Darren Shan - The Thin Executioner

Tel Hesani roared with fierce pain. The world flashed white. His fingers went limp, and the knife dropped. He fell back, helpless. It was a fatal wound, and he knew he would be dead within minutes unless Qasr Bint chose to finish him off sooner.

Jebel saw Tel Hesani fall. Ignoring his own safety, he darted towards his one-time slave. The woman stuck her leg between his and tripped him. He crashed to his hands and knees, scraping them raw. Grimacing with pain, he propelled himself to his feet — but was knocked down by the man, who drove an elbow into the small of Jebel’s back, then pinned him to the ground while the woman disarmed him. When she’d done that, she replaced the man on Jebel’s back and perched on him like a wild cat, digging in with her nails.

Jebel struggled until he realized how futile it was. Pausing, he looked over to see what sort of a state Tel Hesani was in. Qasr Bint had withdrawn the tip of his staff and was staring at the blood oozing out of the hole. He looked disappointed, as if he was sorry to have finished the slave off this quickly.

“Can I kill the boy now?” the woman asked, pointing her knife first at Jebel’s left eye, then his right.

Qasr Bint shook his head. “Not yet.” Stepping away from the dying Tel Hesani, he stood before Jebel and grinned demonically. Because of the missing flesh in his cheek, the grin seemed to stretch around the side of his face.

“So, boy, we come to our end. I’m sure you thought you’d seen the last of Qasr Bint and his children. But although many wicked spirits fell foul of those accursed bats, the pure among us made it over the bridge. We fought back the um Gathaah, and then we pushed on. I knew you’d come here.”

“How?” Jebel moaned. “We never told you where we were going.”

“You think I don’t know the mark of a quester?” Qasr Bint roared, poking at Jebel’s right arm with his staff, where the tattoo of the coiled serpent was hidden beneath the um Wadi’s sleeve. “That’s the reason I chose you in the first place. I knew, when I saw you in the Uneishu, that you were a quester and his slave, on their way to worship the false god Sabbah Eid.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jebel asked.

Qasr Bint smirked. “I was biding my time. I’ve long been curious about this place. I decided the time was ripe to explore, to come here with you and expose your god for the fake that he is. But I didn’t want to reveal my hand too soon. You might have—”

Tel Hesani groaned. Qasr Bint glared at the Um Kheshabah, then looked at Jebel again, nervously now. “We planned to kill you when you arrived. You cursed our mission. You’re the reason we fell foul of the bat-worshippers. You need to be wiped from the face of Makhras forever. But…” He hesitated.

“The fire,” one of the men said softly, gazing at the cave. “We sent a woman in first, and an unearthly fire devoured her. She died screaming.” He gulped.

“There’s no such god as Sabbah Eid,” Qasr Bint snorted. “Our gods alone are real. But sometimes one of them gets trapped on Makhras and mistaken by fools for a different deity. Such a god obviously resides in Tubaygat.”

Qasr Bint squatted beside Jebel and forced his chin up, so that they were staring directly at each other. “You will die tonight, boy. But it can be slow or quick, depending on whether you work with us or not.”

“I don’t understand,” Jebel wheezed. “What do you want me to do?”

“Take us in,” croaked Qasr Bint. “Only a quester and his companions can enter that cave. You’re going to get us inside. Once there, I ’ll petition the god. When he sees that I am of the true faith, he will bless me with invincibility and great strength and send me forth to do the work of the Um Biyara. Impervious to harm, with the beating of any man, I’ll bring not just all of the people of Abu Saga to their knees in worship of the Biyara gods, but all of Makhras too. It’s time for the sinners of this world to see the light or perish.”

“You can’t,” Jebel said. “Only a quester can—”

“Don’t tell me my business!” Qasr Bint shouted, and kicked Jebel in the ribs. “You can guide us willingly, or we can force you. Choose.”

Jebel glanced from Qasr Bint to Tel Hesani, trying to think of a way out of this, but he couldn’t see any.

“All right,” Jebel said quietly. “I’ll do as you command.”

“A wise call.” Qasr Bint pointed to the two surviving men. “Grab the slave and bring him, in case he makes a miraculous recovery and sneaks up behind us.”

“Wouldn’t it be simpler to kill him?” one of the men asked.

“I want him to witness my ascension,” said Qasr Bint. “I want him to gaze into my eye before he dies and understand the greatness of the Um Biyara.”

Tel Hesani tried to respond but only coughed up blood. As he lay wheezing, the Um Biyara picked him up and moved to the mouth of the cave, where they stopped. “What if the fire comes again?” one of them asked.

“It won’t,” Qasr Bint said. “We have the quester with us now.”

“But if it does ?” the man persisted. “How do we know that anyone ever walked out of there alive? The legends of successful questers might be nothing more than lies.”

Qasr Bint frowned, then jerked his thumb at the woman. “Go in with the boy.”

“But—” she started to protest.

“No arguments!” Qasr Bint barked, and pointed at her with the sharpened end of his staff. “If you don’t go, you’ll suffer far worse than death by fire.”

The woman cursed, then got off Jebel, grabbed his ear, and hauled him to his feet. He winced but didn’t struggle as the woman pushed him ahead of her, then past the men and Tel Hesani, into the shadows of the cave.

The heat increased the moment they entered, and grew by the second until Jebel thought that he was going to melt. Flames licked the walls around them, spouting from the rock. Fiery fingers extended towards Jebel and the woman, to consume them. But then they spat angrily around the pair and retreated.

“See?” Qasr Bint shouted, advancing excitedly. “I told you we’d be safe with the quester. Never doubt me again, you worthless worms!”

The two men holding Tel Hesani followed Qasr Bint into the cave, although they didn’t look as confident as their leader. When they reached Jebel, Qasr Bint grabbed the boy’s elbow and shoved him forward. “Don’t forget what I told you. Say nothing when the god appears. The glory will be mine alone. You are a mere tool. If you interfere, I’ll—”

“ WHO BREAKS THE SILENCE?” came a godly roar.

Everybody stopped and stared. Far down the cave, they saw a ball of light floating closer — the source of the voice.

“ WHO ENTERS THIS CAVE?” the voice roared, even louder than before.

Qasr Bint spread his arms. “Great god of the Biyara! Hear your loyal servant, Qasr Bint, and grant me the mercy of an audience.”

The ball of fire continued towards them and drew to a halt several feet short of the ecstatic Qasr Bint. For a moment it burned silently save for the crackle of the flames. Then the voice came again.

“ I KNOW OF THE UM BIYARA. WHY ARE YOU HERE?”

“We have quested,” Qasr Bint cried. “We come seeking power, to do the will of the mighty Biyara gods.”

There was a short pause. Then the voice said, “ YOU LIE.” As Qasr Bint stared at the fire, astonished, the voice spoke to Jebel. “ YOU ARE NOT UM BIYARA. YOU AND THE DYING ONE ARE DIFFERENT. WHERE ARE YOU FROM?”

“Abu Aineh,” said Jebel quietly. He wasn’t afraid of the fire, not after having sailed with Rakhebt Wadak on the river of death.