Princess of Dhagabad, The (28 page)

“Defend yourself, Hasan!” the princess yells
at the top of her lungs. The wave of energy sweeps past her,
throwing her against the wall, pressing her hard into the space
between two dancing figures.
I am turning into one of the
ancient murals, so that I can forever be a part of the sacred
dance,
the princess thinks, even while the blanket of darkness
softly falls upon her head.

Chapter 16. On the Bank of the Great
River

The setting sun shines on her face through
the holes in the giant palm leaves. She can hear the singing of
birds and the splashing of water somewhere nearby. For a while she
tries to collect all these sounds and patches of sunlight, pushing
with difficulty through a circle of dancing figures filling all the
space around her. Then she starts feeling the smells—damp
freshness of the ground she is lying on; sharp smell of grass, and
delicate, barely perceptible aroma of lotus. Finally she recovers
the sense of touch—she feels the bumps of hard, uneven ground
digging into her back; a caress of cool breeze; and something else,
on her brow. A hand?

Enjoying her newly acquired senses, the
princess tries to move. It seems that her arms and legs still
respond to her commands, although she seems to feel her limbs as
something foreign to her body, something not completely belonging
to her… What is that hand doing on her brow? Or, is she only
imagining a hand is there? The princess is trying to remember where
she is and how she got here. Gradually, some pictures float in her
mind. The pyramids, the darkness, the temple. The sacred dance, the
terrible underground rumble. And the restless, wicked
Abdulla…

“Hasan!” the princess exclaims. She tries to
sit up, but her body is not responding very well; and this strange
object on her forehead, so much resembling a hand, does not allow
her to move her head.

“Don’t move, princess.” The voice that speaks
these words makes a lump come to her throat. So familiar, so dear,
so beloved a voice…

“Hasan!”

“You sound surprised, princess.” In spite of
the irony, the princess seems to hear in Hasan’s voice something
that sounds very much like relief.

“Where are we, Hasan?”

“We are on a shore of Ghull, princess.
Everything is fine.”

“And where is—Abdulla?”

“He disappeared in an unknown direction.” She
hears Hasan chuckle.

“Did you—fight?”

“Of course not, princess. There is no point
for me in fighting him. First, I am stronger than he is. And
second, he used to be my apprentice and I would never fight someone
I taught. Although I cannot honestly say I was a good teacher for
him.”

“But he—he wanted to destroy you,
Hasan!”

“Abdulla cannot control his anger, princess.
He regretted it as soon as he returned to his senses.”

“What did happen, Hasan? I can’t remember a
thing. Something was wrong with me—”

“He shot a wave of energy at me, princess.
Unfortunately, Abdulla does everything beyond measure. The wave was
so big that the edge of it hit you, too.”

“He could have killed you, Hasan!”

“You ordered me to defend myself at the right
time, princess.”

The princess feels a stinging under her
eyelids. Her eyes fill up with tears, depriving her for a while of
the eyesight she regained with such effort.

“Hasan…” she whispers. “If he had killed
you, I would have died, too. I don’t want to live without you. Did
you really want to die at his hands?”

“Of course not, princess.”

Do you ever regret your immortality? Do you
ever dream of release from your slavery by such simple and
unattainable means as death by the hand of a mighty wizard? Perhaps
you, knowing of the uncontrolled temper and constant jealousy of
the proud Abdulla, provoked him on purpose to challenge you to the
duel. Perhaps you were secretly cursing the resourcefulness and
recklessness of your mistress who saved you in the last second from
the deadly blow. Or perhaps you just weren’t sure of what would
happen to an all-powerful immortal spirit hit by a skillfully
thrown offensive spell. Perhaps you were just trying to bridge the
gap in your knowledge of the only field where the unknown powers
know more than you do, in the field of knowledge about the djinns
and absolute power.

Do you know what made you call Abdulla’s
anger upon yourself and stand still, in silent expectation of the
destructive blow? Can you forgive yourself for letting part of that
blow land on her, so innocent, ready to sacrifice her own life to
save you or to share your horrible destiny? Can you ever forget her
reckless bravery, her piercing scream, her lifeless body that you
are now trying so hard to fill with new life force, and her tears,
spilled for the sake of your release?

They are sitting side by side among the reeds
on the wet bank of Ghull, looking at the sun slowly sinking behind
the sharp line of the horizon. The princess, still weak and
shivering, wraps herself tightly in the blanket that Hasan pulled
for her out of thin air. From where they sit they cannot see the
main part of the river. A backwater pool, looking very much like a
lake, lies in front of them, surrounded by a tall reed thicket. The
turbid greenish water of the pool is so still that it seems like a
window into the upturned sky, reddened by the sunset. Several
lotuses in the middle of the pool appear to be hanging in midair,
gently rocking with the breeze or an underwater current.

“They probably won’t be happy back at the
palace with our staying out so late,” the princess says
unwillingly, torn between her desire to forever sit with Hasan on
the bank of the river, and the late-coming sense of duty.

“Don’t worry, princess,” Hasan says. “I
arranged it so that no one will even notice you are away.”

The princess relaxes at the thought that she
doesn’t need to think of her duties for a while, and submerges into
the blissful present, imagining herself to be a part of the clear
evening air, of the smell of the river water and strange plants, of
the rustling of leaves and the distant cries of birds. She feels in
a new way how great Hasan’s power is, allowing him with such ease
to resolve any of her problems, and how little she knows of the
limits of his abilities.

“I feel scared every time I think of how many
things you can do, Hasan…” she says quietly. “Although ‘scared’
is probably not the word.”

“It may seem scary sometimes, princess.”

“Not with you, Hasan. But I think it is only
now that I finally understand that magic can really be scary.” The
princess shivers, remembering Abdulla’s cold, restless gaze. “Of
course, I read about evil sorcerers, but it is one thing to read
about them and quite another to see them with your own eyes.”

“Abdulla isn’t necessarily evil,” Hasan says
thoughtfully. “Although I wouldn’t call him good, either. I would
say that in terms of good and evil sorcerers are just like ordinary
people. Only they can use stronger means to show their
feelings.”

“Could he really have killed you, Hasan?” the
princess asks, trying without much success to suppress the
trembling in her voice.

“I don’t know, princess. I know so little
about djinns, especially because they, or we, are created in a
world that I know nothing about.”

“And you really couldn’t defend yourself
without my orders?”

“Apparently not, princess.”

The princess slowly exhales the air she found
she had been holding back during his reply, trying to stop the
terrible pictures popping up in her head. She cannot bear to think
that all her happiness, everything important in her life,
everything that seemed so permanent and reliable, could have
disappeared so easily!

“When I ordered you to defend yourself, I was
thinking only about myself, Hasan.” Her voice is still trembling
and she is not even trying to hide it anymore. “I couldn’t imagine
life without you.”

She stops with a thought so terrible that
everything she just survived seems pale in comparison. She needs
several moments to gather all her strength and half-whisper the
horrible but inevitable question.

“Tell me, did you really even for a moment
want him to kill you?” She immediately regrets her words, just as a
man who throws himself into the abyss to end his life immediately
regrets the irreversible step. “No, don’t answer that!” she almost
pleads.

But Hasan is already speaking, looking
straight in front of him.

“I think I never seriously believed Abdulla
would raise his hand against me, princess. I was his teacher for so
many years. But probably there is no one left in the world who
could restrain him in any way.”

The princess madly regrets her question now,
and she is willing to accept this answer as neutral enough to
convince herself that everything happened as it should have. She
starts to speak, hurriedly trying to smooth the awkwardness, trying
to leave the horrible question behind.

“To think that he really entranced me with
his strange smoke! I was almost too late!”

“You showed incredible strength, princess,”
Hasan answers softly. “Had Abdulla even suspected that you could
overcome his spell, he would have thought of something much more
powerful.”

The princess feels chills of pleasure running
down her back at these words, and she wraps the blanket tighter
around herself to hide her emotions. She completely misses the
smile sliding over Hasan’s lips as he, turning away from her, looks
into the distance.

“Tell me what happened in the temple, Hasan.
Where did Abdulla go?”

“I averted his blow, princess, and he
realized he had lost the duel. I am much stronger than he is when I
am allowed to use my powers, and he knows it as well as I do. He
also saw you fall near the wall and he assumed that he killed you.
He was afraid I would try to avenge you. To escape without losing
face, he disappeared in a brilliant flash, as he usually does. I
think we won’t be seeing him for a while.”

The princess finally feels calm enough to ask
him another question that bothers her.

“What if he had killed me, Hasan? Whose djinn
would you have been now?”

“Probably your father’s, princess,” Hasan
answers thoughtfully. “Or perhaps I would have just returned to my
bottle.”

“I am so glad we are both unharmed, Hasan. To
think of the danger we escaped!”

The princess leans against Hasan, feeling the
pleasant firmness of his shoulder and his usual, barely perceptible
juniper smell.

“How long was I unconscious, Hasan?”

“Longer than I liked, princess. I had to
spend quite a while trying to bring you back.”

“Does it mean you saved my life, Hasan?”

“That is difficult to say, princess. You
might have recovered without my help.”

The princess inhales deeply, feeling strange
freedom from all fears, feeling that some unpleasant part of her
past has been left behind forever.

“It is so nice to sit here, by the water,
Hasan,” she says softly. “Let’s stay just a little bit longer.”