And the meddlesome brother became the Evil One, the master of djinn and ifrits and the patron of all sorcerers. El Murid railed against the practice of witchcraft with a vehemence his listeners found incomprehensible. His principal argument was that it had been sorcery that had brought on the doom of the Empire. The glory of Ilkazar, and a hope for its return, was a theme running through all his teaching.

The primary point of contention at El Aquila was a proscription against praying to the lesser gods. El Murids listeners were accustomed to petitioning specialists. They were accustomed, especially, to approaching Muhrain, the patron of the region, to whom the Al Ghabha Shrines were dedicated.

The boys path led him not to Al Ghabha but to the site where the imam, Ridyah, had found him. He did not at first know what drew him thither. Then he thought that he was looking for something.

He had left something there, something that he had forgotten. Something that he had hidden in his last moment of rationality. Something that had been given him by his angel.

Visions of an amulet came in snatches. A potent wrist amulet bearing a living stone. It would be, his angel had told him, the proof he needed to convince unbelievers.

But he could not remember where he had concealed it.

He scrabbled round the sides of the wadi that had prevented him from reaching El Aquila on his own.

What in the world are you doing? Nassef asked from above.

You startled me, Nassef.

Whatre you doing?

Looking for something. I hid it here. They didnt find it, did they? Did they find anything?

Who? The priests? Only a ragged, desert-worn saltmans son. What did you hide?

I remember now. A rock that looks like a tortoiseshell. Where is it?

Theres one over here.

The rock was just a yard from where al Assad had found him. He tried lifting the stone. He did not have the strength.

Here. Let me help. Nassef nudged him aside. In the process he tore his sleeve on a thorn of a scraggly desert bush. Oh. Mothers going to brain me.

Help me.

Father too, if he finds out I was here.

Nassef!

All right! Im here. He heaved on the rock. How did you move it before?

I dont know.

Together they heaved the stone onto its back. Nassef asked, Ah, what is it?

El Murid gently extracted the amulet from the rocky soil, brushing dirt from its delicate golden wristlet. The stone glowed even in the brilliant morning sun.

The angel gave it to me. To be my proof to the doubtful.

Nassef was impressed, though he seemed more troubled than elated. In a moment, nervously, he suggested, Youd better come on. The whole village is going to be at the Shrine.

They expect to be entertained?

Noncommittally, Nassef replied, They think its going to be interesting.