by Amber Lough
“Go now, and tell them,” said the other jinni, and I felt something sharp press into the space between my shoulder blades. “The sooner they hear we’re coming, the more the terror will build.”
“Please,” I pleaded.
The sword pressed harder, and the pain was immediate.
I transported away, back to the ridge I’d first arrived on, relieved I hadn’t said the secret wish home in front of them. But then, home wasn’t where I needed to go, anyway. I caught my breath and cried, “Shatamana.”
I slipped into the dirt, and fell, faster and faster, down into the earth.
THREE THINGS HAPPENED at once. The rest of the Shaitan arrived, we sealed up the bottom half of the tunnel with a haphazard layer of rocks and wishes, and the caliph’s army appeared. I stood in the shadows behind the barricade and watched as they filed up on the opposite bank. Their horses’ hooves lifted and settled. Their foot soldiers lined the edge of the bank and stood still. I watched all of this as though I were viewing it from afar, and had to grip the rock in front of me to remind myself this was real. This was what the buildup to battle looked like.
Rashid came up behind me and pulled me out of the way. He looked through the opening and sucked air in through his teeth. “We barely got here in time. Atish, I need you to get on the other side of this, up above the tunnel. Take Zayele with you.”
Atish nodded and began climbing over the rocks we’d only just cemented.
“They don’t know we’re here yet, so use your shahtabi,” Rashid snapped.
We complied, but even invisible, I felt exposed while we climbed the bluff. I pulled myself up the side, but it was soft and crumbled. Once, Atish reached out and grabbed my wrist. “Be careful, or they’ll know what’s causing the dirt to fall.”
Finally, we reached the top, where we could see for miles and were eye to eye with the opposing army. But the Tigris was wide here at the bend, and impossible for them to cross.
“Why didn’t they come from behind and climb down the bluff instead?” I asked Atish.
“Because all that area over there is riddled with fire. We set up clear orbs in the field, and if they’re stepped on, they erupt with fire and oil. I helped set some up a few weeks ago. Sometimes, they get broken by animals and need to be replaced.”
“What are those?” I asked him. Three boats were forging upriver, propelled by dozens of men at oar. None of these men were armed, but what alarmed me was what each of these boats towed behind: a long, wide raft of woven reeds. At first glance, they looked like barges, but on closer inspection, I saw they were too flat, and two wooden poles extended from each end. They were bridges! Even more alarming was that they were the width of the river.
A horn blared, and the horsemen on the bluff across the river all turned to the south. Then they began to cross down the embankment on a narrow trail that switched back and forth.
Atish ran to the edge, flopped onto his stomach, and cupped his hands over his mouth. “Rashid!” he shouted down. “Watch out for the bridges!”
There was a moment of silence that was broken by a round of cursing. “Get rid of them!” Rashid called back. “Before they have a chance to use them.”
Atish pushed himself onto his feet and pulled me to the edge. “We have to destroy those.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. Fire?”
The bridges were not yet in place, and were at least fifty feet away from where we stood. “Are we close enough?”
“We have to be,” he said tightly. He held out his hands and wished.
His aim was true. The fire hit the center of the first bridge, blasting a few reeds into the air. Smoke swirled up from the point of impact. A moment later, an arrow shot out from behind the army’s ranks and hit the scorched mark on the bridge. It had carried with it a bladder of water, which doused the fire.
Atish sent a series of fireballs, all targeted at various points on the nearest bridge, and each ball of fire was met with an arrow of water. The bridge kept moving closer to the tunnel.
If the bridges could not get close to the tunnel, they were worthless. I focused on the men in the boat, at their oars. Then I imagined the oars were nothing but fish, and I wished, pushing the idea forward.
There was a shock wave, and in an instant, each of the men held a writhing, living fish. They dropped them in shock before realizing they now had no way to navigate the river. Once the fish hit the water, they returned to their original form, and some of the men reached out, grasping at the oars as they rushed downstream.
Atish hooted and clapped me on the back. “That was my magus, Rashid!”
Orders, directed from both the boats and the army making its way down to the river’s edge, were barked across the water. Someone blew a horn, and the foot soldiers ran down the sides of the bluff, stumbling and rolling over one another, until they hit the water. Some began swimming out to the first boat.
There were too many. Atish kept attacking the bridges, and was answered by the water arrows. I bent over the edge and looked at the tunnel. No one had yet come out.
“Rashid!” I shouted. “Tell me what to do!”
“Do the same thing to the other oarsmen. We will be ready in a moment.”
“What are they doing in there?” I asked Atish, but he was too focused to hear.
My skin began to tingle, and I knew the shahtabi was wearing off. I had used up too much energy on the oars. We would soon be out in the open, there for all the army’s archers to see. I pulled on his shoulder and he whirled on me.
“We have to hide,” I said. He blinked, realization dawning on him.
“There’s isn’t anywhere to go. We have to finish off the bridges.”
I watched in dismay as the soldiers positioned the first bridge, turning it against the current. The long poles at the front pushed onto the bank, and the back end was lifted until it settled. The bridge was light enough for the men to lift, but looked sturdy enough to let horses cross, two abreast.
It didn’t seem to matter to the commander that several men had gone downstream, smacking their heads against the bridges. Again, I wished away the oars in another boat. But these men had been watching the first. Someone on board barked an order, and they held their fish tight, grabbing at tails and snapping jaws. When the wish faded, they had their oars again, and they pounded at the water, harder and fiercer than before.
“It’s not working!” I shrieked.
The first wave of horsemen reached the bank and raced across the river, hooves cracking at the reeds. A second later, they charged the tunnel and began to pull away the rocks.
“Rashid!” Atish shouted, but there was no response. The second bridge was set onto the banks, and soon it too was covered in hooves and men with swords.
A wave of heat came over us from behind, and we turned in time to see four figures, one of azure flame and the other three of shimmering smoke, settle onto the ground. The first was Melchior, who did not wait for the others to re-form before setting up an invisibility shield around his immediate area. Then the smoke cleared.
Aga brushed off her black vest and then turned to the people beside her. One was Firuz, but I barely gave him a look because the other person that had transported to the bluff was Yashar.
I ran at Melchior. “What is he doing here!” I screamed. “Why would you bring a boy to battle?”
Melchior gestured at Yashar, whose face had gone pale. His mouth twitched, as if he was trying to keep it from peeling back in fear. “He will prove useful. He can identify the enemy’s fears, Zayele. We cannot let an opportunity like that be wasted.”
“But he could be hurt!”
“Zayele,” Yashar croaked. He left Aga and Firuz and came to me. I turned, ready to pull him into my arms, ready to transport him as far away as I could imagine, but he shook his head and stopped a foot away, just on the other side of Melchior’s invisibility shield. “I am one of them now.”
“You’re what? Melchior, what have you d
one to him?” Had he burned away all of Yashar’s humanity just as he had done to me?
“I have done nothing but welcome him and give him something to strive for. He is not physically changed, like you. Any man willing to fight with us is part of our tribe.”
“Yashar, you can’t do this. There are people dying down there. You don’t want to see this.”
“I can see it already, Zayele. And I am not afraid.”
I felt it well up, bitter and thick as mucus: horror. Pure, nauseating horror at what Melchior was willing to do to this boy.
Yashar blanched. “Zayele, don’t feel that way. I want to be here. I want to help. At home, Father never let me do anything. I wasn’t a part of anything. But here, I’m useful.”
I whirled on Melchior. “When this is over, I am taking him away from you. If you’re still alive.” Then I felt the shahtabi fall away, and I stood exposed on the edge. I looked at the men waiting to come down to the bridge and caught the eyes of a soldier. He lifted his bow.
THE DUST PUFFED beneath my feet while I ran, invisible, along a path between flattened green stalks of barley. Ibrahim’s army had come through here, trudging over the fields. He did not care that they had left a trail from here to the horizon. He did not care that he had destroyed the livelihood of his own people. I, in turn, did not care that I had not gone straight to Melchior. He already knew of the foreign army.
I had wished myself to Samarra. But I did not wish to be on Melchior’s side of the Tigris, so I focused on finding Kamal. He, at least, would listen to me. I slipped through the ranks of dozens of soldiers before I finally found the horses with Ibrahim’s colors. At the top of the bluff, the banners flapped wildly, whipping in the drying, crisp wind of midmorning. Ibrahim sat atop his gray horse in full armor. His dented helmet was blinding in the sun, and I shielded my eyes while I crept closer, scanning the surrounding area for Kamal.
Where was he? Ibrahim’s captains surrounded him, taking turns to urge on their soldiers down the bluff, down to the river.
I stood in the empty space between Ibrahim and the edge of the cliff. Ibrahim’s stallion sniffed and cocked his ear at me. I froze. I was upwind, and the horse had taken notice. He knew someone was there, even if he couldn’t see me.
Then I heard a cry from the opposite bluff and turned to see my sister fall. Atish was dragging her back, away from the edge. Melchior and Aga stood fast, with Yashar shielded between them. Off to the side stood Firuz, and his presence confused me the most. Why were they standing out in the open? Why weren’t they in the tunnel?
I looked down and saw the Shaitan had given up on protecting the tunnel. They were pouring out of the entrance on their way to halt the advance of the soldiers who had come across the bridges. I knew in a second that those were the “reeds” Ibrahim had mentioned.
“Kamal, where are you?” I asked quietly.
I turned around just as a gloved hand wrapped around my neck. I struggled, and my shahtabi wish fell away.
“Did you think I wouldn’t expect you to come? I’ve been waiting,” Ibrahim said, growling in my ear. “Thank you for saying something so I knew just where to grab you.”
“Let me go!”
He grabbed my wrist with a bare hand and let go of my neck. “I have you now.”
“Ibrahim, please. I only came to warn you.” Not only was I pinned between a giant of a man and the river bluff, but the man held me skin to skin. I could not get away unless he released me of his own will.
“To warn me of what? I know all there is to know about war with the Shaitan. This time, I’ve planned to draw them out of the tunnel. Then, when they’ve left it unguarded, we’ll go in. All the way in.”
“Ibrahim, please! There’s another army coming.” I pulled, but his hand was hard as marble.
“Is there? Another jinni army from some other hole in the ground?”
“Yes. Well, no. But they have jinn. They’re coming to attack you. I came to tell you. Where’s Kamal?”
“Prince Kamal was not invited. You, on the other hand, are welcome to help us. In fact, I don’t think you’ll have much choice.” Then he dragged me away from the edge of the cliff. With his other hand, he motioned to someone to come. I kicked, pulled, and hit at his arm, but his armor was thick and he only laughed. “You know what I’ll do now, don’t you?”
“Don’t. Please. They’re my people.”
“I thought you cared more about your human half. Isn’t that why you came to the palace dressed as one? Isn’t that why you chased after my brother?”
He lifted his hand, pulling me up into the air. My elbow ached, and I shouted, kicking him in the stomach. He pulled me away and lifted me in front of his soldiers. “I’ve caught us a jinni!” he bellowed. One by one, the soldiers spotted me and raised their weapons in salute to Ibrahim. I quit kicking, realizing it was a useless waste of energy. Ibrahim shook me once and then hissed, “I wish for you to kill every last Shaitan down on that riverbank.”
“I won’t.”
He raised his brows so high they disappeared into his pointed helmet. “I command it.”
“Even if I wanted to, I can’t kill with a wish.” I glared at him, wishing I could burn him with my eyes.
His grip tightened. “Can you knock them down?” I looked away. “Do it. I wish for you to knock those Shaitan into the river.”
“Please, don’t make me do this. Why are you attacking us? We’ve done nothing!”
“Grant my wish, Consul.”
The wish bubbled, like the pools of acid in the cracks of the earth. It filled my body, unbidden, and a scream erupted from my mouth. No. I was not going to grant him this wish. The Shaitan would drown. The tunnel would be unguarded. The Cavern would be open to these dusty, steel-wielding soldiers and their bloodlust.
I pushed back, willing the wish to fade, to disperse, to dissolve. But like those pools of acid, they gushed from some unnamed source, filling the brim, filling my brain. I was not going to give him this. I was not going to.
Najwa, you are stronger than him. You can fight this.
Firuz! I can’t—
I screamed. It shredded my throat, shook my teeth, and left me with nothing to breathe. The wish continued, seeping into my bones, into my veins, and pushed through. All I could do was take Ibrahim’s wish exactly as he said it. Those Shaitan. Not all of them.
Fight it, Najwa. Use your human strength. You’re not as bound to his wishes as the rest of us.
I opened my eyes wide and pulled against Ibrahim’s wish. But power bolted out my fingertips. It spread outward, like a ray of killing sunlight, and blasted into the riverbank. Three Shaitan fell, one in the midst of a fight. Like magnets drawn to iron, they slipped into the Tigris. Nails scraped at the bank, but it did them no good.
They lost their hold or were hit by a human soldier. Then, like orbs of light cast into the canal, they bobbed downstream. One of them continued to send out fireballs while she floated away. None of those fireballs hit their marks.
I fell limp, held up only by Ibrahim. I knew I was dangling like a wilted flower, but I could do nothing about it. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I had not been strong enough. I had not resisted enough. I had not fought him hard enough. I was not enough.
My sister would have fought him to the end. She would have burned in the wish before letting it fly.
My eyes were too heavy, and I let them fall as I heard a dozen voices cry out in victory. Then, in the midst of it all, I heard my name. Someone was calling for me, but I could not tell if the voice belonged to a jinni or a human.
I DROPPED TO the ground as an arrow whooshed over me. The archer pulled back again, but Atish sent out a fireball that hit him in the chest. We had long lost our invisibility and were fighting out in the open.
I started to push myself up off the ground when I saw it: a dark, churning cloud on the horizon, far behind the last lines of the caliph’s army.
“Atish, look!”
He bent down
and dragged me onto my feet, then pulled me back, away from the edge of the bluff. “What is that?” he asked.
“I believe I know what that is,” Melchior said. I turned around to see Melchior shake his head. His eyes were focused on the bluff behind me. Yashar and Aga, however, saw the roiling darkness.
“What is it?” Atish asked.
“It’s the other army,” Melchior answered.
“Another army! And what’s that cloud before them?” I asked. It rolled over the terrain, ripping up all that stood in its way.
Aga reached for Yashar, who cowered from her. “That’s the storm I never wanted to see,” she said.
Firuz suddenly brought his hands over his ears and crouched. “Najwa’s been caught by Ibrahim,” he shouted at us. “She’s trying to fight him off.”
“Then we’ve all but lost,” Melchior sputtered.
A handful of Shaitan fighting along the riverbank were pulled by an invisible hand into the Tigris. Aga and Melchior both shouted out a stream of wishes, but none were strong enough to counter the power that had brought them down.
The human army cried out in victory, shaking their swords in the air.
“Najwa!” Atish screamed. He pointed across the river at the opposite bluff. Ibrahim was dragging Najwa away from the edge. A moment later, she was lost behind the victorious soldiers.
I ran to Melchior and grabbed him by the sleeve. “We need to help her!”
“We can do nothing to help her now. She’s a slave of the army’s,” he said.
“She was more defiant than you or I could ever have been,” Firuz said. His eyes were bright with angry fire, and he shook his head at Melchior. “She had been commanded to kill them all.”
Melchior’s mouth twisted in pain. “She’s too much like her mother.”
“She was right, you know,” Firuz said to Melchior. “You sent her back to free the Forgotten, but they weren’t slaves. They came here to wipe us out. She is strong, and if she hadn’t resisted Ibrahim’s wish, all of the Shaitan would have died!”
Melchior glared at Firuz, pulled Yashar into his arms, made a wish, and slipped down to the entrance to the tunnel. I stood dumbfounded while he brought my cousin to face the onslaught of a rush of jubilant men.