The shadow moved towards the tent flap. A frisson of fear darted down my spine and I finally managed to rouse myself.
The shape reached the opening, and I braced as it ducked down to enter. I took a breath, ready to scream and wake up Dhav.
Then there was a sound. A meaty, squelching, strangely familiar sound. The cat walked in.
I relaxed, letting out my pent up breath with a hiss. The weird shadow had just been a trick of the light. Or a half-dream. Balthazar purred.
“Good boy,” I whispered. “Come here.”
He curled up next to me, nose-to-paw, and promptly fell asleep. I drifted off watching his tail twitch as he dreamed of chasing mice. Or maybe wolves.
In the morning he was gone. I lay for a while, too drowsy to get up. Dhav’s arm was still coiled loosely about my waist. I twisted onto my other side and watched him sleep.
When he was relaxed, like now, his face looked ready to burst into a grin at any moment. I realised how much of himself he held in control when he was awake.
I brushed the stubborn little curl back off his head, and he murmured in his sleep. The prince who used to dream of flying carpets. I hoped he still did.
I slid out from under his arm and went to heat some water for tea. I’d spotted a thin stream trickling through rocks just a little way back from our campsite, and I splashed some onto my face, relishing the icy cold. I gave my teeth a quick brush and headed back to the tent, looking out for Balthazar as I did so.
“Here, boy. Breakfast. I have some leftover stew if you…”
I tripped over something on the ground.
It was half a moose.
I let out a squeal as I dropped my toothbrush, staring disbelievingly at the carcass. Its back quarters were gone, but the head and front half were intact. Steam was still rising from it, and judging by the fresh blood spilling out of its guts, it hadn’t been dead long.
Balthazar sat next to it looking proud.
Dhav bolted out of the tent, knife in hand.
“Samira, are you…?”
“Look, look!” I pointed manically at the moose. “It wasn’t there a minute ago!”
Dhav squatted down to take a look.
“Hm. Fresh meat. Let’s carve a few fillets.”
“You’re thinking about food? Seriously?”
“We shouldn’t let it go to waste. That stew last night left a lot to be desired.” He got busy with his blade.
“But what kind of animal did this?” I scanned the rocks anxiously. “What if it’s still around?”
“Well, it can’t still be hungry. It’s eaten half a moose, after all.”
“But don’t you want to know what it is?”
Dhav eyed the cat and shrugged.
“I think it’s probably best not to dwell on it. The answer will only be worrying.”
Balthazar gave a small belch, and I noticed he had a red smear on his chin. He yawned and began to wash himself.
Dhav was right. He was one strange animal.
We had moose steaks at midday, cooked rare with salt and pepper, utterly delicious. The shared meals, and the hours spent in each other’s company, were starting to give us a sense of camaraderie. I felt relaxed in his presence, and he in mine. For the first time since this journey had started, I thought we were beginning to know one another.
We talked about inconsequential things. He weaseled out of me a secret love for old black and white movies, and I discovered he’d once had a desperate crush on Taylor Swift.
“But if you tell anyone, I will have you hunted down and slapped in chains,” he growled, as I giggled helplessly.
It was a moment of levity that wouldn’t be repeated for a long while.
In the late afternoon, we reached the mountain pass. A black obelisk marked the start of the final stretch, a dark omen of what lay ahead. It stood like a warning sign at the head of the pass, a narrow ridge we had to cross, with a vertiginous drop on one side.
Balthazar refused to go any further.
“I think this is as far as he goes,” said Dhav. “Al Uddin’s land is over that ridge.”
The cat gazed at us both with its blue stare, as if trying to fix us in its memory. I hoped it wasn’t because he thought he wouldn’t see us again. Then he turned tail and headed back the way we’d come.
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” I asked anxiously. “He’s so small.”
Dhav snorted.
“I think that creature is well able to take care of himself. You should be more worried about us.”
I eyed the path.
“We have to walk along that? I might need to lose ten pounds just to fit on it.”
“We go sideways. And make sure you lean in towards the rockface.”
We stepped onto the ridge and inched along it carefully, seeking handholds on the rockface. I was glad our backs were to the drop, so I wouldn’t have to look down. The one glance I’d snatched as we stepped onto the path had been enough. I couldn’t even see the bottom.
“How are you doing, little thief?”
“Reconsidering my life choices. Maybe I should have been an accountant after all.”
“And miss all this excitement?”
“Boredom sounds strangely attractive right now.”
As we rounded a hairpin bend, we saw our destination for the first time. It stuck up from the blasted landscape, twisted and malignant like a cancerous bone.
A chill coursed down my spine.
The tower.
We’d arrived.
Chapter Twenty Six
We stepped off the ridge into Al Uddin’s territory. The ground was barren, with none of the wildflowers and mountain grasses we’d seen on the other side.
The air was warmer, but it smelled sour and stagnant, as though it had been released from underground. The rocks around us were black and fissured, strangely lumpen. They looked as if they had melted and reformed, over and over again.
There was magic here. I could feel it. But it was old and warped and had changed the very landscape. It was toxic, and I knew the man who wielded it was equally poisonous. I knew, because my birthmark wasn’t just itching. It was burning.
Dusk was falling and I wished fervently we had waited until morning. The deepening shadows gave a sinister cast to the distorted landscape.
We looked towards the tower.
“Do you think he’ll give you the antidote right away?” I asked.
“From what I’ve read in the books, he was a bit of a wily one. A trickster.” Dhav gave me a sideways glance. “Like you.”
“You think he’ll try to con us.”
“I find it hard to believe he would want to help the descendant of the man who trapped him here.”
“So what’s the plan?”
“As I said before, as soon as I have the potion for Raj I will kill him. You retrieve your ring, and we go.”
“But he has magic, he can move earth…”
“He’ll have to move it exceedingly quickly if he’s to beat me,” said Dhav firmly. “And anyway, I have you on my side.”
He sounded so confident that I fell silent. But I had a bad feeling. And my dread intensified as we approached the tower.
I realised it was the topmost part of a building which had sunk into the earth. A window was visible here and there just above the surface, but most of it had been submerged. As if the ground had opened up and swallowed it. The only thing left was the tower, sticking into the sky like a gnarled finger.
“What do you think happened here?” I asked through dry lips.
“I suspect he used his powers to try to escape his prison, but only succeeded in cracking the land beneath his palace. He probably stopped when he realised he was in danger of sinking his tower too.”
I shuddered. A century trapped in a tower would have been infinitely worse if the tower had sunk beneath the ground. I imagined Al Uddin’s anger, then his desperation. All those years, alone. No wonder he was mad.
There was a door set in
to the base of the tower. We started towards it, pausing only to drop our coats and rucksacks. We didn’t want to be encumbered when we faced the enemy.
“What about the sword?” I asked.
Dhav looked at it regretfully.
“I can’t hide it anywhere. I’ll stick with the throwing knives.”
He checked his blades, still in their harness against his forearm and covered by his long sleeves. He was counting on Al Uddin to assume he was weapon-less.
I rubbed my birthmark, my sense of foreboding growing by the second.
“Are you sure about this?” I began. And then the door opened.
We glanced at each other and took a breath. Together, we walked in.
The interior was gloomy, and there was something weird going on with perspectives. It looked far bigger inside the tower than it had outside.
It smelled of decay and regret.
Mouldering tapestries hung torn and tattered. They were so old, it was impossible to make out the embroidered scenes they once depicted. Similarly, paintings had been ripped and shredded as if in anger. Their canvases drooped limply from their frames.
There was one exception, one painting that had been untouched, and I moved towards it for a closer look. It was a portrait of a beautiful young woman wearing a crown, with a thick braid of dark hair hanging over one shoulder. Her eyes smiled mischievously, and there was a white tiger lying at her feet. If I had to guess, I’d say this was Jaswinder.
It was the only undamaged thing in the place. Even the walls themselves were cracked, with tree roots poking through the holes. They lay across the floor, twisted and gnarled, like vipers waiting for some unsuspecting victim to step on them.
Statues stood in arched alcoves along the walls, long-ago gods and heroes, now pitted and broken. Here and there a dismembered arm or head lay forgotten on the floor, marble casualties gathering dust.
My eyes followed the line of statues to a single throne-like chair at the far end. A solitary figure was seated there.
“Welcome to my home.”
Al Uddin’s voice was dry and papery. Like the rustle of autumn leaves, or the slither of a soft body through the undergrowth. A man not used to speaking out loud. My birthmark throbbed.
“I love what you’ve done to the place,” I said, feigning bravado. The figure in the chair moved restlessly.
“Djinn. Come closer.”
I made to step forward, and Dhav caught my arm.
“I’ve come for the antidote, Al Uddin. Where is it?”
“Let me see my prize.”
“You’re not laying a hand on her until I have the cure.”
There was a moment’s pause. Then the shadowy figure got to his feet and started towards us.
His steps were slow and deliberate, but they weren’t the steps of an old man. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I saw he wasn’t the elderly decrepit madman I’d been expecting.
He was young. Older than Dhav, but still a young man, surely no more than his late twenties. He was wearing a long dark robe with a black sash wound about his waist. And I saw with shock that he was attractive.
His skin was smooth and unlined, and his black hair curled around his collar unmarred by a single strand of grey. At first sight, he looked like a romantic Hollywood hero. This man had been trapped for a hundred years? He hadn’t aged a day.
But when I looked deeper, I saw the years had indeed left their scars. There was cruelty in the line of his jaw, a bitterness in the twist of his lips. And there was something else, too. Something in the way he fixed his eyes on me. Some derangement that made me shudder.
He smiled. Or at least, he carved his lips into the semblance of a smile.
“You look like Amal.”
“She was my grandmother.” I kept my voice steady.
“Indeed? She was my favourite. She brought me great riches and power, before she turned on me.”
“That was your own fault. You kept her as a slave. You deserved to be cursed.”
Dhav tightened his grip on my arm, as if to warn me to tread carefully, but Al Uddin laughed. The sound was grating.
“Amal enjoyed her power. She was born to it. Her blood sang with it. Whatever she may have told you, she loved having the abilities of a genie.”
“You’re lying.”
“She was a fire mage before I transformed her, was she not?” Al Uddin’s dark eyes bored into mine. “And what are you, hm? I wonder. I see your mark. I know you have power, my ghuls told me as much. But they lack the vocabulary to be precise.”
Dhav pushed me behind him and regarded Al Uddin coldly.
“Your business with the djinn can be concluded when you give me what I came for.”
“You are ready to give her up so easily?” Al Uddin’s gaze flicked to me. “I hope you weren’t counting on him to save you, child. He is just like his ancestors. A worthless traitor.”
I don’t know how Dhav controlled himself. He answered calmly, ignoring the insult.
“The antidote, Al Uddin. Or I’m leaving, and taking her with me.”
“Very well. A promise is a promise. And I keep my word.”
He reached into his robe and took out a glass vial attached to a long chain. He pulled it over his head and handed it to Dhav. I stifled a gasp as I saw what was on his hand.
Gran’s ruby ring.
He saw me notice it, and a gloating expression crossed his face. But he didn’t say anything. He nodded at Dhav.
“There’s one dose in there. When your brother drinks it, he will be cured. Now go, and leave the djinn here.”
“What are you going to do with her?”
“I will perform the ritual and imbue her with the powers of a god.”
“But she will be a slave.”
“Of course.” Al Uddin held up his hand and the ruby glinted. “She will be tied to the totem. Like her grandmother before her. Whoever wields the totem controls the genie.”
“Here’s the thing.” Dhav put the chain around his head, the glass vial nestling against his chest. “Samira is incredibly difficult to control.”
“Oh, I think I will manage. I am quite used to dealing with wayward djinn.”
“You are one yourself, I believe?”
Al Uddin cocked his head.
“You are well-informed, Prince Dhavani. Trust me when I say it will be no problem to bring this one to heel. Like her predecessor.”
Dhav grinned savagely.
“Let me save you the bother.”
He flicked his wrist, and two blades flew from his hand, so fast I could barely see them. They thudded into Al Uddin’s chest, one after another. Dead centre of his heart.
Al Uddin staggered backwards, the twin shafts protruding from his body. His eyes bulged from his head, and he sank to his knees.
I watched him turn ashen, and felt a ridiculous rush of joy. I was immediately ashamed, but I couldn’t help it. Dhav had saved me. He’d done what he promised.
Al Uddin collapsed, his breath gurgling in his chest. He tried to grasp the blades, to pull them out, but his strength had gone. His eyes closed and he finally lay still.
Dhav looked at the body.
“I didn’t expect it to be so easy.”
“He wasn’t a powerful madman after all,” I said. “He was just a madman.”
“But where are his ghuls? Why didn’t he use his power?”
“You’re worrying too much, Dhav.” I felt light-headed with relief. “He’s dead. You killed him. It’s over.”
Dhav looked unconvinced. He glanced out of one of the windows.
“It’s getting dark. Maybe we should stay here until morning instead of trying to cross that ridge at night.”
We looked round the ruined tower with its broken statues and dead owner lying sprawled on the floor, and simultaneously came to the same conclusion. Dhav shook his head.
“On second thoughts, let’s take our chances with the ridge.”
“Absolutely. I’m not staying in this cree
py dump one second longer than I have to. Let me get my ring.”
I dropped down next to the prostrate body, trying not to look at the dead man’s face. Tentatively I took his hand. His fingers were cool and dry, and there was dirt under the fingernails. I reached for gran’s ring, and paused as his sleeve fell back.
He had a birthmark on his wrist. I looked at it curiously.
It was a snake, but different to mine. A snake eating its tail. An ouroboros.
I examined the sinuous circle curiously. I’d never seen another djinn mark before. I wondered if there were any more like him, like us, out there.
I touched it gently, trying to feel if it was slightly raised like mine.
And then his hand closed round my wrist like a vice.
Chapter Twenty Seven
I gave a shriek as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, his leering face laughing into mine. In that chaotic moment, I saw golden flecks in the black depths of his eyes. Eyes eerily similar to mine and gran’s.
Eyes the colour of magic.
I tried to yank myself from his grasp, but he was too strong. In a panic, I shoved air at him and he flew through the air backwards.
He landed on his feet as if he’d been expecting it, and grinned at me.
“An air mage? Fascinating. And you, Prince Dhavani. I compliment you on your throwing speed. Thank you both, for showing me your talents.”
Dhav and I watched in disbelief as Al Uddin grabbed first one blade then the other, and pulled them from his chest. He dropped them on the floor.
“How…?” I stuttered.
“A side effect of the curse. No matter what I do, I can’t die.” His face twisted. “And believe me, I have tried. I have spent days, months, years in this wretched tower trying to end my suffering. I have lost count of the times I’ve tried to kill myself and join my beloved Jaswinder. But the curse endures. I cannot escape it.”
“I’d be happy to try again,” Dhav said. His voice was calm but I could see the tension in his shoulders.
“No need. I have the djinn. Once I complete the ritual, she can end the curse. And then, Prince Dhavani of Ashfahaan, I will end you.” He smiled, his expression unsettlingly joyful. “Now, you’ve shown me yours. Permit me to show you mine.”
Mark of the Djinn: A Young Adult Urban Fantasy Romance Page 17