instinctively raised a hand to grasp Bush and pull him free. But then the rock snapped back into place and hardened, trapping the pair of villainous Masters within its folds.
There was a thin, ghostly cry. “
Then silence.
The shadow swirled around its victims for a minute, then split into nine parts and drifted away, leaving the fossilized dead behind.
Jebel studied the rocky remains. Blair’s back was to the boy, barely sticking out of the cliff, easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it. But Bush was facing him, eyes and mouth wide, hands reaching out to beg for help over the hundreds and thousands of years to follow, until the snow and winds eroded his image.
Jebel stared somberly at Bush’s terrified expression and his extended hands, noting the curl of his fingers, the way his palms tilted upwards. If anyone passed by here in later years, they might think that this was a sculpture carved out of the rock and wonder if it was the representation of some beloved martyr or holy man.
Jebel turned his back on the cliff and the doomed Masters Bush and Blair and trudged down to the caves, where he ate a quiet meal. Then he wrapped up warmly and sat in the gloom, eyes distant, feeling very alone, replaying the death of Bush and Blair over and over in his mind, taking not even a grain of satisfaction from the grisly memories.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Jebel ate, brooded, and slept. There was no way of telling day from night in the caves, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t interested. A great weariness had settled upon the boy. He didn’t think about the future, what would happen to him if he ever left this place, where he might go if he did. He was alone with his thoughts, and most of those were horrible.
He tried to find comfort in the happier past, recalling Debbat Alg, his family, Bastina and her mother, life in Wadi when he was innocent and free. But none of that seemed real to him now. It was hard to believe it had ever happened. A world without pain, loss, betrayal, hate, death, loneliness? Impossible!
Most of the candles in the cave had burned down. Jebel had been replacing the dead candles from a stash in one of the walls, but he had made up his mind not to fetch any more when the current batch flickered out. When the last was quenched, he would live as a shadow in a world without light.
Jebel might have remained in the caves until the end of his days, a silent, lost hermit, except fate hadn’t finished with him. One day, after a dark, timeless age, he heard somebody coming. The person was moving quietly, but Jebel’s ears were attuned to silence, and he could have heard a spider scuttling.
Jebel positioned himself in a pitch-black tunnel and watched as a man with a candle entered the cave. Jebel knew the man, but he didn’t want to call out. If he did, he would be dragged back into the real world. It was safer to squat here in the darkness, let the man leave, and hide in the abandoned caves forever.
The man explored the cave, then climbed into one of the tunnels that led to the surface. Jebel wanted to let him go but was afraid the man might wander too close to the cliff, drawn by the spectacle of Bush and Blair. So he reluctantly broke his silence and spoke up.
“Tel Hesani.”
The Um Kheshabah whirled around. When the boy stepped forward, Tel Hesani’s face twitched with fear. “
“No,” Jebel said, squinting as he moved into the light.
Tel Hesani stared at Jebel with disbelief, then broke into an incredulous grin. “Jebel Rum!” he roared, rushing forward and embracing the boy. “I thought you were dead. I’ve been searching the banks for your body.” He let go and took a step back, gazing at Jebel with wonder. “How did you survive?”
“I hitched a ride,” Jebel said softly.
Tel Hesani frowned. “With whom?”
“Death.”
Tel Hesani didn’t know how to respond to that. While he was searching for words, Jebel pointed at the ceiling. “Bush and Blair are up top.”
The Um Kheshabah’s lips curled. “Those fiends! I had a feeling we weren’t finished with them. Lead me to the monsters, and I’ll—”
“They’re dead,” said Jebel. “I tricked them and sacrificed them to the rock spirits. They’re trapped in the cliff now. They can’t ever leave.”
Tel Hesani blinked and shook his head. “Wonder heaped upon wonder.” He studied Jebel and saw the emptiness in the boy’s eyes, his stooped shoulders and distant expression. “You’ve been here alone all this time?”
“How long has it been?” Jebel replied without much interest.
“Nearly three weeks,” said Tel Hesani, sitting and gently tugging Jebel down beside him. “I fled after you fell into the as-Sudat. I found shelter, slept as best I could, then headed downriver to search for your body but also to come here. I knew I would be safe if I found my way back to Hamata. I could hole up for the rest of the winter, then sail back to Wadi in the spring and try to save the lives of my family.”
“It mustn’t have been easy, surviving out there,” Jebel remarked.
“It wasn’t,” Tel Hesani said softly. He was thinner than ever. He had aged fifteen years and didn’t carry himself as straight as he once did. He could have told Jebel of his recent trials, digging through the snow to find frozen berries, fighting off wolves to feast on the corpse of a deer, sleeping inside its carcass for warmth, fleeing from a bear. But he didn’t want to burden Jebel, as he felt the boy had suffered enough himself. “When do you want to leave?” he said instead.
The question took Jebel by surprise. “Leave?” he echoed.
“For Tubaygat. There’s still time. It will take a couple of months, but we might make it if luck is with us.”
“You want to go to Tubaygat?” Jebel asked stupidly. He had given up on the quest and barely thought of it recently. On the few occasions that he had, it struck him as the foolish fancy of a child who had known nothing of the world. “Why?”
“
“But it’s too late. I’m weary. It was a crazy quest. Forget about them. We’ll stay here and—”
Tel Hesani slapped Jebel sharply. Jebel gaped at him, slack-jawed. Tel Hesani slapped him again. He was raising his hand a third time, when Jebel’s face filled with fury and he pushed himself away.
“What are you doing?” he screamed. “You can’t slap me! You’re a slave! I’ll have you whipped and executed for this!”
“That’s more like it,” Tel Hesani chuckled. “I knew I’d find the old Jebel Rum somewhere within that shell.”
Jebel rubbed his cheek, staring wide-eyed at Tel Hesani. “You slapped me.”
“I had to.” He gripped Jebel’s hands. “We’ve both suffered more than anyone ever should, but we can’t let it break us. We have to go on. I must save my family, and you need to restore your honor.”
“I don’t care about that anymore,” Jebel said. “It seems foolish now. What does honor matter in this world of villains and pain?”
“You won’t think that way when you’re back in Wadi, an executioner, respected by everyone, loved by your father, wed to a beautiful maid.”
Jebel shook his head. “I don’t know. I was… I wouldn’t say happy exactly… but content. I…”
He stopped, realizing he sounded just like Bush and Blair. He trembled, remembering their gruesome end, then wondered if their spirits were taking him over.
“All right,” Jebel said in a rush, sweating at the thought that the ghosts of the dead Masters might appear. “Let’s go to Tubaygat and finish what we started. I don’t care anymore, but we’ll do it if you want. I’m ready.”
“Easy,” Tel Hesani said as Jebel jumped to his feet. “The way north is long and hard. We need to stock up on
