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Authors: Gina nahai
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the children onto them to skewer their bodies like beasts. Then they slaughtered the older people. Those who had hidden in their basements were locked in and their houses were set on fire. Those who wore gold around their wrists and necks had it carved out of their bodies. Those who begged for mercy had their tongues cut off. For days the mob returned, searching every house and every temple, looting the shops, beating the men, raping the women.
In Qamar's house, the mob had killed everyone else. She threw herself on the ground and feigned death. Twice the mob came back to search the house for survivors. Qamar pulled her sister's corpse over herself and held her breath until they were gone. One night, when she thought the pogrom had ended, she escaped. In the streets, corpses lay frozen in the winter air. In the main square, the last of the surviving children died in the field of daggers. In the gutters, rainwater would forever run the color of blood. Never again in the history of Persia would even a single Jew live among the people of Tabriz.
Qamar the Gypsy had traveled east, toward Rasht, on the Caspian Coast. She crossed the mountains around Tabriz,
climbing high on treacherous roads where only bandits dared travel, across valleys so deep they swallowed entire caravans. Around Rasht the jungles were lush and dense, alive with the smell of sweet rain, roaring with the cries of panthers and leopards. Beyond them, in the flatland bordering the Caspian Sea, were the rice fields—light green and gold and silver at dawn. She stopped. She had heard the voice of Esther the Soothsayer.
“There is a boy in Juyy Bar with agate eyes," Esther said. “Find him. Give him children of light and laughter."
Qamar the Gypsy found her way to Tehran, and then to the holy city of Qom, where the greatest of mullahs received religious training. There she met a caravan of pilgrims and followed them south. The pilgrims were mostly poor men, traveling on foot or riding emaciated camels and donkeys. On their backs they each carried a large canvas bag with the remains of a relative or friend who had asked to be buried in the holy Muslim cities of Najaf and Karbala. There were shrines in those cities—consecrated places where for centuries the dead had been buried. They were placed tier on tier upon each other—to wait for the day when Allah would descend to earth and carry them all to heaven.
Qamar the Gypsy followed the pilgrims from a great distance. They were men on a holy mission and would not allow the presence of a Jew to spoil the purity of their vows. They walked in the early morning and late afternoon, resting at midday when the sun was too hot, and at night when the desert froze. Afraid to be seen by them, Qamar hid all day, and followed their trail in moonlight, guided by the sound of camel bells and the voice of Esther the Soothsayer. Even then she could smell the corpses that the pilgrims carried in their sacks. The laws of Persia and the Ottoman Empire required that bodies be buried for a year before being transported, to reduce the danger of spreading plague. But in the land of Islam, only the law of God was observed. The men carried the corpses fresh. To keep them clean, the pilgrims washed them in streams and rivers where others drank. To contain the smell of rot, they placed green apples in the sacks. They stopped in every village to buy new apples, and gave the old ones to beggar children who bit into them gratefully.
Noah the Gold whistled in the dark. He stood outside the teahouse late at night after his customers were gone, and whistled a tune he heard inside his head. The neighbors were terrified.
“Stop that sound," they screamed. “The ghosts of darkness will hear your tune and come to strangle us all."
Noah the Gold knew about the demons who responded to whistles in the dark. Still, the tune in his head was clear and compelling, and he whistled it until he had summoned Qamar the Gypsy.
She was small and thin,
In Qamar's house, the mob had killed everyone else. She threw herself on the ground and feigned death. Twice the mob came back to search the house for survivors. Qamar pulled her sister's corpse over herself and held her breath until they were gone. One night, when she thought the pogrom had ended, she escaped. In the streets, corpses lay frozen in the winter air. In the main square, the last of the surviving children died in the field of daggers. In the gutters, rainwater would forever run the color of blood. Never again in the history of Persia would even a single Jew live among the people of Tabriz.
Qamar the Gypsy had traveled east, toward Rasht, on the Caspian Coast. She crossed the mountains around Tabriz,
climbing high on treacherous roads where only bandits dared travel, across valleys so deep they swallowed entire caravans. Around Rasht the jungles were lush and dense, alive with the smell of sweet rain, roaring with the cries of panthers and leopards. Beyond them, in the flatland bordering the Caspian Sea, were the rice fields—light green and gold and silver at dawn. She stopped. She had heard the voice of Esther the Soothsayer.
“There is a boy in Juyy Bar with agate eyes," Esther said. “Find him. Give him children of light and laughter."
Qamar the Gypsy found her way to Tehran, and then to the holy city of Qom, where the greatest of mullahs received religious training. There she met a caravan of pilgrims and followed them south. The pilgrims were mostly poor men, traveling on foot or riding emaciated camels and donkeys. On their backs they each carried a large canvas bag with the remains of a relative or friend who had asked to be buried in the holy Muslim cities of Najaf and Karbala. There were shrines in those cities—consecrated places where for centuries the dead had been buried. They were placed tier on tier upon each other—to wait for the day when Allah would descend to earth and carry them all to heaven.
Qamar the Gypsy followed the pilgrims from a great distance. They were men on a holy mission and would not allow the presence of a Jew to spoil the purity of their vows. They walked in the early morning and late afternoon, resting at midday when the sun was too hot, and at night when the desert froze. Afraid to be seen by them, Qamar hid all day, and followed their trail in moonlight, guided by the sound of camel bells and the voice of Esther the Soothsayer. Even then she could smell the corpses that the pilgrims carried in their sacks. The laws of Persia and the Ottoman Empire required that bodies be buried for a year before being transported, to reduce the danger of spreading plague. But in the land of Islam, only the law of God was observed. The men carried the corpses fresh. To keep them clean, the pilgrims washed them in streams and rivers where others drank. To contain the smell of rot, they placed green apples in the sacks. They stopped in every village to buy new apples, and gave the old ones to beggar children who bit into them gratefully.
Noah the Gold whistled in the dark. He stood outside the teahouse late at night after his customers were gone, and whistled a tune he heard inside his head. The neighbors were terrified.
“Stop that sound," they screamed. “The ghosts of darkness will hear your tune and come to strangle us all."
Noah the Gold knew about the demons who responded to whistles in the dark. Still, the tune in his head was clear and compelling, and he whistled it until he had summoned Qamar the Gypsy.
She was small and thin,
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