The Waters Of Eternity Part 9

"Dabir!" she cried, and the final sound of his name rose in a scream.

Dabir reached past her for the jar she'd sought, uncorked it, and hurled the thing at the demon, at the same time screaming at me to dive.

A terrific explosion followed in an instant, and a wave of heat washed over me before I hit the floor. I covered my head with my arm as the ground shook and the utensils overhead rattled against one another.

My ears ringing, I staggered to my feet, searching the chamber filled with stinking vapor. "Dabir!"

He did not answer, though I heard a groan, toward which I moved. Nowhere did I see the demon, though I did see an eyeball lying upon one of the tables, and another wet, white object stuck against the wall, and yet another charred and desiccated on the floor. I brushed it away with my sword tip as I advanced, delighted to see the eyes were no longer inclined to move of their own volition. The demon had truly departed.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I found Dabir kneeling beside Jamilah. He was covered in soot and the turban cloth on one side of his head was blackened, but he otherwise seemed fine; the beautiful woman, though, was now a scorched and dried-out corpse.

I stood looking down at him as he stared sadly down at her, and when I finally spoke, it was in a low voice. "I think the demon is dead."

"They are all of them dead, Asim." Dabir's voice was as heavy as the door to a tomb. "The victims to paradise, for G.o.d is merciful. Jamilah and her lackey...it is said by some that Iblis is ever eager for new wives."

"I am sorry, Dabir."

He looked up at me. "She was my first love, Asim. We were not suited together, but I thought...I would not have guessed this of her."

"She delved too long for the wrong secrets. What magic was that which you threw?"

"Not magic, my friend, but a rare metal purified through a special process. It can vaporize liquid, energetically. Jamilah must have prepared it, just in case. Would that she had kept it closer to hand."

Would that my friend's former love not been mad as a Frank, or would that he had been blessed with better taste in women, so that his heart were not so heavy. But I did not say this to him. "Let us depart. Evil lingers in the room's dark corners, and the stink of it sours my nose."

Yet still he clung to the dead hand. After a long moment he released her and stood. "She did not know how to master the demon. I wonder if the same fate befell Khalid?"

"The fault is theirs, for seeking what should not be known, with the blood of innocents."

"I do not fault her search, only her methods."

This seemed a blasphemous notion, yet seeing the haunted expression on his face I held my tongue.

Dabir stood looking down at her body for another few moments before speaking to her a final time. His voice was soft. "Good-bye, Jamilah."

It had become our habit to take mementos of our exploits and place them on the shelves within the receiving room, but I saw Dabir remove nothing from that place. He directed that the home and all its belongings be burned. Some weeks later Jamilah's bracelet appeared upon our shelves and remained thereafter, but Dabir never commented upon it, and he rarely mentioned Jamilah again.

Servant of Iblis.

I.

"Oh, learned one, I need your help." Mukhtar the rug merchant bowed his turbaned head. "A great calamity has befallen my family, and only one of your wisdom can aid me."

Doubtless Mukhtar had some financial difficulty. If he sought advice from Dabir in that quarter, then he sought in vain, for my friend had no head for money.

Dabir sat cross-legged on the cus.h.i.+ons in the receiving room, on my left. He did not answer immediately, and Mukhtar's eyes s.h.i.+fted up to mine.

I returned the merchant's scrutiny. His full, well-trimmed beard was curled and streaked with two distinguished lines of gray, and the salt-and-pepper hair that showed beneath his turban was perfumed and oiled. He was rather too well perfumed, in truth, for the whole of the receiving room smelled of attar-of-rose, as though a troupe of dancing girls had just made their ablutions here.

He found something in my gaze uncomfortable, and looked instead to the warren of shelves built into the south wall, each set with scrolls and curious artifacts Dabir and I had recovered in our travels.

"Speak, then," said Dabir at last.

Mukhtar gathered in a deep breath, as though he planned a long, eloquent speech. Instead, he blurted out: "An efreet hunts me!"

Some other men might have laughed, but I did not, and Dabir, rubbing the band of his emerald ring, studied the speaker solemnly. "Tell me of this efreet."

"This must," said the merchant, low voiced, "remain a secret." He glanced meaningfully at me.

"Asim may be trusted," Dabir said. "Tell us your tale."

Mukhtar bowed his head in thought, then spoke slowly. "There is, in my family, an amulet of great worth. I have it from my father, and he had it from his, and on to remote antiquity, where it was given long ago by an Egyptian prince, for my ancestor's deed of valor."

"I should like to see this amulet."

"I dared not bring it. You see, it is the amulet which the efreet covets."

I could not help wondering why a d.a.m.ned creature from the halls of Iblis should desire jewelry, and I watched Dabir. Indeed, he had been curious about the same thing.

"Is there something special about this amulet?" Dabir asked. "Something more important than its significance as a family relic?"

Mukhtar looked to his right and left, then glanced over his shoulder. There was only the curtained archway behind him. Light flowed in from the high, narrow windows, and he looked here, too, as though he expected to find some frightening visage peering down through one of the frames.

"It is said," Mukhtar declared softly, "that the amulet will bring the man who owns it prosperity, and will protect him from harm. And so it has, down through the ages. The eldest son has always prospered." He sat back on the crimson guest cus.h.i.+ons. "It is to my sorrow that I have no sons. G.o.d has granted me four wives of troublesome tongues and an indolent nephew. If my third daughter were but a man-ai-a, what a mind for figures she has!" He shook his head. "But, as I have said, the amulet must be pa.s.sed from father to son, and this the efreet knows. Because I have no son, it demands the amulet's return!"

I knew Dabir was interested, for his speech grew terse. "How, demands?"

"It left a warning writ in blood upon the wall of my dining room! It promised dire things if I did not leave the amulet upon a step in one of my courtyards."

"Might I read the warning?"

"Nay, my slaves washed it away."

"Did you write it down?" Dabir asked. His voice had risen a modic.u.m, because, I am certain, he found the man's lack of preparation irritating.

"No, I did not." The merchant frowned sadly. "G.o.d forgive me, I thought at first that my nephew played a trick, for I knew he coveted the amulet. He has often asked after it, wondering where it was kept. Then my servants began to report seeing a thing skulking in the gardens and in the halls at night." Mukhtar's eyes grew large. "A thing with a great, s.h.a.ggy head, and gaping mouth, and clawed hands and feet. The next morning a warning was found, again in blood, outside my very chambers! My wives were frightened, but still I would not give over the amulet, and then two nights ago my monkey, a clever little fellow from Hind, disappeared." Mukhtar wagged his finger at Dabir. "You may think it strange, but I liked that little fellow. He was better and more cheerful company than my wives most days, and, after my third daughter, my most prized possession. When he disappeared, I was sorely vexed. I hired guards, but when the efreet appeared last night they ran screaming from my home."

"And there was a message?" Dabir prompted.

"There was. If I did not leave the amulet on the courtyard steps at sunset tonight, my third daughter, the light of my home, should be carried off as a bride of Iblis!" He wrung his hands. "If only he would carry off my first wife..."

"It was wise of you to come," Dabir said after a moment. "I wish you had done so sooner."

"Then you will aid me?"

"I find your troubles very interesting," Dabir confessed. "You kept no record of any of the efreet's messages?"

Mukhtar shook his head. "I did not."

"Does anyone else know the amulet's hiding place?"

"No. No one."

"Asim and I will come to your home this evening, before the sun sets. You will tell no one of our coming."

"As you wish." Mukhtar looked long at me. "Does your man...does he have the stomach to fight with efreets?"

"Efreets, sorcerers, rug merchants, it matters not," I said. "Where need be, I strike."

The fellow blinked at me, but misunderstood my humor, I think.

"I will need to see the amulet," Dabir continued, "but it is crucial that no one else learn of its whereabouts. That is all that has kept the efreet from moving against you in more sinister ways."

Mukhtar stared raptly. "It shall be as you say."

"Good."

Mukhtar licked his lips and bowed his head. "Naturally I am grateful, Honored One, and you must forgive me if I sound improper-"

"I am not interested in your money," Dabir said dismissively. "Only your problem."

The rug merchant bowed his head in grat.i.tude. "Praise be to you, then, for your generosity."

II.

Mukhtar lived in a rambling old home near the river. From its balconies one could look out onto three fountained courtyards, and from one tower it was possible to look over the city wall and onto the dark s.h.i.+mmering length of the Tigris, on which boats plied their long way to Baghdad. Bright was the sinking sun and brighter still was the bronze pillar of its reflection in the water. The high bluffs across the river, rich with lines of brown and crimson rock, threw long shadows onto the quays.

Muhktar toured us through his home with pride. The household servants and his wives were curious, but Muhktar sent all away save his favored daughter.

"It pleases me to introduce you to my eldest unmarried daughter, Durrah."

Durrah wore a veil, but I saw her smile beneath it. Hers were the eyes of an houri, wide and dark, and her skin was fine and clear. She had no curves upon her though, and I might have encompa.s.sed her in one arm. She was probably fifteen years of age.

"She is fit for marrying, n.o.ble one," Mukhtar told Dabir, "but I have not dared to part with the only one of wit in the whole of my household."

"I am honored that you would introduce me," Dabir said to Mukhtar, then inclined his head toward the girl. "Your father speaks highly of your mind-he did not also say that you were fair."

Durrah blushed, but looked at my friend through her lashes in an ungirlish way as Dabir turned again to Mukhtar.

Dabir and Mukhtar resumed walking through the home, my friend asking various questions, and I followed, the girl at my side.

"Are you going to fight the efreet?" Durrah asked me.

"Probably."

"Aren't you frightened?"

"I will know when I see it."

"Other warriors saw it, and they ran."

"I do not run from my enemies," I responded, thinking that this was usually the case, if not always true. Only a madman stood against the whole of an army.

"You have not seen the efreet."

"You have?"

She nodded swiftly as we turned up a stair. "It has the head of a lion, with two great horns." Her shoulders s.h.i.+vered.

"Do not fear, girl. Dabir and I have faced nether creatures. Yet we live, and they do not."

"Can you really stop it?"

Suddenly I realized the girl's true aim, and I cursed myself for a fool. She was frightened of the message the thing had left. "Fear not, child. I shall let no servant of Iblis carry you away. This I swear."

Her cheeks reddened and she looked down, but she was silent only for a moment. "Is your master as clever as they say?"

I thought of telling her that Dabir was not my master, but in truth I tired sometimes of the constant misperception and did not always deem to correct it. I answered instead in a way I thought would have pleased Dabir: "How clever do they say he is?"

"They say that he is so wise that the caliph's hakims are jealous. They say some imams whisper that he is a sorcerer, or a djinn, for no man could be so wise."

"He is no sorcerer," I said. "Nor is he a djinn. But he is the wisest man in Mosul, or the caliphate."

"Wiser even than the caliph?"

I hesitated only a moment. "Yes."

"Wiser than you?" The girl's eyes sparkled.

I grunted. "My wisdom is here." I patted my sword arm.

"In your sleeve? Is there a monkey hidden inside?"

I chuckled. "If wit were a kingdom, you might rule it, girl."