The Curse of Zohreh

by Sophie Masson

  ‘Will you speak with us?’ repeated Abdullah, his voice cracking this time, his hands shaking.

  Silence. And then Soheila, her hair standing on end, her hands suddenly growing icy, heard an ominous cracking sound. The red headstone rocked, the sand at its base opened, and something flowed out of the sudden, yawning darkness underneath – something whose form and features could not at first be properly discerned for it was clothed in a kind of clinging grey mist, but whose very presence was wrong, oppressive, terrifying. With the apparition came a terrible stink – a cloying, horrible thing that seemed to sink into Soheila’s very pores, making her feel unclean, defiled, breathless with horror and disgust. And then came the voice, and somehow that was far worse than anything. It was a woman’s voice, sweet and musical on the surface, but with a depth of darkness and evil in it that was unlike anything Soheila could ever have imagined.

  ‘Who disturbs the burial place of Kassim?’ The clinging grey mist shook and shimmered, the form behind it beginning slowly, slowly to take shape. Meanwhile, Abdullah, Khaled and Husam stood rigid, apparently quite unable to move, just like Soheila. Kareen Amar seemed unaffected, for it was she who replied.

  ‘You know very well who it is, Grabber,’ she said harshly. ‘You also know very well that for them to speak to you their names would give you power over them. But it is I, Kareen Amar, songstress of the Jinn, ancient and wild spirit of much higher rank than your worm-ridden sort of vile ghoul, who does call on you now, and puts you under the binding of our kind: you must answer one question, honestly, and without any tricks.’

  The Grabber shrieked, ‘Kareen Amar! I have heard of you. You are a deceiver and a traitor to our kind, a lover of corrupt humanity.’

  ‘Say what you like, Grabber,’ said Kareen Amar coldly. ‘You have no power over me. Now, I bind you to answer one question these people will pose to you. You know that unless you want to follow Iblis into Jehannem, you must answer it.’

  ‘One only then,’ shrieked the voice, sweet no longer, but horrid with vile, disappointed fury. The mist cleared and Soheila found herself staring down at a horrible creature, more horrible than anything she could have imagined, far worse than her ancestor’s ghost in the mirror. The ghoul had a hyena’s ugly head and bone-cracking jaws, from the corners of which blood-flecked spittle ran; raised, stiff hair on its shoulders; and, horrifyingly, a woman’s slender body, clothed in gauzy grey robes, from under which long, hideous clawed feet peered. The ghoul’s hands, though delicate and long-fingered, ended in curved yellow claws, and these were extended longingly towards Kareen Amar as it turned its ugly head to stare at her companions. Abdullah and Husam each placed a hand on Khaled’s shoulders, framing him, holding him desperately within their own warmth. It was all they could do.

  The ghoul known as the Grabber moved slowly, in a jerky motion, towards Husam, Khaled and Abdullah, its hyena’s eyes glowing with a pale, cold yellow fire. As it moved, the death-stink intensified with every step. For the first time, Soheila felt pity and even a certain reluctant admiration for the men and boy below, having to stand there and let that thing come close to them. She knew that if it had been her facing it directly, looking into its eyes, she would not have been able to resist the temptation to run away. She could only imagine what it cost them to stand unmoving in the face of the creature. What she didn’t know was that at least for Khaled, it was actually impossible to move. He was beyond fear, beyond terror, numb and paralysed, the only trace of warmth Husam’s hand on one shoulder, his father’s on the other.

  ‘Well?’ said the ghoul. Kareen Amar moved a little closer to the men. The Grabber’s eyes flashed. ‘Keep a distance, Kareen Amar,’ it said, and its pink, whip-thin tongue flicked out of its mouth like a snake. ‘Keep a distance, and let them speak for themselves.’

  It hovered over the men and the boy, its feet scratching at the sand. ‘You wanted to speak to Kassim, but he cannot answer. He is far from your speech. He is in the realm of Iblis, Lord of Jehannem.’ The pale eyes glowed with a horrible amusement. ‘He is not a lord there, let me assure you, oh kinsmen of Kassim.’

  Shayk Abdullah opened his mouth, but no words came out. It was Husam who spoke, disdainfully. ‘We know where Kassim is.’

  ‘You know where Kassim is. Very well,’ said the Grabber, and its wide jaws parted, in a horrible parody of a smile. ‘Of course, it must be such a comfort to his kinsmen to know that he is amongst the damned of Jehannem, and to know that he can never seek the pardon of the one he destroyed so treacherously, so no way is there to efface the curse through him. Now, ask your question.’

  Soheila’s heart burned with angry joy. That would tell them! Then she saw a shadow of triumph, quickly suppressed, pass over the faces of Husam and Abdullah, and knew that the ghoul had, without realising it, already answered one unspoken question. Reluctant admiration seized her again, though she tried hard to thrust it from her. She would never have had the guile and presence of mind to trick the ghoul and obtain extra information in the way Husam had, by a simple statement. She did not care to look too much at Khaled’s face, his staring eyes and his extreme pallor. There could be no room for pity.

  ‘You want to hear our question,’ said Husam flatly.

  ‘Yes!’ shrieked the ghoul. ‘Ask it, ask it! No, not you, Jinn-friend,’ it growled, regarding Husam with sudden suspicion. ‘One of the other ones, the kinsmen. They are the ones who should ask.’ Its wicked eyes rolled, fixing on Khaled, who seemed to stagger and was only stopped from falling by Husam gripping his arm and supporting him.

  Abdullah had gone very pale. But he moved forward, shielding Khaled from the ghoul’s gaze with his body. His voice hardly trembled at all as he said, ‘This then is my question: who among the Jinn can help the curse of Zohreh to be lifted from our house?’

  The ghoul gave a sharp laugh. ‘Could not your tame Jinn tell you? Only the Recorder of the Emerald Mountain of Kaf may annul such a curse permanently.’

  ‘This is useless knowledge,’ scoffed Kareen. ‘Everyone knows that the Recorder of the Emerald Mountain of Kaf is one of the oldest and most powerful of all the Jinn, and records all the curses and wishes of mankind. But you know very well, Grabber, that she has rarely been known to annul a curse. And it is very difficult for a human to speak with her unscathed. So your answer is useless. It does not count. You have not answered the question at all.’

  The ghoul’s face twisted horrifyingly. ‘You don’t know anything, desert spirit!’ it shrieked. ‘I walk in the world of the dead, and I know such things have very occasionally happened. If a child of the house of Zohreh willingly gives the treasure of their house to a child of the house of Kassim, then there might be a chance. But still they will have to find the Emerald Mountain, and that is impossible, for they do not know how to find the way to it.’ It hovered right in front of Abdullah, sending its stinking breath into his face. ‘Now, I have answered that question. You likely have more. Come on, ask. Would you like to know how the Emerald Mountain may be reached?’

  ‘We do not need to ask you,’ cut in Kareen scornfully. ‘I will find out.’

  ‘You are wrong,’ said the ghoul, shrieking with laughter now. ‘It is a place only the dead, and those that walk with them, may go to unscathed.’ It hovered closer. ‘Come, ask me more! Oh, old man, come here and ask me a question, ask me the way, ask me the way. Ask me another question, ask me, for I crave sweet live flesh.’ It loomed above them, its gaze fixed on Khaled, who fell to the ground. Husam and Abdullah immediately knelt beside him, shielding him with their bodies and their hands. Kareen leapt forward, placing herself between the ghoul and the humans. She lifted her head to the heavens and sang a single note – sweet, piercing and tuneful. And then it seemed to the terrified Soheila that a form, bright as noon, with great wings sprouting from its shoulders and a face so beautiful it could hardly be described, suddenly stood beside the Jinn.

  ‘Back, Grabber,’ said Kareen in a stentorian voice, ‘back, in the name of He wh
o made all. Back! You will not trap these humans into asking you a forbidden second question. These are not your rightful prey, and you have no call on them, as you well know. The Shining Ones are at my side, so you must fall back, Grabber, back into the darkness where you belong.’ And she began to sing again. Her song was taken up by another deep, sweet voice, producing a music of such ravishing, warm, thrilling intensity that it made Soheila, frozen with awe and terror on her branch, feel the life rushing back redly into her veins.

  The ghoul gave one bloodcurdling howl and vanished, as if the sand had swallowed it. Kareen, still singing, gestured to the men to move back towards the gate. As they reached it, Soheila saw Kareen incline her head towards the shining form at her side, once, twice, three times. She did not wait to see more. Her heart pounding, she climbed swiftly down the tree and ran, head down, dodging behind the low dunes, until she emerged, not far from the car. She could see the driver had come out and was standing with his back to her, looking at the gate in the mud wall. Now or never! She ran out from the shelter of the dunes, and was just about to reach the car when Abdullah, Husam, Khaled and Kareen emerged from the cemetery. The men, preoccupied with Khaled, who appeared deeply distressed, did not notice Soheila.

  But Kareen saw her at once. In one bound, it seemed, the Jinn was on her, rolling with her on the sand, then hauling her up by the scruff of the neck.

  ‘Little sneak! What are you doing here?’ hissed Kareen, dangerously low, her glowing eyes fixed on Soheila’s blue ones. Soheila could smell the Jinn’s peculiar scent – like hot iron – and her heart nearly failed her, but she managed to say, low and unsteady, ‘Nothing. I was just resting – sleeping – near the car – I saw you coming back and I thought I’d better get back in.’

  Kareen took no notice of these protests, and dragged her back to Husam, Abdullah and Khaled. They stared, astonished, at the kitchen boy dangling from Kareen’s hand. ‘What on earth –’ began Husam. ‘Payem, what are you doing here?’

  Soheila was about to say something when Khaled raised his head and looked at her. There was something in his eyes that troubled her, something she didn’t quite understand. It suddenly made her feel uncertain, and for one baffling moment, she wished she could tell him everything. Then the moment passed and she hardened her heart again. ‘I must be careful,’ she thought. ‘I must be careful. He will be suspicious of me.’

  Kareen shook her, none too gently. ‘He stowed away, didn’t you, little thief?’

  ‘I am not a thief,’ said Payem, looking away from Khaled’s intense gaze. ‘I – I – just wanted to feel what it was like to ride in a car like this – I’ve always dreamt –’

  ‘This is the boy I told you about, who got us passage on the Eagle to come across the gulf,’ said Husam to Abdullah. Turning to Payem, he said, ‘So I presume you did get a job as a kitchen boy, child?’

  Every moment, Soheila was expecting Khaled to say that she’d been snooping in the library, and had hidden behind the curtain when they came in, and heard what Bikaj had said. But he said nothing. Only once, his gaze fell on her again, then he whispered, ‘I’ll just go and sit in the car, Father. No, I am fine now, Father. I’d just like to go and sit down.’ He walked a little unsteadily away from them, got in the car and shut the door. Soheila felt the slam of it like a reproach, though she had no idea why.

  Kareen wasn’t finished with her. ‘What did you see, little sneak?’

  ‘Nothing – nothing –’ stammered Payem. ‘I saw you go into the cemetery but why would I want to follow? I am scared of such places.’ He gave a most convincing shudder, and fell on his knees before Abdullah. ‘Forgive me, my lord. It was wrong and wicked of me to do this, but I only meant to see what it was like in the car. I do love these cars, sir. I thought you were just going for a nice drive in the desert. But I don’t like cemeteries, they frighten me half to death. I just stayed by the car here, and rested.’

  ‘I think it’s unlikely the child watched,’ said Abdullah. ‘I do not think he would have been able to keep silent or unmoving in the face of the – what was in there – unless he has extraordinary powers for a boy of his age. You saw what it did to Khaled.’

  ‘Still,’ said Kareen, ‘it would be best if you dismissed this boy from your employ at once. I don’t like sneaks.’

  ‘Oh, please, no sir, have mercy, please.’ Payem threw himself before Abdullah. Tears filled his eyes. ‘I have nothing – no-one – I was foolish – but I promise, sir, I promise I will never do it again. Please give me another chance.’

  There was a tense silence. Then Abdullah shook his head. ‘I do not like to take bread from the mouths of needy children,’ he said. ‘Payem,’ he went on, ‘get up. Look at me.’ The child did so. ‘You should not have come with us without permission. It was very wrong of you.’

  ‘I know, sir,’ said Payem, eyes still swimming with tears. ‘I am very sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.’

  ‘Perhaps you shouldn’t be working in the kitchens, but in the garages,’ said Abdullah, a little sharply, his eyes searching Payem’s face.

  Hardly daring to breathe, Payem said, ‘I – I like working in the kitchens, sir. It’s just that I’ve not seen cars as big as this before. We don’t have ones like this where I come from. I could not help it.’

  Abdullah smiled suddenly. ‘Very well, Payem. Let’s stop worrying about this, eh?’ He turned to Husam and Kareen. ‘Surely we have more to think about than castigating a silly, innocent child for liking cars too much.’ He beckoned to Omar, who was standing some distance away. ‘Have the goodness to inform whoever one should inform that this child was asked to come with us, to serve our food. I do not wish him to be in trouble in the kitchens.’

  ‘Very good, sir,’ said Omar, not seeming surprised by his master’s request. But Soheila was not only surprised; she was also dismayed and disturbed. Nothing was as she had expected. She felt a great confusion of mind and heart. Why couldn’t things be simple? Why couldn’t there have been even more reason to hate the al-Farouks? Why couldn’t they have been unkind or even cruel to her? Then she could have felt no doubt at all. She was afraid of the confusion that raced through her mind now, afraid of what it might mean. On the long weary journey to the palace she sat huddled in the back of the car, mind whirling, stomach churning, not daring to say a word or hardly make a move, under the suspicious scrutiny of the Jinn, who kept throwing glares at her from the rear-vision mirror. But Khaled never looked at her during the whole trip, and Soheila found that disturbed her almost as much as the Jinn’s scrutiny.

  Fifteen

  All that afternoon and evening, Soheila worked hard in the kitchens, trying to numb herself. She could not allow herself to become weak just because the al-Farouks had showed kindness to her. She must take care to keep out of their way lest she falter in her task. She must not think of how terrible it was that she had to act treacherously, in secret. She had to remember that the al-Farouk ease and kindness were built on the bones and blood of her ancestor. She had to remember Kassim’s guilt and the way, unacknowledged and unpunished, it had gone down the generations so that even that kind old man and his son were responsible, somehow. She had to remember that an avenger must harden her heart, must banish from it all human softness and uncertainty.

  But revenge was no longer an abstract thing to her. She could picture it now, in horrid detail: herself, knife in hand, creeping up on the kind, crippled old Shayk or on gentle, handsome Khaled as they lay in their beds. She could imagine the red blood running, the betrayed look on their faces as they recognised their attacker. It was a horrible picture to her, though she most earnestly did not want it to be. She had spent so much of her life hating this family; she had spent so much of her life wishing to take revenge for the memory of her wronged ancestor. And yet here she was now like a soft fool, heartsick because of a picture in her mind, a picture of something she hadn’t even done yet. ‘Maybe,’ she thought, ‘I needn’t kill them, only harm them greatly in some way.’
But it seemed unlikely that would be Zohreh’s wish. The ghost of her ancestor wanted blood for blood. It had to be done. How, she wasn’t sure. She had to wait for the ghost to tell her. She would have to get back into the library tonight and try again to speak to it. But the thought made her shudder deep inside.

  As she worked in the kitchen, the beginnings of an answer to her painful dilemma started to come to her. Maybe the way to harm the family was to find out what Zohreh’s curse was exactly, and manouevre it so that it would come true. Then it would not be her but fate – Zohreh’s curse – that would destroy them, and she would be free of this oppressive sense of guilt and shame.

  She needed inside information, not from staff, but from within the centre of the house itself. She had to somehow pacify Khaled’s doubts about her, perhaps even persuade him that she was a friend. He had been interested in the fact she might be an Akamenian; he might think she had information for him. She would pretend she did, and that way find out how the curse was to operate. Then she would watch and listen, and see if she could help it along. The thought cheered her up considerably. It made her feel as if she was doing something towards her mission, and less as if she was an abject failure, unworthy of Zohreh’s memory, quailing in front of those burning, forceful eyes. Yes! She could face Zohreh’s ghost tonight, fortified by her new resolution.

  Kareen Amar was restless and anxious. Time was running out. She could feel the threat gathering. She could sense Zohreh’s presence in the palace, getting stronger by the hour, though she could not see her. The ghoul was right. Only a few Jinns, and mostly wicked ones, have contact with the dead, for the cold world of shadows douses the living fire that is their essence. Nevertheless, she could feel the Akamenian’s ghostly presence, and it worried her. Kareen was not at all sure she would be able to face an encounter with Zohreh’s ghost but she must plan for it. She must get help from a Jinn who did have contact with the dead. And of course it must not be from a ghoul.