The phone rang. Lily got up to answer it, but by the time she reached the hallway and lifted the receiver, all she heard was a crackle, a long-distance hissing. ‘Hello, hello?’ No answer. She replaced the receiver thoughtfully, her mind suddenly full of Daniel. Did he need her? Was he thinking of her? Lily stared at the phone before going back into the kitchen. She could not dispel the suspicion that Helen’s announcement was somehow connected with Daniel’s disappearance. The phone call seemed like an eerie omen. Enniel knew that Shem had taken his companions to the Middle East, but there had been no news from them for weeks.
I can’t just go out there, Lily thought. I can’t.
But she knew that in morning, she would go to High Crag and speak to Enniel.
Chapter Eleven
The Keeper of the Key
Babylonia
Rocks cast long blue shadows over the twisting road. It was late afternoon, and they had been travelling for a day and a half. Shem dozed beside Daniel on the floor of the jeep. Daniel stared at his sleeping face, fighting an urge to reach out and touch it. Not yet. The time wasn’t right.
Salamiel was driving. He had persisted in chatting to the Yarasadi woman and had gleaned the information that her name was Sabry. She spoke enough English for Salamiel to make himself understood, and had grudgingly responded to his friendly overtures. Daniel had watched him flirting, amused.
The truck careered to a stop in front of a group of armed men, who appeared to have materialised from crevices in the rock. Like the first Yarasadi they had met, these men were not dressed in modern military garb, but long, dark robes embroidered elaborately in gold and crimson. Their heads were swathed in scarlet cloth, which revealed only their eyes. ‘We are near the camp,’ Sabry said. ‘Very near.’
The peshmergas approached the jeep and Sabry spoke to them in Kurmanji. After a wary inspection of the passengers, the Yarasadi waved them onwards.
‘Is Gadreel here?’ Daniel asked.
Sabry glanced round at him, frowned and shook her head.
The road suddenly turned sharply to the left and downwards. A hidden valley was revealed. Shem woke up and, as Daniel watched, wound a long white scarf around his head to conceal most of his features. Their eyes met. Daniel saw challenge in the gaze and returned it, obtaining a smug satisfaction when Shem finally averted his eyes.
Daniel leaned forward over Sabry’s seat to get a better view. The valley floor was lush and fertile, surrounded by forbidding cliffs of green-veined rock, full of gaping caves, which appeared to have been utilised as dwellings. A forest of oak hugged the far side of the valley, while before them, bizarre natural monoliths reared up from the valley floor, dwarfed by the looming cliffs. These formations looked very much like the ‘fairy chimneys’ of Cappadocia, but here the terrain was remarkably different. Cappadocia was almost a desert.
‘It’s unreal,’ Daniel murmured.
‘Bad in winter,’ Sabry said. ‘Cut off by snow for months.’
As well as the permanent rock dwellings, the settlement comprised many temporary buildings of hides and canvas, which were all roughly circular. People wearing the distinctive dark clothing and scarlet head-gear could be seen moving among them. Goats were grazing among parked trucks, and horses were corralled nearby.
Salamiel crunched the gears and the jeep descended into the valley. People paused in their activities to watch its advance. Daniel could sense their wariness and suspicion. Everyone carried guns. It was difficult to determine who was male and who was female.
At Sabry’s command, Salamiel brought the jeep to a halt between two tall chimneys of stone which stood before a wide sway-backed tent of goat hides. A tall figure stood at the entrance canopy, hands on hips. Golden fringes adorned his scarlet head-scarf. His proud stance declared his leadership. A group of other figures surrounded him, with guns slung over their shoulders.
‘Qimir,’ Sabry said. ‘Tribe leader. The sheikh.’
Daniel could sense a certain ‘otherness’ about the people before them. He felt almost reluctant to leave the safety of the jeep. How would they react to Shem? Would he reveal his true nature to these people, who had worshipped the angels for millennia?
‘Wait here,’ Sabry told them and climbed out of the jeep. Daniel watched as she approached the tribe leader and spoke to him. Qimir stood motionless, listening to the rapid outpouring; his eyes, which were the only visible features of his face, fixed on the wind-shield of the jeep.
‘He doesn’t look very welcoming,’ Daniel said.
Shem smiled. ‘You see what you want to see.’ Without further words, and ignoring a protest from Daniel, he got out of the back door of the jeep and approached the tribe leader.
Salamiel uttered a small, worried sound.
‘We can’t let him deal with this alone,’ Daniel said.
Salamiel nodded. ‘You’re right. Anu knows what he’ll say!’
Together they got out of the jeep. Daniel saw Qimir’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly as Shem drew close to him. What did the man see? Daniel wondered. Shem, even with his head and face covered, exuded a magnificence that went beyond appearances. Judging from the sudden stiffening of the sheikh’s body, Daniel felt it was almost as if the tribe leader’s worst fears or wildest hopes had been confirmed.
Shem halted beside Sabry and bowed his head. ‘Greetings to you, sir.’
The sheikh nodded shortly, but otherwise made no move or sound.
Shem straightened up. ‘My friends and I are here because we would like to meet Gadreel.’
‘I have explained your purpose,’ Sabry said.
Qimir’s eyes travelled slowly over Shem and his companions. ‘You are not journalists,’ he announced. ‘Just what are you?’ He spoke English perfectly, and his voice was not heavily accented, almost as if he’d been brought up in the West. It was a soft, low voice, precise and careful.
‘No, we are not journalists,’ Shem admitted. ‘But I assure you we have the interests of your people at heart. It is very important that I meet Gadreel.’
‘We shall talk,’ said Qimir. He turned and gestured towards the tent.
‘Thank you.’ Shem turned to his companions. ‘Well, this is it. Shall we go in?’
Daniel and Salamiel exchanged a glance. Gadreel was not here. Did that mean they would have to endure another fruitless period of waiting?
Inside, Qimir’s dwelling was adorned with flowers of white, purple and yellow that exuded a fresh perfume. Blooms splayed out of brass bowls and were hung in garlands on the canopied walls. The light from outside was dim, augmented by a couple of oil lamps flickering on the floor. Qimir bade his guests be seated on brocade cushions. As they sat down, the tribe leader summoned a young man from the shadows of the tent and spoke to him in a whisper. Then, Qimir unwrapped the red cloth from around his head to reveal a clean-shaven, tawny-skinned face of long, delicate features. ‘You have had a hard journey?’ he enquired.
Shem smiled. ‘Tiring. But the mountains are beautiful and do much to restore the spirit.’ He also unwound his head-cloth and shook out his hair.
Daniel watched Qimir’s reaction carefully; he suspected that the tribe leader knew already that Shem was no ordinary man.
A young boy emerged from beneath a curtain, carrying a large dish of dried fruit and nuts, accompanied by a girl who bore a tray containing a tall, narrow tea-pot and a number of glasses.
‘Refreshment,’ Qimir said. ‘It eases conversation.’
Shem inclined his head. ‘We thank you.’
The company waited in silence as the tea and food were distributed. Unlike most other people they’d met since they’d entered Turkey, Qimir seemed taciturn and aloof. The silence was uncomfortable, yet Qimir himself displayed no sign of unease. He sat thoughtfully, his head resting in one long-fingered hand.
Taking a sip of tea, Shem said, ‘These are my companions, Daniel and Salamiel.’
Qimir afforded them an appraising glance.
‘And I am Shemyaza.
’
Qimir smiled thinly. ‘Yes? That is not the name of an Englishman.’
‘No,’ Shem answered, ‘my name is, as Gadreel’s, from an ancient source.’
‘Shemyaza,’ Qimir said, ‘is a name known to me. It is another form of Malak Tawus, also called Azazil, the Peacock Angel and the first avatar of the Divine Spirit. Do you understand what that means to us?’
‘Yes,’ Shem answered simply. ‘I understand. I have lived with the knowledge of the meaning of my name for a long time.’
Their eyes locked, and after a while Qimir looked away and helped himself to a handful of the nuts. ‘So what is your business with Gadreel, other than a comparison of names?’
‘I cannot discuss it at this juncture. It is of a personal nature.’
‘You are known to Gadreel?’
Shem paused, then said simply. ‘Yes. I am known.’
Salamiel shifted uncomfortably upon his cushion. Qimir indicated him languidly. ‘Your companion does not think so.’
‘Not at all,’ Salamiel said smoothly. ‘Shemyaza is certainly known to Gadreel, but perhaps not acquainted.’
‘That is a strange distinction,’ Qimir said, biting into an almond. ‘Gadreel is not here of course. You did realise that.’
Shem shrugged. ‘I do not expect to find him easily, but I believe you can get word to him. We have travelled a long way and have waited a long time to meet him. Now, we are with his people. The next step must be a meeting with Gadreel himself. We would be most grateful if you could arrange this.’
Qimir threw back his head and laughed, which seemed an inappropriate response. ‘I can ask for a meeting,’ he said. ‘If your request is granted, you can expect a surprise.’ He sobered slightly. ‘Tell me, what can I reveal that would entice our prophet into your presence?’
‘Tell him that his brother, Shemyaza, wishes to speak with him.’
Now it was Daniel’s turn to squirm. As yet, they had no proof that Gadreel was Grigori, never mind the individual Shem believed him to be. If Gadreel showed up, it could be embarrassing, if not dangerous.
Qimir laughed again. ‘Brother to Gadreel, heh? I take it you have not met your brother?’
Shem shook his head. ‘No… well, not in this life.’
Qimir nodded. Shem’s answer seemed to have satisfied him. ‘I shall see to it that your message reaches the right ears. But you may have a wait. Until then, the hospitality of my household is open to you.’
‘It is more than we hoped for,’ Shem answered.
Presently, Qimir summoned one of his staff, a young woman named Shirin, and directed her to arrange accommodation for their guests. Shirin’s head was uncovered, although she was dressed, as the men, in long, dark, embroidery-encrusted robes. Her abundant hair, which was henna red, hung unbound down her back. Into it was woven small mountain flowers. Her wrists were braceleted with curling tattoos. She led Shem and his companions to a small tent that smelled strongly of goat. Lifting aside an entrance flap, she revealed a dark interior where thick, hairy hides were laid out on the floor. Daniel suspected the hides might be alive with vermin. Nor was there much room for three grown males to stretch out. Still, it was more private than the quarters given to them by Fatime.
Daniel and Salamiel went back to the jeep to fetch their belongings, watched by curious Yarasadi. ‘Qimir knows more than he’s letting on,’ Daniel said.
Salamiel nodded. ‘I thought that too. Yazid, of course, might have delivered a report.’
Daniel sighed. ‘God, I hope we don’t have another month of waiting to endure. I get the feeling this Gadreel character is playing with us.’
‘Perhaps he needs to be sure of us,’ Salamiel said. ‘If we are who we say we are, then we will wait. Gadreel would know this.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
That night, Daniel dreamed coherently for the first time since he’d left England. The wind cut through the valley with an eerie cry, and its noise intruded into Daniel’s restless sleep, creating a maelstrom of sound that was like the advance of a great army or the summoning of a sorcerous storm.
He stood upon wind-swept rocks above a black sea that heaved beneath a boiling sky. It seemed as if he’d entered the dream half-way through, as if a part of him had been existing within it for some time. Echoes of words recently spoken resounded in his mind, but he could not remember them.
A shimmering blue sphere hung above the sea, illuminating the angry cresting waves. Daniel peered at it, feeling that he’d invoked it, although the memory of doing so had vanished. It would be Ishtahar, his goddess, bringing more puzzles to him, and obscure answers to his questions. He saw her again as a child, hovering with drooping feet above the water, encased in her own bubble of light.
‘Ishtahar!’ he cried and as if in response, a wave crashed against the rock beneath him, soaking him with spray that smelled strongly of brine and rot. Ishtahar looked odd to him; at once familiar and a stranger.
‘Don’t you know me, Daniel?’ she asked, and the voice was that of a mature woman. The child smiled and spun before him in the air. ‘You have chosen to stay on this path, now follow it... The time of your rite of passage is at hand.’
Then a blinding flash crashed across the sky, like thunder. The rock shivered beneath his feet; he heard the crack of stone. When his vision cleared, he found himself standing within a plain chamber that was conical like a bee-hive. The air was noticeably drier, almost sterile, and a low hum vibrated all around him. The walls exuded a perfect white glow that seemed to occlude his surroundings rather than illuminate them.
Daniel turned round in a circle, and looked down at his glowing limbs that were absorbing the light. He could hear strange whispers speaking in an unknown tongue, and distant echoes as of metal and stone ringing together.
Presently, a darkness formed in the light before him and out of it came a shape; an immensely tall male figure robed in white. He looked like a man, but Daniel sensed he was not. His towering body seemed full of light, as if he was made of it. Long, eburneous hair fell over his chest, and his face was like a caricature of Grigori features; attenuated beyond what seemed possible, with slanting eyes of a piercing blue. His skin was so pale, Daniel could see mauve veins pulsing with life beneath it, yet despite an undeniable grotesqueness of appearance, the figure was in his own way beautiful. In his outstretched hands, he held a conical crystalline object that he seemed to be offering to Daniel.
Daniel stepped forward and held out his hands, but the stranger would not relinquish the object he held. He loomed over Daniel, perhaps seven feet or more in height. His mask-like face held neither compassion nor any other emotion that Daniel could recognise as Grigori, whose personalities were often more complex than human. He sensed a total amorality, a mind that viewed the world in a manner entirely alien to anything he had encountered before, in waking life or in vision. He was afraid of the creature, yet transfixed.
The tall being seemed to be aware of Daniel’s feelings for the faintest suggestion of smile stretched his lips and he nodded almost imperceptibly. His features began to quiver with minuscule movements; his eyes blinked like a cat. Daniel sensed that this was a language of expression, beyond words. He could not understand it, although it seemed to him that a stream of communication was flowing across and over him. There was no impatience. The stranger appeared to think that Daniel could understand every nuance of expression.
Daniel stood there for what seemed like half an hour, until the figure appeared to give up his attempt at communication. He shook his head and retreated into the white glow. Daniel felt he had left something important unsaid, failed to pick up a vital clue. The light grew dim around him. He hung in a void, wanting only to wake up.
It was the hour just before dawn. Daniel, feeling restless, crept out of the tent and stretched his limbs in the clear air. Goats moved like ghosts between the dwellings and the sentinel pillars of stone, chewing at the short grass. From far away, some distant peak, came the eerie la
ment of a woman’s voice; no song, but a succession of wordless vowels. The hiss of the wind was its percussion, and also its strings, as it whistled through the trees and howled through the rocky passes. Daniel felt the hairs upon his arms rise. There was magic here.
He walked away from the cluster of dwellings towards the far side of the valley, where the caves were. Smoke from dampened fires curled lazily in the predawn light, and the scent of flowers was very strong. Sleepy guards made no move as Daniel passed among them, almost as if he was invisible.
His footsteps echoed loudly in the caves as he passed them. He was drawn to a fissure in the cliff-face, which proved to be the start of a steep, upward path, little more than a gully. Daniel paused, and once again caught a ghost of the lilting refrain, as if someone was singing alone high above.
The path led to a narrow valley that sloped upwards away from him, oppressed on either side by steep rocks veined with startling green malachite. The grassy floor was starred with white flowers, which exuded a heavy, fresh perfume. Daniel stepped onto the grass, and as he did so, caught sight of two pale figures flickering ahead of him. They appeared to be flashing in and out of reality, gambolling like children on their way up the valley, although they were too tall to be children.
Every hair on Daniel’s body felt electrified. He smelled ozone, and his head began to ache. The figures became clearer in his sight; two males, completely naked, their skins unnaturally white. He could not make out their facial features, and their hair was a waving blur of indistinct colour around their heads and shoulders. They seemed to be involved in a game of some kind; their arms waved as if in the movements of a dance, and they were laughing. Facing each other, they moved sideways up the valley, gesturing at one another. Daniel knew immediately, without understanding how, that they were brothers.
One is incomplete, he thought. Unmade somehow…
As he watched them, the reason for this became apparent. The figure on the left looked perfect, graceful of limb with flawless skin, while his brother’s movements were jerkier. Daniel also realised that the second brother’s flesh was scored with long lesions along the flank, almost as if his body were seamed and splitting apart. The image was at once revolting and compelling. Daniel could not work out what it must mean.