The Bonehill Curse by Jon Mayhew

finger to stop her biting into it again. Instead he took the remaining bread from her and dipped it into a nearby cooking pot. Ness took the bread, now coated in sweet-smelling gravy, and continued to devour it. It tasted divine. Is it meat or fruit I can taste? It’s definitely something sweet and yet . . .
    Jabalah grinned. ‘It’s good?’
    ‘Delicious.’ Ness smiled back and nodded. Then, recalling the previous night, she turned to Azuli. ‘So why were you following me?’ she snapped, her voice thick with bread and gravy. ‘And why did you break into my dormitory and attack me in the middle of the night?’
    Azuli’s face became stern. ‘Hafid will tell you what you need to know.’
    They pushed on in silence. The crowd flowed past them, smiling and nodding. And then it struck her. So many old people , Ness thought. She glanced around. The crowd had grey hair and careworn faces. Their backs were bent under some heavy burden, something more than the sacks and baskets they carted around with them.
    Jabalah stopped at another ornate door framed with tiles and flowing Arabic script. The courtyard beyond was decorated with symmetrical patterns that seemed to merge into one another. A palm grew in the corner of the yard. It was warm in there. Ness looked up to see that the yard had a glass roof. They passed through another doorway and clambered up several flights of stairs and through an entrance covered by a heavy curtain.
    They stood in a large room, richly decorated with wall hangings and paintings. Ness’s shoes slid on the tiled floor. Daylight flooded through two doors that opened on to a balcony.
    An old man rocked to and fro on a backless low sofa in the centre of the room. He wore black robes but his bald head was uncovered. Ness shivered as he stared in her direction with blind, white eyes.
    ‘We have brought the girl, Hafid,’ Azuli said, bowing low to the old man.
    ‘You are Necessity Bonehill?’ Hafid said. His voice sounded cracked and stretched.
    ‘Yes,’ Ness replied, giving a slight curtsy in spite of herself. ‘Forgive me, sir, but how do you know my name?’
    Hafid gave a broad smile. ‘It is only fair that you understand. Sit.’ He pointed to a cushioned stool close to him. ‘We are the Lashkars of Sulayman.’
    Ness settled herself on the stool, glad to rest as her head still throbbed.
    The ancient man raised himself up and began in a reedy voice. ‘Once, Sulayman ruled justly over men, djinns and all animals. He could speak to the birds, such was the will of Allah.’ The old man planted his palms on the floor and dragged himself towards Ness, his white eyes staring at her. ‘But not all were happy to be ruled by Sulayman. The djinns, like man himself, have free will. They can choose to follow God or the devil. The djinns were a powerful race, full of magic and enchantment. Some were too proud to bow to a human king and they rebelled. An army of djinns rose up and lay waste to a third of Sulayman’s kingdom.’
    ‘Djinns?’ Ness said breathlessly. The thing in her dream had called himself a djinn.
    The wizened old man gave a croaking laugh. ‘Creatures of fire and light. Beings of the most powerful magic. You might call them demons but they are more than that.’ Hafid rocked back and forth and continued with his tale. ‘With the help of Allah, Sulayman crushed the djinns. Those who would not repent were each trapped in a brass bottle sealed with powerful spells and plunged into the darkest chasms of the sea –’
    ‘But mankind is ever curious and self-serving,’ Azuli interrupted. ‘Kings and magicians from the world over sought the bottles, hoping to harness the power inside.’
    Hafid nodded and chuckled, sucking at his toothless gums. ‘Sulayman created an order of holy warriors, or Lashkars, and set them to guard the place where the bottles lay. He charged them with ensuring that nobody ever disturbed the djinns inside.’
    ‘But someone did disturb them?’ Ness