People were dancing all around him now, and moving in, the Djinn-matron scooped up the preserved vine in her gnarled old hands with a whoop of delight. Cackling and decrying something at the top of her lungs in the same language Dusk had used earlier, she rushed away, straight into the temple. With jubilant laughs, others followed, dancing towards the temple and forgetting their shopping behind in the dust of the promenade. As Dusk was hauled to his feet by people of numerous Nile Lineages, he glanced to Layla with a beaming smile – before he was hefted to shoulders and marched off towards the temple.
“Well, you’d better go after him.” Tarik glanced at Layla and Adrian, grinning. “I have a feeling your afternoon will be quite a lot more public than you had planned. I will see you back here for dinner. Don’t be late. Amira wants to give the Dragon Bind a special dance.”
With those enigmatic words, Tarik swirled out to nothing in a smooth gust of wind.
But just before he disappeared, Layla could have sworn she saw him wink.
CHAPTER 13 – BAZAAR
The interior of the Luxor Temple was boggling to Layla’s mind. As beautifully painted and carved as the outside, soaring columns were topped with lotus in vivid blues, greens, and yellows, ibis-headed gods and crocodile-headed goddesses upon every column. Though similar to gods and goddesses in the human-world temples of Egypt, the gods here in the Twilight Realm were notably different, having feathered skin and taloned hands for the ibis-people rather than human bodies, and leathery skin on the crocodile folk that made everything Layla knew to be Egyptian wondrously strange and artfully familiar at the same time.
Dusk had been carried to an altar in the middle of the temple, and was now being decorated by garlands of jasmine and marigolds as he laughed, people from outside continuing their spontaneous music inside the vaulted space with its rows of massive columns. Associated with the temple, the Djinn-matron painted lines upon his brow in a red ochre paste as she chatted excitedly with temple priests and priestesses in gauzy white garb, ostensibly telling them what had occurred outside just now. Incense was being lit and placed in niches, many people leaving the diamond-preserved honeysuckle flower Dusk had given them as an offering at the foot of their favorite effigy.
But the Djinn-matron had left the long diamond-vine upon a white altar at the middle of the space, and taking an olive branch from a woven basket beside the altar, she used it to flick water over Dusk from a golden bowl. He lifted his chin and closed his eyes as she did it, breathing deep of a musky sandalwood and jasmine incense that wafted through the air now. Standing by the tall pillar of an Isis-winged deity, Adrian and Layla looked on. Some of the temple-keepers noticed them, putting two and two together that Dusk had emerged from the guesthouse with them, and wandered over with bowls of red paste.
An old crocodile-grandma dressed in a gauzy white gown of the temple approached Layla, smiling kindly. Her beady black eyes twinkled as she took up Layla’s hand, painting her left palm with red paste. An elderly ibis-man in a white caftan was doing the same to Adrian, and after they finished painting one palm, they drew lines across Layla and Adrian’s brows. The ceremony was finished with flicks of water from the olive branch, and then they were tugged over to light incense at the foot of an enormous Isis-statue with white wings spread at the far front of the temple.
Dusk was already there, lighting incense and kneeling before the goddess, and Layla watched him present his long vine of preserved flowers soberly to the massive stone effigy. Holding a honeysuckle flower lined in every color like diamond in one hand, the goddess held a matching diamond staff of knowledge crossed over her breast in her other hand. As Layla gazed up into the goddess’ benevolent face with her pleated white skirt, ornate collar, bare breasts, and exquisite jewelry, she realized the image had been carved from the likeness of Dusk’s ancient ancestor.
Curling lines of gold moved over Isis’ shoulders, arms, and torso, just like Dusk’s. Edged in finely serrated rose-blush Dragon scales, they were the feminine version of Dusk’s more ornate, masculine scales. Rose-gold Dragon scales lined the woman’s high cheekbones and cascaded into her long dark hair from her outer temples. Edged in dark Egyptian liner, her eyes were painted full of a rose-dawn light as she gazed down upon the world, her enigmatic lips holding a soft smile – lips that were the precise mirror of Dusk’s.
In fact, as Layla stared up at the ancient effigy, she saw this woman was the spitting image of Dusk in every way, her facial features the same, her towering stature feminine but strong with corded muscle like Dusk. Other than her rose-gold color rather than a midnight blue, the fact that she was clearly female, and the enormous spread of long white wings stretching out to the far edges of the hall from her back, she looked like Dusk in every way.
As Dusk rose, opening his eyes and staring up at his ancient ancestor, everyone in the hall noticed the similarity between the two. Awed whispers moved through the long hall with its enormous columns as people gathered, staring first at the effigy, then Dusk. The music kept on around the columns but it was softer now, slower and more reverent. As the Djinn-matron stepped forward, taking up Dusk’s hands, she kissed each of his cheeks solemnly, then his lips. Beckoning for her ibis-priest and crocodile-priestess to bring Adrian and Layla forward, the old Djinn-matron beamed a smile at their trio, then spoke in halting English.
“The old gods give way to the new,” she spoke in a voice cracked with time, but still haunted with desert winds as her body faded, then brightened again. “Mortal you three are, but possessed by gifts of the ancients, so we feel in you. A beloved saint comes back to us in a young man from a clan thought dead, with his heart open and great works in his hands. We bless you all today with the ancient rights of his ancestor, and hope your works may benefit us all in peace and prosperity, as hers once did. Come. Be welcome in the Chapel of Ishet, a place of unity for all peoples, and an ancient place dedicated to the rejuvenation of Kingship. We understand you travel homeward upon the morrow, and we entreat that you spend the afternoon with us, enjoying our hospitality until your business takes you elsewhere. Come, please. To the Temple Market.”
Tugging Dusk by the hand, the Djinn-matron beckoned to Layla and Adrian as her vivid blue eyes beamed. Following her with their retinue of impromptu musicians, they made their way through the hall of columns, back out into the bright day. Sprawling before them in the temple’s vast courtyard ringed by colonnades was the market – a gaily-colored hodgepodge of wooden stalls with rattan awnings, bright silk canopies, and plain stalls set up under the palms. Stepping down a series of stone stairs, they came into the market, merchants and shoppers of numerous Twilight Lineages blinking incredulously at Dusk but smiling wide to see him blessed with red ochre paste and being towed around by the old Djinn-matron, whom Layla assumed now was High Priestess of the temple.
Garlands of marigolds were set around their necks as Dusk, Adrian, and Layla maneuvered through the market with their musical retinue. Tame birds with bright plumage and cascading tails were set upon their shoulders as vendors smiled and chatted with delight, receiving the story of the Crystal Dragon and the diamond honeysuckle from those who had seen it. The story spread with the music and dancing, and soon gifts were being presented to Dusk, Layla, and Adrian on all sides. A Djinn-vendor urged them to smoke from an enormous gilded hookah as large as Layla, sharing a honeysuckle-flavored smoke. Ceramic cups of thick Egyptian coffee with an uplifting spice were pressed into their hands as an ibis coffee-vendor beneath a red-striped awning gave a beaming bow.
Even as they finished their coffee, their hands were being pressed with small glass flutes of a saffron-ochre cordial. With a grin, Dusk downed his, followed by Adrian, who coughed. As Layla did also, she erupted into coughs as a warm liqueur flavored with anise and cinnamon flared through her. She suddenly felt her body lifted high into the sky like a funnel of wind had swept her up, though her feet were still on the ground. Elated, instantly intoxicated, she laughed – hearing Dusk give a rumbling chuckle beside her as Adrian gave his winsome laugh also.
Layla hardly remembered the rest of their journey through the bazaar, caught up in a whirlwind of elation, joy, and intoxication. Over and over, her arms were stuffed with marigold garlands and potted plants, bolts of gaily-striped silks, slippers with delicate embroidery, and ornate jewelry as they made their way through the market. Her arms were emptied nearly as fast as Dusk entreated the Djinn-matron to take all the generous gifts and distribute them to the needy of the temple – which only made the merchants smile and pour more items into Layla, Adrian, and Dusk’s hands. They were soon followed by a train of people shuttling gifts back to the temple, and as Layla’s head spun, a grinning musk-ox man placed a live monkey in her arms. It quickly ran up to the top of her head and started rummaging through her curls. With a laugh, it was whisked away by the High Priestess, but not before it tousled Layla’s hair into a glorious mess.
All around, people laughed. The mood was gay as they meandered from stall to stall beneath bright awnings of striped red and gold silk, under high swaying palm trees and back out along wide, sun-dusty avenues. Bites of everything were fed to Layla, from fat Medjool dates to a honey-cake like baklava, to spicy dishes full of meat and vegetables like curry. Lentils and rice, fresh edible lotus-flowers, toasted nuts with orange zest and honey and more were offered to their trio, along with more coffee, herbal elixirs, and teas.
Layla had no sense of time as she laughed away the afternoon with Dusk and Adrian, enjoying everything the bazaar had to offer. When they were suddenly back at the rear gates of the Djinn guesthouse, standing among honeysuckle vines as Dusk rumbled a few last diamond-gifts to the Priests and Priestesses to distribute, the mood was blithe. The sun waned low over the river to the west as actual musicians took to the promenade before them, striking up a lively Egyptian tune. Dancing began, women and men both celebrating in the now-massive throng.
Kisses were being pressed to Layla’s lips, and Adrian’s, and Dusk’s by the priests and priestesses. Layla’s hands were moving, taking off her gold jewelry from her Courtesan’s debut and handing them out to the crowd, joyful children shrieking in delight and racing them away. Dusk had similarly given away his Rolex and the few rings on his fingers, as well as his shoes, and with a bright laugh, Adrian did the same.
As Tarik came for them, laughing as he kissed the old Djinn-matron on the lips and then sequestered their trio away from the crowd, a great cheer went up. Layla caught the gaze of the young crocodile-mother and her daughter, now up on her shoulders. Blowing Layla a kiss, the crocodile-mother beamed, then moved away with her daughter towards the dancing. Stepping back inside the wrought-iron gates of the guesthouse, Layla was flooded with love as Tarik led her and her men into the hotel’s inner garden, the sound of the music still flowing in through the greenery, though quieter now.
“Well. You three have had quite the afternoon!” Tarik joked gently, his electric eyes alight with mirth and pleasure. “It was well done to donate all you received today to the people of Luxor. You will be remembered for it.”
“Those gifts were not ours to receive,” Dusk spoke with a beaming smile as he settled upon a rattan lounge-chair, rolling his pant legs up a few turns as if he might just go barefoot the rest of the night. “They belong to the people, and the High Priestess will see them given to those who need them.”
“Indeed.” Tarik’s gaze was mystical as he smiled upon Dusk, but just as he was about to say more, a woman moved into the courtyard. Tall and curvaceous with long, sleek black hair, she was strong yet willowy as she came forward in a flowing purple and white striped caftan, to give Tarik a kiss upon his cheek. Clearly a Djinn, she faded to bright edges and then became substantial again as she beamed at their trio with electric-blue eyes the same as Tarik’s – and Layla knew they were looking at Tarik’s daughter, Amira.
“Father,” she spoke in a wind-haunted alto, “dinner is ready. Shall we call the guests to sup?”
“Yes, dear heart, please do. And find that wayward brother of yours and make sure he does his turn serving our guests. Tell him if he does, he’ll get to see Layla again. That should motivate him.”
“I will.” Amira laughed brightly, humor sparkling in her eyes. Turning to Adrian and Dusk, she nodded to each of them regally, before stepping to Layla and taking up both her hands. “Royal Dragon Bind, be welcome in our home. I am Amira Malhoum, daughter of Tarik, and your welfare is my delight. I have much to do at the moment preparing dinner and entertainment for the house this evening, but I would very much like to speak with you later. If you would indulge me?”
“Of course.” Layla smiled, enjoying Amira’s bright, calming presence. It would be nice to have a woman around after so much male energy, and Amira seemed to sense it, squeezing Layla’s hands with a smile. But with a shimmer of mirage and a sweep of winds, she was gone, obviously taking her duties about the guesthouse seriously.
Showing the trio back to their rooms, Tarik departed also, inviting them to get ready for dinner, which would begin in the courtyard in half an hour. Stepping back into Layla’s suite and shutting the door, their trio moved hastily to their rooms, changing into clothes for dinner. No one said much as they whisked around getting ready, leaving the doors open between their suites. But an elated energy pulsed through them from everything that had happened this afternoon – and Layla had no doubt that Dusk’s high mood was pushing their heady energy through the Bind.
