The Saffron Gate (58 page)

^{I shook my head, making a writing motion with my other hand. What was the Arabic word for pen, and why was Mena making a fuss over something so insignificant when I felt so sick?}

^{'Qalam?'
she said quickly, and this time I nodded.}

^{'Yes.
Qalam.
Pen. She just poked me with a pen,' I murmured, knowing she couldn't understand my French. Again I tried to pull my hand away, but Mena held it firmly, calling out for Nawar and the servant. They both came from the kitchen, and Mena spoke rapidly, gesturing at my hand.}

^{The old servant let out a wail, throwing her apron over her face. Nawar's eyes widened, and she let out a stream of Arabic, as if praying.}

^{Mena spoke to me again, saying a word over and over, then turned to Nawar, and I heard Aszulay's name.}

^{The room was too hot, too bright. Mena's voice and Nawar’s prayers mixed with the old woman's wailing, and the sounds turned into gibberish, demonic shrieks. The room tilted, and the floor rose up to meet my cheek.}

^{THIRTY TWO}

^{T
he smell was strong, burning my nostrils, and I turned my head from it. But my forehead ached at the movement, and when I opened my eyes my sight was blurry. It took me a moment to understand I was lying on the daybed in the main room, and Mena was waving a small, smoking cloth bag in front of my face.}

^{'Besmellah rahman rahim
,' she kept repeating. She looked into my eyes and spoke again, and this time I understood the word
djinn.}

^{I wanted to shake my head, to say no, it's not a
djinn,
not an evil spirit. It must be something I had eaten earlier in the day, something that disagreed with me. I wanted her to stop waving the smoking bag over me, but couldn't think of any Arabic words except
la.
No.}

^{And then I saw Aszulay. He came up behind Mena, and spoke to her. She kept her face turned away, pulling her headscarf down so that it completely covered her features, and answered in rapid, short sentences, again picking up my right wrist, her voice rising as she held it tightly.}

^{Aszulay said one sentence, and Mena left.}

^{He crouched beside me. 'Mena says a bad woman performed witchcraft on you.'}

^{I tried to smile at the absurdity of it, but it was as though I was floating, as though I was in a painful dream. Was Aszulay really here, or was I just imagining him, as I had in the
hammam
earlier today? 'No. I'm just . . . sick. Maybe food . . .' My voice faded.}

^{He picked up my hand. His fingers felt so cool around mine. My face was burning, my cheek throbbing, and I pressed the back of his hand to it, closing my eyes at the coolness. Then I put my lips on his skin, breathing, trying to smell indigo.}

^{'What happened to your face, Sidonie?' His voice was soft. He didn't pull his hand away.}

^{I opened my eyes, and suddenly his features stood clearly, so close, and I realised what I was doing. It wasn't a dream. I let go of his hand and ran my fingers over my scar, then saw that he was looking at my other cheek. I moved my fingers to touch it; it felt swollen. 'I fainted. I must have hit my face,' I said, embarrassed. 'I'm sorry they brought you here.' I struggled to sit up, but was too weak. 'I'll be all right tomorrow. After I sleep.'}

^{'Who is the woman you told Mena about?' Aszulay said then, gently pressing on my shoulder, and I lay down again.}

^{'Manon. I went to see if Badou and Falida were all right, earlier today,' I said. 'They weren't there. Manon was.'}

^{'And? What happened to your hand?'}

^{I made a small sound, as if attempting to laugh. 'It's nothing. She wanted to give me a gift. I don't know why; she doesn't like me, does she?'}

^{He sat perfecdy still.}

^{'It was an old pen and inkwell. She handed it to me, and the point of the pen stuck me. That's all.'}

^{Something in his face changed. 'Perhaps I should take you to the clinic in the French Quarter,' he said.}

^{'What? No,' I said. 'I have some ointment in my room. Maybe that will help.' My teeth were chattering; no longer did I feel feverish, but now shook with a chill.}

^{Aszulay turned his head and called something, then picked up my hand again, bringing it close to his face and studying it. Now I saw that my palm was even more swollen, the cut already festering. I tried to bend my fingers, but couldn't.}

^{The old servant's face appeared over Aszulay’s shoulder; he spoke to her and she left. 'She'll bring you a blanket. And I've told her to send one of the boys to fetch something from my house,' he said. 'You need more than blessings and burning herbs.' His eyes left my face, moving lower, and then he reached out. 'Or amulets.'}

^{I looked at what he held: a circle with an eye on a gold chain. It was Mena's; I'd seen it when she undressed in the
hammam.
She must have put it on me tonight.}

^{Aszulay let go of the amulet and stood as the servant came near, muttering, holding a blanket out at arm's length. Aszulay took it from her and tucked it over me.}

^{I dozed off and on for the next little while, aware of Aszulay sitting on a low stool beside me. Then I felt him pick my hand up again. It was hard to open my eyes, but I did, and saw his head bend over my hand as he held something between his thumb and index finger. There was a sudden deep sting, and I tried to pull away, but he held my hand firmly. I moaned as I felt him prodding and digging in my palm with something hot and sharp.}

^{He murmured something in Arabic, something with a soothing sound, as if telling me it would soon be over, or that he was sorry.}

^{I held my breath.}

^{Finally he lifted his head, and I let out a soft cry of relief as the pain stopped. 'I have it,' he said, but I didn't understand what he meant, nor did I care.}

^{But immediately my hand burned, and I sucked in my breath and lifted my head to see what was happening. Aszulay was pouring something smelling of disinfectant over my palm. 'It hurts,' I said, and he nodded.}

^{'I know. Soon it will stop.' He wrapped clean gauze around my hand. 'Now drink,' he said, and held a glass to my mouth. The drink was syrupy, but couldn't hide a bitterness. 'It will take away the pain and help the fever.'}

^{I drank it all and lay back again, my hand throbbing terribly. Aszulay sat beside me, silent, and at some point — I had no idea of the time that passed — I realised I was no longer in pain, and a sleepy peacefulness came over me. 'It doesn't hurt any more,' I murmured.}

^{'Good,' Aszulay said, stroking my forehead with his hand.}

^{I knew I was falling asleep. 'I thought of your hands today,' I whispered, 'in the
hammam
,' and then I remembered nothing more.}

^{When I awoke the next morning, I lay for a few minutes, blinking in the dimness, wondering why I wasn't upstairs in my own room.}

^{And then I lifted my hand, seeing the neat gauze wrapping.}

^{Mena came in with a glass of tea, and I struggled to sit up.
'Kayf al-haal?'
she asked, handing me the glass.}

^{I accepted it awkwardly with both hands, mindful of my palm. 'I am good,' I said in Arabic, answering her question. I did feel all right; I was no longer feverish, and my hand only felt a little tender and stiff.}

^{I thought of Aszulay bending over me. 'Aszulay?' I said. 'He is here?'}

^{'La,
’
Mena said, shaking her head.}

^{Within an hour I felt well enough to go up to my room and change my clothes and brush my hair, although I was slightly shaky and my movements were clumsy because of my wrapped hand. The bruise on my cheek was a dark bloom, but only hurt if I touched it.}

^{I was sitting in the courtyard shortly after that when Aszulay came in. I was shy as I looked at him; how much of last night had happened, and how much had been in my head? My memories of the night before were mixed in with my thoughts of him in the
hammam.}

^{But he smiled at me, and I smiled back. 'You look much better,' he said, nodding. 'I stayed until early this morning, but when I saw you no longer had a fever and the swelling was less, I left.' He crouched in front of me and took my hand, gently unwrapping the gauze. 'Yes, look. You will be all right now. The poison is gone.'}

^{'Poison?' I said, looking at my upturned hand, resting lightly in Aszulay's. My palm had returned to its normal size, apart from the small sore in the middle.}

^{I suddenly remembered that I had pressed my lips to his hand the night before. But he knew I had been delirious, and couldn't be responsible for my actions.}

^{Aszulay rewound the gauze. 'Leave the wrapping for today, to keep the hand clean,' he said. 'By tomorrow it will be fine.'}

^{‘Poison?' I said again. 'What poison?'}

^{He stood and looked away. 'I took out a small shard of something from the wound. Bone. Some older pens had points made of sharpened bone.'}

^{I thought of Falida in the graveyard. Her ghoulish quest for what Manon wanted. I shuddered as if the chill of last night had returned. 'But why would old bone cause an infection?'}

^{He looked back at me. 'Old bone alone wouldn't. Perhaps . . . if it had been dipped in some substance . . .' He stopped. 'I don't know with certainty.'}

^{'And if you hadn't taken it out? If Mena hadn't sent for you?'}

^{'In two days I'll take Badou to the country,' he said, clearly changing the subject, not wanting to answer my question. 'Do you still wish to go?'}

^{I nodded, understanding that he wouldn't speak any further about what had happened to my hand. I couldn't ask him if he believed — as I did now — that Manon had intentionally tried to harm me. When she knew that I was going off with Aszulay and her son, she wanted to stop me.}

^{Manon had never wished to give me the pen and inkwell as a gift. She had done what she did on purpose, and it was horrible and frightening.}

^{I didn't ever want to see her again.}

^{I also didn't want to think about Badou and Falida, alone with a woman capable of such evil.}

^{Two days later, Aszulay came to Sharia Soura with Badou. Badou waited in the street while Aszulay came into the courtyard. I was draping my
haik
over my head when Aszulay said, 'Sidonie,' in such a way that I stopped, the cloth part-way over my head.}