She waited a moment while Jade translated the introductions to her mother and introduced herself and Inez. Zoulikha poured more tea for her guests and nodded to Yamna, who rose and began preparations for a later meal. She went to the curious red pot, tugged open one of the uppermost stoppers, stuck her hand inside, and pulled out a handful of semolina grain.
Zoulikha saw Jade’s fascination with the pot. “It is called an akoufi. It is where we store the household’s grain for making couscous. It will hold a week’s worth of grain.”
“It’s beautiful,” said Jade.
“Red is the color of blood, so it means life to us. The grain also gives us life. It is proper for the two to go together.”
Jade wanted to ask about the designs, but the old woman took up another topic.
“I will tell a story,” said Zoulikha. “We are the Imazighen, the free people. This village is the village of the Ait Izem, the children of one who bested a lion and so took Izem’s name as his own. Once the Amazigh people lived all over the Maghreb, the land where the sun sets. Our tribes each had a kahina, a woman versed in healing and lore. Many also knew how to control the jinni. Some could see the future. The strongest in learning were those . . .” She paused to ask Yamna something.
“Descended,” said Yamna in French to Jade and Inez.
“Yes,” said Zoulikha. “They came from the family of the great queen, Elishat. The Romans called her Dido, which meant ‘wanderer.’ ”
Jade felt an involuntary shudder twitch across her back and shoulders as she recalled the name of Elishat spoken in the Azilah tunnels. Even her mother seemed to take notice when the old woman spoke Dido’s name.
“Don’t you remember reading Virgil’s Aeneid, Jade? He describes Dido as the founder and first queen of Carthage.”
“That’s right,” said Jade. “In Tunisia, which is also part of the Maghreb.”
Zoulikha continued her story with occasional assistance from her daughter. “Elishat passed on her knowledge and a powerful amulet to her sister, Annah, before her death. This amulet was also a sign of our lineage. From Annah it went on to her eldest daughter and so down the line to the kahina called Dahia. Dahia led her people when the Arabs first came to the Maghreb, bringing Islam. Many of the Imazighen had left the ancient ways to become Nazarene or to follow the Israelite people, but always a kahina led them, though many had lost some of their knowledge.”
The old woman paused a moment to sip more tea and quench her throat, giving Jade a chance to relay the tale so far to Inez. “Dahia knew that the ways of the kahina would be lost completely, for the Arabs keep their women locked away. So she united the Amazigh people to do battle. The Romans had already built and rebuilt many ancient fortresses, most with deep tunnels. The Imazighen would not go in them, knowing the people of the night dwelt there. But Dahia could command them to do no harm to her. She had protection, for she carried Elishat’s amulet. It was more than just a symbol of her authority. It was a talisman of great power and holiness.”
Once again the conversation in the tunnels came back to Jade. “The kahina gave up the amulet to some man named Igider to give to her daughter,” she whispered.
Zoulikha heard her and smiled, as though she guessed what Jade had said in English. “You know of this already, Jade,” she said. “You know how she gave up the amulet so that her hidden daughter would bear the power and become kahina. Igider was her general. But in doing so, Dahia lost its protection and hastened her death. She sacrificed herself to save her people from destruction.”
Jade nodded, feeling slightly dumbfounded and more than a little bit unnerved. Inez noticed, as well.
“Jade, you’re pale. You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Close, Mother. I believe I heard one.” She translated Zoulikha’s tale to her mother, then explained first in English, then in Arabic, her experience in the Azilah tunnels. Zoulikha and Yamna exchanged knowing looks and smiled as though all this was perfectly normal. Jade caught the look. “Wait. Was it Yamna in the tunnels? Did Bachir take her there so I would hear this story?”
Zoulikha shook her head. “Yamna has not left the village. ”
“What is the rest of the story?” asked Jade. “There must be a reason you are telling me this. The man I heard in the tunnel, her general, seemed surprised that this kahina had a daughter.”
“He was,” said Zoulikha. “The girl was kept secret, for Dahia herself had foreseen this trouble. She knew the girl would be hunted down and killed, so Dahia instructed her sons to adopt Islam to save her people from more war. But she had secretly trained her daughter in the ways of the kahina and hid her in the mountains to the southwest. Over the years, the tribe made its way here, where we have lived for many generations. I am now the kahina, and carry the wisdom passed on from Elishat. Yamna is my daughter and my pupil, as her daughter, Lallah, will be hers.”
“So you rule this village?” asked Jade.
Zoulikha shook her head. “No. The men choose a sheik, a chief, to oversee the village. He lives in the kasbah. But the heart of the tribe is carried by the women. And even the sheik seeks my advice.”
Jade saw Yamna smile and wink at her. “What?” she asked.
“The sheik is my father,” said Yamna. “The man with the favor of the kahina is most likely to oversee the village.”
“I still do not understand what my role is in your story,” said Jade. “Bachir said you wanted my help.”
“Elishat’s amulet has been taken from us. We need you to get this talisman back.”
“Are you certain it has been stolen? Possibly it is misplaced? ”
“No. The amulet usually remains in a hidden place of which I will not speak at this time. I wear it when I must assume duties of the kahina: at healings, births, settling disputes. It has not been lost. Someone took it from its hiding place.”
“Then it must be someone in your own village.”
Zoulikha sighed deeply, as though such a thought were a terrible burden to bear. “Perhaps.”
“Have you searched the houses?” Jade asked.
Zoulikha nodded. “Two women claim some of their bracelets were gone, as well. Silver bracelets belonging to their mothers and handed down through the generations to wear at weddings and harvest festivals.”
“So someone is a thief. Why do you need me to find this amulet?”
“Because,” said Zoulikha as she reached across and caressed Jade’s cheek with her wrinkled fingers, “it should not be handled by just anyone, and you are also a daughter of the great Dahia.”
CHAPTER 14
Jinni are feared, all the more so because they are so difficult to spot. They may come in
the disguise of an animal. Others appear human. Men report having been married to a
jenniya, which is a very handy explanation for not getting along with one’s spouse. The
easiest way to get rid of such a wife is to let a jackal eat her. Jackals have a taste for jinni.
—The Traveler
INEZ LOOKED AS IF SHE MIGHT EXPLODE when Jade translated that last tidbit. Then, remembering her manners, she managed to control both the volume and tone of her next statement. She could not, however, disguise the quiver in her voice, which alerted Jade to just how upset her mother was.
“This is . . . not possible, Jade. Neither your father nor I am . . . Imazighen.”
“But you are Andalusian, Mother. I believe a goodly number of people have left their, er, mark there, including the Gypsies and the Moors.”
“The family of de Vincente traces its line back countless generations,” said Inez. She held her head high and proud. “Some of your ancestors served in the court of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella.”
“What is bothering you, Mother? What if this story is true? Are these people too barbaric for you? Are you afraid some snob in Taos will take offense?”
“Jade! How dare you accuse me of such thoughts!”
“This news angers your lady mother,” observ
ed Zoulikha. “Does it also distress you?”
Jade shrugged. “I am not sure I believe it. It is one thing to say I am Dahia’s daughter. It is another to prove it.”
Zoulikha adjusted her position on the floor rug, exposing her right leg high above the knee. She took up a drop spindle and a pile of combed wool and deftly began to spin yarn by rolling the spindle shaft down her thigh with her right hand. With the left, she played out the combed fibers, her fingers moving out of memory. The rhythmic motion of rolling, catching the spindle at the knee, and scooping it back up to begin again made a hypnotic background for weaving her story.
“Perhaps you know of the Almoravids, Amazigh tribes from the desert south. They became mighty rulers and spread across the waters to Andalucía,” she said, shifting the accent to another syllable. “They took with them many others, both Arabs and Imazighen, to make their nation and to fight the Nazarene living there. At that time, the kahina holding Elishat’s talisman bore twin girls. The midwife told her which one was born first, but the kahina taught them both. The eldest became kahina, and the second girl married a kaid, a regional chieftain, who went to Andalucía to serve the ruler.” The old woman looked up from her spindle without stopping her motions and peered deeply into Jade’s eyes. “This girl’s blood runs in your veins and in the veins of your mother.”
“It is a pretty story,” said Jade after she translated for her mother, who responded by folding her arms across her chest. “But hardly proof.”
Without breaking either her gaze or rhythmic motions, Zoulikha continued. “Why else do you dream warnings and feel them in your bones? And why else can you speak to jinni?”
“I have never spoken to jinni,” countered Jade. She didn’t bother to contradict the first question. The dreams of danger in the grass or elephants trumpeting to her could easily be explained as her mind sorting through likely scenarios in Africa, but there was that blasted knee ache. Ever since she had received the shrapnel wound during the war, it seemed to throb just before something tried to attack her or her closest friends. Now that she thought on it, it had also ached just before she was taken prisoner recently.
“I saw you in the desert and on a mountain. You spoke to an old man, Boguli.”
Jade started as the old woman named the mysterious and aged native tracker that had helped her elude and eventually apprehend the poachers on Mount Marsabit. “Yes, but he wasn’t a jinn. He was a . . .” She hesitated, not knowing the Arabic or French word for “elephant.” Instead she extended her right arm next to her nose and waved it, making trumpeting sounds. From the corner of her eye she could see her mother’s eyes widen, wondering what in the world her daughter was doing now. Then it occurred to Jade, this woman called Zoulikha actually knew about her recent adventure on Mount Marsabit and the northern desert. Either she had very good informants or she really did have some unusual abilities.
“Yes, Al-Fil,” said Zoulikha, giving the Arabic word for “elephant.” “Giwa in our language.” She smiled, her wrinkled face creasing as she watched Jade’s mouth open in astonishment. “This surprises you.”
“What is going on?” demanded Inez. “What are you talking about?” After Jade explained, her mother said, “We’ll talk about this business of you chasing poachers later, Jade, but with all due respect to our hostess, this is silly. If you are descended from this Dahia, then I am, as well. But I don’t talk to spirits or have premonitions.”
Zoulikha anticipated Inez’s argument and answered before Jade could translate her mother’s statement into Arabic. “Your lady mother does not walk with death.” She nodded to Jade’s left leg. “You do. It entered during the war and stayed there. When it did, it awoke that which was hidden inside you.”
“Let us say for the moment that what you say is true, lady kahina,” said Jade. “What can I do that you or your daughter cannot do? If you could see me with Boguli, you can surely see who has your talisman.”
Zoulikha’s right hand stopped working the shuttle and her left hand drifted down, still holding the tufts of carded wool. Distress and dismay played in her eyes. “I cannot,” she said softly, “and neither can Yamna. A very powerful jinn must hold the knowledge underground. I thought once it was in the old kaid’s kasbah farther up the valley. I thought that he held it to take away our authority to rule ourselves. He is a stern overlord and often demands many goats from my husband as tribute.”
She resumed her spinning. “Then I saw a great and mighty stone gate made of many arches nesting one over the other. Storks sat upon the top. But now all I see when I look into the spring is dirt and old walls or heaps of goatskins. Something in my heart tells me the amulet is in the red city below the mountain. Sometimes I almost see the charm. It tries to call to me, but it is dim, as if something shadows it as when the moon passes over the sun.”
Jade snapped to attention. “I know that symbol, a moon eclipsing the sun.” She reached into her trouser pocket and pulled out the charm she’d found. “I found this outside the tunnels in Azilah. It was in an owl pellet.” She turned to Inez. “This symbol was also on a note left for me in our rooms after I came back from Azilah.”
As she turned back and forth, her sleeve brushed the leather satchel that still hung around her neck. “I nearly forgot about this. I took this pouch from one of the rooms in the riad.” The front was coated in dried clay from where it had been dragged through the culverts, but now a bit of dirt fell away, revealing a golden-colored glint. Jade put the charm back into her pocket, grabbed the end of her skirt, and used it as a rag to wipe away the grime. As she did, she exposed the tooled image of a full moon nearly covering the sun. The sun had been embossed with a bronze leaf, while the moon was stained black. “See? It’s here, as well.”
The old kahina reached across for the bag, so she could inspect it more closely. “Yes,” she croaked. “That is the symbol of the most powerful of the jenniya. The one that Adam first took to wife before our Lord God made Eve. To pronounce the name of any of the people of the night is to invoke them. King Sulaiman, son of David, could do so because of his magic ring. But to pronounce her name could mean death.” She handed the bag back to Jade. “Cover it up. Do not let her see her symbol lest she come for it.”
Jade turned the bag upside down, not out of fear of mythical jinni, but to respect the old woman’s beliefs and wishes. As she did so, she shuddered. Lilith. That was who Zoulikha meant. Again that woman’s name came up. Jade always suspected that someone had steamed open her mother’s letter to her last January in Nairobi. Someone spying on her, trying to find information. The only person with a motive to do that was Olivia Lilith Worthy. That meant the woman had known of Jade’s plans to meet Inez in Tangier. It would be like her to assume the symbol of a legendary demon whose name she bore. And Avery had said she’d left London.
“I don’t see how you can help them, Jade,” said Inez after Jade explained the situation. “She should send some of her own people to find this talisman. Marrakech is a big city. You don’t even know where to begin looking.”
“I think I understand why they need me, Mother. The kahina Zoulikha is, of course, too old to make the trip. Her daughter is too valuable to risk. She’s the next in line. Besides, she has a baby to care for.”
“And you, on the other hand, are expendable? I don’t think so. Let her send some of her men. That Bachir can go.”
“You don’t understand, Mother. You and I may not believe in them, but these people fear these spirits. They won’t, they can’t try to fight one.”
“Well, that still doesn’t mean you have to,” argued Inez. “Let them get one of the French officers in Marrakech to help if they cannot.”
“Do you honestly think they would listen? Or care?” Jade placed a hand on her mother’s shoulder and held it there. “Besides, Mother, I made a promise to help. I do not go back on my word.”
“You were probably tricked into making that promise,” muttered Inez. “Always doing foolish things, rushing in to sav
e someone. Risking yourself in that horrid war.”
Jade sighed. “That’s what Beverly tells me, too. But, Mother, that promise was the price for your freedom. I wouldn’t have found you without Bachir’s help.”
Zoulikha tended to her spindle during this conversation; her daughter made the final preparations for the meal. Inez spoke to them first.
“How is my daughter supposed to find this talisman? And if this jenniya is so strong, how can I be sure my daughter will be safe?” She turned to Jade. “Translate for me, please.” Jade did.
“The talisman has much baraka, holiness, to it,” answered Zoulikha. “It will try to hide lest someone unholy wear it and it loses its holiness. It will recognize a daughter of Dahia and call to Jade. Your daughter has already proven that she can control some of the night people. That is how she was able to command the ones in her prison to chew her bonds. It is how she went through the underground pipes without harm.”
“And will my Jade be able to command this dark jenniya you speak of?”
Zoulikha shook her head. “This one is too powerful. Her symbol is very evil. But if Jade can get Elishat’s amulet, she will be safe.”
Inez grumbled a bit under her breath about obstinate, headstrong daughters and reached for the leather pouch. “I’m not afraid of this symbol. I want to see what it looks like.” When she hefted the bag, she paused. “Feels a bit heavier than what I would expect for something this small.”
Jade reached for the bag. “I hadn’t noticed, but then I had it around my neck and across my chest the entire trip.” She also held it in the air, testing its weight. “I see what you mean. It does feel heavy.”
She drew the guard’s knife from her boot sheath, ignoring her mother’s startled outburst that she’d even have a place in her footwear to hide a knife. After squeezing the bag along the sides and bottom, she inserted the knife point along a seam and slit upward. “It’s not one layer thick, but two. There’s a secret pocket sewn in each side and, I think, another on the bottom.”
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