Chapter 34
Salima’s courtyard was an eerily still place. Though I stood in the shade of a tall, thickly bladed palm tree, it did little
to cut the sweltering air. My shirt clung to the damp of my back, a bead of sweat rolling down my brow. It was too hot even
for insects to be flying about, their drone confined to buzzing in the shrubs.
Salima al-Hilli gave no indication of being affected by the heat. She stood with her back ramrod straight, her attention entirely
focused on Dunya’s letter. She had been staring at it long enough to have read the letter in its entirety at least a dozen
times.
She finally lowered the paper. “This is her decision?”
I had not read the letter but had a fairly good idea of its contents. “It is, Sayyida. She seemed very determined. Very capable.”
“She’s a child.” Salima folded the paper into increasingly smaller halves, as though its implications might vanish entirely.
“She says I am not to blame you. That you saved her life at great risk to your own, and that she begged you in the name of
her father to let her go.”
There was movement in the branches above us, a shifting and crackling as though something heavy shifted in the tree to get
a better look. I resisted the urge to glance up. Salima had not reacted, and I heard the noise as though it existed in another
world, almost dreamlike.
I was beginning to understand what that meant. What it would mean for the rest of my life.
I returned my attention to Salima. “I could not persuade her to come back to this life, Sayyida. I tried. But in spending time with her... I came to understand why she made that decision. I think you do as well.”
Salima shook her head. “God did not mean all dreams to be chased. Sometimes people must hide their hearts to survive, to honor
their family.”
“God made us who we are,” I said softly. “I have to believe we are to find wisdom in that.”
Salima scoffed, but she did not sound disaffected. She sounded heartbroken. “If I threatened you again, would you reveal her
location?”
“No,” I said plainly. “I gave her my word and she is likely long gone. She’s a talented scholar and has an unparalleled gift
with languages. People have made good lives with less. God willing, there may even be a day when you two meet again in peace.”
I steeled my voice. “I suggest you live to see that day, Sayyida.”
The unspoken threat lay heavy between us, a long moment of tense silence in its wake. I had not returned to this house without
being prepared to put a stop—by any means necessary—to whatever new threats Salima might fling my way. But I was weary of
bloodshed and prayed she saw sense.
Whatever was spying in the branches moved again. A shadow darted past my eyes, leaving a scent like lightning and desert dust.
Salima slipped the letter into her belt. “I want you out of my home. You saved Dunya’s life, and for that I will not pursue
you. I will leave your family in peace—I swear to God. But we part as enemies, nakhudha.”
“Understood.” I suspected asking for another share of the promised reward would have been pressing my luck, so I didn’t bother.
Her early payments were enough to get me, my ship, and my people through for now. It was not the life-changing fortune she
had promised, but I had seen my life changed enough. Salima’s dishonoring of our agreement was between her and God.
Instead, I bowed my head and turned to leave. No one made to escort me, but I had not come this far in my career without being able to retrace my way to an exit.
An exit that was in sight when a copper-hued hand grabbed my wrist.
Unfortunately for the hand’s owner, I was still getting used to my new strength. So when I spun on the shrouded figure, ripping
free of its grip and slamming it against the wall, I did so with more force than necessary.
The creature hissed, a burst of oddly sweet breath. Whether it was human or something else entirely, I could not tell. It
was swathed in a parchment-colored garment, and I could see nothing but a pair of glowing eyes beneath its deep hood.
“For the little one!” it gasped out, shaking a saddlebag.
I frowned but released the creature and took the bag. A glance revealed it was stuffed with books, scrolls, and tools whose
purpose I could not fathom. “What is all this?”
The creature made a disgruntled snort, brushing down its clothes. “What I could gather in a short amount of time. The family’s
work must continue.”
I gave it a baffled look. “And who are you?”
The creature glared with its fiery eyes. “Their djinn. Obviously .” Then it stepped through a wall and was gone.
***
The sudden appearance of the al-Hilli’s family djinn had delayed me, but I did not tarry further, joining my waiting companions
at the beach.
“Are the police behind you?” Majed called in greeting.
I didn’t break my stride. “No.”
“Soldiers from the governor?” Tinbu asked worriedly.
“Not them either. Salima said I made an enemy, but it seems saving her only grandchild’s life multiple times earned me a reprieve.”
“Any more reward money?” Dalila nodded at the bag. “That looks big enough to hold a fortune.”
“I wish. They are books for Dunya. A gift from the family djinn.” Dalila blinked and I sighed. “I can explain on the ship. We will have to make do with what money we have for the moment. We can look into other jobs later.
“But right now there is only one place I intend to go.”
***
Dawn was breaking as we anchored off a secluded beach south of Salalah, the cliffs and ancient fort concealing our arrival.
But not entirely. I may have kept my brother from our family’s true vocation and my daughter from my former life, but my mother
had watched for the Marawati’ s sails far too long to forget what our ship looked like. Even before I jumped into the surf, I could see her making her way
across the beach, her shayla blowing madly in the wind.
A much smaller, squealing figure raced ahead.
With a choked sob, I charged forward. I was at Marjana’s side the next second, catching my daughter in my arms and clutching
her tight. I pressed my face against her hair, tears running down my cheeks.
“Oh, my love,” I breathed. “My dear little girl...”
Marjana buried her head in my neck. “I missed you so much.”
“I know, my life. I know.” I picked her up with ease, carrying her in one arm as I made my way out of the water.
“Wow, Mama...” Awe stole into Marjana’s voice. “When did you get so strong ?”
“Amina!” My mother rushed to cross the distance between us, standing up on her toes to pull me down so she could kiss my cheeks.
“Alhamdulillah, God be praised!” Then she drew back and swatted my shoulder with far more force than was affectionate. “ Do you know how worried I have been? Could you not have sent a letter ? Did the Marawati fall off the edge of the world where there are no couriers?”
I drew my mother into a hug so fierce she had to stop yelling. “We ran into some difficulties; I apologize. But you don’t
need to worry about any of that right now.” I kissed Marjana again, tickling my noise against hers until my daughter giggled.
“I am home.”
And for the time being, that was all that mattered.