The Bones of the Old Ones (Dabir and Asim) (26 page)

“Truly?” Dabir asked bitterly. “I thought you were the most gifted sorceress of your age.”

“I did not say that.”

“You certainly implied it. And it may even be true. You said on the carpet ride here that they did not have the skills to work with these spirits. It seems to me that you might simply have refused to cooperate.”

“When offered such power, you think I would say no? Would you?”

“Yes.”

She laughed. “How noble. But then you have fame, wealth, comfort … you have everything you want.”

“No,” Dabir said quietly, “I do not.”

“Do you mean power? I can find no way into a court ruled by that idiot Irene and her bearded fools. They will not heed me—”

“I do not mean power,” Dabir cut in, “and we have veered from the subject.”

Lydia was not inclined to return to it. “Tell me, Dabir. What do you intend for me? Jaffar banished me from these lands on pain of death.” She pointed a thumb at me without looking my direction. “You could have this killer lop my head from my shoulders at any time.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Dabir said.

“Really? Why should I trust you?”

“We need each other,” he told her slowly. Dabir shifted on the chest and spoke formally, and it was only as he went on that I realized he was fighting hard to restrain his anger. “I have no desire to see you executed or imprisoned. I have immense respect for your abilities, and your intellect. But I
do
hold you accountable for your part in all that has transpired, and wonder what you shall say when there comes a final judgment.”

“Your opinion is irrelevant to me,” she said stiffly.

Dabir took a deep breath and held it a moment before replying. “These resources of yours. What are they?”

Lydia weighed him with her eyes, then sounded weary as she answered. “I work with the spirits of the dead, Dabir. Do not ask which ones, or how. But I can set them to watch, and know what they see.”

“Are those the things you keep in the pouch at your waist?” I interrupted.

“No. Those are more special. And you don’t really want to know what those are.”

While some curiosity lingered, I concluded that she was right.

“I knew that the Sebitti were closing upon us at nearly the same time Asim sensed them with the club. One of my spirits was following them.”

“Is it still?” Dabir asked.

She shook her head. “We have journeyed too far, and my control has lapsed. If you ever finish interrogating me, I’ll summon a few to watch outside Mosul. Certain spirits are highly sensitive to otherworldly energies, so I’ll call ones that should be able to detect the approach of the chionzoe. Now I have a question for you, Dabir. You say that you need me. Why? What is your plan?”

Dabir’s eyes fell to me. “It will depend in part on whether Asim can get the spear working in the same way.”

“I can do that,” I reassured him.

“And,” Dabir continued, “that we can find the other weapon and get it working as well. Can you fashion a banishing circle, Lydia?”

“Of course. The symbols are not fundamentally different from those of a summoning circle. But designing one may be a little more challenging,” she added, “without my notes.”

“I have Jibril’s notes,” Dabir offered.

“That may or may not be helpful. But, again, if you’re planning on Usarshra standing obediently while we banish her, let alone cooperating to enter—”

Dabir interrupted her. “I’m planning on luring her in, and trapping her.”

“Luring her in?” Lydia asked. “With what?”

“The bones.” Dabir’s gaze was intent. “She came for them once. She’ll come for them again. Sooner than we want, probably.”

“And she’ll come with a whole army of spirits,” Lydia decried.

“Then we’ll need a very large circle.”

“Powered by what?” Lydia’s expression cleared. “The bones. Of course! But … then they are likely to become completely drained.”

“Good,” Dabir said fiercely.

She blinked at him. “I was going to suggest that we each take one when we are done.”

“They must be destroyed,” Dabir said in a tone that brooked no argument, “along with the spirits.”

“Destroyed?” She leaned forward. “Then all of this will have been for nothing!”

Dabir actually snarled. I do not believe I had ever seen him so angry. “We shall be lucky, Lydia, to survive at all, or to save our people. That is what we ‘get’ from this. Now. Are you going to help me make this circle?”

Lydia blinked in surprise, for while she did not know him even half as well as I, she surely knew Dabir’s measure and understood that this was completely out of character. “Are you sure it will even be powerful enough to stop Usarshra?”

“I can’t be sure of anything,” Dabir admitted. “All we can do is try.”

“Why did you call her ‘Usarshra’?” I asked.

“That is what the spirit calls itself; I know not why.” Lydia shrugged, then addressed Dabir. “It’s just gotten stronger since it left the Sebitti. And I think it will continue to do so.”

“That’s why we’re going to try to find the third bone, tonight. If the circle’s going to work, it has to be more powerful than she is.”

Lydia nodded. “I suppose so.”

He studied her quietly for a long moment. “I’ll give you a better offer than the one you gave us, Lydia. If you do not want to work with us, I will give you one of our horses, and you will be free to go.”

“You will fail without me.”

“Surely we will have a better chance if you aid us,” Dabir agreed.

“If I help you,” she said slowly, “if I give up my claim on any of the bones, what will I receive?”

Dabir but stared at her.

I could not stay silent. “After all you’ve done, you want a reward?”

“You are not the only ones to lose friends and allies,” she said.

“This is all your fault!”

Dabir interrupted before I could say more. “Peace, Asim. Lydia, I have moneys at my disposal, though I do not think this is what you want. I think I have enough influence to have you pardoned by Jaffar, for the caliphate will surely owe you its thanks, if this turns out well. A post might be obtained for you, though … you are a Greek—”

“And a woman,” she finished caustically. “So best suited for knitting and rearing children, right?”

“By God,” I interjected, “if you had stayed home making children, we would not be in the midst of this.”

Dabir spoke quickly. “Asim, you are not helping. Lydia, treasures I can certainly promise you. I think a pardon likely, and I will do what I can to see that you receive a post. Mosul is ruled by a just man, and I do not think he would object to counsel from a woman, though I cannot guarantee anything.”

She studied him. “It is not so different here than in Constantinople.”

Dabir could only offer empty hands.

“There’s no better option at present,” she said. “I shall work with you.”

“Good,” Dabir said grimly. I think he meant to speak on, but Lydia did not give him time.

“Your plan has merit, but it will require some modification. Normally a person must stand outside a circle, with all the power sources, to activate it. And you certainly don’t want to be inside one when you banish something.”

That made sense even to me.

Lydia spoke on. “Usarshra may come for the bones, but we really can’t expect her to pass over the boundary lines unless the bones are within the ring, and if they’re inside, we can’t very well use them to power the circle, because we’d be trapped inside the banishing sphere with the spirits.”

“You sound as though you have a solution,” Dabir said.

“I think I might be able to fashion a safe space in the circle,” she said. “Like a hole through a pearl that you string on a necklace. It would be a protective circle inside the banishing circle. For us.”

“Can that work?”

The Greek woman shrugged. “I’ve never heard of it being done before, but if I can’t do it, nobody can. I will have to plan it out very carefully. If you’re wanting to fit in all the spirits we saw this evening, it must be very large. Larger than the hippodrome.”

Dabir nodded, looking almost relieved. “We’ll draw it out in the countryside. Better not to bring the spirits close to here.” He looked to us both. “Well, it is already late, and we have much to do. We’d best get your sentries in place, then see about this circle. Asim, can you master the spear’s magic?”

I was bone-weary, and sore to boot, but I nodded my assent. “Aye.”

“Keep in mind,” Lydia said, not quite facing me, “that the moment you activate the spear it is like lighting a bonfire. You should release it the instant you confirm it’s working.”

This sounded like good advice, though from an unwelcome source. “I will do that,” I agreed.

They headed off, then, taking the bones with them, for I wished to wash and change clothes. Also I prayed, answering the muezzin’s call alone, and I apologized to God both for neglecting my prayers and for allowing black magic to be done in the household, for I was sure Lydia’s sentries were no angels.

When I had finished cleaning up I took the spear, studied it, and no matter my fatigue, stepped outside to practice its pattern in the snow of the courtyard, now lit with the flame of dawn.

I rediscovered aches, though I think the exercises aided in stretching my tired muscles. Despite feeling weary and dull, learning the spear’s pattern took a third the time it did for me to master the club, for I better knew how to read the pattern. After only a few tries I stood with the glowing spear in my hands. I did as Lydia recommended, and released the thing into the snow.

Once it dimmed, I took it inside and reported my success to Dabir. He wished immediately to learn the weapon form himself.

“But if I show it to you,” I objected, “won’t you activate it again?” I thought one “flash from the hilltop” bad enough.

“I can practice everything but the final move. Which you can show me out of order.”

This was altogether reasonable.

Having had no training with spear fighting, Dabir took far longer to master the form. He thought the moves out rather than felt them, which true mastery would require. Still, in a half hour it seemed to me that he had everything, so he thanked me, wiped sweat from his brow, and returned to the receiving room.

He and Lydia had created a scholar’s nest there, meaning that there were two cushioned areas and everywhere else were books, scrolls, papers, and writing implements. There were few places even to set one’s feet.

Lydia was scribbling furiously on some thick rolls of paper.

Dabir walked carefully back to settle down near her, and put a finger to Jibril’s book. I leaned the spear in the corner.

“How long is this going to take?” I asked.

Lydia paused to scowl up at me.

“It might take a little while,” Dabir said. “You should try to grab some rest. You look awful.”

“No worse than you,” I pointed out.

“No, you look worse,” Lydia said without looking up.

At this I grunted.

“I will be fine,” Dabir assured me.

Now I trusted Lydia but little. I felt certain she would turn on us given a better opportunity. Yet I did not think one was ready to present itself immediately, so I retreated to my rooms. I thoroughly cleaned off my sword and then took a whetstone to its edge for some time—for only a fool is too tired to care for his weapons—then cleaned out the scabbard. Finally I bowed to the wisdom of resting for just a short while; there would be many more trials before us yet, and I’d be more useful in facing them with a little sleep. When I flopped down on my mattress and draped a blanket over myself, I did not remove my boots. I tossed my armor over my father’s arms chest so donning it might be faster. I knew I should have cleaned the armor, too, and contemplated repairing its links, but that would have kept me up through the day.

Sleep fell swift and passed bereft of dreams. I cannot say what woke me, but of a sudden I came awake in the pitch-black of night and knew in a flash of dread I’d let the entire day pass unmarked. As I came to, all that we’d experienced fell suddenly upon me. Tarif’s murder. Najya’s disappearance. The flight of my men. Jibril’s death. The fight with the wolf, and the sorceress in the house.

I sat up instantly and regretted it. Stiff muscles protested throughout my body, most especially in my chest and arm. I had expected no less, but just because you know a visitor will be an irritant it does not lessen the annoyance when he arrives.

I put feet to the floor, stifled a groan, stretched, then buckled on my sword belt, lit a candle, and set forth. I put aside a growing awareness of my hunger until I was sure about Dabir’s safety.

Dabir was still in the receiving room, but he was snoring softly upon a cushion near the display shelf, head resting on his arm. I stopped with the curtain only partly open until I saw Lydia creeping up behind him.

Instantly I stepped into the room, hand to hilt. My movement betrayed me and she looked up. It was then I saw that she held a blanket in her hands. She froze for a time, then pulled her eyes from mine and draped the cloth over Dabir’s shoulders, tucking it with care about him.

I walked further inside, treading lightly over manuscripts scattered like soldiers on a battlefield. Most of the candles had dimmed, and the brazier was cold and dark.

Lydia’s tone was softly mocking. “Did you think I planned to smother him?”

“No.”

I had instead thought she meant to stab him, but I did not say this. I moved closer and peered down at my friend, snoring peacefully. “Are your ghosts in place?”

“Ghosts?”

“Your sentries.”

“Yes,” she said with an amused smile. “My ghosts. They keep watch.”

“Have you finished your studies?”

“I think so. It requires a little guesswork, but … it really is our best hope. I like what you have done with your hair, incidentally.”

I had not bothered yet with a turban, nor had I brushed, and I was certain from her smile that I must look ridiculous. At my frown, she smiled the wider.

“The Sebitti or the frost spirits might be here at any moment. We must be moving.”

“He needs some rest. The sentries will alert us, and the carpet can be ready on the instant.”