yawned and let her gaze drift to a row of jars and bottles lining the far wall. Were those squiggles dead sand-racer snakes? Her lips fell open in disgust. “Erkh. Did you see what’s in those jars?” In another jar, she was sure she could pick out the tips of the tails of mountain scorpions squished together. “Erkh,” she repeated. “This place gives me the shivers. Let’s get out as soon as we can.”
She heard Zobaida before Sager could respond. From the darkness the healer appeared, shuffling in on her bottom from a doorway that led into another room they had not seen. Her clothes rustled and there was a clicking sound from a mysterious necklace. She settled cross-legged in front of them like a dark queen about to attend to the woes of her subjects. With her head tilted to one side and her eyes half-closed, she waited.
Sager cleared his throat and said, “Your son brought us here.”
“Yes, but you were coming to see me anyway, weren’t you?” Her raspy voice flowed like a lethargic current.
“We were, but now there’s no point. We can’t pay you.”
“Yes, because that rascal stole your honey.”
What witch-blood ran in Zobaida’s veins that she should know so much? Noora’s head pulsed with the thought just as Zobaida shifted and stretched her legs. The beam of light from the doorway fell on her chest, on the source of the clicking sound. That was no mysterious necklace! It was her talismans, dangling from loops sewn to the edges of her shayla . Noora scrunched her nose at the teeth, claws, shells, and tiny bundles of cloth. She did not want to know what was in them.
Zobaida swiveled her head, and Noora dropped her gaze, only to be startled by Zobaida’s deformed feet. From the ankles down, they curved into crescents that had none of the beauty of the moon.
“You know, my mother tried to straighten them when I was small, but it didn’t work,” Zobaida said, and snapped open her eyes. Both her seeing, black eye and her blind, blue eye joined in an intense stare at Noora. “She would pin me down with her knees and place heavy rocks on my feet. How it hurt!”
Noora felt the heat rise to her face. “I didn’t mean to…”
“Never mind all that,” Zobaida said. “ Masha’ Allah , you have done a good thing today. You are the first people ever to defend my son.” She sighed and clicked her tongue. “So helpless, life hasn’t been kind to him, giving him a tongue that moves without purpose and ears that can’t catch the sound of the wind.”
Sager muttered something about only doing what was right when she silenced him with a raised arm.
“No! What you did was something special. Dur-Mamad is my only son—as valuable to me as my liver. Even his father wouldn’t have stood up for him the way you did. He abandoned us, you know, when Dur-Mamad was just a toddler.” A growl crawled at the back of her throat, and she raised one of the clinging teeth to her mouth and blew a whisper over it. “To Moosa, you scoundrel, wherever you may be. May this tooth blunt your vanity and make you feel no better than a filthy dog.” Then she burped and slackened her eyelids. “Now, how can I help you?”
Noora and Sager were too stunned to speak. And for a while, the only sound that filled the hut was their muffled breathing.
“Well?”
Sager coughed and released their predicament in a rattle of words.
“Yes, I understand.” Zobaida nodded. “You have your home, but it’s no fortress of safety now that your father has become mad.” She had turned serene, almost motherly.
“We don’t know what to do,” Sager confessed.
“I can make you a potion, insha’ Allah , that will make him gentle. But the madness will always be there, this you must understand.” And with that, she pulled out two stones from behind her back and clapped them together.
The board slid open. Light poured in, and Dur-Mamad hopped into the hut. Had he heard or felt her call? Noora did not have time to mull it
She heard Zobaida before Sager could respond. From the darkness the healer appeared, shuffling in on her bottom from a doorway that led into another room they had not seen. Her clothes rustled and there was a clicking sound from a mysterious necklace. She settled cross-legged in front of them like a dark queen about to attend to the woes of her subjects. With her head tilted to one side and her eyes half-closed, she waited.
Sager cleared his throat and said, “Your son brought us here.”
“Yes, but you were coming to see me anyway, weren’t you?” Her raspy voice flowed like a lethargic current.
“We were, but now there’s no point. We can’t pay you.”
“Yes, because that rascal stole your honey.”
What witch-blood ran in Zobaida’s veins that she should know so much? Noora’s head pulsed with the thought just as Zobaida shifted and stretched her legs. The beam of light from the doorway fell on her chest, on the source of the clicking sound. That was no mysterious necklace! It was her talismans, dangling from loops sewn to the edges of her shayla . Noora scrunched her nose at the teeth, claws, shells, and tiny bundles of cloth. She did not want to know what was in them.
Zobaida swiveled her head, and Noora dropped her gaze, only to be startled by Zobaida’s deformed feet. From the ankles down, they curved into crescents that had none of the beauty of the moon.
“You know, my mother tried to straighten them when I was small, but it didn’t work,” Zobaida said, and snapped open her eyes. Both her seeing, black eye and her blind, blue eye joined in an intense stare at Noora. “She would pin me down with her knees and place heavy rocks on my feet. How it hurt!”
Noora felt the heat rise to her face. “I didn’t mean to…”
“Never mind all that,” Zobaida said. “ Masha’ Allah , you have done a good thing today. You are the first people ever to defend my son.” She sighed and clicked her tongue. “So helpless, life hasn’t been kind to him, giving him a tongue that moves without purpose and ears that can’t catch the sound of the wind.”
Sager muttered something about only doing what was right when she silenced him with a raised arm.
“No! What you did was something special. Dur-Mamad is my only son—as valuable to me as my liver. Even his father wouldn’t have stood up for him the way you did. He abandoned us, you know, when Dur-Mamad was just a toddler.” A growl crawled at the back of her throat, and she raised one of the clinging teeth to her mouth and blew a whisper over it. “To Moosa, you scoundrel, wherever you may be. May this tooth blunt your vanity and make you feel no better than a filthy dog.” Then she burped and slackened her eyelids. “Now, how can I help you?”
Noora and Sager were too stunned to speak. And for a while, the only sound that filled the hut was their muffled breathing.
“Well?”
Sager coughed and released their predicament in a rattle of words.
“Yes, I understand.” Zobaida nodded. “You have your home, but it’s no fortress of safety now that your father has become mad.” She had turned serene, almost motherly.
“We don’t know what to do,” Sager confessed.
“I can make you a potion, insha’ Allah , that will make him gentle. But the madness will always be there, this you must understand.” And with that, she pulled out two stones from behind her back and clapped them together.
The board slid open. Light poured in, and Dur-Mamad hopped into the hut. Had he heard or felt her call? Noora did not have time to mull it
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