The Bonehill Curse

by Jon Mayhew

  She freed the latch and the door swung open. Ness gave a gasp as the cool air outside struck her. But everything began to blur and fade into blackness. Azuli’s face swam before her. A flash of flame dazzled her eyes and then she felt weightless and knew nothing more.

  Darkness crushed in on Ness. It made no difference whether her eyes were open or closed. She tried to reach out into the black void that surrounded her but her arms were pinned by her sides. It felt like a band of metal constricted her limbs and body. An icy cold seeped into the marrow of her bones.

  ‘Imagine,’ a voice whispered in her ear, ‘being trapped like this for a week.’ It was the djinn’s voice.

  Ness’s heart pounded. She wriggled and twisted but could not move an inch.

  ‘Where are you?’ Ness cried out. ‘Let me see you.’

  ‘Imagine being trapped for a month. A year. A hundred years. A thousand!’ the djinn hissed. ‘Sealed for ever in a cold metal tomb. Why? Because I didn’t bend my knee to the tyrant Sulayman.’

  ‘What’s that got to do with me? Where are my parents? Why are you doing this?’ Ness’s voice screamed into the pitch black.

  ‘They are safe. For now. Do you think your parents love you yet?’ the djinn mocked her.

  ‘I . . . don’t know,’ Ness muttered.

  ‘Do you love them?’ the djinn sneered.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Ness hissed. ‘Why do you take so much pleasure in tormenting me?’

  ‘Because it’s what I’m used to, Necessity,’ the djinn replied. ‘I think you do love your parents. Why else would you rush all over London looking for them? That’s going to make it so hard. At the end, I mean.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Ness wailed.

  ‘Do you really think those Lashkars can help you find them? A bunch of decrepit old men? Beware of them, Necessity,’ the djinn said, ignoring her comment.

  ‘Why don’t you just leave me alone?’ Ness sobbed.

  ‘Now that would have been a half-decent wish,’ the djinn cackled. ‘But you wanted your parents to love you instead. You have, I believe, five days left.’

  The djinn’s laughter rang in Ness’s ears as she tried unsuccessfully to kick out at the darkness that enveloped her. She tossed and turned, her body becoming freer, light seeping into her vision. Gradually the hard metal casing that surrounded her softened and became more yielding until she felt bedclothes wrapping her.

  With a start she sat up. Ness was in Suha’s room.

  Suha sat staring from the side of the bed, her hands holding Ness’s shoulders. ‘It is all right,’ she said. ‘You are safe.’

  Ness fell back on to her pillows and blew out a sigh of relief. ‘I dreamt of the djinn, of being trapped in a bottle. It was so real.’

  Suha smoothed the hair from Ness’s face. ‘It was only a dream. You are safe now,’ she said. ‘You gave Azuli the slip but he knew where you were going. A good thing too, by the sounds of it. Azuli saved you. Another minute and you would have been . . .’ Suha looked away and shook her head.

  ‘Would have been what?’ Ness asked, frowning.

  ‘The djinn’s strength is growing,’ Suha murmured, avoiding Ness’s gaze. ‘It brings a deadly plague.’

  ‘A plague?’ Ness whispered, thinking of the girls at the Academy and the servants at Lumm’s house.

  ‘Death comes quickly but painfully,’ Suha said. ‘But it is more than just a plague. Once the poor souls have perished from the disease, their bodies become the instruments of the djinn. They rise again as his slaves. We Lashkars call them Pestilents.’

  Ness threw her hand to her mouth. ‘Lumm moved from his seat while I was there,’ she gasped. ‘But he was dead. I saw him with my own eyes.’

  ‘He has become a Pestilent then,’ Suha sighed, shaking her head. ‘A living dead thing mindlessly following the djinn’s commands.’

  ‘That’s horrible,’ Ness whispered. ‘This djinn must be truly evil to use people so.’

  ‘Thankfully Azuli got you away in time,’ Suha said, giving a tight smile.

  ‘He won’t let me forget that in a hurry,’ Ness muttered, rubbing her eyes. She should be grateful but instead her stomach churned and she gritted her teeth. Why couldn’t it have been Jabalah or one of the older Lashkars? ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘Azuli was taken to Hafid almost as soon as he arrived back with you. They have been arguing ever since.’

  ‘About the djinn?’

  ‘About that, and you,’ Suha said.

  ‘Me?’

  ‘About what to do with you.’

  A feeble tapping on the door stopped Ness from questioning Suha further. Hafid leaned against the door frame, wheezing as if the effort of standing was too much, let alone moving. He stared blindly into the room. How does he find his way around? Ness wondered.

  ‘Forgive my intrusion,’ he said in his thin reedy voice. ‘We require your presence, Miss Bonehill. We must decide the best course of action.’

  ‘I’ve told you I must find my parents,’ Ness said with frustration. ‘I haven’t time to talk.’

  ‘I think you’ll find that you have no choice,’ Hafid sighed and shook his head. ‘And as for searching for your parents, you won’t be going anywhere.’

  Wait for luck and wait for death.

  Traditional proverb

  Chapter Thirteen

  Bait in a Trap

  ‘What do you mean, not going anywhere?’ Ness glared at Hafid.

  ‘If you come now then you will find out.’ Hafid looked sombre and Ness gave a growl of indignation as she clambered off the bed. Hafid tilted his head towards Ness, listening to her movements. ‘You rise quickly for one who has had such a shock, Miss Bonehill.’

  ‘I feel much better,’ Ness admitted. It was true – apart from a slightly stiff neck she felt fine.

  ‘Then you will be well enough to present your concerns personally,’ Hafid murmured.

  Ness pulled on her old jacket and followed Hafid as he shuffled out into the alleyways.

  ‘A new day,’ Ness muttered to herself. The third day. Four more to go until I lose everything. But what have I got left to lose?

  The business of Arabesque Alley continued as normal, people bustling to and fro, street vendors crying their wares, except these weren’t the apples and vegetables or flowers and goods that were sold elsewhere in London. Ness could smell spices and incense; she could see curiously shaped fruit and brilliantly coloured cloth. She marvelled at how quickly Hafid moved considering his lack of sight.

  ‘I’ve known these streets for decades,’ Hafid said, as if reading her mind. ‘You don’t always need eyes to see where you’re going.’

  ‘I can’t believe that the Lashkars have been here for all this time and nobody knows,’ Ness said, weaving her way through the crowd after Hafid.

  The old man paused but didn’t look back at her. ‘Some people know we are here. We cause them no problem, they ignore us. If you aren’t looking for something then you aren’t likely to find it. And Arabesque Alley isn’t somewhere you stumble across. I make sure of that.’ He tapped the side of his curved nose and gave a sly grin.

  Ness stared after the old man. ‘Are you some kind of magician?’ she said.

  Hafid stopped again. ‘Some may call me that but what I can do is nothing compared to the power of the djinn. I have but a small fraction of the wisdom and gifts Sulayman commanded – charms, minor enchantments. They keep us safe.’

  They came to another whitewashed tenement. Hafid grunted as he clambered up the steps and pushed the door open.

  Inside, Taimur stood glowering and his fury was mirrored in the eyes of Azuli next to him. Jabalah sat on a heavily cushioned sofa at the side of the room. He gave Ness a brief smile and glanced sidelong at Hafid as the old man slumped beside him.

  ‘So, Necessity Bonehill,’ Taimur said, ‘once more, you stumble into danger and Azuli has to pull you clear.’

  Ness pursed her lips and stared at her feet.

 
‘My son risked his life against the Pestilents that the djinn left to finish Miss Bonehill off and he doesn’t even get a word of thanks?’ Taimur almost spat.

  ‘I didn’t ask him to follow me,’ Ness snapped back, staring Taimur in the eye. ‘I can look after myself.’

  ‘Ha!’ Taimur laughed. ‘Another moment and you would have joined Lumm, a mindless dead thing spreading contagion in the streets.’

  ‘We took care of that, Father,’ Azuli said, laying a hand on his arm.

  ‘Took care?’ Ness felt light-headed.

  ‘We burned the house down,’ Azuli said darkly. ‘And all those inside it.’

  ‘Lord above.’ Ness sat down heavily.

  ‘This isn’t some game we are playing,’ Taimur hissed through clenched teeth.

  ‘This is our solemn duty, Necessity,’ Jabalah said, his face etched with regret. ‘We must protect mankind from the djinn regardless of the cost. We cannot afford to take any chances.’

  ‘They were all dead at Gladwell Gardens long before you arrived,’ Hafid said softly. ‘The fire will slow the contagion. But every hour that the djinn is free is another hour for his poison to spread through the veins of this city.’

  ‘Then we must find him quickly,’ Azuli cried, slapping his fist into his palm. ‘Take the silver blade to him.’

  ‘As I said, we must think first,’ Hafid said, his voice rising, ‘then act.’ He rubbed his long fingers over his wrinkled face. ‘Why would the djinn kill Lumm? It doesn’t make sense. Unless . . .’ He balled his hands into fists and cracked his joints, deep in thought. ‘How many wishes did the djinn offer you, Miss Bonehill?’

  ‘Just one,’ Ness said, trying to follow Hafid’s train of thought. ‘And then he said he would return for me in seven days.’

  ‘Djinns are bound by the spell that traps them,’ Hafid muttered. ‘He had to offer at least one wish and then he’d be free. Yet we are sure that your father unleashed the djinn and succeeded in returning him to the bottle.’

  ‘How is that possible,’ Jabalah said, scratching his bald head, ‘unless he wished the djinn straight back into the bottle?’

  ‘I do not know,’ Hafid said, shaking his head. ‘It seems unlikely that Bonehill made such a wish because he came into great wealth soon after the time we think he released the creature.’

  ‘My father has always been wealthy,’ Ness snapped, frowning.

  Jabalah gave an apologetic smile and shook his head. ‘Your father was a poor army captain in the Hinderton Rifles fourteen years ago. He married a rich heiress.’

  ‘The Hinderton Rifles?’ Ness repeated. Sergeant Major Morris’s regiment. Do Major Morris and Father know each other?

  ‘Your mother’s parents disowned their daughter for marrying a man with so few prospects,’ Jabalah said, his voice soft. He looked at the floor. ‘But within eighteen months, her parents were dead, your mother inherited everything and you were born. Bonehill was quite the respectable gentleman all of a sudden.’

  ‘I think we can safely assume that the djinn had a hand in all that,’ Taimur sneered.

  Ness didn’t know what to say. She had been told that her grandparents had died in a coaching accident. Something had run out in front of them, startling the horses. The coach had turned over, throwing the coachman clear but killing the passengers.

  ‘But with only one wish, how would Bonehill have returned him to the bottle?’ Hafid mused. ‘Perhaps it was a pact of some kind, and I suspect that Lumm was involved somehow. That would explain why the djinn attacked him too.’

  Ness knew that others were involved – she thought of the letter she had taken from Lumm’s desk. It warned Mrs Olwen Quilfy that the djinn was coming for her. If she could find this lady, then the djinn would appear eventually. If it wasn’t too late already. The vague inklings of a plan began to form in her mind.

  ‘You appear lost in thought, young lady,’ Hafid said, turning his ear to her. ‘Do you know of anyone else who might be involved?’

  The words of the djinn echoed in Ness’s mind. Azuli may have rescued her at Lumm’s house but these old, decrepit Lashkars couldn’t stop the djinn. She had to do this on her own.

  ‘Only Uncle Carlos ever came to the house,’ Ness murmured, casting her eyes down. ‘I just knew Lumm by name. I can’t recall any other acquaintances. I was too young to notice.’

  ‘We waste time with this cross-examining, Hafid,’ Taimur cried, throwing his hands up. ‘We need to find that damnable creature!’

  ‘Patience, Taimur,’ Hafid said, rubbing his temples and frowning. ‘Believe me, I am trying to seek out the djinn by all means possible. I can sense him, but he is still weak. I reach out to him with my mind.’

  ‘And what if your great mind can’t find him?’ Taimur grumbled. Ness could see spots of red beneath Taimur’s grey beard. He trembled with frustration and rage.

  ‘The djinn gave Miss Bonehill seven days,’ Hafid whispered. ‘If all else fails, he will come for her when the time is up – and we will be ready.’

  ‘But what about my parents?’ Ness gasped. ‘I won’t just sit here and wait while they’re at that creature’s mercy!’

  ‘We will confront the djinn before then, Miss Bonehill,’ Jabalah said, clasping his hands together. ‘I am sure of it!’

  ‘But you must stay with us in the meantime,’ Hafid said, his voice low.

  ‘Azuli,’ Taimur whispered, ‘bring the silver sword.’

  Azuli bowed and scurried into a side room, leaving Ness sitting in awkward silence as Taimur paced back and forth.

  ‘We cannot use the blade until we have found the djinn,’ Hafid said, shaking his head.

  ‘I just feel better with it in my grasp,’ Taimur replied. Ness could see that he had once been a great warrior but now his wrists were stick thin within the baggy cuffs of his shirt.

  Azuli returned with the sword cradled in both his arms, a richly decorated cloth swaddling the blade. Taimur eased the cloth back. Ness could see a dull, tarnished blade swirled with intricate carvings. With a sigh, Taimur lifted the blade from Azuli’s outstretched arms and slashed the air. Ness recognised the curved scimitar shape from her lessons with Major Morris.

  ‘Careful, Taimur,’ Jabalah said, ducking theatrically. ‘You’ll take someone’s head off.’

  ‘I’d forgotten how heavy it is,’ Taimur panted.

  Ness frowned, remembering Major Morris telling her how light a sword the scimitar was.

  Taimur swung the blade again, carving a clumsy figure of eight above his head. With a curse, he lost his balance, stumbling towards Ness, who threw herself to one side. The blade whistled past her ear. Taimur landed with a loud thump and the clatter of the silver sword rang around the room.

  ‘Father!’ Azuli cried, leaping forward.

  Taimur shook him off as he scrambled to his feet, embarrassment reddening his face. ‘I’m fine!’ he snapped, stooping to pick up the sword.

  ‘Let me carry the sword, Father,’ Azuli said, extending his hand.

  Taimur pulled away from him, his breath ragged, his eyes wide. ‘You think I’m too old and infirm, is that it?’ he growled.

  ‘No, I just –’

  ‘He didn’t mean anything by it, Taimur,’ Jabalah cut in.

  ‘I swung that blade before you were born,’ Taimur raged, flecks of spit flying from his lips. ‘When our children stood at our sides.’

  ‘But that was a long time ago!’ Azuli pleaded, paling. ‘Father –’

  ‘Before we found you, abandoned at the dockyard,’ Taimur yelled. ‘You think I’m no longer strong enough to carry the last sword of Sulayman but I am a true Lashkar.’

  ‘Taimur, enough!’ Hafid croaked, raising his hand.

  Jabalah jumped to his feet but the anger had fled from Taimur.

  Taimur slapped the flat of the blade against Azuli’s chest. ‘Polish it,’ he hissed. ‘I want that djinn to see his own terrified reflection in that blade before I hack the head from his plague-ridden body.’r />
  Azuli gripped the sword, his face taut. For a moment, Ness thought he was going to say something but he turned on his heel and stamped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Ness paused in the stunned silence that filled the room, then she hurried after Azuli. She had one chance and she was going to take it now.

  A wolf hungers after the lamb even with his last breath.

  Traditional proverb

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Bloody Vicar

  Ness found Azuli sulking by two huge barrels at the side of the courtyard. The sword lay on top of the barrels and he smoothed the cloth over the carved metal. Ness couldn’t read the script along the blade.

  ‘What does it say?’ she muttered, standing awkwardly next to the sullen boy. His thick mop of black hair and scowling expression made him look like a sulky eight-year-old.

  ‘It is not wise to name the djinn until you are about to strike,’ he mumbled, sliding the fabric down the blade. ‘Not that I will ever get to use it.’

  ‘I think they are wrong to overlook you,’ Ness said.

  Azuli stopped polishing. ‘Really?’ He sighed and dropped the cloth on to the barrel. ‘They are so weak now,’ he said. ‘These last few years have taken their toll on the Lashkars. Harsh winters, the damp and stink from that foul river. You saw my father just now. He could barely hold this thing above his shoulder. How is he to fight a djinn?’

  ‘But he can’t see beyond his own pride,’ Ness agreed. ‘None of them can. Not even Hafid and he’s meant to be wise!’

  Azuli’s face darkened. ‘He is wise,’ he muttered, then sighed again. ‘I feel so disloyal. I wish I could just take the sword and hunt the djinn myself!’

  ‘And why don’t you?’ Ness asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

  Azuli’s eyes lit up. ‘Take the sword?’ he said, lifting the blade so that the morning light glinted on it, dazzling Ness. ‘If I knew where the djinn was then –’

  ‘I found a name at Lumm’s house,’ Ness interrupted, excited at how easily Azuli accepted the idea. ‘Probably the next victim. We could go together, lie in wait for the djinn . . .’