Call of the Djinn
by Sean Krummerich
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Table of Contents parts 1, 2, 3 |
conclusion
Zhahav’dul leaned in toward Ahmad and lowered his voice. “The Dark Djinn have developed a new weapon. They have developed an incantation that can give them the ability to render themselves invisible to other Djinn. With this, they can easily infiltrate our city and undermine our defenses.
“There is, however, a flaw in this incantation. Djinn so cloaked are still visible to humans. That is why we need you, Ahmad ibn al-Ghazi. We need you to climb to the top of our tallest tower and serve as our lookout. You will be able to see these Djinn, and your muezzin’s voice will be able to alert our warriors.”
Something inside of Ahmad stood up in protest, a burning, unresolved anger he’d carried with him all the way from al-Qahira. “And just why should I aid servants of a God who allows a woman and her children to burn to death?” he demanded with venom in his voice.
“You do not understand, Ahmad. God did not permit that tragedy to befall your family, any more than the Lord permits any calamity to occur.” Zhahav’dul’s face filled with compassion.
“When God created Djinn and humans, He gave them one of his greatest gifts: free will. But this has proven to be God’s greatest source of sorrow; for now that He has allowed free will, He has pledged to take no action to prevent the evils that Djinn and humans may inflict on each other. This also applies to so-called ‘accidents’ and natural disasters, which are many times caused by the Dark Djinn. We try to intercept and prevent such tragedies, but many times we arrive too late. One of those occasions,” he paused, lowering his head slightly, “was what cost your family their lives.”
Ahmad lay motionless and silent for some time, and then exploded in an outburst of rage and sorrow. “O cruel fate!” Ahmad said, his jaw quivering and hot tears streaming down his face. “Why have I been allowed to live to see such misery?”
Through his tears, he addressed Zhahav’dul: “I will help you, if only to make those monsters pay. But I ask one thing of you: as soon as this is over, please send me back to al-Qahira immediately.”
“As you wish,” replied Zhahav’dul, slightly bowing to Ahmad.
* * *
After having climbed the many steps up to the top of the highest tower in the city (following behind Zhahav’dul the entire way), Ahmad looked out through a large window in the tower at the city below him. He rubbed his throat, hoping that he’d have the vocal strength to alert all of the Djinn when he caught sight of the Dark Djinn.
Ahmad closed his eyes for a moment and, in what was to him rather a surprise, found himself mouthing the words to an ancient prayer that he’d learned as a child: There is no majesty, and there is no might, save in God Almighty. Then, opening his eyes, Ahmad gazed at the horizon, at the deep purple sky. He noticed that the jagged peaks, in a way, resembled the Makaavan Cliffs to the south of al-Qahira. Without a trace of desert wind, the gray sands stood eerily still before Ahmad. Hour after hour went by; an eternity, it seemed to him, had passed.
Then he saw it. Coming over the plains in between the mountain ranges, a mass of figures could be seen running, riding, even flying toward the city!
“The enemy approaches!” Ahmad shouted, before realizing that the Djinn stationed along the parapets were already beginning to react to this sight before he spoke. Apparently, Ahmad thought to himself, Djinn have better vision than I do, at least when it comes to the Djinn not using this “cloaking enchantment.”
Soldiers were now positioned along the outer wall, their bows drawn. In the main plaza below, Djinn stood with sharpened steel weapons drawn, anticipating an assault on the gate. Ahmad could discern Zhahav’dul commanding a large contingent on the western side of the gate.
As Ahmad was surveying the city’s defenses, the commander of the opposing army drew near to the city’s gates and shouted a demand for surrender, which was met with silence. Ahmad instantly heard a loud explosion, as the invaders opened their attack, hurling boulders at the wall. A hail of arrows rained down upon the enemy, shot en masse by soldiers stationed on top of the wall. The enemy quickly reciprocated, sending hundreds of arrows back toward the defenders.
Suddenly he heard a loud scream coming from one of the parapets. As he turned his head in that direction, one of the archers staggered backward, an arrow sticking through his chest. Within moments, the archer was engulfed in flames, and then vanished. It soon dawned on Ahmad that it must take a very powerful kind of weapon to harm one of the Djinn. He shuddered to think what might happen if he were to be hit with one of these otherworldly weapons.
Then he saw it. One of the enemy Djinn had broken off from the formation and was running for the wall. He was bathed in a luminescent black light. The figure leaped over the wall, running right past the archers stationed there, who failed to react. He saw the figure heading straight right for the Djinn army’s barracks, where a great many troops were waiting.
“Sector Alif! A knife in the darkness!” Ahmad called, using the code he’d been instructed to use to alert the defenders to the oncoming Djinn using the cloaking enchantment.
One of the guards stared keenly into the space surrounding the barracks, his sword poised in the air. As Ahmad’s warning rang out, the guard swung his sword in front of him, hoping to catch an enemy he could not see. Instantly, Ahmad saw the black glow disappear from the corpse of the suddenly decapitated Djinni. The guard looked down at his enemy for a moment, before the body vanished into flame.
For many hours — long Ahmad could not tell, there being no sun or moon by which to gauge time — the battle continued, casualties mounting on both sides. Many times, cloaked Djinn attempted assaults, all to be exposed by the former muezzin calling out their positions. At length, the tide of battle turned in favor of the defenders, and the enemy forces were cut down to a fraction of their initial size.
Suddenly, Ahmad heard a loud voice call out to him. He recognized it as belonging to the Djinni who had brought the dinner platter to Zhahav’dul earlier. He looked around, and saw that one of the enemy soldiers had mounted the wall, and had launched an arrow that was coming straight toward Ahmad’s position.
Before he could react, the servant Djinni floated straight into the path of the arrow, letting out a loud roar as the arrow hit him. The clouded figure fell and disappeared in flame before it hit the ground.
Not long afterwards, the hordes of the Dark Djinn, having been reduced to a few dozen soldiers, turned around and fled in retreat. Two Djinn flew up to the tower and carried Ahmad down to the ground. Zhahav’dul was running up to him.
“We have won, thanks to you, my friend!” the Djinni exclaimed, patting him joyfully on the back.
At that moment, as if an enchantment had dissipated from Ahmad’s body, he suddenly realized that he had kept himself awake and alert for far too long. Without a word, he slipped to the ground and passed out.
* * *
When he awoke, he was in the same bed and chamber in which he had first seen the Djinn city, Zhahav’dul now standing quietly over him.
“Once again, I welcome you,” Zhahav’dul said. “As I was about to tell you before, one of our soldiers captured one of the enemy who had in his possession a copy of the spell which allowed them to cloak themselves from our sight. We now have that capability, and the enemy would not dare use it again.”
“So I guess you won’t need to keep me here, then?” Ahmad asked with a hopeful, yet somewhat cynical tone.
“Do you still not trust us? I gave you my word that I would send you home after the crisis was over, and I will keep my promise.”
Following a great celebratory feast, Zhahav’dul escorted Ahmad into the courtyard outside the palace. Zhahav’dul, reaching into a chest propped against one of the support pillars and pulled out a large leather pouch and a great bejeweled necklace. As he turned to Ahmad, he said with a voice full of gratitude:
“You have done a great service to us that we can never truly repay you for. But please accept these tokens of our deepest appreciation. There is enough wealth here for you to live comfortably for the rest of your days.”
“Thank you,” said Ahmad, accepting the gifts from Zhahav’dul with humility.
“Tell me, Ahmad, why did you ask to be sent back to al-Qahira? I thought you had been going to al-Hajriyah.”
Looking deeply into the Djinni’s eyes, Ahmad replied, “I wished to see more of the wider world, and I have seen quite enough for one lifetime.”
“Very well,” said Zhahav’dul with a slight bow of the head.
At that moment, the luminescent outline of a door appeared before them.
“There is the portal,” observed Zhahav’dul. “Just walk through it, and you will find yourself on the outskirts of al-Qahira.”
Ahmad paused for a moment, and turning back, said, “Just one question, though. Why did your servant sacrifice himself to save me? After all, by that point in the battle, my skills were no longer necessary to ensure victory.”
“He was fulfilling his duty. Like all of the faithful Djinn, his purpose was to protect and help humans. I told you this before. Perhaps now you understand.”
Ahmad walked forward, into the portal, and just before vanishing from sight, he said, “Farewell, Zhahav’dul, prince of the Djinn!”
“Farewell, Ahmad ibn al-Ghazi!”
One morning, several days later, Ahmad walked into the mosque and greeted the imam.
“Brother Ahmad! I heard that you had returned to al-Qahira, but I did not think it could be true! Tell me, how did you manage to make it back without the aid of a caravan?”
“It is a long story, which I may tell you someday. How has life been for you?”
“Much the same as always. I have been looking for a replacement muezzin, but I have not yet found one whose voice resonates as yours did.”
“If it is agreeable to you, then, I would like to resume my old post.”
“Of course, of course!” replied the imam, with a smile forming on his weathered face. “Does this mean that you have regained your faith in the most merciful and compassionate God?”
“I’m not sure if I have or not, really.” He reflected briefly about the moment he’d found himself praying for help. Indeed, he mused, standing before the imam: Something out there responded to my call. “But I have recently learned that we are all called to serve others as best we can. Perhaps, after all, this is the way I should be doing so.”
“Very well. Welcome home, brother Ahmad! The morning call to prayer should be starting in just a little while, if you may be so gracious as to lead us.”
“Certainly.”
Ahmad climbed up the stairs of the minaret, and emerged in the tallest tower, far above the city. He cleared his throat, and began to chant, summoning the good people of al-Qahira to prayer.
Copyright © 2024 by Sean Krummerich
