Murad faced Jebal. “There is a bedouin woman. She has the sight, and she has strong magic. If anyone can save Lilli Zohara, I believe it is her.”
“So be it. I am desperate, for I do not think Zohara will last another night.” Jebal turned and walked onto the galleria. Thanking Allah for Jebal’s permission, Murad abruptly left the room. He would retrieve the bedouin witch immediately.
And if the old woman failed to save Alex from the afterlife? It struck Murad then that he could follow her into the next world, too.
She was a small woman with a surprisingly round and pleasant face. She wore a dozen amulets and carried a satchel smelling of spices and herbs. Her robes were colorful and clean. The outermost garment was bright red, clasped over one shoulder and belted. The moment she entered Alex’s chamber, she paced the perimeter, not even looking at the dying woman. Murad and Jebal stood by the door, side by side, watching with doubt and apprehension.
The woman finally reached into her satchel and sprinkled herbs in her wake.
The bedouin paused in the center of the room, finally gazing at Alex. She stood utterly still, her dark eyes intense and bright.
“Well?” Jebal asked impatiently and not without a little skepticism. “I brought you here to treat my wife. They say you can heal anyone. Will you not cast a spell upon her?”
“I rarely cast spells,” the woman said, piercing Jebal with a look. Then her intense black eyes lanced Murad. “I will tell you what you wish to know.”
Murad started.
“She does not suffer from poison, but from grief. She is willing herself to die.”
Jebal gasped.
The woman looked around the chamber again, then straight at Murad. “There is evil lurking here, as well. As you have known all along.”
Murad licked his lips. “Yes.”
“More than one force. Beware, Murad. Protect both her and yourself.”
“What is she talking about?” Jebal demanded.
The bedouin faced him. “Your wife has many enemies.”
“You have said that she wasn’t poisoned.”
“That is right.” The bedouin walked over to Alex, staring at her pale, almost peaceful face. She held both of her palms in the air, face down, over Alex’s face and chest. Slowly she lowered her hands until she had placed them on the ill woman. Her expression had tightened with intense concentration.
“What are you doing?” Jebal asked.
She did not reply. She was sweating.
Murad watched her, praying. He was perspiring, too.
Finally the old woman removed her hands and collapsed on the foot of the bed. “She will live. I have returned her soul to her.”
“Her soul was gone?” Jebal cried, turning a ghastly shade of white.
“Half of her soul was gone,” the old woman said. She regarded Murad. “Gone but not dead. I have returned her faith. She will live now. Her will is very strong.”
Chills raced up and down Murad’s spine. He had the uncanny sense that she was somehow referring to Blackwell.
The bedouin said, “I will give you a special tea. Force her to drink it for a week, three drops every hour. She will wake up tomorrow. In a few days she will be able to get up from her bed.” The woman passed her hand over Alex’s forehead, briefly touching her. “This woman has a very strong destiny.”
Murad closed his eyes, shaking. He already believed, for the most part, that Alex was a time traveler from the future. “Her destiny?” he whispered dryly.
But the bedouin woman stood and walked to the door. Fortunately Jebal only glanced at Murad before going to Alex and covering her hands with his. He knelt beside her and began to pray softly.
Murad turned to look at Alex. Oddly enough, her color seemed better, a little bit pink now, less waxen.She has a very strong destiny.
The bracelets on the old woman’s wrists and ankles jingled softly, causing Murad to turn. She had paused, and again she gazed only at Murad, steadily. “Her journey has only just begun,” she said.
