Blood Ex Libris Page 20

  I’d told myself I’d accepted that history. That it was not just in the past, but deep in the past. He was Sandu now, and the Sandu I was with in the here and now was real. The Vlad of the past was shrouded in myth and the worst sort of legend.

  He’d told me about the propaganda machine that was used against him.

  How much of what The Nose had just told me was pure misinformation? Would I let him keep those lies alive? Should I judge Sandu on them?

  It was strange, but when I was safely near Sandu, it was all too easy to doubt him. But far away from him—stolen away from him—all I could feel was trust in him, belief in the person I thought he was. The Nose was trying to wedge us apart and had been doing so since even before he’d abducted me. It was backfiring, however. Now, in my head, I sprang to Sandu’s defense. This asshole who was hallucinating that he was a genie was not going to lure me to the dark side by repeating centuries-old slanders about my...well, my love, dammit, and my patar, which turned out to mean something to me, after all.

  I realized with a start that I needed to respond to the scheming, insane vampire sitting by me. How to play this? “Yes,” I said slowly, thinking fast. “Those were terrible things. I don’t know how anyone could do them.”

  Mehmet the Mad Genie fought to keep the triumph from showing on his face. It did, however, glow out of his metallic eyes while he looked solemnly at me. “I am sorry, Naz hanım, to have to tell you those things, those true but painful things. You needed to know them. Do you understand?”

  “Yes...” What to call him? Oh! “Yes, my Sultan.” It felt very wrong to say that, but I forced all the sincerity I could muster into it. “You have...you have helped me understand.”

  “Peki! Now we go on with your teaching!” And so we did. The Nose seemed to have any number of hours to devote to talking to me. The cranky minion whom The Nose called “Țīr” dropped off food about once a day, or what I assumed was a twenty-four-hour-ish period, not having a watch or any other way to tell time, and replaced the bucket with a new one. I think they just tossed them away after one use, which was not environmentally or fiscally responsible of them, but I wasn’t going to complain.

  Most of my hours I spent sleeping, thankfully. Am’r-nafsh don’t seem to have much problem with insomnia. I could now drop off and sleep deeply whenever I wanted, which was quite handy for a prisoner.

  On the second “day,” along with the food came a washbasin, a towel, and a change of clothing: a black kaftan heavy with embroidery. I washed and changed gratefully. The kaftan was pretty comfortable, actually.

  Every day, the Mad Genie Formerly Known As Mehmet came in to instruct me on how the am’r were really jinn. Laying out his reasoning—if you could go so far as to call it that—gave him pleasure, and more than just pleasure. It was as if every person he convinced strengthened his belief in his narrative.

  First, he explained how the am’r had been terribly confused for ever so long, thinking they were vampires—he called them that as a sort of insult—when they were really jinn.

  “It was an easy misunderstanding, Naz hanım, for the stories of the vampires and the aspects of al-jinn have many commonalities. Jinn and vampires can live secretly in the society of the people of clay. The tales of jinn and myths of vampires both include shape-changing, invisibility, and the power to fly. Even the word ‘jinn’ means ‘covered by darkness,’ and both are associated with the madness that comes from poetry. Both are rumored by mortals to live in ruins or burial sites, and both are attracted by blood and drink blood, nor can they eat other food. As well, both are associated with the sickness or death of mortals, no surprise! One of the Faith reading Dracula knows what those symptoms of the girls mean; no need for a vampire-hunter to explain—and to get it wrong!

  “As I studied and prayed, I realized how misled we were, calling ourselves am’r. It was a Frenk concept. It never felt true to me. In my upbringing, there was a better explanation for all I have become. Indeed, there is no better way to explain my immortality, for does it not say in the Kur’an: ‘Shall I lead thee to the Tree of Eternity and to a Kingdom that never decays?’ It was my own self, do you not see? I know the way to Eternity, and it is not apples, no, but the smokeless fire that runs through my very veins as blood which will transport and transform you. Of course, I would not bow down before Adam! ‘Thou didst create me from fire, and him from clay.’ Why should I kneel before mortal clay when my immortal fire is obviously superior in every way?”

  Aside from this confusing, narcissistic gibberish, which I had to pretend was enthralling and enlightening, he also expounded on his political agenda. It seemed he had a personal grudge against the founder and first President of the Republic of Turkey, Mustafa Kemal Atatürk—am’r have the opportunity of holding long grudges-and lucky me, I got to hear all about it.

  “I killed him, you know. I had to. He had done much damage already. His illness was no illness unless you can say he came down with me, hehehe! I drained him, and I gave him the poisoned blood called ‘maadak.’ Ah, but if I had known then of my true heritage, of my true destiny, it would have been different! I would have set up a court! Cinlerim are strong believers in justice, sevgili, and when we had found him guilty of his myriad crimes against the Ottoman Empire—my empire—I would have pulled out his heart with my own hand, and squeezed all the blood from it down my throat! But I still thought I was an unclean creature, and I kept to the shadows, killed him like a coward, drained him and poisoned him, and they thought it was “cirrhosis of the liver.” I never got the credit for killing the one who had displaced my namesake Meḥmed-i sâdis, Vahideddin!

  “He destroyed what was left of my empire and made it a secular nation-state. What does this mean but a godless, directionless disarray? ‘Democracy,’ ‘civil rights.’ I will shoot him with his ‘six arrows!’ Six arrows straight to the seven gates!

  “But now I can correct it. No longer are we creatures unclean. As pure as smokeless fire, I and my jinn will step forward. We are meant to be the rulers of clay since we are above them in body and spirit. We shall rebuild my empire. No longer just the lands around my beautiful Türkiye, but the whole world shall finally follow the right path, the clay serving the fire. Do you see how beautiful and right it will be, my Naz hanım? But of course you do; how could you not? You will be by my side with the rest of your brothers and sisters of the fire as we scorch the world clean. The world-empire of Jinnestan will be ours to rule!”

  After The Nose had pontificated enough, he would leave me “to think and pray upon it.” I’m not sure who he thought I might pray to. After he left and the relief wore off, there would be boredom leading into a nap, waking to find food and a replaced bucket, washbasin, towel, and a new kaftan, which killed time before more napping. It turned out that being a prisoner was more about boredom than terror.

  After some days had passed, I was shocked awake from yet another boredom-induced-nap to find Țīr right over me, sniffing hungrily. If I’d not awakened just then, I’m certain he would have lost control and had at least a sip, if not drained me dry. I was at one of those junctures where I had to guess what to do right the first time since there would be no second chances.

  “Iblis!” I shouted. “My Sultan! Defend me, Iblis, leader of the Jinn!”

  Țīr rocked backward with such speed he was nearly clumsy. He looked terrified. “You do not...there is no need to tell Fatih. I apologize. It was just—your smell!” He left, and the door slammed shut behind him.

  I found that am’r-nafsh could have insomnia after all, or at least, I felt no need to sleep before The Nose’s next visit. He came in, looking severe. “I know of the transgression, tatlım. There is no more need to worry. The offender has been dealt with. You are safe in my care, and when you are ready, I will make you safer still.”

  I knew better than to inquire further, but curiosity overcame me. “Safer?” I had to ask.

  “You are only one of us in potential, shall we say. The blood of my enemy
runs yet in your veins, güzelim, and I will clean it away for you and build our own connection stronger yet.”

  I seriously did not like where this was going, but I had to know. “How, my Sultan?”

  “We will replicate the ritual that made you into what you thought was ‘am’r-nafsh.’” Three times we will share our blood, and it will wash you clean of the tainted blood of Kazıklı bey, then I will become your father-in-fire. All my people will scent the connection on you, and you will be perfectly safe with any of them. And when you pass from your state of clay, you will finally be one of us completely.”

  He paused, and his eyes gleamed in a way as recognizable as kee lust, “But that will not be for some time. We will be able to share the joy and strength-giving ritual many times before that day.”

  Ah. I had wondered why Mehmet hadn’t just drained me dry and lobbed my empty carcass at Sandu, and why he was taking all this time to “educate” me.

  I’m being wooed. This is quite ridiculous. I’ve already been wooed by one vampire. Now another is going well out of his way—by his lights—to do the same.

  I felt dangerously close to a fit of giggles. But while Sandu could handle my giggles, if impatiently, I knew the Mad Genie took this all far too seriously. I needed to restrain myself.

  “And,” he added, “you will do for al-jinn as you were to do for the ‘am’r.’ You will use your skills to catalog the many documents that prove we are the people of fire, not of clay from the sepulcher. I have of course proven it to many, but there are still more who need to see the truth. You will make these texts available to those who wish to learn. You have come to me just at the time when I needed you most, Naz hanım! Your abilities will be crucial to our task, and the loss of you crushes our adversaries at the very time when they most need to consolidate their strength! Seeing you at my side will be a blow for Kazıklı bey, and all those who ally themselves with him will see who has the truth and the real power!”

  Ah. He doesn’t love me, he just loves my Librarian-style.

  If I gave in to my overwhelming need to giggle now, it would end with me rolling on the floor, howling with laughter caused by the preposterousness of it all, combined with not being able to remember the last time I’d relaxed.

  Oh, right, it was while I’d been being sniffed in the baths. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to control myself and accidentally bit so hard I tasted blood. Shit! Now I’ve got to keep my mouth shut! What’ll happen if The Nose smells fresh blood?

  Happily, he was more than ready to fill in any conversational gaps. Indeed, his fondness for his own voice probably meant that not only did he not see me as lacking in social skills, but I was just the sort of person he liked talking to best of all.

  Maybe the barest whiff of the blood did get picked up by his well-endowed sniffer since he leaned close and stroked the bitten cheek. Or maybe it was just him feeling comradely from all the talk of our amazing strategic alliance and certain victory. That talk was entirely one-sided; obviously, he was taking my muteness as implicit agreement. I swallowed, an unconscious nervous reaction backed-up by a conscious desire to get the blood out of my mouth. He said, “Sevgili, when you are ready—when the hurts caused by the Wallachian monster who has caused so many such pain have healed—call out to me as you have called out once already, and I will come and share the fire in my blood with you. The scorching wind will cleanse you, and you will become one with us. With me.”

  The fire of zealotry raged in his metallic eyes. For a moment, he seemed a creature of fire, his dark-red hair burning in my peripheral vision. He was feeling lust. I felt nothing but terror.

  The moment was happily broken by Bat-Bitch sweeping into the cell, glaring at me. Her, I had not missed. “Fātiḥ, gel! Yanlış bir şey!” He looked at her, looked back at me, and with vampiric speed—that is, genie speed—they were gone.

  They did not, however, forget to close the door.

  I had a lot to work through. It was a pretty heavy trip the Mad Genie had just laid on me. Sadly, once it was safe to roll laughing on the floor, I no longer found anything to laugh about. I tried not to think about the hopelessness of me making it out of this situation alive since I sure as shit wasn’t going to let Mehmet do any of the things he wanted to do with me. I remembered the wonderful ways Sandu and I had shared blood. I was aroused by the memories and sickened by the thought of defiling them with Mehmet. Bouncing between those two extremes, I uneasily fell asleep.

  I was awakened by whispering. Sandu whispering. Sandu! I looked around wildly, and there he was, on the other side of the bars. I was up and over to him as fast as any am’r or jinn. I reached through as he did, and we grasped each other in a desperate, full-body hug. It probably looked pathetic, but I have never been happier to see anyone in my life.

  It was everything a reunited lovers’ embrace should be, except for the cold metal bars. At first they were no distraction at all, but after a while, they became bothersome since we could not get any closer with such a barrier in our way. I pulled back a little to look at his face. Sandu’s eyes glowed passionately gold-green at me. “I have missed every aspect of you, draga mea. I cannot stand to be separated from you. It has been torment. My anxiety for you has known no bounds, my frithaputhra.”

  “Sandu. Sandu! You’re here! Finally! Hey, what took you so long? I don’t even know how much time I’ve been here, but it’s been way too long. Mehmet is insane! Hey, what about the guard? He’s crazy too, and I think he really hates me now. We need to get out of here!”

  “Don’t worry about guards or anyone for a little while. I left them a distraction. Tell me what has gone on with you. Has he…has he...offended you? I smell his presence, but not...” Sandu’s voice trailed off, not sure how to phrase his question. I decided to let him off the hook.

  I knew who “he” was. I had no idea how many male genies were in this place, but for Sandu, there was only one to be worried about. “He hasn’t bitten me. He hasn’t tried. He says I must ask him, which is so never going to happen.” I summed up the Madness of King Genie in as short a description as possible for something so labyrinthine and abstruse. “And his hatred of you is shot all through this. He wants my turning to him—have I mentioned ‘never gonna happen?’—to be part of his destruction of you, although I don’t fully understand the details.”

  “Mehmet has become more irrational over the years since his vistarascha. He has never since been the enemy I once knew, but for many decades we have avoided each other, and I did not apprehend how things went with him. He was no danger to me, thus I did not care. But now he is a danger to us all.”

  “So why are we standing here? Get me out of here and away from these crazy-eyed genies!”

  “Oh, sufleţel, I am sorry. Bagamil thinks—and I agree—it would be best if they do not realize we are aware of their plans. I am only here to tell you what is going on, to keep you from despair, and in hopes that perhaps you can work with us from this side. And...I wanted to see you, to assure myself of your well-being, even though we were reasonably certain they would not harm you, at least not right away.”

  I didn’t like the “reasonably certain” or “at least not right away” bits, but there were bigger fish to fry. “You’re going to leave me here? What the fuck, Sandu? Why is that a good idea?”

  “If you are removed from this cell, Mehmet will know we know his plans—all he has told you, which you have just told me. It is important that he believes we are ignorant of them.”

  “Well, I think getting me out of here is just as important. Can’t we make it look like I escaped on my own?”

  Sandu looked unhappy. “Dragă Noosh, I am afraid it would not be believable. Can you tear these bars apart? Or, if you could find some other way to escape the cell, do you think you could escape without one of Mehmet’s followers finding you? If Mehmet came looking for you, do you think you could escape to me before he tracked you down by scent? No, you by yourself do not have the skills to elude capture, nor
the strength of a full am’r. If I took you from here, it would be clear that an am’r has done so and who the am’r was. Even if I was not leaving the spoor of my scent as we speak, they would know it was me who came for you.”

  I didn’t say anything. I thought my hero had come to rescue me, but it turned out he’d just come to say hi and then leave me in the lair of an insane vampire who thought he was a fucking genie and who wanted to use me in disgusting and evil ways.

  “Noosh,” Sandu said, in a soft, gentle tone that tugged at my heart even through my rush of resentment, “please, will you stay here and help us? If you say you cannot, I will take you from here, even if it destroys all our plans. But please consider before you choose.”

  Well, fuck. If he puts it like that, I have to stay. Da-da-da-DAH-dahdah: Super-Librarian to the rescue!

  “OK. I won’t be the one to ruin all your plans. I guess I have to stay.” I could say no more without bursting into tears. I snapped my lips together and tried to freeze my face.

  Sandu pulled me as close to him as far as the bars would allow and slid his arms warmly around me, giving me a sense of security I knew was false. I leaned in desperately, regardless.

  He spoke, low and urgent into my ear. “I feel certain Mehmet will move against us immediately. It is like him to take the offensive. He remembers when he was a brave and incisive ruler and warlord, and some part of him is still that man. Stay with him and keep learning his plans, and I will come for you at the most fitting time. Then we will never be separated again, sufleţel. But do not let him bite you, and do not share his vhoon, no matter what. I do not know if his madness would flow into you, but do not risk it.”

  “You don’t have to warn me,” I murmured. “I will avoid sharing his blood with every bit of strength in me.” I paused, then added, “Speaking of blood, are you OK? Do you need...some?”

  “I did not want to ask,” he said faintly. I had to replay his words in my head to make sure I’d heard him correctly.