The Seal

by J F Mehentee

  ‘Roshan,’ Zana said, making her look up and Navid turn his head.

  The king stood before them.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ he said.

  Roshan balled her hands into fists.

  ‘Why did you take their auric energy away from them?’

  The king took no offence at the anger behind her question. Rather, he looked defeated as he hitched up the hem of his tunic and sat down in front of them.

  ‘The adults’ auric energy had all but faded,’ he said. He pointed upwards. ‘What they had left, they gave willingly to help me maintain Iram.’

  ‘But the children,’ Navid interjected, ‘you didn’t have to take theirs.’

  Roshan repeated Navid’s words.

  The king pursed his lips, then opened his mouth with a loud smack.

  ‘I don’t know how Yesfir and Behrouz have stayed together for so long,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I think Behrouz loves my daughter very much, because for most daeva to be around a djinni is torture. A djinni’s auric energy draws them like a desert jackal attracted to prey. Some of them become violent. It wouldn’t be fair for a djinni child to live with one or both parents like that. And before you ask, there aren’t enough djinn left in Iram to look after them.’

  ‘Is that why you send the daeva to Baka, Grandpa?’ Zana said.

  The king smiled and nodded.

  ‘That’s right, young man.’ King Fiqitush’s smile faded. ‘It used to be that the daevas were free to go wherever they desired, but in the past two years, things have changed. Baka is an ancient and forgotten city. It’s the only place the daevas are safe.’

  Navid settled onto his back legs.

  ‘What does he mean by safe?’

  Roshan repeated her brother’s question.

  The king turned to Zana and said, ‘Please go find Yesfir and Behrouz for me. Tell them I’ll visit them as soon as I finish here.’

  Zana’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘Go on, Zana,’ Roshan said. There was something the king didn’t want the manticore to hear. It left her unnerved. ‘I’ll tell you everything when I see you.’ She glanced at the king who nodded. ‘I promise.’

  Without looking at any of them and with a scornful jut of his chin, Zana padded out of the chamber.

  The king watched the manticore leave and then thanked Roshan.

  ‘Zana is still young,’ he said, ‘and I’m not even sure I should show you what is about to happen in a city called Rai. If you must, look away. I won’t think less of you if you do.’

  The king remained seated as he weaved a destination window. Once formed, he turned and tilted it until he found what he was looking for.

  Roshan recognised the domed roof of a fire temple and its tall wind catcher. A crowd had formed at one edge of its square. The king adjusted the window with a turn, giving them a closer view. Five men and three women each knelt in front of a wooden block, their wrists shackled. They reminded Roshan of the elderly couple who’d just left for Baka.

  ‘They are daevas,’ the king said. ‘Yesterday, they received an ultimatum: accept the Divine Light and convert, or be tried for practising djinn magic and face execution.’

  Before Roshan could protest, remind him she’d been a novice and there was nothing in the Divine Light’s teachings about forcing anyone, human or djinn, to convert, the king raised a hand.

  ‘While they may live for many more decades,’ the king continued, ‘they know they will soon lose the ability to draw auric power from others and weave magic. They’d rather die than succumb to the daeva madness.’ The king gazed at Roshan with steely eyes. ‘I understand why you don’t believe me, Roshan, and I understand why you’ll find this difficult to accept, but here’s your proof that daevas are being forced to convert.’

  The king nudged the portal down and to his left. The image behind the window was of a man standing on a platform and to one side of the daevas, a short golden staff gripped in one hand.

  Navid squeaked.

  ‘That’s the high magus.’

  Roshan said nothing. She studied the high magus’s impassive gaze as the daevas placed their necks on the blocks. Soldiers, their swords so heavy they had to hold them with both hands, took up their positions.

  ‘The most effective way to end a djinni’s or a daeva’s life is decapitation,’ the king said.

  Roshan saw the high magus raise his staff.

  ‘It can’t be— This has to be a trick,’ she muttered.

  Sassan’s arm dropped, and the swords fell. The king collapsed the portal at the same time Roshan looked away.

  ‘I’d rather it was a trick than my people choosing to die because they’d given up hope,’ the king said. He raised his downcast eyes and looked from Navid to Roshan. ‘I really hope you’ll stay and help me get the seal and return the auric energy stolen from our people.’

  Roshan’s world was in disarray. Now, what she knew of her religion—the many occasions she’d heard the high magus preach and the work she’d seen herself doing after her ordination—all of it was a lie. Roshan ground her teeth. She had prayed every night since their abduction, pleaded with the Divine Light to show her a way to turn her brother back into a human and escape. No wonder her prayers went unanswered.

  The king reached into his pocket. ‘Here,’ he said, holding out a rolled papyrus. ‘In addition to the incantation for transforming Navid back into a man, I’ve included an alchemic incantation for creating precious gems from burning wood. If you choose not to help us, then use the incantations. I stole two years of your lives from you. I know it isn’t adequate compensation’—he raised his hands and looked around the room—‘but I don’t have much to compensate you with. This way, you won’t have to go back to Persepae and the high temple. You mustn’t go back.’

  Navid sniffed the papyrus.

  ‘I won’t miss being a gardener,’ he said.

  Rich or not, Roshan didn’t know what the future held. However, she wouldn’t listen to the djinni responsible for their abduction tell her what to do.

  She held up the papyrus, and said, ‘If this is what you say it is, I don’t have to do anything you tell me.’

  The king nodded.

  ‘You’ve every right to be angry with me, Roshan. Yesfir never told you who she really was, and because I told her not to, she never explained why I had her snatch the two of you from Persepae.’

  All she wanted was to summon Core power, change Navid back into a human and then leave this dying city.

  ‘I know you’re angry,’ Navid said. ‘Seeing how the high magus presided over those executions, I don’t know what to think or believe either. Hear the king out. You might not care why he had us abducted, but I do.’

  He was right. She wanted to know as much as her brother—she hadn’t stopped pestering Yesfir about it throughout their first year away from home.

  ‘Go on, then,’ she said to the king, ‘tell us why you did it.’

  8

  Roshan had never cut hair before, much less her brother’s. Meanwhile, Navid sat on a stool, a sheet wrapped around his waist, and made a mess of scraping off his straggly beard. After he’d finished hacking at his face, Roshan planned on using an incantation to seal the tiny cuts on his chin and his cheeks.

  After two years, and thanks to the king’s incantation, her brother sat before her, his face and head in need of a trim. Roshan couldn’t understand how she could feel happy and lost at the same time.

  ‘Do you believe what King Fiqitush said?’ she asked.

  Navid lowered the bronze blade and stared at his reflection in a bowl of water. His cheekbones and his cleft chin appeared sharper than either of them remembered. Unlike Roshan, his eyelids tapered, and his cheeks dimpled when he smiled.

  ‘About him having us abducted to protect us?’ Navid said.

  Roshan brushed the loose hair from Navid’s neck, then sat down in front of him.

  ‘Yes.’

  Navid dipped cupped hands into the bowl and washed h
is face. Roshan handed him a towel.

  ‘What he said made sense.’ Navid dried his face. ‘Neither of us would have left Persepae willingly. Witnessing those executions, I’m glad no one discovered our djinn heritage.’

  Roshan’s ability to draw Core power in greater quantities and hold it for longer without the extensive scarring the magi suffered would, eventually, have drawn attention to her.

  ‘And the only way to prove you and I are part-djinn was for Yesfir to teach me djinn magic,’ Roshan said. She rose into a crouch. ‘You’ve nicks all over your face. Let me heal them.’

  Navid took her hand in his and kissed it.

  ‘Thank you for taking care of me.’

  Roshan’s throat tightened, and she coughed to clear it.

  Navid let go of her hand and said, ‘So, what are we going to do?’

  Roshan sat back down.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Are we going to stay and help, or are we going to transform piles of charcoal into precious gems?’

  Roshan thought of Ehsan and his family. A few hours must have passed since they’d departed for Baka. Thanks to the high magus, the boy would never get to weave magic, and he’d live in constant fear of the empire discovering Baka’s location.

  ‘King Fiqitush is right—we can’t go back to Persepae. I thought becoming a magus was about helping others, not forcing them to choose between conversion or execution.’

  Navid sat up. It reminded Roshan of how, as a rat, he’d settle onto his back legs and straighten his back.

  ‘You know I couldn’t abide memorising all those prayer verses and the incantations—and everything in a language I didn’t understand.’

  Roshan nodded, recalling how frustrated they’d made him.

  ‘Well, what I still remember—even understand—is the simplicity and power of the religion’s tenet: think, speak and act well. What’s happening to the daevas is down to the high magus and not because of the Divine Light’s religion.’

  ‘What are you saying, Navid? That I should return to Persepae and become a magus?’

  Navid bent forward to rub hair from his head. His normally dark hair had turned several shades lighter, reminding Roshan of his fur.

  Navid looked up and said, ‘I’m not. I’m just saying you shouldn’t renounce the religion on account of one man, because that’s all the high magus is.’

  He made sense. Since when had her brother become so wise? The gap between her shoulders tensed.

  ‘If I stayed and helped the djinn and daevas,’ she said, ‘would you stay?’

  Navid frowned as he brushed his shoulders and then his chest.

  He’s grooming, Roshan thought. As a rat, a pensive Navid cleaned himself.

  ‘I won’t go back to being a gardener,’ he said. He stopped wiping himself and rested his forearms on his thighs. He examined the back of hands and then his palms. ‘I’ve missed being human and the same size as everyone else. And it’s no fun sitting in a satchel surrounded by droppings.’

  He smiled mischievously, his front central incisors longer than Roshan remembered.

  ‘Slinking into places we shouldn’t be in and helping ourselves to the odd papyrus or tablet was fun,’ Navid continued. He canted his head from left to right. ’I’d like to stay and help. We should stick together, look out for each other—it’s what we’ve always done. Going into the gems business can wait.’

  Roshan sat up and nodded. If she and her brother could help King Fiqitush retrieve the seal, then perhaps Ehsan’s auric energy might be restored to him. As she saw it, helping the djinn and daevas, preventing further executions, was the right thing to do.

  There was a knock at the door, and Navid told them to come in. The djinni Shephatiah entered carrying a bundle of clothes.

  ‘I think these will fit you,’ the djinni said.

  Navid thanked him and then looked up at Roshan.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  She hesitated. The shaving cuts dotting her brother’s face had disappeared. Roshan didn’t remember reciting the incantation to heal them.

  ‘Roshan?’ Navid said.

  She shook her head and the observation away.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, and then pointed at the djinni. ‘Shephatiah will help me find the king. I’ll tell him we’ve reached a decision.’

  The djinni gestured at the door.

  ‘The king is still in the audience chamber. If you can’t remember, I’ll show you the way.’

  She glanced over at Navid. He stood, clasping the sheet to his waist, and then sat down, his face pale.

  ‘I’m still a little dizzy and unused to standing on two legs,’ he said, then pointed at the door with his chin. ’You go. I’ll get dressed and practise walking.’

  Roshan saw Behrouz, Yesfir and Zana sitting in front of the dais, King Fiqitush perched on the bottom step. The king saw her enter the chamber and stood. Behrouz and Yesfir swiftly followed.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Roshan said. ‘I didn’t mean to interrupt.’

  ‘Not at all,’ the king said. ‘Come in and join us.’

  When Roshan was halfway to the dais, Yesfir met her. The djinni held her by the shoulders and at arm’s length, her eyes scanning her.

  ‘How are you? We were worried about you.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘Navid told me what happened. He’s human again. There wasn’t any blue smoke and I didn’t faint.’

  Yesfir raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Navid’s a human?’ Zana said. He bounded over to them, an expectant glint in his eyes. ‘Can I see him?’

  The manticore pouted when Roshan told him her brother felt dizzy and it was best, for now, that he be left alone.

  ‘Don’t worry, Zana,’ she said, and gave the manticore’s ribs a consoling pat. ‘He’ll tell you what it was like when he’s better.’

  Behrouz waved her over and indicated for her to sit between him and Yesfir.

  ‘We were just talking about a city called Derbicca,’ the king said. ‘Yesfir’s going there to bring back my brother, Prince Emad, who is a daeva.’ King Fiqitush frowned. ‘Our cousin, Aeshma, has the daeva madness. Thanks to Emad, Aeshma’s calmer now, but my brother isn’t convinced he’ll cope with leaving Derbicca.’ He gestured at his daughter with an open hand. ‘Yesfir will try to relieve Aeshma of his fears.’

  King Fiqitush’s brother was a daeva. Roshan assumed the same had happened to Yesfir’s mother, the queen. She glanced at the yellow flames surrounding Yesfir’s eyes.

  ‘I’d like to go with you,’ she said. ‘I can raise portals there and back. You need to conserve your auric energy.’

  Fiqitush leaned forward, a smile pulling the corners of his lips and crinkling his eyes.

  She nodded before he could ask.

  ‘Navid and I want to stay and help.’

  Yesfir and Behrouz both hugged her, Behrouz squeezing the air from her lungs.

  King Fiqitush stood and said, ’Give me a moment, please,’ then left the chamber, his steps jaunty.

  ‘I’ll come with you to Derbicca,’ Zana said, his front paws rising and falling as if he were standing on hot sand. ‘I’ll protect you both.’

  Behrouz gathered Zana into a hug.

  ‘Aeshma’s probably forgotten what a manticore looks like,’ he said. ‘You’ll scare him, and that’ll make it difficult for Mother to help him.’ Behrouz rubbed the top of Zana’s head. The manticore struggled to escape Behrouz’s tight grip. ‘Be patient, son. There’ll be plenty of other missions.’

  Zana wriggled out of Behrouz’s hug and then screwed his face up.

  ‘You always say that, but you never let me protect the pride.’

  Yesfir shot Zana a shrivelling look.

  ‘We’ve talked about this before,’ she scolded. ‘I won’t have us arguing in front of Grandpa. Your father’s right. You’re almost a man, but if you behave like a child, you won’t be going on any missions. Have I made myself clear?’

  With a supreme effort
to stop tears rolling from his wet eyes, Zana settled onto his haunches and nodded at no one.

  Over the past three months, Roshan had witnessed several such scoldings. They were the reason Zana spent most of his time with Navid and her. Her brother had told Zana he’d felt the same way when he was his age. Back then, he didn’t want to be around adults.

  Yesfir glared at Behrouz when he raised an arm to comfort Zana.

  ‘Thank you for waiting,’ the king said, entering the chamber. He carried a square mahogany box tucked under one arm.

  Seated opposite Roshan, the box between them, King Fiqitush opened it. Inside were two unadorned silver cuff bracelets, each as wide as Roshan’s little finger.

  ‘I’ll leave one in the box for Navid,’ the king said, lifting a bracelet out. ‘Hold out your left hand, please.’

  The bracelet looked identical to the bracelets Behrouz and Yesfir wore. Roshan’s throat tightened as she held out her hand.

  King Fiqitush slotted the gap in the band widthways across her wrist, then twisted the bracelet face up.

  ‘You and your brother are family now,’ he said.

  9

  Disguised as a shadow, Armaiti the sabaoth watched the king of the djinn place the silver bracelet around Roshan’s wrist. She’d hoped the papyrus and the limitless wealth it promised might have tempted Navid to leave Iram, his sister close behind.

  Such an outcome had been too much to wish for. Now, with Roshan helping the djinn and daevas, the change started by the wound she’d received in the chancery would accelerate.

  Armaiti could no longer just observe. If Roshan fully transformed, she might live beyond millennia.

  Back on the snowy mountain range, grey clouds scudding across the three mountain peaks, Armaiti addressed a space beyond the sky and the vacuum this world revolved in.

  ‘I know what’s happening to the girl is my fault,’ she said to the Unmade Creator. ‘If I’d not touched her and she’d lived, then she’d have remained a human-djinn hybrid. I don’t fully understand the effect my auric energy is having on her. If you understand, if it troubles you, show me what to do, and you have my word I will do it.’