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the Arabian occult, but they cannot disobey the command of a human spirit
I stood up wearily and checked my watch. The crystal was broken, but it was
still ticking. I walked back over to Professor Qualt "Can you hold on? I'll go
call for an ambulance."
Qualt clenched his teeth. "No, don't do that, They'll see the house, the
lawns, everything. Better to keep it as quiet as you can."
"What about Miss Johnson? And if you're ready for the shock, that's Max
Greaves's body down there. With a perfect face and a cut in his neck like the
Grand Canyon."
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Professor Qualt shook his head painfully. "That doctor-what's-his-name-Jarvis.
He'll help us out. He wouldn't want anyone to know that he buried an empty
coffin the first time they gave your godfather a funeral-"
Completely without warning, he passed out. I went back to the driveway and got
my car. It had a crack in the windshield and gravel scratches all over its
paintwork,-but otherwise it looked okay. I swung it around and drove it onto
the lawn, so that I could pick up Professor Qualt and take him to hospital.
My last-my last and final-view of Winter Sails was out of the back window of
my car. I slowed down as I came to the leaning trees at the head of the
driveway, and I took one quick look. It was as white and ghostly as ever, as
it stood by the Cape Cod sea, with hollow eyeless windows and sagging rafters,
the long grass blowing on the lawns.
It wasn't until I had delivered Professor Qualt safely to the local clinic and
was sitting across the street with an early-morning Bloody Mary and a
cigarette, that I began to cry. I watched myself in the steamed-up mirror at
the back of the bar as the tears rolled down my cheeks; the barkeep frowned
across at me as if I had just arrived in Massachusetts from another world.
Epilogue
Iranian Cultural Program
New York City Dear Professor Qualt,
I thank you on behalf of myself and all my colleagues for your kind note of
condolence. Ms. Modena had not been working for my department for very long,
but her enthusiasm and vivacity will be sorely missed.
In answer to your questions about her background and about the legends of the
Nazwah or N'zwaa, I can only say there is indeed a story that a plain girl
gave up her body to a terrible djinn many centuries ago in order to protect
her beautiful sister. Ms. Modena spoke about the legend to me several times,
because she believed it was connected with a rare artifact of Persian pottery
which she was trying to trace for us.
I regret that I cannot recall all of our discussions on the subject, but I do
remember that Ms. Modena was fascinated by the inconsistencies in the legend
and spent many hours in our library seeking further information. What chiefly
troubled her was the fact that, in spite of the plain sister's self-sacrifice
to the djinn, the beautiful sister still died, even though the djinn had made
a pact that he would not harm her. Since djinns were apparently as firmly
bound by agreements as any other being, Ms. Modena told me that she could only
assume that, in some way, the plain sister had not kept her part of the
bargain.
I remember that she came across an interesting fragment of evidence in an old
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story of the days of Hasan i Sabah, in which it was said that there was a
family of plain women who, generation by generation, pursued the quest of
seeking a magic bottle, in which it was said that a genie lived. Centuries
before, this genie was supposed to have had carnal relations with the first of
their line and given that first plain woman-if I can clearly recall Ms.
Modena's words-"ecstasy beyond all human comprehension."
Although this story was written many hundreds of years after the original
event was supposed to have taken place, Ms. Modena believed that this was, at
the very least, a suggestion that the plain sister had broken the pact between
herself and the djinn by actually enjoying her torment. Although the djinn
possessed her in many appalling forms and she was eventually killed by his
ministrations, she was so delighted by the carnal pleasure of the torture that
she would have done anything to have more, and probably agreed to allow the
djinn to destroy her beautiful sister in return for further ecstasy.
There are later stories which indicate that both sisters, at the time of their
deaths, were pregnant. The plain sister was apparently impregnated by the
djinn itself, although we cannot be sure of this, and it may have been one of
the sorcerers of the N'zwaa or even (as Ms. Modena aptly put it) a stray
goatherd. The beautiful sister was pregnant by her fiancé.
Both the babies were removed from the bodies of the sisters when they were
killed and given to women of the surrounding villages to look after. Possibly
the N'zwaa wanted to rear them (since the babies were such a peculiarity) as
future sacrifices to their cult's demons and djinns. However, as the story
goes, both babies survived and left the region, which suggests they lived in
the time of K'oris the witch-hunter, who was a local official dedicated to
stamping out illegal practices and demonic religions such as that of the
N'zwaa.
Ms. Modena believed that throughout the years, the family of the plain sister
sought the djinn the world over, hoping that they might live again through the
terrible ecstasy that had created them; and that in their turn the family of
the beautiful sister sought the descendants of the plain sister, so that they
might wreak their revenge on them for the betrayal of their ancestor. I hardly
knew whether to believe her or not, but I have come across stranger truths in
my work on ancient artifacts, such as the time in Aqaba during the war when I
was shown a piece of "magic carpet" which flew around my tent like a frenzied
butterfly.
There was only one other point that I remember from Ms. Modena's story. She
said that if ever a descendant of the beautiful sister found the Jar of the
Djinn, then she would know that the descendant of the plain sister could not
be far away. But she would always be in mortal danger, because it was the
daughters of the beautiful sister that the djinn most wanted to possess, and
once the daughter of the plain sister was dead, there would be nothing on
heaven or earth to protect her from it.
I sincerely hope that these few fragments of recollection have been of some
use, and I look forward to the day when you can call at my office to discuss
this and perhaps other matters connected with Iranian antiquities at leisure.
I remain your obedient
K. L. Asrah.
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Bedford Street,
Cape Cod.
Dear Mr. Erskine,
Since we last met, I have finalized all the arrangements for the funerals of
Miss Johnson, Miss Modena, and the other gentleman. As you said yourself, it
was most unfortunate that all three of them should have been so susceptible to
swine flu, and my death certificates show this to be the cause of extinction.
I have looked through Winter Sails at some length for the year, but I regret
there is no trace whatsoever. It is quite gone or destroyed in the storm. I
cannot say. The house anyway is now up for auction, and I doubt if we shall [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]