Chapter 17

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

Ezra was buried deep in one of Judah’s more recent work journals when there was a knock at the door. Her mind took a few moments to register the sound.

Judah had fallen deep into his own brilliant world since Ezra had been in Florence. He had become almost manic with his study, including translating an ancient Egyptian spell that had been discovered by an archaeologist friend of his in Edfu.

You could ask Zahir or Ashirah to tell you what it says.

The thought sent a magical twinge of excitement through her. Being friends with djinn could have some amazing benefits in her field of study. Maybe she wouldn’t be working in clubs forever. She had spent the morning doing her best not to think of Zahir and the night before. She had woken to breakfast and sunflowers, and her heart had...

Another bang at the door.

"Coming!" Ezra shouted and hurried through the house. She pulled open the door and found a tall blond-haired man waiting for her.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

His pale blue eyes lit up with warmth. He looked her over. "You are Ezra? I have been sent by Zachariah to assess where your studies are at." He had a thick accent that she didn’t recognize. He was polite enough not to storm in like Zachariah had, so Ezra tried for politeness.

"Sure, come on in," she said and let him through the wards. "Please excuse the mess in the study. My father was brilliant at many things, but housekeeping wasn’t one of them."

"I am yet to meet a neat genius," he replied. He was letting off a low magical hum, so Ezra knew he was a mage, but she couldn’t guess what he specialized in.

"I’ve been going through his recent work for the Cabal, trying to piece together the last six months and get into his head space," she said and blew out a frustrated breath. "He seemed to be less focused than usual."

"And the work on the golems?" he asked with a lift of an ashen brow. "The other shem didn’t work in your golem like Zachariah hoped."

"Damn, that changes things." Ezra hesitated. She might not be able to fool this man like she had Zachariah and the artist. "It’s hard to follow Judah’s train of thought. He seems to have scattered the work across three different journals and—"

Pain burst through Ezra’s nose, and she cried out in surprise and clutched at it. The mage followed up his strike with another to her right eye, and she sank to the floor.

"W-What the hell? I’m trying to help…" she said.

Blood was gushing out of her nose, and her eyes were watering. She needed to get up, but her head wasn’t clear enough. The mage kicked her hard, her rib cracking.

"I’ve been sent here to motivate you, Miss Eliyahu. You don’t seem to realize the urgency or the seriousness of your situation." The mage smiled down at her, and his wrists split open, bright magical ropes coming out of them. "But you will."

Ezra screamed as the ropes whipped out against her back, splitting the fabric of her shirt and bra and exposing her. She curled into herself, trying to hide her nakedness.

"S-Stop," she begged. The mage didn’t listen to her, and the whips came down again.

Ezra screamed with every strike. It could have lasted a minute or an hour. Her voice went hoarse. Everything was burning, and she couldn’t breathe.

"I’ll be back tomorrow. You had best get to work," the mage said, and then he was gone, the door shutting behind him.

"Help… Zahir…" Ezra cried, unable to move, her body shutting down.

Magic moved towards her like a vortex. It rolled towards her in a dark shape, blurred by her tears and blood. She held a shaking hand out to it. "Zahir…"

"Ezra?" a deep voice said then swore in another language. "It’s Asim. I’ve got you, sweet butterfly."

"Zahir," she sobbed.

"I’ll get you to him. It’s going to be okay," Asim promised. Ezra couldn’t feel her body as she was lifted up into the big djinn’s arms, and she cried out. "Hush, now. I’ll take you to the king. And the Creator help us all."