Chapter 32
The Lost Treasures of Moonsin Maroof
Once, a very rich man named Moonsin Maroof wanted to marry, but he did not want his wife to know how rich he was.
He hid his treasure in caves and near wells and asked the spirits of these locations to watch over it for him.
He had such an excess of wealth, he couldn't keep track of all the exact locations, so he arranged a password with the spirits.
If he ever got turned around, he only had to utter the word, and the spirits would guide him to his fortune.
He would often go to visit his treasure, only to remind himself how rich he was, and did this at the neglect of his new bride.
Assuming he was having an affair, she followed him one night.
She began to allay her loneliness by using the password she overheard and helping herself to his treasure.
First small amounts, then eventually enough that Moonsin noticed.
He accused the spirits of stealing from him, and as they had only helped him and asked for nothing in return, they were understandably upset.
They buried Moonsin's treasure deep in the earth, at new locations, scattered far and wide.
The spirits then took the ungrateful Moonsin's wife for themselves, leaving him alone with nothing.
The wife bore children, and the descendants of these children, known by the strange marks they bear on their body, are able to locate the hidden treasures, many of which are still out there. Waiting to be found.
It takes a large part of the little time they have, but Shay begins to learn the capabilities of different types of animals, which ones are less cooperative due to their disinterest in pleasing humans—cats and reptiles—and which are most educable—rats and, surprisingly, pigs.
She practices joining consciousness with them and trains herself to maintain that connection across progressively wider distances.
By the time she feels ready—relatively speaking—to attempt obtaining the first of the three missing hjabats, there is only one moon quarter remaining before the meteor shower occurs.
Shay rides the skies behind the eyes of a midnight iris.
When they clear a massive cliff that appears to float on the horizon, she gets her first glimpse of water.
The glittering waves appear all at once, blue suddenly stretching in every direction.
As impressive as that is, it doesn't prepare her for what comes next: a plunge into the depths of the Cerrabi.
Underwater, Shay inhabits an octopus. There's a heart-stopping moment where she is uncertain whether she can breathe. Then she remembers that her body is still in Ard Al-Ghul at the brothers’ cottage.
She's in an altered state, but able to take in and expel all the air her land-dwelling lungs require.
She skims along the watery floor, past intricate shelves of coral reef and scintillating schools of silver fish, toward the submerged caves.
The octopus's panoramic vision is not unlike that of the bird, but where the bird's vision encompassed a wider range of colors than Shay is used to perceiving, octopus vision consists of fewer colors.
Extraordinarily, the creature is able to adjust the focus of its eyes when traveling from well-lit environments to darker ones, like the cave of Chefrika.
It's as though the octopus has field glasses and light beams built right into its eyeballs and the muscles around them.
Her vision changes again when they locate the chest hidden deep within the cave.
As she persuades a wrench crab to help pick the heavy lock that seals it, the world becomes a mosaic of overlapping images.
The creature employs the extra pincers its species is known for with a deftness that puts even Shadi's burglary skills to shame.
It's a dizzying ride as she transfers her consciousness back to the octopus again. The necklace, a baroque red crystal girdled in brass prongs and strung upon an antiquated chain, is ferried across the ocean floor in the bowl of an abandoned coconut shell until they reach the shore.
Shay prepares to head home with the iris, amazed at how successful this first leg of her mission has been. She almost doesn't notice the boat.
It's the B'hamu divers among the crew that first catch her attention, identifiable by the sleek one-piece garments that cling to their forms. The sight of them here on the coast of Lahat would not be alarming in itself.
But peppered among the crew are other men wearing the checkered scarves that denote an affiliation with the Naturalists.
Shay's excitement stalls. She may be tired from her new mother-adjacent role, but it doesn't take a brain functioning on a full night's sleep to reach the conclusion that the CNM is here for the same reason she is.
Shay opens her eyes. She's sitting in the grass outside the cottage, right where she's been all along.
If she feels a little off-balance, it's a small price for such an amazing experience.
The day is sunny and fair, the kind where clouds take on familiar shapes that change if you keep watching them, the sky putting on a grand show of metamorphosis.
“You did it,” Shadi gasps, smiling as his gaze swings from Shay to the iris.
The bird perches on a tree stump, the necklace sprawled at its clawed feet. The prized jewel embodies every shade of red, all bedazzled by the sun. Najla gurgles in her basket nearby.
“I had some help.” Shay bows her head toward the bird in deep gratitude. “I hate to ask for more from you so soon, my friend, but I fear our window of time grows narrow. How quickly can one of your brethren be available for the next journey?”
My successor will arrive tomorrow, the bird reassures her before taking off.
“Shay?” Shadi lays a warm, worried hand on her arm. “Don't you need to rest?”
Her body answers for her with an irrepressible yawn.
In the quarters since her arrival, the baby has brought Shay much joy and little sleep.
She's drained, both from the frequent breastfeeding and from expending her Shawafa.
Magic turns out to be a lot like physical training—one must build up their endurance.
Shay feels it, deep in her bones and in the very fibers of her brain: She's pushing herself too hard. But what choice does she have? Besides, when she does manage to fall asleep, she sees her mother as she last did, face masked in death, like the image has been engraved inside the lids of her eyes.
“We can't wait.” Shay picks up the necklace.
She cradles the crystal, as if it could impart the strength she needs, and it does, to an extent.
The heavy weight in her palm is evidence that she's already accomplished more than she thought she could.
Its smooth contours and sharp-edged facets remind her that Khawla, Najla, and all women who hope for a future of dignity and self-actualization are bound to the same pulsing red heart of a common destiny.
“I saw a ship. There were CNM members diving near the caves. I think they may be looking for the hjabats, just like we are.”
Shadi receives this news with an anxious intake of breath, his shoulders rising and falling like a crashing wave. If anyone besides Al-Mukhtar would want to prevent the return of women's magic, it's the Naturalists. “That means there's a good chance they also know where the other two are located.”
“Exactly.” Shay moves toward Najla, who has begun to suck on her balled fist, an early indicator that she needs to be fed. “We aren't just racing against the clock anymore. We're racing against opponents whose skills and resources I can only imagine must be superior.”
“Don't underestimate yourself.” Shadi's lips hook in a half grin, a breeze tugging errant curls across his forehead.
“We have to take this one step at a time.
We can't control what the Naturalists know or what they're doing.
But we can make sure you're as strong as possible, which means eating, drinking fluids, and sleeping.
I can't do what you do with animals, but I can lighten your load by helping care for Najla, by caring for you, so just show me what you need me to do.”
A sense of wonder washes over Shay as she settles back on the grass, Najla now cradled in her arms. She stares into Shadi's warm brown eyes.
She thought she was beginning to understand what love is, but the way he seems to understand her needs without her saying a word leads her to believe she has only scratched the outermost surface.
Another iris “carries” Shay over the towering peaks and deep gorges of Umm Chanala to the lush oasis of the holy institute.
The complex is built abreast of a cliff face with a waterfall cascading next to it.
The air in the mountains smells like damp moss, dry bark, and wild roses.
The sun seems to shine not down, but suffusing in a golden aura that radiates from every direction.
Here, her avian friend has arranged for another helper to take over: a monkey with ginger-colored fur and shy, contemplative eyes.
The institute's entry lies at the end of a cobblestoned bridge that crosses the polished-mirror waters of Tafi Tafi Springs.
The group of pilgrims departing with several Marabouts pays no mind to the monkey as they pass it along the bridge.
The long sticks they carry and the broad hats they wear suggest they're heading out for a hike.
The entry is unguarded. The benevolent Marabouts fear no intruder, placing their safety in the remoteness of their location, their trust in the Creator, and their lack of any known enemy.
The monkey creeps into the complex as if it's used to doing so, moving quickly between objects, sticking close to corners, finding cover when a human happens to be near, and avoiding what few busy areas there are.