by Diana Green
“I’m already packed and ready to depart,” Sallizahn assured him.
“Good. Soldiers will meet you by the west gate. And remember, I want the Falcon brought back alive.”
“As you wish.” Sallizahn hurried from the room, clearly anxious to be on his way.
Asab shook off his frustration and sent orders for thirty cavalry soldiers to accompany the sorcerer—with plenty of spare horses for swift travel. If a thing was worth doing at all, it was worth doing right.
He penned a note to his agent, Sahsur, apprising him of the need for hair or nail clippings from the Nissian princess. And as the final act before breakfast, he called in his executioner and commanded him to behead the prisoner Basim.
There was no need to keep the desert rat alive for leverage, and killing him carried a certain satisfaction. The Falcon would lose in every possible way—as was fitting for any who dared set themselves against Asab Kah Akbah.
~*~
Jehan woke gradually, reveling in the feel of Saba tucked against her in the comfortable bed. A shaft of sunlight slanted down from a single rectangular opening, set deep in the bedrock wall. Presumably it faced out from the front of the cliff, allowing natural light to illuminate the chamber.
In the patch of pale sunshine Saba’s hair shone like polished obsidian. Her face appeared peaceful in sleep, lips slightly parted, dark lashes lying soft against the curve of her cheek. Jehan kissed the satin skin of her bare shoulder, breathing in the sweet scent of her. Such happiness! It was almost frightening to be given so much. Now she had more to lose than ever before. And life, if nothing else, was uncertain.
Pushing aside that troubling thought, she snuggled closer to Saba, circling an arm around her waist. Never had Jehan felt this besotted with anyone, as if her heart was now a compass, with Saba as true north. All thoughts of keeping her distance were long gone. It was too late for that. She’d already fallen hard.
Saba stirred. Yawning, she opened sleepy eyes to smile at Jehan, who promptly showered her with kisses. For the next while they said ‘good morning’ with eager lips and hands, rekindling the heat from their encounter the night before. At last sated, they curled together, bathed in that single golden shaft of sunlight.
“What a marvelous way to wake up,” Saba murmured, running a hand through Jehan’s cropped hair. “I think I might like to do this every day.”
“You’ll get no argument from me!”
“But a person does need to eat.” As if to reinforce the statement, Saba’s stomach growled rather loudly. She giggled, a sound Jehan immediately rated as one of her favorites of all time. She definitely needed to get Saba giggling more often.
The two women dressed and went looking for something tastier than the travel rations in their saddlebags. They found a vaulting cavern which seemed to serve as both kitchen and dining area. Several high deep-set windows cast rectangles of brightness in the otherwise dim chamber.
Although the space could easily accommodate scores of people, only a dozen sat eating breakfast. Three looked to be adolescents, dressed in green robes, while most of the women wore blue—the traditional color for scholars. Only Siham’s robes were black, possibly indicating a high position in the temple hierarchy.
After Jehan and Saba filled their plates, Siham beckoned them over. “Come join me. We have matters to speak of.”
As they sat down, Jehan noticed a curving snake tattoo around Siham’s wrist. Perhaps this was another sign of rank. She appeared to be the oldest woman present, which made her a natural choice as leader.
“You have brought us Mari’s personal record?” Siham’s gaze settled on Saba.
“Yes.” Saba pulled the small book from a pocket of her tunic and handed it to the priestess.
Siham opened the cover and leafed through several pages, her manner reverent. “This will make a welcome addition to our library. You must tell Mari how much we appreciate her gift.”
“I will,” Saba responded. “And I hope you’ll give me something useful to take her, for healing. Surely with all your collected knowledge, you can find a cure for what ails her.”
“Our knowledge is not so great as you might think. Much was lost when the goddesses were vanquished, and living in secrecy limits our resources.” Siham gestured toward the scattering of women. “As you can see our numbers are few and grow fewer with each passing generation. None of us know how to help Mari, and believe me, I asked everyone as soon as Hadya related her dream.”
“Which one is Hadya?” Saba glanced around the room. “Perhaps if I speak with her, she might have some fresh insight.”
“Hadya was called to meditate this morning, but you can meet her later.” Siham shook her head. “I doubt she’ll be more help than the rest of us. Her gift is in prophecy, not the healing arts. Besides which, Mari’s illness is not of common origins.”
“I understand that.” Disappointment threaded Saba’s voice. “I just don’t want to believe she’s doomed.”
Jehan reached over and squeezed her hand, wishing she could offer better comfort. Saba had pinned her last hopes on the Sisterhood, but despite the aged grandeur of the temple, the place seemed rather sad. It felt like an echo of its former glory, fated to eventually fall silent and return to dust.
“Would it be possible to ask the Viper Queen herself for aid?” Saba asked. “I sense her magic persists here.”
“Indeed.” Siham nodded. “Her essence endures, if only as a pale shadow of what she once was. The usurpers could not entirely wipe her influence from the land.”
“Then I might petition her for Mari’s healing?”
Siham studied Saba. “I shall have to discuss that with Hadya, as she holds the closest connection with the goddess. I may be high priestess, but my talents lie more in organization and managing people. Communing with the divine is not my strength.” She shrugged. “In the end, I believe all service is valuable to the Sisterhood, even those of a mundane nature. All our contributions allow the order to endure.”
“What is the goal of all this?” Jehan asked. “Do you wish to see the old ways restored to power?”
“That would be futile. Clearly our time is long past and will never come again. But I do hope we’ll witness a change in Altera, a balancing where women can once more openly practice magic and share an equal stake in society. If that occurs, we can share the skills and knowledge we’ve maintained through the centuries.”
“The heir’s marriage to Zula Kianga has already brought reforms,” Saba said. “Slavery has been outlawed, and women can now own property without a male guardian.”
Siham’s eyes brightened. “I knew the Padishah and his heir were more progressive than most, but a strong Nissian influence will surely be for the good. How pleasant to hear encouraging news.” The hint of a smile curved her lips. “And here is your chance to speak with Hadya. She must have finished her meditation.”
A priestess in purple robes approached them. Braids threaded with multi-colored beads circled her head, and a tattoo of an eye graced the center of her brow. She offered a greeting to all three women, but her gaze remained fixed on Saba.
“So you’re the one,” Hadya said, her voice thoughtful. “There must be more to you than a pretty face, or the goddess wouldn’t show such interest.”
“I beg your pardon?” Saba looked bewildered.
“I am instructed to bring you to the inner shrine,” Hadya explained. “It’s a rare honor, especially for one not belonging to the Sisterhood. The Viper Queen must have something she wants from you.”
“What exactly does that mean?” Jehan demanded, not sure she liked the sound of this.
“I can’t say what the goddess intends,” Hadya responded, barely glancing at Jehan. “I am merely her messenger.”
“Well I don’t think—”
“It’s all right.” Saba laid her hand on Jehan’s. “This may be my chance to help Mari.” She turned to Hadya. “Is now is a good time?”
“Yes. Come with me.”
Saba rose to her feet. Jehan began to rise beside her, but Hadya frowned and gestured for her to sit.
“You were not included in the invitation,” she stated firmly.
“Normally, the uninitiated aren’t permitted beyond the outer shrine,” Siham added. “We mean no offense. This is simply how things are done here.”
Jehan’s jaw tightened as she prepared to argue.
Saba leaned in close. “We should respect their rules,” she whispered. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”
“Just be careful,” Jehan murmured. “I don’t like being separated.”
“I’ll be back before you know it.” Saba brushed a light kiss on her cheek then followed Hadya out of the room.
Jehan tried not to overreact. As a leader of bandits she was used to facing danger, but normally her wits and skill with a blade were sufficient protection. All this magical business made her uneasy. It was a realm she couldn’t control or even enter into. What if the goddess required some form of sacrifice? Would Saba be given the chance to refuse?
With an impatient huff, Jehan shoved aside her worries and pushed to her feet. She needed to take a walk or do something—anything to stop the fretful spin of her mind. Sitting around and waiting had never suited her.
“Would you like a tour of the temple?” Siham asked, perhaps sensing her restlessness.
“Thank you…but no. I need to get outside, breathe some fresh air, and see the sky.”
“Very well. I won’t detain you.”
Relieved, Jehan hurried from the room, making a beeline for the main entrance. Something about the weight of solid bedrock all around felt oppressive. The temple might be an interesting place to visit, but she wouldn’t want to live there.
On the wide steps of the entrance several blue-robed women had gathered, sitting on woven mats, pouring over ancient books. Battered copper ink pots, writing implements, and sheets of paper lay spread around them.
Jehan gave them a quick nod, but continued on her way. At last she walked out beyond the cliff face, to where she could view a stretch of brilliant azure sky. A kestrel hovered on the air currents, searching for prey, its sharp wings etched against the morning brightness. The cleansing scent of wild sage carried on the breeze, lifting her spirits.
She rolled her shoulders, taking several long breaths to release the tension from her body. Thankfully, she and Saba would soon leave the temple behind and return to the outlaws’ hidden valley. Their departure couldn’t come too quickly for Jehan’s liking.
Chapter Sixteen
Hadya led Saba deeper into the temple’s network of corridors and chambers. They left behind areas where sunshine entered and each carried a lantern to light the way. The maze of narrow passages seemed to stretch forever, the darkness and claustrophobic closeness of the bedrock walls wearing on Saba’s nerves.
At last, after descending a steep stone stairway, they came to an arched door flanked by statues of hooded vipers.
“You will continue alone from here,” Hadya explained. “I don’t wish to interfere with the goddess’ purpose or provide any distractions.”
“What is the proper way to do things in the shrine? Should I make an offering?”
“It is traditional to light the altar incense while praising the goddess and inviting her presence. There’s a knife for making a blood offering, if you so desire. It shows the seriousness of your intent and helps awaken greater power. The Viper Queen has lain bound and dormant so long, only a small portion of her awareness reaches us. Blood, freely given, can strengthen that connection, at least temporarily.”
“Thank you.” Saba was pleased her voice sounded calm, despite the anxiety churning her stomach. She knew so little about all this. Hopefully she wouldn’t offend the goddess and ruin everything.
Heart thudding, she opened the door and went through. At first she encountered nothing but another dark corridor. At the end of this lay an opening to the shrine. Saba stepped inside, holding the lantern high to better view her surroundings.
Although this cavern wasn’t large in circumference, it soared up into the darkness beyond where her lantern light could reach. Instead of a ceiling, Saba saw only impenetrable black.
The most striking feature of the space was a giant statue of the Viper Queen, several times the size of a human woman. Her feet stood upon the cavern floor, her head disappearing into the shadows above. Unlit torches hung from sconces set into the rock walls. No doubt with more of them illuminating the shrine, the goddess’ face would be visible.
Saba decided to leave things as they were. A single lantern seemed good enough for her purposes, and she felt reluctant to disturb the heavy stillness of the place.
Speaking the prayer of praise and invitation Mari had used at the valley shrine, Saba lit incense on the polished altar in front of the statue’s base. She placed her lantern on the cavern floor and knelt in supplication. Repeating the prayer, she hesitantly reached for the bone-handled knife resting near the statue. It was clear from rusty handprints on the great stone feet and ankles what was expected.
“This is for Mari,” she murmured, mustering her courage. “I just hope the blade’s sharp.”
With a quick careful movement, she laid open a shallow slice along the palm of her hand. Blood welled up, but before any could be lost on the cavern floor, Saba pressed her hand to the top of the statue’s right foot.
A vibration stirred the stone and rippled up Saba’s arm. She almost pulled her hand away in shock, but managed to hold tight. Fear mustn’t rule her. That had been the lesson learned from her visit to the valley shrine.
Incense smoke coiled around her as a steady pulse, like a heartbeat, emanated from the statue’s foot. The stone warmed under Saba’s hand and seemed to soften, becoming more like flesh.
“I seek aid for my friend Mari.” Her voice sounded faint in the great silence of the cavern. “I wish to find a cure for her illness, and I’ll do anything to help her.”
Anything? The question reverberated through her mind, like the voice in her vision by the sacred pool, only stronger. Much stronger! The power of it nearly overwhelmed her.
“Anything, so long as it doesn’t harm another,” Saba clarified, finding the words difficult to speak. Her mouth felt uncommonly dry, her skin prickling as a palpable magical charge filled the cavern.
Look up and meet my gaze.
Slowly she raised her head. The statue moved, tilting its face downward, so Saba could perceive features in the shadows above her. The stone eyes opened revealing luminous golden irises split with the vertical pupils of a snake.
Saba sucked in a breath, beginning to tremble. Those eyes were dazzling, hypnotic. It was impossible to look away, even as the cavern faded from her awareness.
She found herself in a realm of amber and rose, like the sky at sunrise, endless and unfathomable. A splendid being appeared, clothed in robes of pure light, with iridescent skin shimmering in all the colors of the rainbow. Snakes of many kinds coiled through her ebony hair, draping her shoulders and arms. There could be no mistaking her identity.
Welcome daughter of my blood.
“I am honored that you call me daughter.” Saba felt a rush of emotions so intense they defied definition. All she could do was let them wash through her.
I speak the simple truth. The blood you offered is proof, for in it I feel our kinship. You have jinni ancestry, of my lineage.
“How is that possible?”
My sisters and I were ageless and powerful but always remained of this world, no more divine than any other living creature. Mortals called us goddesses, and for a time we enjoyed their worship. I, in particular, loved the fleeting beauty of humans’ existence. I shared myself with them and bore children. Through the centuries, that heritage has passed from generation to generation as magic deep in the blood. You carry it now, and I rejoice at your awakening.
The Viper Queen reached out, placing a hand over Saba’s heart. Glorious warmth flooded her, exhilarati
ng and remarkably familiar. Recognition rocked her to the core. This magnificent jinni queen was family. To be in her presence felt like a long-awaited homecoming.
Remember all you are, and take that gift into the world. You can do great good with it, if you choose.
Every aspect of Saba’s being quickened, magic coursing through her, rousing her latent potential, reviving her ancestral memory. Words of the ancient jinni language sprang into her consciousness, clear and true, as if they were her mother tongue. This was the original arcane speech, the words of power at the heart of every spell, and she understood them all.
Saba’s spirit sang with joy and gratitude beyond words. Surely now she could heal Mari! An entire kingdom lay opened within her, the threads of power visible and ready to be woven.
No matter where your path leads or what trials you face, remember this day. The knowledge dwells within you, always.
“Thank you!”
This is your birthright and your destiny, daughter. Use it well.
In the next moment Saba opened her eyes back in the shadowy cavern, the rock floor cold and hard beneath her prone body. The lantern burned low beside her, its oil almost gone. How much time had passed? The vision seemed to last only a few minutes.
Shivering she pushed to her feet feeling a bone-deep exhaustion that made movement challenging. She clutched the lantern and stumbled back to where Hadya sat waiting. The priestess looked Saba over, seeming unsurprised by her depleted state.
“Here, lean on me,” she said. “Conversing with the goddess can take a toll on a person.”
“I feel like I could sleep for a month.”
“No doubt a long nap will be necessary, but first you must eat and get warm. We don’t want you falling sick.”
Saba nodded, allowing Hadya to help her along the corridor. At one point she thought to glance at the palm of her hand. Only a thin scar remained where the blade had sliced her skin. The wound was entirely healed.
~*~
Jehan paced from the temple’s entryway down the main passage, to where it branched, then back. She glanced briefly outside before starting her circuit again. It felt like she’d been at it for hours, but Saba and Hadya had to come this way. All other corridors originated with this central one.