by E. M. Hardy
Whatever the cause was, the cartels knew enough to set an ambush for Suhaib’s party. When—if—he made it back home, he could already picture his father droning on and on. Ah-ah, Suhaib, you foolish son! Ah-ah, Suhaib, I told you this was a fool’s errand! Ah-ah, Suhaib, you should listen to your mother more!
The young prince gnashed his teeth as he tipped his waterskin into the mouth of his friend, Faadi. The injured trader sputtered for a bit, wasting a few precious drops, but soon drank a mouthful of the tepid water.
“Thank you, young prince, but I fear you’re going to face a mutiny if you don’t share some of that water with our parched friends over there.”
“Shut up, you old goat. We’re all tired and dirty, but we’re all in one piece. You’re the one who needs water, with you bleeding all over the place.”
“Bah. Soft-hearted little prat. You should have left me back in the sands.”
“Don’t listen to the old man, my prince,” said the leader of the armsmasters, Munjid, when he finished tending to the others. The muscled man leaned back and gave the prince a friendly pat on the back. “We need but wait a few hours until dusk. When the sun sets down, we’ll try to make it back to the roads. Hopefully we’ll meet travelers who will be generous enough to share some of their supplies.”
The prince nodded and put on a brave face, but all three men knew that they were in deep, deep trouble.
Their spiritual guardians, their jinn, had alerted them to the ambush and helped avoid it, but then they had found themselves being surprised by a second group. The magical support of the jinn and the unmatched skills of the armsmaster guarding Prince Suhaib were enough to beat back both groups, inflicting enough casualties to give their pursuers enough of a pause to shake them off their trail. In the end though, they had still found themselves in a fighting retreat. Worse still was how they had to abandon the camels carrying most of their supplies for the trek into the mountains. Without the food and water, their expedition was all but dead. All their pursuers had to do was harass them, prevent them from reaching the main roads, and the elements would finish off Suhaib’s party for them. Days of running eventually ate into their dwindling supplies, and they had to hide in the shadows of sandstone rocks to rest and recuperate. Their foremost concern was water though, an issue that became far more urgent as the prince wrung out the last drops from their last waterskin.
The three men were so lost in their thoughts, wracking their brains for possible solutions, that they didn’t notice the strange little orb descending from above. Suddenly, Prince Suhaib’s jinni burst forth from the Invisible World, her sheer dress twinkling in the shadow of the sandstone rocks and her veil shimmering in its redness as she put herself between the threat and her bonded partner. Spells began forming in both her hands; one a concentrated ball that sucked up nearby sand to later blast with, the other a sphere that drew in light that would blind and disorient her foes when released all at once.
“Suhaib! Get your head out of your ass and look UP!”
Everyone in the group jumped up with a start as other jinn began manifesting themselves into reality. The armsmasters chose their bows while their jinn sported ephemeral armor and protected them with shields and swords of their own. The caravan guards drew their own swords while their jinn did likewise. The guides and the laborers, however, fell back behind the others. The magics of their jinn were more suited to their work, refreshing them and helping them see things they would normally miss, but it was the fighters and their jinn that were needed now. Even the prince readied his own spells, preparing one to shift the earth and strike where he wanted it to.
The strange little orb backed up, away from the reach of the guards’ weapons and the spells of the jinn. It then hovered in place, its crystalline eye seemingly ‘blinking’ a few times as it tried to focus. Tensions rose as the men glowered at the sphere, which remained motionless in the air.
“What is that thing, Uhi?”
The prince’s jinni squirmed uncomfortably, the spells in her hands trembling in barely-controlled power. “I… I don’t know, Suhaib. It is nothing I have ever seen before.”
“Anyone know what that thing is?” murmured the prince, keeping his sight squarely on the orb without turning his head or moving the rest of his body.
No one said anything as they kept their weapons up and ready, their eyes intensely focused on the flying object.
A few anxious moments passed before the orb seemed to shiver and buzz. Everyone tensed up once more, their grips tightening around the hilts and shafts of their weapons, yet they continued to hold their positions.
The sphere wiggled once, twice, thrice, before a crackling sound came from within it. Soon enough, it began spouting gibberish. It was a language that the young prince had never encountered before. It was not the dialect of the tribes around the Ma’an Emirate, nor was it one from the other emirates bordering his father’s. In fact, it was not a language that he recognized at all.
It was at that moment that Prince Suhaib Ma’an, sixth in line to the throne of the Ma’an Emirate, knew that he had found what he was looking for.
“Wait! All of you, put down your weapons and spells!” He started it by defusing the spells in his hands, dissipating the energies and lulling the stone back to its natural slumber. The others though, even his own jinni, were not so easily convinced.
The orb’s words switched over to another language, then another, then another. Finally, it switched over to one that everyone present understood—the language used by the Ma’an.
“Hello? Hello!? You understand me now? Dammit, is this thing even working?”
“Yes! We understand you!”
“Oh, finally! Thought I would never get through to you guys. You know, you’re the first people I’ve talked to since arriving in this world. You wouldn’t believe what I’ve gone through, what with this thing with the Custodian and being trapped here with all these constructs of mine. Seriously, the dolls are cute and all, but the mind can only take so much isolation before it starts to lose itself bit by bit. I mean, months with nobody to talk to except myself? All the building and repairing—you have no idea how mind-numbing that stuff is. And you guys look like you… wait… I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
The orb seemed to realize its own problem, taking a moment to collect itself. Suhaib could hear the voice breathe in a deep breath before loosing it all in a slow sigh. “Okay. Let me start from the beginning. My name is Martin. I mean you no harm. Do you good folks need some help?”
The young prince could barely contain himself with glee. He had set out with this caravan in the hopes of exploring new trade routes for his father’s emirate—one of the few remaining emirates where the grip of the cartels was not absolute. They were slowly strangling the city, though. Each year saw increasingly aggressive pirate fleets harassing the emirate’s fishing fleets. The overland trade caravans were no better, with other cartel-controlled emirates either imposing exorbitant tariffs or outright halting trade with Ma’an. And even then, these overland routes were at high risk of being beset by bandits. Of course, none of these pirates or brigands had anything to do with the cartels whatsoever—or at least they left no evidence linking them to the corrupted emirates.
The only reason his father and his forces could beat them back was because of the Ma’an’s stronger relationship with the jinn—who despised all that the cartels stood for. The prince and his entourage view their people as essential parts of the emir. Both men and jinn were to be honored and respected, not slaves to be chained in servitude. Many of the new emirs adopted the beliefs of the cartels, that might makes right, and thus allowed the enslavement of both their people and the jinn that they were bound to. The Ma’an, however, still valued the old ways.
Yet, even the significant magical aid of the jinn would not be able to prop up the Ma’an for long. His father may bluster and put up a strong front before the people, but they wouldn’t survive once the cartels finished
undermining the other emirates and turned their full combined focus on Ma’an. The Emirate of Ma’an needed new routes with new partners—ones not beholden to the cartels—to keep trade alive, otherwise they would suffocate in the little parcel of land it held influence over. His father, the Emir, tried to hide these ugly facts from him, but Suhaib was not the kind of prince to sit back and watch his emirate rot to the ground. His brothers and sisters may be better versed in the arts of war and administration, with the bodies and souls to match their skills, but he was the one who looked beyond the sands of the Bashri basin. If there were people beyond the mountains, he would be the one to find them for his father’s sake and for the sake of the people of the emirate.
“Yes… yes, help would be appreciated.”
***
“But what if it leads us to our doom? What if it is one of the shayateen in disguise?”
Prince Suhaib could not swallow the groan that escaped his throat. He had successfully kept his temper the first few dozen times Munjid questioned his decision, but he was sorely tempted to just cuff his friend in the head and tell him to shut up—even if that friend could thoroughly trounce him in unarmed combat.
And of course, his other friend Faadi had to add to the discussion. “You know, I’ve heard some particularly clever shayateen can possess inanimate objects. Maybe it managed to gets its oily claws on a cursed artifact of some kind?” Suhaib was grateful, in a way, that the injured man was healthy enough to join the gossiping.
“I doubt that,” snorted Uhi as her legless form floated beside her royal partner. The deep red marbles of her eyes narrowed above her veil, studying the floating orb with an intense gaze. “I don’t sense any of the shayateen’s malice in it. In fact, it feels more like one of us, the jinn, though just wrong in some way.”
“By the sands, would you listen to yourselves? We came out here, braved the desert and the cartel’s goons, to find other peoples beyond the mountains. Granted we’re not going anywhere, with our lost supplies, we have found evidence of people existing beyond the mountains. The orb, this Martin, is proof enough.”
“Yes, and it hasn’t stopped talking since,” remarked Faadi dryly, watching the orb as it led their group on its way as it conversed with one of the guides at the front of the caravan. It was no doubt squeezing the man for information, like it had been doing with every person who was willing to talk to a floating sphere. “The only thing I can remember from its rambling is its name. It calls itself ‘Martin.’ Everything else, I just tuned out. Sounds like a madman, if you ask me.”
“Martin, eh? Well, does anyone else have a better idea than what Martin is proposing? Anybody know where to get water within the next day or so? Or at least before we all die of thirst?”
That shut everyone up. “And no, Faadi, I would much rather trust a sphere to bring us to a nearby spring instead of drinking my own urine. That’s just disgusting.” That also shut Faadi up, who quickly pursed his lips and allowed himself a brief smile before settling back into the makeshift stretcher attached to the harness of their camels.
After a few hours of navigating the winding maze of the sandstone towers, they eventually came upon one of the springs that the floating orb had mentioned. It was well hidden behind the twists and turns of the sandstone rocks, and they even had to squeeze through a particularly narrow crevice just to get to it. It was worth the find, however. The water sparkled and flowed steadily from one of the stony cliffs, pooling into a shallow pond which in turn drained off into the sands. Everyone dove into the refreshing waterfall, eagerly shoving their faces in the water to take deep pulls before bringing out and refilling their waterskins. Even the jinn joined in the celebrations, basking in the joy and relief of their partners.
The young prince waited until everyone else got a turn at the springs, biting down his tongue to fight off his own thirst. Or at least that was his intention before one of the armsmasters guarding him brought him a fresh waterskin to drink from. He gratefully accepted the skin and took a long, throaty pull of the sweet, refreshing water.
His jinni, Uhi, sighed in relief. “Oh, that felt good.” Suhaib wiped his moist lips with a dry sleeve and grinned at the look of utter satisfaction plastered on his jinni’s eyes—her veil obfuscating everything below the nose. “I would offer you some if I could, my dear Uhi.” She waved him off with a mischievous smile on her own face. “Your happiness is my happiness, Suhaib. Enjoy your mortal pleasures, that I may enjoy them as well.”
Suhaib appreciated his jinni. While the other jinn took this respite to recover in the Invisible World, only she chose to remain in the Visible World to share the sufferings of her bond-mate. The prince returned her smile and took another swig from the waterskin before returning it to the armsmaster.
After taking a drink, the prince walked up behind the sphere, tapping it to gain its attention. “Martin, I thank you for leading me and my people here. We should be able to better rest here, knowing our pursuers will not find us so easily, and we should be able to pack enough water for the journey back home. As gratitude, you can ask me for a boon, and I will appeal to my father, the Emir of Ma’an, to grant it.”
The prince gave the sphere a moment, allowing the mind within it to comprehend the scope of what he was offering. The opportunity to ask a boon from the emir? Even if Suhaib still had to present an appeal, not a lot of people got the chance to gaining an audience with the emir—much less ask a boon from him. Of course, the prince had other motives in mind as well. If he could form a positive bond with Martin’s people, he would be better poised to strike up a deal with them. He even allowed himself to imagine forming a possible union, where the Ma’an would find a new ally to protect it against the other emirates corrupted by the cartels. If he was being ambitious, maybe Martin’s people would be enough to bring the neutral emirates in as well.
A moment passed, and another. After a minute, it was clear that the sphere was not reacting. Perhaps it had not heard him? “I know the thought is boggling, facing my father, the emir. You can take all the time you need. Just know that you have won a friend…in…the…”
Whatever speech Suhaib had in mind, it fled the moment he spotted the pyramid in front of him. It was embedded within the sandstone cliffs, off to the side of the spring feeding water to the pond below it. Everyone else in the camp fell silent as they saw what he saw.
Suhaib was no rube. He had heard of the haunted ruins protected by hordes of earthen monsters within their confines. He had even been brought by his tutors to the edges of the ruins, when the shifting winds blew away the sands that usually covered the blasted structures. Everyone knew to stay away from the haunted ruins, lest they incur the wrath of the creatures guarding it. However, this was the first time he had seen an intact pyramid—one with a glowing beacon on its walls.
Uhi floated behind her partner, setting a hand on his shoulder as she absorbed his shocked wonder. “Suhaib! This… this is…what’s going on?” He could feel his amazement flowing into her, but he also felt fear bouncing off the link connecting them together.
As the people of the convoy watched in awe, the strange little sphere simply floated toward the glowing beacon of the pyramid. The beacon’s light dimmed right before the granite blocks surrounding it shifted. They opened up just enough to allow a small pedestal to extend from within the pyramid’s interior.
The floating orb seemed to hesitate, then settled itself on the pedestal right before a painful, ear-splitting shriek exploded from everywhere and nowhere.
Chapter 06
“Chief Engineer… we failed. There is nothing more we can do.”
The woman’s garbled voice rang through Martin’s consciousness, which was imprisoned in the body of a man shaking in grief and self-loathing.
“We had just unlocked the mysteries of soul transference. All we needed was a little more time, and we would have been prepared! We could have saved them all!” Martin felt the man’s fist slam on the desk, disrupting
the holograms it was projecting.
The woman came closer, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Chief—no, Amun. We did our best...”
“Our best was not enough!” The woman winced, releasing her hold on his arm.
A few huffs later, and the man shook his head and drew his brows together in frustration. “Sorry, Mut. That was uncalled for.”
The lean woman nodded curtly. “Yes, it was.”
“I’m just so frustrated. We knew they were coming. They had done this to our ancestors, hundreds of years ago. The writings were literally on the walls of the ruins of our ancestors: savages coming from their gates, cutting our people down and leaving just enough to repopulate. And yet nobody believed. It was all just a myth to them.” Amon spat the word out with as much disgust as he could muster.
Then the pain abated, and Amun sighed once more to dispel the remnants of his impotent rage before turning toward the display on the desk. It was a holographic image of the planet, with flat images hovering around it. Each display showed scenes that made Martin goggle in awe. One revealed knights in thick armor atop massive steeds of war, shrugging off the weapons and spells of defenders as they rode through thick, stone walls like they were nothing but flimsy sheets of paper. Another showed rows of archers wielding enchanted longbows, loosing arrows that travelled for miles before finding their marks and blowing through underground shelters. In another display, winged maidens dressed in gleaming armor descended from the heavens, blinding their victims before shoving spears of light into their bodies. Another display showed robed figures gesturing with their hands, summoning intense tornadoes, barrages of hailstorms, and ground-shattering earthquakes to level entire cities.