”

  Zahid’s words hit me like an elephant dropped from the sky.

  He hates Tajdid Alnaar.

  My husband hates my favorite holiday.

  He doesn’t want to participate.

  I think I’m going to have a crisis.

  “But…” I stutter. “But why? How… how could you hate—”

  “Oh, by Alshams, you’re horrified,” he says. He looks scared of me. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”

  “No. No, it’s fine.” I stumble to recover myself.

  “You’re getting mad.” He points at me. “You promised you wouldn’t.”

  I hold my breath for a moment. “Fine. Fine, I’m not mad.” Slowly, I recover. “But, truly, how could you hate Tajdid Alnaar?”

  Zahid shifts. He puts the pillow under his arm and says, “When I was a boy, you know as well as I do Qdis Amaan didn’t come to my house to deliver presents. My mother couldn’t afford that type of thing. We barely had enough to eat as it was. The fast was daily life for us, not something we experienced once a year. She always felt bad we couldn’t celebrate like normal people. Tajdid Alnaar just became another way for my mother to feel like she’d failed.”

  “She didn’t fail. She loved you.”

  “I know she didn’t. I told her I didn’t care about Tajdid Alnaar, but up until the moment she died I knew she regretted never being able to give me the great holiday she wanted.” Zahid sighs. “I’ve never had a good Tajdid Alnaar. The ones after she died were even worse. I was usually alone, or struggling to provide for my people. The best holiday I’ve ever had was the one I celebrated last year with you.”

  “But that wasn’t even as good as it can be,” I argue. “We had to throw it together because I became queen last year. We actually have the time to enjoy it. I loved Tajdid Alnaar when I was growing up. It was so special.”

  Quietly, I add, “It was the only time of year that my family wasn’t fighting.”

  “And I know how important that is to you, and it would be wrong of me to take that away,” he says. “But I ask that you not force me to do things that I don’t want to.”

  I open my mouth to respond before I quickly shut it. I’ve been looking forward to this for months— Tajdid Alnaar’s been the one bright spot in my life keeping me cheerful ever since Rukuh left Haya-Maa.

  But how can I ask Zahid to celebrate the holidays with me when he has such horrible memories of it? I cannot. It would hurt him, and that I will not do.

  “I’ll still participate in the fast, and the feast, as I know those are obligations. You don’t have to worry,” Zahid says quickly. “I’ll still get you a present.”

  “I don’t care about presents,” I argue. By Alshams, this is a nightmare. “But I am sad. I just want you to have a good holiday.”

  “I will. Once it’s over,” he says.

  What a horrible answer. It makes me depressed.

  Zahid notices the look on my face. He gives me another kiss, and says, “Don’t be upset. I’ll do what I can to make this a good holiday for you. Don’t worry about me— I don’t want anything.”

  He lays back down, and turns over to go to sleep. I flop backwards onto my back and stare at the ceiling, thinking.

  I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night and Zahid knows it, but he doesn’t mention it that morning when we get up. It’s the first fasting day of Tajdid Alnaar.

  The holiday Zahid hates.

  “Do you still wear that coat?” I ask as we get dressed, wrinkling my nose in disgust. Zahid has owned that coat since I’ve known him, and probably years before that. He keeps it clean, but it’s frayed and falling apart. It irritates me when he wears it.

  “It suits me well, and is comfortable. I do not need anything fancy. It still functions.”

  Zahid pulls on the coat and another hole rips in the sleeve. I close my eyes, willing patience.

  He looks at the hole. “Very well. I suppose I must have a new coat. I’ll have to order one tonight.”

  “I will do it,” I quickly volunteer. “Don’t bother yourself.”

  He gives me a suspicious look. “As you request, my queen.”

  Zahid fastens the buttons on his coat and says, “Will you come with me on a morning ride? It’s beautiful out. Not too hot or cold.”

  Normally, I would say yes… I love morning rides on Ahmar… but right now I’m not in the mood. Yet I don’t want Zahid to think he’s upset me.

  “Go ahead and get the horses ready,” I say. “I’ll follow along in a moment.”

  Zahid tilts his head before he decides it best to give me a moment. “Very well. I’ll be waiting.”

  Zahid leaves the room. All the air in the room goes with him.

  “Hello!” a whiny, high-pitched voice comes from below me. “Let me out of here!”

  Poor Shadi is still locked inside the trunk. We forgot about him— he’s been trapped inside all night. I unlock it and set his lamp on the side table.

  The moment his lamp is put down, Shadi comes furling out of it. His clothes and hair are askew. He looks positively mad.

  “My house is a mess! What were you two doing, going it at it all night?” he gasps.

  “Basically.” I shrug and head over to the window. “Sorry we forgot about you.”

  “I hate it when you two lock me in the trunk,” Shadi whines. “You know I can’t get out of there.”

  “I apologize, but you’re too valuable to leave lying around. You must stay with us, but sometimes Zahid and I want privacy.”

  “Sometimes!” Shadi bursts. “I could just buy earplugs, you know.”

  “I don’t trust you to use them.” I put my chin in my hand and stare out the window listlessly. My stomach growls with the hunger of the fast.

  As if it even matters.

  “You seem more melancholy than usual,” Shadi offers, coming around my side. “What’s wrong?”

  “Zahid hates Tajdid Alnaar,” I say sadly. “He doesn’t want to celebrate the holidays this year.”

  “That is unfortunate. I know the Raider Prince isn’t the most pleasant person to be around, but I didn’t think he was such a Scrooge.” Shadi makes a face.

  “What’s a Scrooge?”

  “It’s a djinn thing,” Sahdi waves it off. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  I tap my fingers against my cheek. I don’t know what it means, but Scrooge seems like the perfect word to describe Zahid.

  “You really are taking this personally, aren’t you?” Shadi asks.

  “Yes!” I yell. “Is it too much to ha
ve one thing go right around here? Everything’s supposed to be wonderful and happy and perfect around the holidays, and now it’s a mess again!”

  “That’s a bit overdramatic, don’t you think?” Shadi asks. He raises his eyebrows. “It’s just Tajdid Alnaar.”

  “It’s not ‘just’ Tajdid Alnaar,” I say, deepening my voice and mocking him. “By Alshams, you’re as bad as he is.”

  “Hey, I like Tajdid Alnaar!” he argues. “The feast is my favorite part!”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “Don’t be an ass.” Shadi’s face sours. “What are you supposed to do? You can’t force your husband to have a great time. Just let him be. Enjoy the holidays by yourself.”

  With Shadi’s words, it hits me. I have the perfect solution. My husband might not see how great the holidays are, but I’ll make him see it.

  “Oh no,” Shadi says. “I see that look. Please don’t tell me you have an idea.”

  “I have an idea. Zahid has had nothing but horrible holidays,” I say quickly. “The only way to make it right is to give him the perfect holiday!”

  “Bennua—"

  “I’ll give him the best Tajdid Alnaar ever!” I say victoriously. I turn around and raise a fist into the air. “This holiday will be so amazing, so incredible, he’ll have no choice but to love it!”

  “Didn’t you hear a word he said?” Shadi asks bluntly. “He doesn’t want to participate!”

  “He won’t have to,” I say breathlessly. “I’ll shower him with so much holiday goodness that he literally won’t be able to not love it by the time the new year comes. Shadi, you are a genius.”

  “Oh, by Alshams.” Shadi slaps himself in the face. “You’re not going to make me help you, are you?”

  When he notices the devilish grin on my face, Shadi groans once again. “Of course you are. Merry Tajdid Alnaar to me.”

  The next day I begin a whirl of preparations. Yesterday I wasn’t able to do anything, as the first day of Tajdid Alnaar is reserved for rest and prayer— no work. Zahid and I spent our day enjoying each other and lounging around. It was quite the perfect day.

  Well… except for one thing.

  There’s temple services on the morning of the first day of Tajdid Alnaar, and on the midnight before the last. Zahid didn’t show up to the service yesterday. I have no idea where he was, seeing as how the whole sultanate is basically expected to be there. He’s never come to temple services with me before, but seeing as how it’s a holiday I got my hopes up that he’d come.

  I got quite a few curious glances when I arrived alone for the ceremonies. I promised Zahid I wouldn’t push him, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. I lied that he was tired from his trip and left it at that.

  But today… today is the second day of Tajdid Alnaar. I finally get to set my plan in motion.

  “All right, Shadi,” I say as we enter the throne room. “To start, I’m going to need you to give me the biggest, best, most elaborate Tajdid Alnaar tree you can possibly conjure.”

  Palm trees are hard to find in the desert— anything green is. Most people go without trees during the holidays for this very reason, choosing to put presents underneath beds instead. Even my father rarely had one.

  Thankfully, I have a djinn on my side. I lock all the doors so nobody will catch Shadi and I doing magic— the rest of the servants are busy decorating the palace in the way I requested. Save for the southern door, which I leave unlocked just in case one of Shadi’s disasters forces us to run, nobody can get in or out.

  “Do we have time for this? The Raider Prince could walk in at any moment,” Shadi points out.

  “I got rid of him. I sent him to pick out horses and organize the parade,” I say. “He won’t be back until tonight.”

  And by that time, Shadi and I will have turned the palace into a wonderland. Zahid’s going to be so surprised.

  “Whatever you say, my queen.” Shadi waves his hands, and before my eyes materializes a palm tree in a red and green pot that reaches to the top of the staircase.

  “Shadi,” I say blatantly. “What is that?”

  “What the hell does it look like?” he asks, gesturing to it. “It’s a tree, Bennua!”

  “It’s tiny!” I argue, pointing at it. “I asked for a big tree, not a… little thing like that!”

  “That is a big tree!” Shadi rebukes. “Bigger than most.”

  “No. It doesn’t work.” I shake my head. “Trust me.”

  Shadi sighs. He raises his hands and the tree sprouts taller until it’s hanging over the staircase.

  “How about now?” Shadi asks, glancing back at me. Sweat has beaded on his brow.

  “Bigger!” I say. I spread my arms out wide and jump up and down to emphasize.

  “Oh, by Alshams.” Shadi takes a deep breath and his face turns pink. He makes a big swooping motion with his hips and waves his arms in a circle. This time, the tree grows more, and more, but it doesn’t stop when it reaches the ceiling. It curls over, the trunk widening and the leafy top drifting slowly to the floor.

  “That’s it! Now you’re getting it!” I say enthusiastically.

  “I can’t make it stop!” Shadi screams. The palm leaves encompass him as the tree reaches the ground and curls upward again, growing once more toward the ceiling. Shadi gives a wail.

  “Okay, wait for it… wait… okay, stop,” I say. Miraculously, the tree stops growing at my command. “That’s just right. Thanks, Shadi.”

  Shadi clambers out from the palm tree, drops to the floor, and looks up. His mouth hangs open. “Bennua, you can’t be serious.”

  “Just leave it,” I say, waving my hand. “It’s perfect.”

  “If you say so,” Shadi says, leaning away from the tree. It’s like he’s scared of it.

  “Now for the decorations.” I close my eyes, and envision it. “Ribbons of red hanging off the staircase, and lanterns that glow green. Golden statues of camels, and djinn and other creatures. Oh, and a crystal fountain in the shape of mala’ika wings!”

  “Anything else?” Shadi asks sarcastically.

  “Hand painted glass ornaments to decorate the tree with,” I say, and I bat my eyelashes. “Please?”

  “You should’ve saved your wishes for this,” Shadi grumbles. He waves his hands again and everything I asked for appears within the throne room, until it looks like a desert paradise instead of a palace, complete with the sparkling red ribbons and the green lanterns that I asked for. It sets the entire scene with a Tajdid Alnaar glow.

  “How about that?” Shadi asks. I turn in a circle, and put a finger to my lips as I observe.

  “It’s… almost right,” I say, and Shadi groans.

  “What now?” he asks.

  “That ribbon up there is crooked,” I say. I point to it, attached to a corner of the ceiling. “Can you straighten it out?”

  “I don’t have any more magic,” he complains. “You’ve exhausted it.”

  “Well, go upstairs and fix it the old-fashioned way,” I say, gesturing toward it.

  “What’s wrong with you? You have legs!”

  I give him a look, and he sighs again. “Fine. Yes, fine, whatever you say, my queen.”

  Shadi climbs the stairs, whimpering and whining. The ribbon is up at the topmost corner, so he has to stand on the edge of the bannister to adjust it.

  “I hope you’ll get me a good present for this!” he calls down. He’s wavering back and forth on the bannister, making me uneasy— Shadi isn’t the most well-balanced, to say the least.

  “I already got your present months ago, as I did everyone else’s,” I say. “The only person who I don’t have a present for yet is Zahid. His I still have to finish.”

  “You… ugh… make all the presents?”

  “Yes. I usually— a little to the right— I usually sew them. They take weeks.”

  “You really get into Tajdid Alnaar, don’t you?” Shadi asks.

  “Of course I do. It’s
only the holiday of all holidays.” I close my one eye, and bite my tongue between my teeth. “A little to the left.”

  Shadi grunts as he adjusts the ribbon higher. “I’d figure you’d have your husband’s done first.”

  “His is the most complicated, plus it took me a long time to decide what to make him,” I say. “He never asks or wants for anything.”

  “Even so, I— agh!”

  Shadi slips. He grabs onto the ribbon and falls off the bannister, until he’s hanging by nothing but the thick fabric dangling from the ceiling.

  “Shadi!” I cry. I run underneath him and throw my arms up, willing to catch him before I realize how stupid this is. He’s a fully-grown djinn and I’m a very small woman, not to mention he’s carrying a little extra weight. He’ll smush me if he comes down.

  “AHH!” Shadi cries, and the ribbon comes loose. I do the smart thing and get out of the way; Shadi goes swinging from one end of the ceiling to the other, flailing like a fish. Glass shatters and decorations are torn down as his legs kick wildly.

  “Shadi, stop it! You’re ruining the decorations!” I whine as he smashes into the golden camel. He shatters it, along with the crystal fountain.

  “Help me!” Shadi cries as he comes swinging back down from the other side. I jump up to grab him, but miss as he picks up speed.

  “What’s going on in here?” a familiar voice asks, and a pit forms in my gut. Zahid comes through the southern doorway (a big mistake for him) and Shadi comes careening down and slams right into him, knocking him to the floor.

  I forgot two crucial details when sending Zahid to organize the parade; one, that he doesn’t care about it, and two, that he’s a man. He probably looked at everything and told them it was fine, whereas I would’ve speculated every tiny detail.

  I should’ve sent him out drinking instead.

  “Get off me, you big buffoon!” Zahid yells. He shoves Shadi away and climbs to his feet. His mouth drops open, but it’s not in the way I wanted it to.

  The entire throne room is ruined. Most of the decorations Shadi destroyed while he was swinging around, except for the tree. Even worse, Shadi has no more magic, so the rest of my day is going to be spent cleaning this up.