The rolling dunes of the desert fanned out in waves towards the horizon. As night fell, the desert grew cold beneath the full moon. A solitary figure riding a camel crested a high dune. Both the great translucent beast and its master glowed with pale silver auras. The rider halted his mount at the dune's summit, looking out over the rolling desert sea.
A blanket of bright stars shone down through the scattered cloud cover hanging high above the dunes. Leaving no tracks, Mithras had ridden through the desert for the last five days and nights searching for any sign of the Jinn. He knew this was their domain and he would eventually pick up their trail. Re-reading the list of names on the parchment he began to reconsider his decision. He needed to formulate a plan of attack. In truth he was more than daunted at the prospect of approaching some candidates on the list. They were an assortment of sprites and fairies, imps, wisps and leprechauns. That wouldn't be too bad, Mithras thought. A scattered range of nightmares and dream stalkers, shadow people, phantoms and poltergeists helped fill the lines of the scroll's seemingly exhaustive list. One of the spirits was from the multitude of crones, the nightmare pattern of spirits Adimus had unleashed on the dreams of the world to stalk souls in their sleep. The brown crone, her visions brought nothing but fear. She was the huntress, a stalking hag lurking in the shadows, waiting for those drifting through the mists of dream. Hers were the sheet-soaking night terrors leaving those suddenly awoken, with hearts pounding, unable to return to sleep.
Written in Raziel's delicate scrolling hand was the name of the crone's master. The thought of Admius chilled Mithras. He pictured the giant black wings of night opening before him. Were Azrael and Raziel really prepared to compromise the Outcasts' ranks for the sake of affecting the balancing?
In the distance he saw the twinkling glow of a campfire. Since the beginning of his journey this was the first sign of anything the Watcher had seen other than the hardy life of a silent desert. It was a trail, what manner of trail Mithras did not know, but he would soon. "What'd you say, Mercury? Shall we pay them a visit?" Mithras asked his ghostmount.
The camel groaned back, spurring itself towards the distant light.
Assembled around the fire was a Bedouin family enjoying the night air, smoking from a large hookah and telling stories. There were four children, three boys and an elder daughter. Sitting next to his wife, the husband drew smoke from a nib at the end of the hookah's long hose. The family was laughing at a shared joke when one of their camels grunted.
Beyond the animals and the family's tents, Mithras appeared out of the shadows. Leading his camel by the reigns, The Bull God saw the faces of two youngest boys. They were afraid of him. The eldest boy, nearly a man, looked to the swords laying on the rug between him and his father. Mithras saw the boy stilled by a wave of his father's hand. The eldest daughter and mother whispered between themselves as he approached the campfire.
Stepping into the light and warmth of the fire he pulled the folds of his white kufiyya away from his mouth. Standing beside the fire, Mithras held his arms and robes open so the family saw his face. He smiled, touching a hand to his forehead in greeting. "Salam, friend. I have been travelling through the desert for many days."
"Salam. My name is Owdah and this is my family. We have been in this desert for some time ourselves. Please, join us by the fire. I would offer you my family's hospitality."
"Many thanks Owdah, to you and your family. I will not forget this kindness you show me," The Watcher replied. "I'll be happy to join your campfire. I am eager to hear any stories or news you might have. Respectfully, all I require is the firelight and your company. My needs are humble."
"Very well friend," Owdah agreed. "Tell us your name and you may enjoy the fire until it goes out, or sleep ends our stories."
"I have many names, but Mithras is my favourite." The Bull God said and settled himself down into a cross-legged squat beside the fire. The folds of his kufiyya hung over his broad shoulders, framing the dark complexion and heavy eyebrows of his weathered, jolly face. He rested his hands on jalabiyya covered knees and smiled.
"Welcome." Owdah said. Mithras nodded in reply and listened to the old Bedouin introduce his family. The children asked questions about where he came from and where he was going. Owdah shushed them, chuckling. He apologized to Mithras. Their zeal, he explained, came from being unaccustomed to company at their fireside. "Who are your people?" The Bedu father asked.
"I suppose they were Halaf," The watcher replied.
"I know of these people." The father mused, scratching his beard. "They were an ancient people. From the north? I have heard stories only, but never met anyone claiming to be Halaf." Owdah asked a few more delicate, probing questions. Answering, Mithras was polite, funny and incredibly vague in his reply. The family soon discovered he was a traveller and they could detect his choice to remain polite and mysterious. This is all we need to know, Mithras heard them think as a collective.
The family's stories made Mithras laugh. The two youngest boys, Ali and Zia made the different voices and more importantly, the sounds, as they told a story about a camel with gas scaring away the other animals at an oasis. Their mother scolded them for such vulgarity but was laughing along just as hard as everyone else.
The eldest daughter talked about her love, far away in another desert. She spoke with such love and sadness; Mithras knew she had not seen the young man for quite some time. The father didn't approve of the story. Owdah muttered how the boy didn't have enough of a trade to marry her.
"A trade is important. Surely one would come with work and dedication." Mithras opined. "These things take time, like a date tree. Once planted, only time, water and sun will yield its bounty. All things are put here for us through love. Without water and sun, time wouldn't matter. There would be no tree, no fruit. Love builds such things. Love is more important than trade." Mithras feared immediately that he had said too much. It was not polite to reprimand a host in front of his family. "Merely the opinion of a traveller," Mithras said, then laughed. "What would I know about roots?"
His laughter hid the deep pang of sadness he felt. He was enjoying their company very much. He loved being on the world for moments like these, close family moments. He had forgotten what it felt like. Struck by the thought, Mithras admitted to himself that by being alone in the high places of the world he couldn't see moments like these. They were lost in the ground clutter.
He knew he went into hiding because he didn't want to be reminded of times spent like these, so very long ago with his own family. He knew the daughter's sadness, it was as his own, keeping him from such warmth. Mithras missed love. Why had he punished himself for so long? He succeeded where Rabdos had failed. The Bull God had the quiet realization that he had made his existence a hell, long after Rabdos had ripped it apart.
The story the elder son told next was about a strange day in the life of the family. His eyes were dark, brooding with the annoyance and rebellion of adolescence. His voice was firm, but Mithras heard the trembles of emotion hidden in the words of the boy's story. "I remember a day, one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. Never since have I known a better sunrise, bluer sky, or whiter cloud. I have never tasted better food or drank cooler water. That night, the sun painted the sky with reds and oranges like this fire." The eldest son said. His eyes twinkled and Mithras knew the boy spoke from his heart. There was magic in his words. "When the stars came there were more than I had ever seen before. I wanted to enjoy every last moment, so I chose to sleep outside by the fire for as long as I could. Drifting off to sleep I thought I saw the stars disappearing one by one, as though a blanket was pulled over the sky itself. I tried focusing on them, but my eyes were so heavy." The boy told Mithras. "When I woke the next morning, I was laying on the sand. My blankets had disappeared and the campfire was gone. I jumped to my feet in surprise. The tents were gone and I saw my family, all sleeping on the sand as well. Only our camels were still with us, they watched me wake everyone. I was alarmed, not just because everything was gone, but because the desert had changed. We were somewhere different than where we had camped." The boy asked Mithras, "Isn't that odd?"
"I see you have replaced everything that was lost." The Bull God answered, gesturing towards their tents and possessions.
"That's the strange part of the story my son has not told you," Owdah said. "We have been travelling in this desert ever since. We began finding our possessions again soon enough, scattered throughout the sands. A rolled up tent here, my hookah there, our bedding even, it all began reappearing every few days. We have found everything we lost."
"Yet you travel still?" Mithras asked.
"It is our way," Owdah answered. "And we have each other, most importantly. Do you have a family?"
"I did, once."
"Tell us about them, please?" The eldest daughter asked.
Mithras bit his lip and shook his head. "No. I will tell you about something that happened to me a few nights ago instead." He leant toward the family and spoke in a low voice. "A friend of mine asked me to find some people. Shortly after I began my journey, I was crossing the desert on a day much like any other. Not an exceptionally beautiful day like the one your son described, but a beautiful day nonetheless." Mithras smiled, nodding to the son, who beamed at the acknowledgement of his story. "When night fell, this was four evenings ago, I was still riding by the light of the moon when horrible screams cried out from the sand itself. The screams grew louder, more pained and soon I too felt pain. A burning, awful pain, an agony. Both my mount and myself collapsed. The screams died away some minutes later, but it felt as though the longest, hardest of years had passed. I have not heard them since. I fear something horrible has happened."
Owdah nodded his head. "We too have heard and felt what you describe."
"Have you heard the laughter?" The eldest son blurted out.
"What laughter?" Mithras asked.
Owdah's face was stern, "Forgive my son, he suffers from the impetuous vice of being a young man. Perhaps our guest did not wish to hear about silly laughter."
"I would actually, very much." Mithras interrupted.
"The laughing began the next night." Owdah explained. "Judging by nights previous, I expect it to begin again soon."
"From which direction did you arrive here?" Mithras asked.
Owdah pointed, it was the direction the Bull God had been travelling towards. "It is the laughter of a predator." The Bedouin warned. "The Jinn still roam these sands and they are most pleased about something. I would avoid travelling any further this night."
"I've heard they eat the souls of people lost in the desert." The eldest son said.
"I'm not worried about the Jinn. Neither should you," Mithras replied. "I thank you for the warning."
The old father, wanting to steer the conversation away from the subject of Jinns, asked his guest. "Who are these people you seek?"
"They are friends I hope they will lead me towards a great treasure." Mithras said.
"Then I pray you find them and wish you fortune." Owdah said.
"In your travels, have you crossed the paths of two sorcerers? Strange men who play tricks on travellers?" The watcher asked.
"You are the first soul we have seen since we lost our tents." The eldest son said. His sister burst into tears and had to be comforted by her mother.
"I understand." Mithras said just as the screams and laughter Owdah spoke of shredded the once silent desert night. The banshee screams and snivelling laughs echoed across the dunes. Mithras heard the laughter's purpose. It mocked the world and all life. These particular Jinn were very happy about whatever happened days ago, the Watcher was certain of that. He had found their trail. It was only a matter of time before he found them.
"Jinn." Owdah observed with genuine fear in his voice. "They sound like jackals and they're just as hungry."
"Owdah, I must thank you and your kind family for your hospitality."
"You're leaving?" The eldest daughter asked.
"Surely you'll wait until morning with the Jinn out there?" Owdah protested.
"No, thank you. I must continue my journey." Mithras' voice was firm.
"I wish you would stay for awhile, perhaps until you have had the chance to speak with my daughter, she is of age and would make a fine wife."
"I thank you again for thinking of me, but I told you I had a family once. I am already married." Mithras's answer was polite and firm. "Thank you Owdah, it was a pleasure to meet you and your family. If I may return the favour, look for an oasis neither north nor south of your camp. You will find it neither east, nor west but somewhere in between." Mithras said, gathering up the folded swath of his jalabiyya and stood. "When you find it, the oasis will have three tall palms on either side and the water can be crossed. Take your family to that place, cross over the water and you shall find a pleasant land like none you have seen in your journeys."
"Salam, we will look for it." Owdah said.
Mithras touched his forehead again and bowed. "Salam."
Leaving Owdah and his family, Mithras urged Mercury to follow the trail of laughter. Riding back into the dunes he listened to the cries of the Jinn cascading over the dark sandy sea. He was thankful for his time with the Bedu family. They gave their hospitality respectfully as true Bedouin. Mithras knew they were people of a different age when Owdah said he knew of the Halaf, the people of Mithras's family. The eldest son's story had confirmed the family were ghosts. Their camel train must have been overwhelmed by a vicious sandstorm hundreds of years before. They had wandered the land since then, unaware. Somehow, they even found the phantom remains of all their possessions. Mithras knew such manifestations were rare. The sad part of the story was that the family would never find what they were subconsciously looking for, their bodies. The Watcher knew they would find the oasis he described. The pull of the spiral would grasp them and then they would find peace from their wanderings.
Mithras rode his faithful mount deeper into the desert, chasing the laughing screams on the air. The dunes became a blur beneath Mercury's hooves as the camel sped onwards like a lightning bolt under the full moon. The laughter died down after the sun rose. When Mithras caught up with the Jinn, they were gathered against the sheer cliff walls on a narrow band of broken ground. Three long twisting fingers of sand hovered together like miniature funnel clouds, spinning in place. Waiting for him, they knew he was there just as he had felt their windy presence.
Mithras's approach was careful, deliberate. He rode Mercury down the dune slow, avoiding anything threatening. The Jinn waited, swirling in silence by the cliff's face. Mithras dismounted at the base of the dune. Leaving Mercury behind, he walked towards the cliffs.
When the Watcher reached them, one of the Jinns floated forwards. "What do you want here, old god?" A screeching voice asked. Out of the sands of the whirling spout of its projection, an outline appeared. Features followed, moulding into an oblong humanoid face pressed against the sand from within. The wide oval black eyes of the sandy face opened. They blinked as the Jinn said, "We don't meet with Watchers."
"Your friends may not, but you owe me a debt. You'll meet with me reagardless. Right, Mareeken?"
"What do you want?" The Jinn returned to his first question.
"I'm looking for information."
"What would I know?" Mareeken screeched.
"The Jinn know the desert, few pass without your knowledge."
"Who are you looking for?" The Jinn's sandy mouth asked.
"Jannes and Jambres."
"Those two meddling meat puppets? Three's a crowd I would think. What would three tricksters be doing together?" Mareeken asked.
"My business with them is none of your affair."
"I suppose you'll be looking for something to stop the escapees?"
"What escapees?" Mithras asked.
"He doesn't know! You really do need help. There's been another storm in Heaven, and the storm is coming here." The Jinn said with mirth. "Tartarus is no more, all the prisoners have escaped."
"That was what I felt," Mithras realized. "That's why you've been laughing."
"So, what if we have?" Mareeken snarled. "I can't wait to see what they'll do to the world. Don't tell me humanity doesn't deserve a good purging. Humanity is too complex. They make the desert bloom and seas die. What does it matter if they end up skewered by the storm? They destroy the world they live in, so why shouldn't they be destroyed?"
"Because they're the marker for the exploration and life deserves every chance it can get."
"Are we not also alive? Where's our handout?" Mareeken keened. His two companions screeched banshee howls in agreement.
"We weren't chosen to live like the souls." Mithras answered. "We have our own purposes and chances. If you Jinns just don't like the structure of that, I understand."
"You don't understand anything." Mareeken shrieked.
"I saved you from an Angel of Wrath about to hurl you into the Hells. I'll take repayment of that favour now."
"Name your price, I'll be glad to be rid of the debt." The Jinn snarled.
"You're going to tell me where Jannes and Jambres are. Then, I want to hear everything you know about the Tabula smaragdina, especially where I might find it."
"You seek the Emerald Tablet! That's why you want the two tricksters." The Jinn said. "Well this changes things, old god. I'll tell you the answer to one of those questions and then you'll leave."
"Nice try. You'll tell me everything."
"I will not." The Jinn said. "As I recall, there was only one Angel. One Malakite scum equals one question answered. If there were two Angels I'd answer both."
Mithras relaxed his hands, uncurling his balled fists. "Play your games Jinn, it doesn't matter to me. I'll get everything I'm looking for one way or the other. A treasure can easily be found, friends are not. Tell me where Jannes and Jambres are."
"How touching, and overtly human," Mareeken hissed. "You and your kind are such a disappointment. Your two wretches are east of here on the other side of this desert. They have been hiding in a small fishing village by the sea."
"Where are they in the town?" Mithras asked.
"I would assume in a tavern." Mareeken replied. "That's the last place I knew them to be. This makes us even. It's time for you to leave now." The Jinn's voice was cold and hard.
The other two Jinns, darkening, spun with whirwind fury. Floating over to join Mareeken, they hovered on either side of their fellow, screeching at Mithras. "Leave this desert now!"
"Take the meat puppets with you, they're no longer welcome in our lands." Mareeken added.
"We're even." Mithras said, backing away. As he collected the waiting Mercury at the nearby dune, he never turned his back on the Jinn. The Bull God swung himself up into the saddle and told Mercury their destination. The ghostmount rose to its feet, grunting.
The three Jinns watched Mithras ride away. When the Watcher vanished into the dunes, Mareeken's face fell back into the whirling sand of its twisting funnel and hissed, "I'd tell you to stay out of trouble, old god, but I think you've already found it. That's very unfortunate." The Jinn shrieked and sped into the desert, followed by his two companions.