Born of Shadow - Book 1 (complete)

Chapter 13

Zaynah awoke to a hissing sound. She didn't bother to open her eyes. She knew the hissing would be followed by the voice, and she knew even if she opened her eyes to seek the source of the voice, there would be no body attached to it.

The voice would tell her what to do when she understood it. She had understood it once, on that ill-fated night at the dig site when she had discovered the jar. She had heard the orders and had been obedient to the voice's command.  

It was probably just as well the shadow had forced the first sacrifice. If she had known the guard was her cousin Asim, she would never have gone through with it. She still wished deep down that he had never filled in for another guard that day, that Asim still lived. But she couldn't bring Asim back, and at least he had died for a cause greater than any one life. She now knew that it had been a necessary sacrifice, though it hadn't seemed so at the time. There had been so many sacrifices since.

That was the biggest reason not understanding the voice was so frustrating. She had understood the language once, so she knew she had the ability. Since then the voice had only spoken gibberish. She did the best she could under the circumstances, creating her creatures, gathering for what was coming. But she knew she could be so much more potent if she knew what the voice was saying. She sensed the voice had much to teach her.

Zaynah slipped her hand beneath her tunic and felt the welts crisscrossing her back. She didn't need to keep them anymore, not after she had merged with the shadow and gained her powers. She could have removed the scars and made her back as smooth and unblemished as the rest of her skin, but she didn't want to. 

She kept them as a reminder of what she had once been, and as a reminder of what she must never become again. Weak.

She thought back with shame to that day two years before, and of what she had been too weak to prevent.

* * *

Zaynah pulled her veil tightly around her face. She stared up at the house located in Zamalek, the wealthiest district of Cairo. It was a far cry from most of the houses in the village she had been raised in. These homes were all show pieces to rub in the faces of the poor, as were the expensive restaurants, and the fancy gardens she had glimpsed behind wrought iron gates. This home was one of the largest of the lot, a white giant with no less than three floors and ten balconies. It was ostentatious. That was the word she was searching for.

She couldn't imagine what her father was doing in such a fancy place. Perhaps he drove their cars or tended their gardens. 

She pushed the doorbell. A heavyset woman wearing a starched dress opened the door. 

"Can I help you?" she asked, eyeing her suspiciously. Zaynah smoothed her worn robes self-consciously.

"I would like to speak to Elias Gamil," she said.

"He is away on business. Perhaps you can give a message to his wife."

 Zaynah blinked hard. 

"There must be some mistake," she stammered. "Maybe it is the wrong Elias Gamil."

"Then I can't help you," the housekeeper said.

"Who is it?" a sweet voice asked. Zaynah had looked behind the maid to see a pretty woman with immaculate makeup wearing a pink silk hijab and tunic set. 

"No one. Just a girl who mistook your husband for another," the housekeeper said as she closed the door.

Zaynah sagged against the door in disappointment. She'd been so sure she had found him this time. The woman at the marketplace that she had shown the picture to had been positive he lived here. She had been so hoping she had finally found him. He needed to know how ill her mother was. She still couldn't understand why he hadn't written or returned home.