was insane!
Hafid narrowed his eyes again. ‘I think you can, Necessity Bonehill,’ he whispered. ‘I sense that you are important to our quest. You aren’t like others . . . Do you feel that?’
Ness’s cheeks reddened even more. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she lied. Of course she felt different. She always had. She wasn’t like the silly girls at the Academy – or like anyone for that matter. She was a Bonehill. She was special!
‘Before we can take the silver blade into battle,’ Hafid said, sucking on his toothless gums, ‘we must locate the djinn.’
‘And then who will carry the final sword?’ a voice called from the door.
Ness turned to see another tall, old man, his silver hair emphasised by the darkness of his skin. Ness could tell he had once been a fighter by his poise and grace but he had thinned with age. He wore rich silk robes of purple and a red turban with a jewelled clasp at the front.
‘Father,’ Azuli said, hurrying to his open arms.
Ness felt a sting of jealousy as father embraced son. Although they both had fierce, glittering eyes, Azuli did not share Taimur’s sharp, hawkish nose.
‘I will carry the sword. Taimur, you know I am younger than you,’ Jabalah said, worry lining his face. ‘That honour should fall to me.’
Ness looked from one man to the next. They all looked ancient to her. Something troubled her. The same feeling she had had as Jabalah led her through the streets. As if she were looking at a picture and some obvious detail was missing. What is it?
‘No, you fought the previous djinn,’ Taimur said, ruffling his son’s hair. ‘I am senior. I should carry the sword.’
‘Father, no!’ Azuli stepped back. ‘You can’t!’ He turned to Hafid and dropped to his knees. ‘Hafid, with the greatest respect, the Lashkars are old. The tragedies of the years have ravaged them. Give me the chance to lay the final djinn to rest!’
‘You do not lack courage, Azuli,’ Hafid muttered, shaking his head. ‘But you are not truly of our line. An adopted child never inherits the Lashkar blood.’
Azuli stood up. ‘I’m not good enough? Is that what you’re saying?’
‘Azuli!’ Taimur snapped, grabbing his son’s shoulder.
Hafid swayed as if Azuli’s outburst would blow him down. ‘It is not a question of whether you are good enough. It is whether or not you understand our true calling. You are rash and impetuous. Nobody asked you to steal the bottle, yet you tried. And you failed.’
Azuli stood fuming but unable to counter the accusation.
‘I’ve heard enough –’ Ness began.
‘The djinn is free,’ Hafid hissed, grabbing her wrist with his withered hand. Ness could see the veins pulsing within, the bony knuckles and cracked nails. ‘I can smell his foul breath on the wind of the city. You know it’s true!’
‘Let go and find him then!’ Ness cried, snatching her arm from his grasp. ‘I saw a creature, smoke and then . . . the girls at the Academy, they . . . It was horrible . . . Now he has my parents too. And it’s all my fault.’
‘To find the djinn, we must think first, then act. Tell me, Miss Bonehill, why did you open the bottle?’ Hafid said, leaning forward in his seat.
‘I didn’t know what was in it,’ Ness sniffed, hugging the sack to her. ‘It was sent to me by Uncle Carlos.’
‘Carlos Grossford,’ murmured Taimur.
‘You know him?’ Ness gasped, staring at the stern-looking man.
‘Knew him,’ Hafid said softly and inclined his head. ‘He was murdered last month . . . his throat cut.’
‘Murdered? Last month?’ Ness’s eyes widened, her heart pounded. Tears stung her eyes. Poor Uncle Carlos . ‘But he only sent me the bottle a few days ago. Why would anyone want to . . . ?’
‘Why wouldn’t anyone?’ Taimur said, giving a snort. ‘Grossford was involved in all manner of extortion.’
‘No.’ Ness shook her head. She gasped for breath. All this talk of djinns and murder was too
Hafid narrowed his eyes again. ‘I think you can, Necessity Bonehill,’ he whispered. ‘I sense that you are important to our quest. You aren’t like others . . . Do you feel that?’
Ness’s cheeks reddened even more. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she lied. Of course she felt different. She always had. She wasn’t like the silly girls at the Academy – or like anyone for that matter. She was a Bonehill. She was special!
‘Before we can take the silver blade into battle,’ Hafid said, sucking on his toothless gums, ‘we must locate the djinn.’
‘And then who will carry the final sword?’ a voice called from the door.
Ness turned to see another tall, old man, his silver hair emphasised by the darkness of his skin. Ness could tell he had once been a fighter by his poise and grace but he had thinned with age. He wore rich silk robes of purple and a red turban with a jewelled clasp at the front.
‘Father,’ Azuli said, hurrying to his open arms.
Ness felt a sting of jealousy as father embraced son. Although they both had fierce, glittering eyes, Azuli did not share Taimur’s sharp, hawkish nose.
‘I will carry the sword. Taimur, you know I am younger than you,’ Jabalah said, worry lining his face. ‘That honour should fall to me.’
Ness looked from one man to the next. They all looked ancient to her. Something troubled her. The same feeling she had had as Jabalah led her through the streets. As if she were looking at a picture and some obvious detail was missing. What is it?
‘No, you fought the previous djinn,’ Taimur said, ruffling his son’s hair. ‘I am senior. I should carry the sword.’
‘Father, no!’ Azuli stepped back. ‘You can’t!’ He turned to Hafid and dropped to his knees. ‘Hafid, with the greatest respect, the Lashkars are old. The tragedies of the years have ravaged them. Give me the chance to lay the final djinn to rest!’
‘You do not lack courage, Azuli,’ Hafid muttered, shaking his head. ‘But you are not truly of our line. An adopted child never inherits the Lashkar blood.’
Azuli stood up. ‘I’m not good enough? Is that what you’re saying?’
‘Azuli!’ Taimur snapped, grabbing his son’s shoulder.
Hafid swayed as if Azuli’s outburst would blow him down. ‘It is not a question of whether you are good enough. It is whether or not you understand our true calling. You are rash and impetuous. Nobody asked you to steal the bottle, yet you tried. And you failed.’
Azuli stood fuming but unable to counter the accusation.
‘I’ve heard enough –’ Ness began.
‘The djinn is free,’ Hafid hissed, grabbing her wrist with his withered hand. Ness could see the veins pulsing within, the bony knuckles and cracked nails. ‘I can smell his foul breath on the wind of the city. You know it’s true!’
‘Let go and find him then!’ Ness cried, snatching her arm from his grasp. ‘I saw a creature, smoke and then . . . the girls at the Academy, they . . . It was horrible . . . Now he has my parents too. And it’s all my fault.’
‘To find the djinn, we must think first, then act. Tell me, Miss Bonehill, why did you open the bottle?’ Hafid said, leaning forward in his seat.
‘I didn’t know what was in it,’ Ness sniffed, hugging the sack to her. ‘It was sent to me by Uncle Carlos.’
‘Carlos Grossford,’ murmured Taimur.
‘You know him?’ Ness gasped, staring at the stern-looking man.
‘Knew him,’ Hafid said softly and inclined his head. ‘He was murdered last month . . . his throat cut.’
‘Murdered? Last month?’ Ness’s eyes widened, her heart pounded. Tears stung her eyes. Poor Uncle Carlos . ‘But he only sent me the bottle a few days ago. Why would anyone want to . . . ?’
‘Why wouldn’t anyone?’ Taimur said, giving a snort. ‘Grossford was involved in all manner of extortion.’
‘No.’ Ness shook her head. She gasped for breath. All this talk of djinns and murder was too
Similar Books
