by Jon Mayhew
There in the centre, surrounded by scattered bones and slime, sat Zaakiel.
Ness bit her lip. He looked strong, powerful.
‘Remember what we agreed, Grossford,’ Bonehill muttered. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you.’
‘What’s this, Carlos?’ the creature said, tilting his head. He had no nose to speak of, just two slits that expanded and contracted every now and then. His pointed chin ended in a wispy beard of wiry, black hair. Sores and boils wept from his parchment-like skin. ‘A conspiracy?’
‘Do it,’ Bonehill snapped. ‘Now.’
‘I wish . . .’ Grossford’s voice became a hoarse whine. ‘I . . . I . . . wish . . .’
‘For God’s sake, man, pull yourself together,’ Bonehill cried.
‘I wish that you were dead,’ Grossford sobbed, running his words together. ‘Now. This instant. Without doing another thing.’
The djinn’s thin eyebrows rose, wrinkling his brow. He heaved a long, heavy sigh.
‘Thank you,’ he whispered, falling forward. ‘After three thousand years of selfish, twisted, sickening wishes, this is the one wish I would have made for myself.’
Zaakiel gave a gasp and clutched his throat. Slowly, a sliver of blue light grew between his eyelids, widening and growing until the dazzling flare of his eyes expanded, consuming his head, neck and shoulders. Only Ness could watch; the others in the cellar cowered and covered their eyes against the blinding light. Zaakiel made no scream or howl of pain.
With a final brilliant flash, he vanished, leaving a smouldering black shadow on the ground and silence, apart from the sobbing of Widow Quilfy.
The Seven barely moved, still dazzled, recovering their vision in the dim cellar.
Then Ness was floating again, drifting, being pulled towards her mother’s second wish. The rooftops of London spread out before her again and time seemed to rush forward. Fogs rolled up from the Thames with incredible speed; its waters rose and fell like some creature breathing; snow tumbled and melted quickly as the years passed with speed.
New memories grew inside Ness: Christmases with her mother, a governess at home, dancing, laughter. She smiled as the new reality began to form.
But then it stopped, as if someone had snagged a leash and pulled Ness back from the new-found happiness. Ness stood in the shadows by the banks of the Thames. The moon shone through the latticework of scaffolding and rigging that formed this building site, reflected in the puddles of rank river water that lay in the rutted mud.
Two figures faced each other at the edge of the half-finished Thames embankment. Ness could see her father gripping Uncle Carlos’s lapels. Carlos grinned drunkenly, his skin grey under the stubbly chin.
‘Damn you, Grossford. Haven’t you had enough already?’ Bonehill hissed.
‘Enough?’ Grossford slurred. ‘I’ve only just begun. You said you’d take care of me. I made the last wish. Remember what you promised!’
‘But every time we pay you off, you come back for more,’ Bonehill snarled. ‘I’ve lost count of the times I’ve had to buy you out of jail or grease the palm of some ne’er-do-well who beat you at cards. You can’t afford to carry on like this and neither can we.’
‘I can do what I please.’ Grossford grabbed hold of Bonehill’s arms. Ness noticed the shabbiness of his jacket, the stains and frayed cuffs. ‘You owe me.’
‘No,’ Bonehill said quite calmly. ‘Enough is enough. Tonight is your last payment from us. If you come sniffing around Bonehill House again, I’ll have you thrown into the street.’
Grossford gave a throaty chuckle. ‘You don’t scare me, Anthony. I remember you when you were nothing. A worthless army officer with debts as big as mine. Not any more. You parade around town with your carriages and airs and graces. Quite the family man too. Tell me, how is little Necessity?’
Ness gave a gasp. It sounded so strange to hear them talk about her as if she weren’t there.
‘Leave her out of this, Grossford,’ Bonehill snapped, shaking him by his lapels.
‘She is well, I trust?’ Grossford grinned.
‘I’m warning you.’ Bonehill’s voice was low now.
‘I only ask because it would be a shame if any harm befell her,’ Grossford said, smiling innocently. Sweat trickled down his forehead.
‘No one threatens my family,’ Bonehill said, his eyes wide with rage. He shook himself free of Grossford and gave him a sharp push.
With a yell, Grossford fell back. For a second, he seemed poised, leaning ridiculously far back over the edge, his arms spinning as he tried to regain his balance.
Ness stared in horror as, in that moment, he flicked his hands forward and gripped Bonehill’s collar. Together they disappeared over the side of the embankment. Ness squeezed her eyes shut at the distant splash from the black Thames water below.
‘Father!’ Ness yelled, trying to run to him.
But the edge seemed further and further away. She felt so weak that the slightest breeze from the river blew her back. Tears coursed down her cheeks and time rolled further on.
More scenes played out before Ness. Policemen huddled around a shadowy form on the riverside. Her mother standing tall and gaunt at the funeral. Ness saw Lumm alive and well, staring pompously at her mother as they shook hands over the grave.
The Reverend Cullwirthy slipped between the headstones towards her. Ness could feel her neck prickle as the man drew nearer in his vestments and black cloth. Hypocrite, she thought. He’s lucky to be alive! She shivered at the memory of his hideous transformation.
‘Mrs Bonehill,’ he said, giving Eliza’s hand a gentle shake. ‘My condolences in this time of sadness. If there’s anything more I can do . . .’
‘Yes,’ Eliza said. ‘There is.’
‘Madam, just say the word,’ Cullwirthy replied, licking his lips and smoothing his lank brown hair back.
‘You can scurry back down whatever hole you were in when my husband found you and never darken my door again. Do I make myself clear? I allowed you to conduct this service to keep up appearances. You were a friend of my husband’s inasmuch as he had any friends at all, but now he has gone you will never be welcome at my house.’
Cullwirthy gave a curt nod and stamped off across the graveyard to the church. Ness grinned. She wanted to hug her mother but still time rolled on.
As she drifted higher up across the ever-changing London skyline, she watched buildings come down, other buildings rise and the embankment grow.
The pain of her father’s death faded. Newer memories began to form in her mind again. Uncles and aunts she’d never met before, driven away by Anthony Bonehill’s arrogance, now lavished love and gifts upon her. She saw herself singing at a piano, riding a pony with cousins she’d never known she had. Her mother’s laughter rang freely around Bonehill House and Rowson the butler went smiling about his duties. A rather strict but fair governess lurked in the corners of the house and Ness realised that she never had to return to Rookery Heights. In fact, she’d never attended the Academy. She knew Sarah, Mollie and Hannah were all fit and well somewhere. So is Miss Pinchett, Ness thought, but you can’t have everything.
Ness smiled and closed her eyes, revelling in this new happiness. A warm drowsiness crept over her and she melted into a delicious dreamless sleep.
The creaking of her bedroom door and the smell of toast tickling her nose woke Ness. She found herself lying in a bed. Her bed. In her room. Two sets of memories jostled in her head but somehow the djinn and the Pestilents seemed more like a vivid unpleasant dream. Ness smiled and looked up at her mother, who carried breakfast in on a tray.
‘You slept late, Necessity.’ Eliza smiled, setting the tray on to Ness’s lap once she had sat up in bed. ‘I thought I’d bring this up myself. Rowson pulled quite a face.’
Ness smiled. ‘He’s such an old woman sometimes!’
‘You’d better hurry up though,’ Eliza said, clapping her hands excitedly. ‘Evenyule is visiting this morning. Appare
ntly he’s bringing some of your father’s belongings that were cluttering up his shop. Sergeant Major Morris is just getting the carriage ready.’
‘Sergeant Major Morris?’ Ness grinned. An image of Morris in smart footman’s livery popped into her memory. ‘Of course!’
Eliza stared deep into Ness’s eyes and, for a moment, they shared the secret knowledge of the other reality that never was. Ness frowned.
‘What troubles you, Ness?’ Eliza said, smiling gently.
‘Your wishes,’ Ness murmured. ‘Why didn’t you wish for the djinn never to have been found?’
‘Because if the djinn had never been found, I would never have had you, my love,’ Eliza said, settling on the end of the bed.
Ness returned her mother’s smile but she noticed a glint of sadness in her eye. With her mother’s choice of wishes, Father’s wish remained and Ness’s grandparents had still died in the freak carriage accident.
‘But why did Father and Uncle Carlos have to die?’ Ness said in a small voice.
‘They knew about you and would never have left you alone,’ Eliza sighed. ‘You would have had no peace while either of those men lived. Anthony would have killed you in his lust for power, especially after my third wish. I had to wish them dead.’
‘But you wished I was human and not a djinn,’ Ness said. ‘Father would have had no reason to harm me.’
‘Believe me, Necessity, your father would have stopped at nothing to achieve his dream of controlling a djinn,’ Eliza said, her voice thick with emotion. ‘I can’t bear to think what he would have put you through in some insane attempt to reverse the wish. Now, will you answer one of my questions?’
‘All right.’ Ness looked nervously at her mother.
‘Your one condition. Why did you still want to remember everything that happened?’ Eliza said, tilting her head. ‘We could have lived in blissful ignorance.’
Ness felt her cheeks flush. ‘Because I’ve changed,’ she muttered, looking down. ‘I didn’t want to be who I was before.’
‘I don’t understand.’ Eliza frowned and ran a finger through Ness’s thick black hair.
‘I was horrible before all this – cruel, a bully.’ Ness’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Like Father. Besides, there was someone I didn’t want to forget.’
‘Someone?’ Eliza gave a smile. ‘Come on, you can tell me.’
Ness froze, holding her toast somewhere between mouth and plate, and stared at her mother. ‘The Lashkars,’ she whispered finally. ‘Could it be?’
‘Pardon?’ Eliza said, still smiling. ‘Ness, you aren’t making any sense.’
But Necessity Bonehill jumped out of her bed, sending her breakfast tray clattering across the covers, and ran downstairs to her father’s study.
She who can wait obtains what she wishes.
Traditional proverb
Epilogue
Ness gripped the front of the carpet, skimming it over the rooftops, veering round chimney pots at the last moment and whooping through arches. The folk below looked up but few were fast enough to see anything and those that did refused to believe their eyes. It was a chill morning but her thick scarf kept her warm. If Mama hadn’t wished for me to be an ordinary human girl, then I could fly myself. She grinned. But I like it better this way.
One hand kept a firm grip on the carpet, the other clutched the precious object in her palm. She slowed the carpet down, taking in the alleyways and trying to remember the route as she skimmed towards the alcove that held the secret gateway to Arabesque Alley.
What if they’ve moved on? Ness thought. There’s no djinn, so there’s no reason for them to stay in London. Perhaps the Alley wouldn’t be there, just crumbling slums. But Ness soon saw the alcove and found herself gazing down on a familiar busy square.
The weak morning sun shimmered on the water in the fountain at the centre and reflected off the whitewashed buildings, making the whole place appear bright. The blue shutters were closed against the chill mist that persisted from the dawn.
The Lashkars shuffled around from stall to stall, carrying baskets and bales on their backs or heads. A lone figure sat at the fountain’s edge, shoulders slumped.
Azuli! Ness’s heart leapt. Without thinking, she swept down on the carpet and landed in front of him. The crowd cried out. An old woman screamed and stumbled back into one of the stalls, sending fruit rolling across the cobbles in all directions.
‘What on earth?’ Azuli jumped up, dragging his scimitar from his belt. He swung the blade in a deadly arc, barely giving Ness a chance to throw herself backward.
‘Azuli!’ Ness cried. ‘It’s me, you stupid boy!’
‘You know my name! What enchantment is this?’ Azuli demanded. ‘And who are you calling stupid?’ He thrust again at Ness, who leapt aside easily.
‘It’s no enchantment,’ Ness began. ‘Well, it is, but . . .’
The inhabitants of Arabesque Alley gathered around, eyeing Ness warily.
‘A-ha!’ Azuli snarled. ‘What are you, some kind of djinn? Well, you’ve come to the wrong place. I am a Lashkar of Sulayman, skilled in fighting the powers of evil.’
‘I’m not a djinn,’ Ness said, ducking another swipe. ‘Now hear me out or I’ll have to take that sword from you.’
People began to run off. Someone called Hafid’s name.
‘Ha! No man or woman has bested Azuli of the Lashkars of Sulayman yet,’ Azuli said, puffing his chest out.
‘Only because you’ve never actually fought anyone,’ Ness replied, blocking his sword arm and kicking his legs from under him.
‘Stop this at once!’ a voice cried from behind Ness.
She turned to see Jabalah and Taimur pushing through the crowd, followed closely by Hafid.
‘Azuli! What is going on?’ Taimur barked. ‘What are you doing brawling in the square with a . . .’ He stopped and stared open-mouthed at Ness. ‘A girl?’
Azuli scrambled to his feet, glaring at Ness and dusting himself down.
‘I wondered how long it would take you to find us again, Necessity Bonehill,’ Hafid said, smiling.
‘You know me?’ Ness stared at the old man. ‘You . . . you remember?’
‘I have a little ancient wisdom,’ Hafid said. ‘I can still see things that might have been, or have been and have . . . changed.’ Hafid flicked a frown towards Azuli. ‘Is he being difficult?’
‘Nothing I can’t handle.’ Ness beamed, taking a step towards Azuli.
‘Hafid,’ Jabalah said, scratching his head, ‘what are you talking about? Do you know this young lady?’
‘You may come to understand in time,’ Hafid said, giving an enigmatic smile. ‘For now, believe me when I say that Miss Necessity Bonehill is our honoured guest and should be treated accordingly.’
Jabalah exchanged glances with Taimur and then bowed low to Ness.
‘Miss Bonehill,’ Jabalah said, taking her hand, ‘it’s an honour to meet you.’
‘Thank you, Jabalah.’ Ness smiled mischievously at the man’s startled face.
‘How does she know my name?’ Jabalah stuttered.
‘Charmed, I am sure.’ Taimur gave a curt nod and folded his arms. ‘Wait a moment. Bonehill? Are you Anthony Bonehill’s daughter?’
‘She is nothing like her late father, Taimur,’ Hafid said, calming the gaunt warrior. ‘Besides, whatever you think of them, we owe the Bonehills a debt of gratitude for destroying the last djinn.’
‘You know about that?’ Ness said, surprised.
‘The last sword melted away soon after Grossford wished Zaakiel dead,’ Hafid said, smiling. ‘It took but a few free drinks to verify the truth from Carlos.’
‘I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt,’ Taimur muttered, glaring at Ness. ‘But I still want to know why you knocked my son over.’
‘She took me by surprise, Father, on that carpet,’ Azuli gabbled. ‘She flew out of the sky!’
Ness rolled the carpet up and hugged it close.
�
�Enough of this,’ Hafid said, holding a bony hand up. ‘I am pleased to see you, Necessity, but what brings you to our humble marketplace?’
‘This ring,’ Ness murmured and opened her hand to reveal the bloodstone. ‘I awoke this morning and remembered it.’
‘Remembered?’ Hafid repeated. ‘What did you remember?’
Ness drew Hafid aside. ‘When my father tried to draw me into the bloodstone,’ Ness whispered, ‘I heard voices crying for help from within.’
Hafid’s wizened face paled. ‘Could it be?’ he hissed. ‘Where did your father come by this ring?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Ness admitted. ‘He was very secretive about such matters but he discovered it some ten years ago.’
‘The Lashkars were cursed by the djinn Amoteth ten years ago,’ Hafid said, his voice barely audible. ‘Could they have been trapped in the same stone?’
‘How do we open it?’ Ness stammered, feverishly running a finger over the stone.
‘It just needs breaking,’ Hafid said. ‘A simple sword blow would suffice.’
He took the ring with trembling fingers and placed it on the edge of the fountain.
Jabalah stepped forward. ‘Hafid,’ he said, his face creased with concern, ‘what are you doing?’
‘You’ll see, Jabalah,’ Hafid said, smiling. ‘Strike that ring. Hit the jewel with all your might.’
‘But –’
‘Just humour me,’ Hafid said, raising his hand. ‘Please, strike it with your sword.’
Sensing possible danger, the people of Arabesque Alley shuffled back to the edges of the market square. Jabalah glanced over to Taimur then unsheathed his sword.
Ness could barely watch as Jabalah raised his scimitar above his head and paused for a second. The air whistled as the butcher’s blade sliced down on the ring. Jabalah gave a yell as metal struck stone with a loud clang. The sword grated down on the side of the fountain and the ring whirled off across the square with a metallic ping.
There was silence. It seemed everyone in the square sensed something was about to happen and was holding their breath.
Thin tendrils of red smoke began to emanate from the cracked jewel. The smoke thickened and became a red mist that filled the square so that Ness couldn’t see more than an arm’s length in front of her. People coughed and spluttered around her, vague phantom shapes in the blood-red fog.