Jasper nearly skidded to a halt as a strange scene unrolled before him. It was like something out of one of those absurd, utterly nonsensical dreams, the sort of dream where you find yourself back in college, manning the registers in a retail store with your best friend, a flying turtle, and somehow never think to question it.
A large deer stood in the hall, its legs spread over an oddly shaped bundle of white and red that Jasper realized belatedly was a corpse. The deer’s metallic horns and hooves were slick with blood and beside it, with one paw gently stroking the deer’s back, stood…some sort of weretiger? Still mostly human save for the mottled patches of fur that covered his skin and the two giant paws that were formerly his hand, it took a moment for Jasper to recognize his overly-enthusiastic sparring partner. What the hell is going on?
The deer rushed forward to greet him, gently nudging its bloodied antlers against his chest like a horse begging for sugar cubes. He rubbed its head uncertainly, trying not to cringe at the spattered gore that painted its fur and antlers. “Uh, Ihra?”
Abnu limped over to him. “Your elf is truly a match worthy of you, my lord. I had no idea she was powerful enough to shapeshift.”
The deer’s head whipped around, and despite her inability to vocalize, her glare spoke volumes. The Djinn raised his paws placatingly. “My apologies, Lady Ihra, I misspoke. I meant no offense in referring to you as ‘his’ elf.”
Jasper scratched his ear awkwardly, struggling to piece the situation together as he bent down to examine the mangled corpse.“Is this the Keeper?”
Abnu nodded. “Lady Hayil attacked us and we were forced to defend ourselves. She must have been on to me. I cannot say it was unexpected, but I had hoped for a different outcome.”
Damn, grandma really did get run over by a reindeer. But something Abnu said caught his attention. “Wait - you said she was on to you? What are you talking about? Why are you even here?” Jasper leaned forward, squinting up at the massive Djinn, as an almost forgotten incident sprang to the forefront of his mind. “Wait a minute…the tiger in the jungle…are you a seraph?”
The giant Djinn shrugged, waving a half-paw up and down and his body. “Are you just now figuring this out? Surely my size was a dead giveaway.” He stuffed his paws into his bag, struggling to pull something out. One of his claws got caught on the edge of the pack, but after a moment of thrashing, he succeeded in pulling it out, holding a small bottle out to Jasper. “Any chance you can pop this open for me? My paws have a serious lack of thumbs.”
Jasper grabbed the healing potion, twisting off the cap. The still partially transformed Djinn leaned backward letting Jasper pour it down his throat.
He was startled, though, when a strangled bleat echoed behind him, followed by the sound of flesh hitting the pavement. Whipping around, he saw Ihra sprawled across the ground in a tangle of limbs, and ran over to her.
“You all right?” he asked, helping her sit up. Ihra moved slowly, as if in a daze, her eyes still half-glazed over. “That was the strangest feeling ever.” He could feel a shudder run down her back as her gaze fell on the Keeper’s mangled body. “Selene’s grace,” she cursed. “Did I really skewer somebody with my…antlers?” He patted her back sympathetically, leaping back with a muttered curse when a second later she bent over and vomited.
When her stomach was cleared, he helped her over to a bench carved into the walls, and she leaned back, closing her eyes from the sight. He hesitated a moment, his eyes darting back and forth between the corpse and the corridor, half expecting at any moment for the rest of the temple to come swarming out to investigate the racket. Where the hell is everyone? But no one appeared, and after a few tense moments, he looked back up at Ihra. “So…what exactly happened here?”
Abnu butted in, answering for Ihra. “The Keeper attacked us - I assumed because of me, but now I’m not so sure; it seems you and your elven friend had some business with the Keeper as well?” he continued, in a questioning tone.
Jasper frowned. “Wait, so you weren’t here because of me? Once I realized you were a seraph…” He trailed off, suddenly feeling embarrassed. As soon as he had realized Abnu was a seraph, he’d just assumed that the seraph, who kept hovering around him, was somehow there because of him - either due to his fictional background as a bastard prince with a seraph father or his strange encounter with the shapeshifting seraph in the jungles of Sapīya.
But Abnu stared back at him with a genuine expression of confusion. “Why would I be interested in you?” The giant Djinn questioned, cocking his head to the side.
Jasper’s ruddy cheeks hid his blush as he shook his head. “Err - never mind. Forget I said that. So why are you here then?”
Abnu hesitated, clearly debating whether to respond, but his gaze shifted to Ihra, who was still leaning against the wall half-dazed. “Your friend has earned the right to a few questions,” he finally said. “I belong to the Namurru clan,” he said, puffing his chest out proudly. A moment later he look a little deflated as he saw Jasper’s questioning look. “I am surprised you do not know of us. We are…I guess you could call us troubleshooters.”
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Jasper raised an eyebrow at the use of the strangely modern-sounding term, but didn’t comment on it. “And what trouble were you shooting here?”
“The seraphs have a long history of joining the cult of Nahrēmah. We enjoy fighting and have a physical advantage over most Djinn so,” he shrugged, “it’s no surprise that many of our youth join its ranks for a few years.”
“But?”
“In the last few years, some of our kin in the cult have gone missing. It’s not exactly unheard of for our young to be seized by wanderlust and take off for a few years so, at first, it went unnoticed, but as the years stretched on and they still didn’t return, questions started to be asked.”
He hung his head in shame. “It took us far too long to recognize the pattern. The Namurru are supposed to protect the other clans, but we failed. Looking back, we now believe that the cult may have been preying on members of our clans for several decades, but the numbers taken were low enough that we didn’t notice until the number of missing rose over the last few years.”
“So they’re targeting seraphs specifically?” Jasper asked.
Abnu shrugged, rolling his shoulders. “Who knows? The Namurru are only concerned with the seraphs; we do not keep records of other Djinn, although I see no reason to assume that we have been singled out.” He waved his hand toward the long, silent corridor. “Surely you’ve noticed how empty this temple is; a few decades ago, all these rooms would have been filled. We have very few answers currently, but we have reason to believe that some or all of the cult may have been coopted into the worship of a dark goddess.” His face darkened like a tempest. “I fear our missing brethren have been sacrificed.”
“You mean the brotherhood of Yasgah?”
The Djinn’s brows shot through the ceiling. “I am, although I’m surprised to hear that name from your lips.” His gaze sharpened as he glanced down at the mangled heap between them. “Was Hayil indeed attacking your friend and not me? I take it that means you have some enmity with the brotherhood.”
Jasper barked a laugh. “You could say that. I’m pretty sure she already tried to kill me last night - after being here for all of a single day - and the brotherhood has definitely made some attempts on my life in the past.”
“Then we have a shared interest, it seems.” The Djinn glanced venomously down at the body, spitting on the mangled corpse of the old woman. “So be the fate of all cultists,” he snarled. Then, bending down, he scooped up the Keeper’s body off the floor and, to Jasper’s astonishment, managed to stuff her corpse into his bag of holding, the body seeming to shrink as it slid through the opening. With the corpse disposed of, the Djinn glanced up at him impatiently. “Why are you just standing there? Come, help me clean this floor up. We have much to do and not much time in which to do it.”
Springing into action, Jasper bent down and helped the man scrub at the viscous coating of blood and gore that spackled the sandstone tiles. He couldn’t help glancing over his shoulder from time to time, still confused that no one had come to inverstigate. “Where is everyone anyways? Didn’t they hear the fight?”
Abnu shook his head, rubbing hard at a particularly stubborn spot. “I am not the only one from my clan investigating the cult. One of my friends arranged for the members to perform exhibition duels for a local orphanage after the morning exercises. The Keeper was supposed to go with them, giving me the opportunity to search her office for evidence. Until she didn’t.” He peered over Jasper. “I’m guessing now that you had something to do with that.”
“Sorry?” Jasper offered halfheartedly.
But even the most zealous of scrubbing couldn’t erase every trace of blood from the porous sandstone. The Djinn, however, had a solution for the problem. Taking a pouch of sand from his bag, he covered the stained patches thoroughly then poured a clear, yellow potion over the sand, smoothing it out with gentle strokes. Within the second the mixture had soaked in, covering all signs of the crime with a fresh coat of sandstone. It was perhaps a little too clean, Jasper thought, but it was definitely better than a bloodstain.
“That’s a pretty neat trick,” Jasper observed. The cheerful Djinn grinned, baring his sharp black teeth. “Aye, it’s actually a skill usually learned by maids but our clan has long appreciated it for its more creative uses.” Standing up, he brushed the remnants of sand off his hand. “It will be difficult to explain the Keeper’s sudden absence but perhaps you, my friend, can help.”
The Djinn pulled a piece of paper out of his bag, handing it to Jasper. “You are of the royal house, correct?” Jasper nodded reluctantly.
“Go back to your home in the capital, then. I will tell everyone that the Keeper decided to accompany you to the palace. Everyone already knows that she knew your mother, so it won’t be too unbelievable. It will keep the questions at bay for at least a few weeks.”
Jasper frowned.“But I have my own investigation to attend to.Kas̆dael, uh Nahrēmah,” he corrected himself, “is counting on me.”
Abnu grunted in surprise. “You’re working for the goddess herself?”
Jasper reluctantly nodded, kicking himself for his slip-up, but the Djinn simply looked impressed. “So you’re not totally unimportant - connections with the goddess and the royal family. Good to know.” He shoved the paper back in Jasper’s hands. “Go ahead, take it. I’m sure my clan will feel the need to investigate you further, but for the time being, we can work together. The name of one of my associates who works in the capital temple is on there. Give things a few days to calm down, and then swing by there. They can fill you in on whatever we’ve learned.”
“But what about her office?” Jasper objected.
“Whatever I find, I will share, regardless of what further cooperation my clan will or not agree to. Unless, of course,” he growled, “I discover you played me for a fool and were really working with her. In which case, being a member of the royal family won’t save you from our vengeance.”
Jasper rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m totally working for the woman who tried to kill me and my partner. However did you catch on to my clever, clever plan?”
The Djinn scowled at his sarcasm, as Jasper weighed the paper in his hands. Absolutely nothing about the situation had gone the way he’d planned, and he wasn’t sure how much he trusted the seraphs to actually share information with him. But with S̆arrābī’s deadline hanging over his head, his choices were pretty limited, not to mention the problem of dealing with the potential fallout from the Keeper’s disappearance. He decided to take a leap of faith.