Before . #2
The children tittered in nervous laughter. A karkadann, the word spread. ‘It will devour us,’ Hawah insisted.
‘Fear not, child. I have a young apprentice who will hunt it. A hunt through folktelling.’
Understanding dawned on me. I knew suddenly, as I knew to expect the rise and fall of the sun, she expected me to subdue the ancient beast. She’d brought the tribe’s children as bait.
Babshah caught my gaze and her lips smirked up.
A roar split the air and the companion birds at our shoulders shrieked and cawed like a bad omen. Even a bright swarm of sprites flew past our shoulders. Run! I heard their high screams.
I scrambled away as a dark blur trampled through the pine trees, knocking down trunks like a child tossing clay dolls.
‘Observe well, young tribesmen,’ Babshah announced nonchalantly, but not before gripping my wrist hard. A forceful woman, she did as she pleased. ‘Today, this cursed girl’s training will be conveyed to the tribe. She will enchant the beast with her tongue before felling it with a single strike.’
My whole being trembled. ‘I cannot,’ I admitted.
The wind lashed against our backs, but the chief folkteller held steadfast against its punishment.
From a cloth pouch dangling from her lambskin belts, she produced a stick of black powder and two masks.
She smeared the black sormeh on the waterlines of my eyes, then strapped the wooden ceremonial mask engraved with wild wolfish features and crane feathers on to my face.
She smiled. ‘You must, my apprentice. Together, we will use your training and defeat the beast with a story. Chin up. Arms long and strong. Become the words. Heed me, the creatures of jinn-folk are inept beings who fall for sweet words.’
My birds nuzzled into my shoulder. I stroked their beaks. ‘At ease,’ I croaked.
At that, the karkadann trampled forth into the field, tearing the hanging eaves of elm.
A coat of fur, blue as a corpse, enclosed a thick muscular body.
The beast roved in a large circle, horn casually piercing through fir trunks and slinging them away.
Smoke huffed through its bloated nostrils, a silver blazing fire.
The children sobbed and shrank, avoiding the sailing trees.
‘Quit your warbling!’ Babshah huffed at them, face suddenly serious. ‘The beast scents the youngest virgin souls. Do not attract its attention.’
Before I could flee, she shoved me forward into the path of the karkadann.
Only a thin glacial stream, from run-off sloping over the grass, lay between me and the beast. Its heavy hooves stomped through the icy water with such force, the water showered into a mist. Red eyes of fury tracked my careful movements.
I crouched and circled it fast. It thrashed and twisted its body to follow me.
Using the diversion, I unwound my leather cord, swinging the rope. The birds at my shoulder answered, soaring rapidly over the karkadann.
Though Haj assumed my buzzards to be paltry and insignificant, Babshah boasted that twin buzzards are advantageous for size and speed, a deception paired in two.
Under my breath, I prayed to the Divine to keep me safe, for the humans, animals and jinn-folk are all under His creation.
Then I ordered, ‘Now,’ and one buzzard dove into the karkadann’s hide, its beak piercing fur.
The karkadann bucked and roared, jabbing its long horn to swipe the bird.
As the first buzzard, it distracted the beast.
My cord swung, and the other buzzard shot forward, raking its talons across the beast’s thick neck. As the second bird, it gave the brunt of attack.
‘Good, my apprentice. Now to enchant it with my story . . .’ Babshah brushed her robes nonchalantly and drew her body straight, fixed on her mask and faced the karkadann. The chief folkteller began thus her tale.
‘O, tribesmen and jinn, let me tell you a legend as old as the clay itself. Once the world was not so.’
The karkadann stilled.
‘Before the Great Flood, before humans, before even Prophet Father Adam, there were the angels and the jinn.
‘The One Great Divine, God of all creation, shaped the angels from the purest Heavenly light; created the jinn from the smokeless part of the flame; moulded humans from dirt and clay.
‘Two creations: jinn of the smokeless fire, and humans of dirt, but both with souls and free will; and angels with none – made only to obey the Divine who created the Heavens.’
Stood beside Babshah, I scooped the wettest dirt, shaping it quickly into a human form, just as she’d taught me.
Using the shadows of the trees against sunlight, I moved to the rhythm of Babshah’s words.
I stooped low and stalked around the karkadann, arms up, holding the earthen doll.
The shadow of my form played against the ground, growing into a mean, black gangly outline of a make-believe jinn that plucked and devoured the clay doll.
My teeth gnashed with concentration. The karkadann, enchanted by my shadow, roared, swinging its horned head in response. My foot slid back. I matched its stance. Abruptly, it ceased its cry. Whether in wonder or confusion, I could not be sure.
Babshah nodded approvingly. For a second, her gaze on my shadow hesitated. Something in the shadow moved without me. I shook my head and continued to act out Babshah’s tale, my movements becoming a dance to accompany her words.
‘In a time when the desert winds whispered secrets beyond even the sea, when the only beings that dwelled were fire-imbued tribes, reigned the jinn. Those creatures of smokeless fire.
‘Some were righteous, yet most harboured not love, but mischief, warring amongst themselves and spreading corruption across Brother-Nature.’
I stepped close to the karkadann, sending the children scurrying back. Their cries fell silent as it lowered its head.
When I placed my hand before the beast, my tribesmen gasped. I offered the beast my clay doll. Reflected in its red, intelligent eyes, I saw myself burning. But I wore a warrior mask, embodying a beast as well, and I stared back.
Attack me, beast, I imagined shouting.
Babshah continued her tale. ‘With their powers, the jinn weaved illusions and deceit, shapeshifting to trick even their own kin. They traversed vast distances in the blink of an eye up to the cosmos; they eavesdropped on the murmurs of Heaven’s affairs.
Such arrogance invoked the wrath of the Divine.
The angels were commanded to cast the jinn tribes into the hinterlands and oceans beyond mortal sight. ’
Though its body was still, an icy white mist poured from the beast’s mouth, like a river, and the cold of it stroked against my mask.
Instead of fleeing, I bent my legs and leapt over the mist – as if a fire-being myself – so fast that I didn’t feel the icy burn before dropping and rolling to my feet.
The crowd gasped at the trick. I unclasped my fur vest, flapping it with a whip of my arm like a crow’s wing.
‘Thus, the Veil between Seen and Unseen was drawn, hiding the jinn from human eyes, except when they shapeshifted into animals. Yet, they linger, tempting the hearts of humans with worldly desires away from Prophet Father Adam’s and Nuh’s teachings.’
I partitioned the vest like a Veil between the karkadann and myself before shrinking on to all fours.
‘Shunned from the Seen world, many jinn reside in some matters of forgotten objects, from desolate mountains to needles, and under trees – from the demonic d?v to the accursed marid, to gh?ls, sil’a and karkadann.’
Babshah’s telling followed my silent crawl.
‘Beware, young ones. Lest you fall prey to the beasts who devour souls. Or worse, the jinn’s enchantments tempting humans into black magick, a type of forbidden power that does not use faith or the Heavens, but instead mischief and deceit. For once ensnared by the jinn, escape is a distant dream.’
I crawled behind the karkadann as it rumbled toward Babshah, bewitched by her tale. Had such a beast in its long existence ever heard a story spun from humans about its own jinn-kind?
I mouthed a prayer, by praising the Divine, into my hands. Then I blew across the karkadann’s hide, and it writhed from the effect of the prayer, its hooves staggering before it turned around. It stamped a thick foot, readying to charge toward me.
Babshah held up one finger. One chance, she signalled.
I squared my shoulders and whistled for my buzzards. With a final loop of my cord, the two birds dove into the beast, swiping and raking talons. The karkadann swung its horn to swat them. With the beast’s head lifted up, it charged at me.
I ran forward and propelled my foot off the nearest boulder for height. My body spun and, in the air, I notched the arrow above my shoulders, shooting backwards. The arrow buried itself into the soft underside of the beast’s risen neck, which yielded until the shaft disappeared.
Babshah neared the end of her tale.
With a broken mew, the karkadann stilled and collapsed. Its body melted into the shadows, leaving only a curved, shimmering horn. According to Babshah’s legends, a karkadann’s horn, when ground and brewed, cured any illness.
I landed in a crouch. ‘And,’ I proclaimed the final words. The buzzards rose forward, and the other birds flocked into the pasture. They squawked a haunting harmony. ‘Perhaps there is a jinn amongst us, sitting before the woodland.’
Without my realising, the tribe’s older warriors had joined the gathering. I spotted Uma, her mouth parted in delighted shock, and the khan beside her, eyes crinkling. I couldn’t recall my mother’s happiness until now.
‘Our jinn huntress,’ the khan declared, lifting the horn relic and my
hand.
‘No, our folkteller,’ Babshah Khatun corrected her husband.
Never had my kinsmen smiled at me. No one flinched at seeing the birds surround me.