The Sabaoth's Arrow Read online

  The Sabaoth's Arrow

  Book 2 of the Baka Djinn Chronicles

  J F Mehentee

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  A note from the author

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  1

  Roshan had already folded her arms when she noticed her foot tapping.

  ‘We have to hurry,’ she called to the daeva in the other room. ‘Guardsmen have entered the city. We have to leave—now.’

  ‘Daniyel, get out from under there,’ the woman said. ‘This isn’t a game.’

  Roshan stalked across the small living area towards the bedroom. A fire burned in the hearth; the woman had been kneading a ball of dough when Roshan had arrived.

  Inside the bedroom, the woman lay face down on the floor and was reaching under a bed. Roshan heard giggling.

  ‘Got you,’ the woman said. She pulled.

  A child, only two years old, appeared from under the edge of the bed. The woman stood and hauled her son into her arms.

  ‘Here,’ the woman said, and thrust the child at Roshan. ‘Hold him while I pack some things.’

  Roshan took the child before his mother could drop him. Daniyel, the front of his tunic covered in dust from under the bed, eyed Roshan with suspicion.

  ‘I told, you,’ Roshan said, impatience sharpening the edge to her voice, ‘there are guardsmen in Arshak.’

  The woman had found a bag and now searched for items to pack.

  ‘We don’t have time for this,’ Roshan said.

  Daniyel wriggled in Roshan’s arms.

  ‘I’m going, and I’m taking your child with me.’

  Roshan headed for the door. She stomped, hoping the woman had gotten the message. Daniyel waved his hands and shook his head. She’d made it a third of the way across the living area when the woman spoke.

  ‘Shouldn’t we wait for my husband?’

  Roshan tightened her hold on Daniyel. He’d started to slip through her arms.

  ‘Your husband sent me. He’s with my brother and the other daevas. I’m the only one who can raise a portal. The others are waiting—we have to go.’

  Daniyel’s lower lip trembled, and a tear collected in the corner of an eye. To Roshan’s relief, the woman took the boy from her.

  Roshan led the way, the woman close behind.

  The daevas of Arshak lived in the south-eastern quarter of the city. There was no paving but sand, and some buildings were made from salvaged wood rather than stone. Roshan doubted Arshak’s administrators visited this part of the city often. The daevas avoided the streets and moved around by using the dark, tight alleyways between the ramshackle constructions.

  ‘Where are we going?’ the woman said.

  The high magus and his army weren’t due to reach Arshak until tomorrow morning. Roshan and Navid were supposed to be here to inform the daevas about Sassan’s imminent arrival, not evacuate them to Baka. With news that dispatches from the high magus and his general were now being destroyed instead of being archived in Persepae, anticipating the empire’s next move had become a challenge.

  ‘We’re going to the disused stable,’ Roshan said. She turned and saw that the woman had stopped. Daniyel clung to his mother’s neck, a dent between his downy eyebrows.

  ‘There’s a quicker way,’ the woman said.

  Roshan followed. If she had a better idea of the stable’s location, the quicker and easier solution would be to raise a portal. There hadn’t been time for her and Navid to conduct a survey of this neighbourhood, let alone the city.

  As they ran, Daniyel’s head bobbed, though his eyes never left Roshan. Worried he might cry and draw attention to them, Roshan pulled a face.

  Dimples appeared in Daniyel’s cheeks. He rested his chin on his mother’s shoulder and continued staring at Roshan.

  Daniyel beamed with delight when Roshan nearly collided with his mother. Roshan took her lead and backed into the alleyway.

  ‘Soldiers,’ the woman whispered.

  Daniyel crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue.

  Four guardsmen, armed with spears, patrolled the street they had to cross.

  If only I knew where the stable was.

  ‘Is there some way we can go around them?’ Roshan said.

  The woman thought for a moment.

  ‘Play,’ Daniyel said.

  Roshan pulled a face.

  Daniyel didn’t look impressed.

  The woman shook her head.

  ‘We’d have to go back the way we came.’

  At this rate, they’d end up running in circles and leave Navid stranded with the other daevas. There had to be another way.

  ‘Play,’ Daniyel demanded.

  ‘Shush, dear,’ the woman said.

  Roshan slapped her forehead.

  Daniyel mimicked her.

  ‘I’m sorry, I should have asked this earlier,’ she said. ‘Can you give me the coordinates for the stable?’

  The woman’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘You said before that you could raise a portal. But you’re not djinn.’

  She didn’t have time to explain.

  ‘Please, the coordinates, and I’ll show you.’

  The woman squinted as she translated the stable’s location into portal coordinates. Roshan wove a destination window and then peered through it. The stable, one of its double doors missing and part of its roof fallen in, sat on the opposite side of a street. She saw a face peering out of the shadows next to it.

  ‘What’s Navid doing over there? He should be in the stable.’

  A guardsman walked past the destination window, making both Roshan and the mother jump. Daniyel nodded and giggled.

  ‘Again,’ he said.

  Roshan adjusted the window’s coordinates with a quick incantation. The image shifted from the stable to some thirty steps behind the alleyway Navid hid in. The alleyway was so narrow, the light from above only partially lit the ground. Roshan could just make out the alleyway’s dead end. She adjusted the incantation to reverse the window’s direction. Daevas filled two-thirds of the cramped alleyway. Another adjustment and the window looked on to the alleyway’s opening and Navid. Roshan raised a boarding window and fused it to the destination window.

  ‘Hah,’ Daniyel said, his forefinger tracing the azure circle of Roshan’s portal.

  ‘You first,’ Roshan said, smiling at the woman’s surprise.

  The lines on her brother’s face softened when he saw her emerge from her portal.

  ‘What took you so long?’ he said, more intrigued than annoyed.

  She nodded at Daniyel.

  ‘Someone wanted to play at hiding.’

  Daniyel beamed, then clapped his hands.

  ‘I like hiding,’ he said.

  Roshan and Navid put their fingers to their lips. Daniyel did the same, then bounced up and down in his mother’s arms.

  Navid jabbed his thumb at the alleyway’s entrance.

  �
��We can’t enter the stable without being seen,’ he said. ‘One of us wandering inside there might not draw any attention.’ He glanced behind him. ‘But there are over fifty daevas back there.’

  Roshan wracked her brain for somewhere else in the city they might go. Life as a novice and two years spent with Yesfir had honed her memory, and she only had to repeat a piece of information once to remember it. But she couldn’t recollect anywhere else on the crude map Shephatiah had sketched for them where they wouldn’t be seen.

  ‘There’s some space at the end of this alleyway,’ Roshan said. ‘It’s dark, and so long as we take our time and don’t do anything to draw attention to ourselves, we could enter Baka from there.’

  Lines reappeared on Navid’s face.

  ‘Another alley opens on to this one.’ He pointed behind him. ‘Halfway down. That’s how we ended up in here. We’ll need someone to keep an eye on both entrances.’

  Roshan glanced behind her.

  ‘You stay here. I’ll raise a portal and then cover the other one.’

  A corner of Navid’s mouth crimped. He nodded.

  ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Right now, it’s the best we can do.’

  Daniyel and his mother had already disappeared into the crush of daevas. The woman had to be searching for her husband. As Roshan squeezed her way through, she saw how the daevas preferred to huddle close together instead of moving farther down into the alleyway.

  Roshan passed the woman, who’d found her husband. Daniyel, squashed between his parents, grinned and then stuck out his tongue.

  She reached the far end of the alleyway. With little room to manoeuvre and having to shoulder her way through so many, Roshan found herself breathless and sweating. She wasted no time in raising a portal to Baka. The azure of her portal caught the attention of those in front of her.

  ‘This way,’ she said, keeping her voice low.

  In the portal’s light, she saw heads farther down from her turn in her direction. A murmur filled the alleyway. Roshan hoped the sound didn’t carry to either of its entrances.

  She pressed her back to the wall and sidled past the daevas who approached the portal. They moved at a steady rate, but not as fast as they could have if the alleyway were wider.

  Roshan heard crying coming from the alleyway’s centre. She’d spotted other children on her way to the far end of the alleyway. It might not be Daniyel.

  The crying turned into a wail.

  Shut the child up.

  She felt her bracelet pulse and knew Navid was thinking the same thing. Roshan shook her head. She should have erected a dome of invisibility and silence around them before raising the portal. Now it was too late. She began the incantation for a dome of protection.

  ‘Soldiers,’ someone yelled from the front.

  ‘We’ll hold them off,’ another shouted. ‘The rest of you at the back, get a move on.’

  An elbow dug into Roshan’s side, and a passing shoulder shoved her hard against the wall, driving the air from her lungs and leaving her with no breath for the rest of the incantation. In the corner of her vision she saw those daevas at the back of the alleyway rushing through the portal. The press from the front, however, caused some daevas to lose their balance. Roshan’s feet scuffed against the ground, and her back scraped against the wall. Her nails clawed at the brickwork as the crush of daevas dragged her closer to the portal.

  Opposite her, the abandoned stable’s wooden wall gave a loud creak. Roshan saw it warp against the weight of the daevas. The wall screeched before the wood split and collapsed inwards. Daevas disappeared into the hole.

  Roshan dropped to the ground and landed awkwardly on her ankle. Thankfully, no one pressed against her ribcage, and she could breathe again.

  Roshan’s ankle buckled under her own weight, and she dropped to the ground. Someone’s shin struck her cheek, the force of the impact smashing the back of her head against the wall. Golden light exploded behind her eyes. She tasted blood. Roshan held a protective hand in front of her face and tried to push herself back up with the other. All around her, daevas stumbled, held on to each other and tried to regain their balance.

  A foot kicked her hand from under her, and she landed on her side. A hand, not her own, pressed down on her exposed side as the daeva above her tried to right herself.

  Roshan felt her side give and knew one or more ribs had cracked. She screwed her eyes shut. Fearful of being crushed, she cried, ‘Stop!’

  Feet scuffed the ground. Thuds filled the alleyway and air escaped mouths in hisses. Snaps and tears swiftly followed.

  Roshan didn’t have to open her eyes to realise she’d made a terrible mistake.

  2

  Emad’s mood hadn’t lifted as he returned to the deep sweep of tents ahead of him. Baka was sand-filled, dilapidated, uninhabitable and defenceless. Right now, the daevas’ new home comprised nothing more than a camp.

  What were you thinking, Fiqitush? What have you seen that I and everyone else is blind to? What’s so special about this ruin you’re insisting the daevas make their home?

  Two days had passed since his rescue in Derbicca. Yesterday, he’d offered to visit Baka as an excuse to get away from his brother. Emad loved him dearly, but Fiqitush was almost as zealous about Baka as the high magus was about the One Religion.

  Emad strolled past the first line of tents and spied a group of daevas leading others from a portal. He’d seen several of these groups at work during the past two hours. Their job was to receive those daevas whose city lay in the path of the high magus and his army. Each member of the semicircle would show a displaced daeva their tent, list the rules and mealtimes and recite Fiqitush’s unrealistic promise: Baka would soon be free of segregation—thanks to daeva madness being cured—and become home to daevas and djinn alike.

  Something different about this group, however, caught his attention. Four daevas leaned forward as they watched whatever was going on behind the destination window the djinni, who kept his distance, had woven for them. A daeva placed an arm across the shoulders of his neighbour, who shook his head.

  Emad hurried over to them.

  The djinni’s destination window hovered over a network of alleyways that opened on to a street. In one particular alleyway—a daeva pointed at it for Emad—lay what he took for bodies. They lay both inside the alleyway and just beyond what looked like a hole in the side of a building. Emad saw a handful of soldiers enter the building. He took a step closer when one of the bodies in the alleyway moved.

  ‘Deepen your window’s focus, please,’ he said to the djinni. Emad leaned in for a closer look. ‘Are those daevas I’m looking at?’ he said, to no one in particular.

  The djinni nodded.

  Emad couldn’t believe what he saw.

  ‘Those are daevas down there.’ He pointed at the destination window. ‘And they’re moving. Why aren’t you helping them?’

  He looked around at the other daevas and recognised fear.

  What have we become?

  Emad straightened and glared at the djinni.

  ‘I want a scimitar and I want you to raise a portal to the inside of that building now.’ The djinni hesitated. ‘You know who I am.’ He gazed at the other daevas. ‘I’ll hold off the guardsmen. I want you to get as many of those daevas out of there as you can.’ One of the daevas took a backwards step. ‘Those are our brothers and sisters. They need our help.’

  ‘There’s another djinni in the camp, Your Highness,’ the djinni said. ‘She and I will help you.’

  Emad nodded.

  ‘Good man,’ he said.

  Armed with the scimitar the djinni had woven for him, Emad stepped through the portal.

  Three soldiers pulled the struggling daevas through the hole in the wall. Two more forced them to line up at spearpoint. Iron in the spearheads sucked at Emad’s energy. It reminded him of being manacled in Derbicca. The memory inflamed him. Back then, he’d missed the opportunity to kill the high magus, which was why the per
secution of daevas like these continued.

  Emad waited a few moments for two other daevas to emerge from the portal, both carrying scimitars.

  He charged in the same moment the two soldiers holding the daevas at bay spotted him. He waved his scimitar and then shouldered into the first soldier.

  Emad landed on top of him, but not before they’d collided with his comrade. With the first soldier wriggling beneath him, Emad rammed the tip of his scimitar into the thigh of the fallen soldier in front of him. The soldier cried out, his hands no longer gripping his spear but his upper thigh. Before the soldier beneath him could push him off, Emad rose and thumped him with his scimitar’s pommel. He only dazed the soldier and had to hit him a second time.

  Emad looked around. One of the daevas who’d arrived from Baka sat on the ground, a small pool of blood soaking into the earth and straw around him. A female djinni gestured with her hands as the three other guardsmen clutched their necks, their faces red and their eyes bulging.

  Emad got to his feet, ran past the suffocating soldiers, acknowledged the djinni and then entered the hole in the wall.

  Daevas, some standing and others struggling to, filled the dark, narrow alleyway. Across from him he recognised a young woman, more a girl, really. She had accompanied Yesfir to Derbicca and had led Administrator Arman to his doorstep. Emad had trouble believing Fiqitush when his brother had told him how this same girl had saved Behrouz’s life by channelling her auric energy into him and, though temporarily, turning him and Yesfir back into djinn.

  What’s she doing here?

  The girl stood. Grazes covered one side of her face, and a sleeve had been torn from her tunic’s shoulder. Perhaps because of the poor light, her face looked as if it had turned a dark turquoise colour.