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Excitement ran in Mehmet's veins. She glanced over at Elishiba, beautiful, magical Elishiba. She hated her, wanted rid of her. She was more of an obstacle than a key. Now that the jinneyah was truly hers, she would gain control of Aleem through her power, instead. “Jinneyah, my first wish is for you to destroy my son's betrothed ... and make sure it's a painful death, why don't you."
The jinneyah bowed her head, smiling as if in anticipation. She opened her mouth and began to sing a peculiar song, her hands weaving together in front of her as if to guide the notes on the atmosphere. The assembled crowd looked on, mesmerized, as the sound filled the temple, a curious and unsettling tune, until within it the sound of a long and painful scream emerged.
Mehmet looked at Elishiba with anticipation, but she was still, her gaze averted elsewhere, which led Mehmet to the horror of the sight before them. In front of the prisoner's balcony, the slave boy Kazeen writhed on the floor in apparent agony, his fingers clutching at his throat and belly, blood pouring from his mouth onto the floor.
"Kazeen, no!” Hanrah shouted as he launched himself across the temple.
Mehmet's head snapped back toward the jinneyah. She had ceased her song and stood by with her arms folded beneath her bare breasts. “What is the meaning of this? I instructed you to kill my son's betrothed."
"I have done your bidding, owner. This is the person to whom your son considers himself betrothed."
Mehmet looked back to where the jinneyah pointed, at the slave boy Kazeen, now lying still on the floor, her son beside him wailing with grief, blood staining his clothing.
"That is not what I meant,” she cried out, confused. This was supposed to be about her gaining power. The occurrences here today were driving her to madness.
Hanrah lifted his head at the sound of her voice and shouted across the temple. “You should have known I had betrothed my heart to him."
He stood to his feet, blood dripping from his hands. He glared at her with an expression she had never before seen, one that shocked her to the core.
"I will never forgive you for this. I would rather be left in the desert without water than be your son, I curse you, mother of mine, you and every evil bone in your body!"
Horrorstruck, Mehmet saw the truth. He'd changed. He'd turned. She looked to Sibias, whose image floated strangely before her eyes. Faces stared at her all around, Hanrah's expression mirrored over and again. She backed away, broken by the unfamiliar look of retribution in her son's eyes.
* * * *
Elishiba watched the unfolding scene with both fear and caution. Her legs were shaking, her mouth dry.
As Mehmet slumped into her chair, her eyes clouded. Events had taken a strange and unexpected turn.
Elishiba's gaze flitted around the place as she tried to keep everyone within her sights. Hanrah seemed fixed where he stood in the center of the temple, staring at his mother in disbelief, blood dripping from his hands. The young man to whom the jinneyah had directed her power must have had been his secret lover, Elishiba realized, the one Amshazar had mentioned.
Sibias stood by; at first apparently thrilled by the sight of the loosed jinneyah, his mood had quickly turned with the tide of events. He looked as if he was about to take action. Beyond him, in the prisoners’ gallery, she sensed Amshazar was watching him too, as he had been all along. Amshazar's power and support had poured into her since she had entered the temple, even before. He guided her all along, and she had cautiously bided her time, waiting for the right moment. And apparently it had come.
Mehmet had used one wish, but now she was weak, losing sight of her purpose, her goals shifting all the while as she tried to find her path. Her guards and courtiers were growing restless, although wary under the awesome presence of the jinneyah. Now was the time for Elishiba to take action. But how? The question raced around her mind. A simple spell, Amshazar had said. She needed to take advantage of the Jinneyah's remaining wishes. But the Jinneyah answered only to her owner. Elishiba's mind whirred on. She could barely breathe, for the tension in her body was so acute. All around her emotions flared: fear, horror, fascination, disgust, curiosity. The whole gamut of human emotion poured out of the souls within this temple, those who had witnessed the strange things that had gone on. The jinneyah stood by, chuckling darkly to herself, patiently waiting to see what her owner said next.
How can I control this? The question echoed within, and as it did Mehmet let out a great moan of frustration, her fists slamming down on the arms of her throne. As she lifted her chin and let the wail of frustration out, Elishiba saw the way.
She looked at Amshazar. Their eyes met across the crowd. He nodded at her.
Mustering every bit of emotion inside her, Elishiba drew upon the love she had for the people who waited for her to see them safe. She rolled the emotions over and over until they grew huge, a power welling within her that she could use. When she felt it was large enough, she tapped Amshazar's vitality into it to further enhance it, and then pushed the force out across the temple.
Light flared across the gap between her and Mehmet. Mehmet's head dropped back against the headrest of her throne, and her mouth opened wide.
Elishiba mouthed the words she needed her to speak. “Jinneyah, my second and third wish is for you to return to the amulet, and for you to take me with you."
Mehmet's body shuddered. Her head was fixed back against the chair, her neck stretched and her mouth gaping as the strange garbled words spilled out. The Jinneyah roared fiercely and stamped her foot, anger spilling from her. Th
e sound rattled the very walls of the temple, dust and plaster falling around the room.
Sibias shouted his objection, hurling himself at Elishiba. She moved to avoid him, but a huge flash of light obscured her vision and then she saw that a figure blocked his way. It was Amshazar. He had broken free when she needed his protection and held back Mehmet's acolyte with splayed hands.
"The jinneyah. Elishiba, the jinneyah,” Amshazar shouted, as he battled with Sibias.
Elishiba's glance flitted between the two men, now wrestling each other with both body and will, and the jinneyah who was fuming in frustration.
Again she pushed, and the garbled words issued from Mehmet's mouth. “Return to your prison, and take me there with you, I command you as your owner."
Elishiba sensed resistance in Mehmet's body; it was shaking, shuddering as if she'd been poisoned. Her head was still fixed back, her throat swallowing convulsively. She kept the power flowing although the pressure to hold Mehmet in place and repeat the words to the jinneyah again was immense, her limbs shook and she felt sick to her gut from effort.
