They spotted many people on the western banks of the as-Sudat, mostly miners and traders. But only a brave or crazed few made their living on the eastern side of the river. They saw a few lonely miners in the distance, some scrawny shepherds and goatherders, but otherwise they had the mountains to themselves.
It was a time for reflection. Jebel had regained some of his vitality and was mildly excited to be closing in on Tubaygat. But he was troubled too and often fell to studying Tel Hesani, trying to imagine himself driving a knife into the Um Kheshabah’s chest or slitting his throat.
It had been easy in the beginning. Tel Hesani was a slave, fit only for execution. Now Jebel considered him a friend. Could he brutally end the older man’s life and send him to the hold of Rakhebt Wadak’s boat?
Jebel knew that he must, or the quest would have been for nothing, but he wasn’t sure that he could. He prayed to the gods to steady his hand when the time came, but he didn’t think they were listening. In a strange sort of way, he almost wished they weren’t.
They came to the point where the as-Sudat branched. One of its main tributaries veered to the west slightly before continuing north. The other cut to the northeast. This was regarded by most people as the key tributary, the true birthplace of the river. If Jebel and Tel Hesani followed this, they would come in the end to the river’s cradle, the legendary mountain of Tubaygat.
They rested at the river fork that night, studying the lights of the mines to the west, trying to count them but losing track after a while, like when a person tries to count the stars. Neither said it, but both were thinking the same thing—this was their last glimpse of civilization. No miners were foolhardy enough to ply their trade east of this point. All shepherds and goatherders kept their flocks far from Tubaygat. Complete desolation lay ahead of them. They were bidding farewell to the world of man, and at least one of them would never see it again.
“Do you think there’s a god in Tubaygat?” Jebel asked.
Tel Hesani squinted. “Why ask me that now? You never doubted before.”
Jebel shrugged, not wanting to admit out loud that he no longer had faith in the teachings of his elders. “It’s been decades since anyone successfully petitioned Sabbah Eid. What if the legends aren’t true, or if he returned to the heavens? What if we get there and it’s just a mountain?”
Tel Hesani was silent for a long time. Then he sighed. “Tubaygat is revered by races all over Makhras. It has to be more than an ordinary mountain. I’m not sure what we’ll find, but I’m certain it’s a place of mystery and wonder.”
“But if it’s not,” Jebel pressed. “If Sabbah Eid doesn’t exist. Do we return to Wadi? Will people believe we’ve come all this way if I return unchanged?”
Tel Hesani smiled grimly. “The Um Aineh are a wary, ungracious people. I wouldn’t hold out much hope of them accepting your word.”
“They’d probably execute me,” Jebel said glumly.
“Of course, you wouldn’t have to go back to Wadi,” said Tel Hesani. “You could visit other corners of the world, maybe become a trader.”
Jebel glanced up. “Would you come with me?”
“I couldn’t,” Tel Hesani said, staring south. “My wife and children are in Wadi. I’d have to try and save them.”
“But if it was too late…”
Tel Hesani shuddered. “I would go there anyway, to follow them into the realm of the dead. If I fail, I don’t want to live without them.”
Jebel had been poised to suggest a change of direction. He was ready to turn his back on Tubaygat and hail a ride south on one of the boats. But when Tel Hesani said that, Jebel held his tongue. He no longer had the heart for this quest, but if the alternatives were returning to Wadi to die or setting out alone into the world, he figured he might as well carry on. Perhaps a way out of their predicament would present itself farther up the path—but he doubted it.
They picked their way over the al-Meata, making camp each night and sleeping beneath thick rugs. They enjoyed the sun during the day but still had to wrap up warmly, because up this high it was never as hot as it looked. The mountains were ancient and dead, blackened and bare. Grass and wildflowers grew in occasional clumps, but for the most part the rock was unsuitable for plant life.
Large birds nested all over the place. They were able to fly great distances each day in search of food, and since so few predators lived there, it was safe to nest on the ground, among the barren rocks. Jebel and Tel Hesani survived by raiding the nests for eggs and eating the occasional hatchling.
One day they passed a pit in which lay the bones of two men, stripped white by the elements. They stared into the pit as they passed. These were possibly the remains of a quester and his sacrifice. They had come through much and made it so far, only to fall at this late hurdle. It made the pair wonder if a similar fate lay in store for them, if after all they had survived, they’d crash into a pit and perish shy of their goal. Both prayed to be spared such a wretched finale. Whatever lay before them at Tubaygat, they had come too far to fail now. They were determined to make it to the end, no matter how bitter it might prove to be.
Finally, late one afternoon, they rounded a bend and were confronted with the sight of a tall, broad, flat-topped mountain. It was unmistakably Tubaygat. Apart from its unique shape, it was darker than the other peaks, almost a perfect black, and smoke plumed upwards from a series of cracks and vents in the rocks.
They stared at Tubaygat in silence, filled with a sense of awe. Whether it was the home of a god or a mere geographical curiosity, this was a place of great impact, and no human could gaze upon it unmoved.
Tel Hesani looked to Jebel for a decision. “If we push on, we can maybe make it before dark,” he said. “But if you prefer, we can camp and wait for morning. We would have more shelter here.”
Jebel didn’t have to think long. “We’ll continue. I couldn’t sleep now that we’re this close.”
Tel Hesani felt the same, so they marched on. It was almost dusk when they arrived at the base of Tubaygat. They were panting from exertion and also from the heat—the rocks were even hotter here than at Hamata. They had to remove a layer of clothes as they stood in the shadow of the mountain.
There was a cave entrance nearby, nine feet high by seven wide. Large, jagged boulders stood on either side, like rocky sentries. It was the doorway to Sabbah Eid’s cave, exactly as described in the legends of the Um Aineh. According to the stories, only a successful quester and his companion could enter. All others would perish horrifically if they stepped across the threshold.
Jebel and Tel Hesani gulped, then started forward in silence. They passed the boulders and stood gazing into the darkness of the cave.
“Do you go first, or should I walk ahead of you?” Tel Hesani asked.
“I’m not sure,” Jebel said. “Maybe we should enter together.”
“I would like that.” Tel Hesani smiled. “And don’t worry. I’ll be beside you every step of the—”
Something struck the back of his head and he dropped, gasping with pain. Jebel thought a stone had fallen on Tel Hesani, and was bending to help him up, when a loud, angry voice froze the boy to the spot.
“Leave that cur alone, and stand with your hands over your head!”
The voice came from one of the boulders to Jebel’s left. Looking up, he saw half a dozen vicious, ragged creatures, five men and a woman, bone-thin, nicked with cuts and bites, their faces badly scarred, some missing ears, a nose, eyes, fingers. And at the front, the worst of the lot, both ears ripped off, one eye gone, a chunk torn out of his left cheek so that anyone looking at him from the side could see his tongue, was their leader—the crazed, enraged, vengeful Qasr Bint.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
As the Um Biyara leapt from the rocks, Tel Hesani struggled to his feet and drew a dagger. He tried to push Jebel behind him, but the boy refused to be shielded. “We fight together!” he cried, drawing a knife of his own.
“Very well, master,?
?? Tel Hesani said with a wry smile. Then the Um Biyara were upon them.
The zealots outnumbered Jebel and Tel Hesani but were in a worse state than the boy and the Um Kheshabah. The bats and um Gathaah had savaged them, and the road to Tubaygat had drained them even further. Only their hatred had kept them going as their strength failed and survivors dropped along the way. It was by no means an even fight, but Jebel and Tel Hesani stood more of a chance than they would have in a fight with six healthy opponents.
Qasr Bint and three of the men struck at Tel Hesani, leaving the woman and the remaining man to deal with Jebel. The man wielded a spear, the woman a pair of knives. When the man jabbed at Jebel, the boy sidestepped, then deflected the woman’s blades as she followed up. He moved faster than his assailants, and even had time to strike at the man and open a wound on his right shoulder before preparing for the next attack.
To his left, Tel Hesani had killed the foremost of the Um Biyara, but that was no great achievement—the man was almost dead anyway. He had been pushed ahead to distract Tel Hesani as the others launched a coordinated attack. They struck rabidly, snarling and spitting as they dug at him with knives, spears, and sticks, forcing him to retreat.
Jebel’s pair closed in on him again. This time the woman came first, knives twirling, teeth bared. He avoided her first lunge and turned her second blade aside. But he couldn’t dodge the man’s spear as it jabbed into his hip, bounced off the bone, and ripped free of his flesh.
Jebel cried out but didn’t drop his guard. Though the man was too far away to hit, Jebel feinted at him, forcing him to take a half-step back. Then the boy lashed out at the woman and caught her left hand, slicing the top of it wide open, causing her to drop her knife and flail away from him.
Qasr Bint prodded the top of his staff into Tel Hesani’s face, working on his eyes, trying to blind him with the beak of the baby vulture’s head. But Tel Hesani kept his chin low, bobbing his head left and right.
As Jebel avoided another assault, one of the men with Qasr Bint stepped too close to Tel Hesani, and the Um Kheshabah drove his knife deep into the man’s throat. Before Qasr Bint and his remaining companion had time to take advantage of the situation, Tel Hesani slipped out of reach. The advantage was his now, and on a level field he would probably have gone on to dispatch the final pair. But the fragile rock of the al-Meata floor crumbled beneath him as his foot came down. Although there was no pit, the drop of a few inches sent him tumbling. Before he could steady himself, Qasr Bint was over him, screaming triumphantly. Tel Hesani caught a glimpse of the zealot’s staff raised high. Then Qasr Bint drove the tip—which he’d sharpened to a spearlike point—deep into Tel Hesani’s chest, just below his heart.
Tel Hesani roared with fierce pain. The world flashed white. His fingers went limp, and the knife dropped. He fell back, helpless. It was a fatal wound, and he knew he would be dead within minutes unless Qasr Bint chose to finish him off sooner.
Jebel saw Tel Hesani fall. Ignoring his own safety, he darted towards his one-time slave. The woman stuck her leg between his and tripped him. He crashed to his hands and knees, scraping them raw. Grimacing with pain, he propelled himself to his feet—but was knocked down by the man, who drove an elbow into the small of Jebel’s back, then pinned him to the ground while the woman disarmed him. When she’d done that, she replaced the man on Jebel’s back and perched on him like a wild cat, digging in with her nails.
Jebel struggled until he realized how futile it was. Pausing, he looked over to see what sort of a state Tel Hesani was in. Qasr Bint had withdrawn the tip of his staff and was staring at the blood oozing out of the hole. He looked disappointed, as if he was sorry to have finished the slave off this quickly.
“Can I kill the boy now?” the woman asked, pointing her knife first at Jebel’s left eye, then his right.
Qasr Bint shook his head. “Not yet.” Stepping away from the dying Tel Hesani, he stood before Jebel and grinned demonically. Because of the missing flesh in his cheek, the grin seemed to stretch around the side of his face.
“So, boy, we come to our end. I’m sure you thought you’d seen the last of Qasr Bint and his children. But although many wicked spirits fell foul of those accursed bats, the pure among us made it over the bridge. We fought back the um Gathaah, and then we pushed on. I knew you’d come here.”
“How?” Jebel moaned. “We never told you where we were going.”
“You think I don’t know the mark of a quester?” Qasr Bint roared, poking at Jebel’s right arm with his staff, where the tattoo of the coiled serpent was hidden beneath the um Wadi’s sleeve. “That’s the reason I chose you in the first place. I knew, when I saw you in the Uneishu, that you were a quester and his slave, on their way to worship the false god Sabbah Eid.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jebel asked.
Qasr Bint smirked. “I was biding my time. I’ve long been curious about this place. I decided the time was ripe to explore, to come here with you and expose your god for the fake that he is. But I didn’t want to reveal my hand too soon. You might have—”
Tel Hesani groaned. Qasr Bint glared at the Um Kheshabah, then looked at Jebel again, nervously now. “We planned to kill you when you arrived. You cursed our mission. You’re the reason we fell foul of the bat-worshippers. You need to be wiped from the face of Makhras forever. But…” He hesitated.
“The fire,” one of the men said softly, gazing at the cave. “We sent a woman in first, and an unearthly fire devoured her. She died screaming.” He gulped.
“There’s no such god as Sabbah Eid,” Qasr Bint snorted. “Our gods alone are real. But sometimes one of them gets trapped on Makhras and mistaken by fools for a different deity. Such a god obviously resides in Tubaygat.”
Qasr Bint squatted beside Jebel and forced his chin up, so that they were staring directly at each other. “You will die tonight, boy. But it can be slow or quick, depending on whether you work with us or not.”
“I don’t understand,” Jebel wheezed. “What do you want me to do?”
“Take us in,” croaked Qasr Bint. “Only a quester and his companions can enter that cave. You’re going to get us inside. Once there, I’ll petition the god. When he sees that I am of the true faith, he will bless me with invincibility and great strength and send me forth to do the work of the Um Biyara. Impervious to harm, with the beating of any man, I’ll bring not just all of the people of Abu Saga to their knees in worship of the Biyara gods, but all of Makhras too. It’s time for the sinners of this world to see the light or perish.”
“You can’t,” Jebel said. “Only a quester can—”
“Don’t tell me my business!” Qasr Bint shouted, and kicked Jebel in the ribs. “You can guide us willingly, or we can force you. Choose.”
Jebel glanced from Qasr Bint to Tel Hesani, trying to think of a way out of this, but he couldn’t see any.
“All right,” Jebel said quietly. “I’ll do as you command.”
“A wise call.” Qasr Bint pointed to the two surviving men. “Grab the slave and bring him, in case he makes a miraculous recovery and sneaks up behind us.”
“Wouldn’t it be simpler to kill him?” one of the men asked.
“I want him to witness my ascension,” said Qasr Bint. “I want him to gaze into my eye before he dies and understand the greatness of the Um Biyara.”
Tel Hesani tried to respond but only coughed up blood. As he lay wheezing, the Um Biyara picked him up and moved to the mouth of the cave, where they stopped. “What if the fire comes again?” one of them asked.
“It won’t,” Qasr Bint said. “We have the quester with us now.”
“But if it does?” the man persisted. “How do we know that anyone ever walked out of there alive? The legends of successful questers might be nothing more than lies.”
Qasr Bint frowned, then jerked his thumb at the woman. “Go in with the boy.”
“But—” she started to protest.
“No arguments!?
?? Qasr Bint barked, and pointed at her with the sharpened end of his staff. “If you don’t go, you’ll suffer far worse than death by fire.”
The woman cursed, then got off Jebel, grabbed his ear, and hauled him to his feet. He winced but didn’t struggle as the woman pushed him ahead of her, then past the men and Tel Hesani, into the shadows of the cave.
The heat increased the moment they entered, and grew by the second until Jebel thought that he was going to melt. Flames licked the walls around them, spouting from the rock. Fiery fingers extended towards Jebel and the woman, to consume them. But then they spat angrily around the pair and retreated.
“See?” Qasr Bint shouted, advancing excitedly. “I told you we’d be safe with the quester. Never doubt me again, you worthless worms!”
The two men holding Tel Hesani followed Qasr Bint into the cave, although they didn’t look as confident as their leader. When they reached Jebel, Qasr Bint grabbed the boy’s elbow and shoved him forward. “Don’t forget what I told you. Say nothing when the god appears. The glory will be mine alone. You are a mere tool. If you interfere, I’ll—”
“WHO BREAKS THE SILENCE?” came a godly roar.
Everybody stopped and stared. Far down the cave, they saw a ball of light floating closer—the source of the voice.
“WHO ENTERS THIS CAVE?” the voice roared, even louder than before.
Qasr Bint spread his arms. “Great god of the Biyara! Hear your loyal servant, Qasr Bint, and grant me the mercy of an audience.”
The ball of fire continued towards them and drew to a halt several feet short of the ecstatic Qasr Bint. For a moment it burned silently save for the crackle of the flames. Then the voice came again.
“I KNOW OF THE UM BIYARA. WHY ARE YOU HERE?”
“We have quested,” Qasr Bint cried. “We come seeking power, to do the will of the mighty Biyara gods.”
There was a short pause. Then the voice said, “YOU LIE.” As Qasr Bint stared at the fire, astonished, the voice spoke to Jebel. “YOU ARE NOT UM BIYARA. YOU AND THE DYING ONE ARE DIFFERENT. WHERE ARE YOU FROM?”