“Omar?” Aisha murmured at the same time Loulie thought, The Queen of Dunes.
Loulie rushed up the staircase, all the while thinking of the woman from the painting, the one with the ghoulish white skin and the black holes for eyes. The Queen of Dunes. Old Rhuba’s tale of the jinn queen poured through her mind like quicksand.
The Tale of the Queen of Dunes
Neither here nor there, but long ago…
There once lived a slave named Naji, who was indentured to a cruel merchant. Every day and night, Naji suffered at his hands, for he beat her ruthlessly and without reason. She spent many torturous years serving him until one day, she fled in the middle of a sandstorm. She ran until she could run no more, then collapsed in a secluded valley and prayed to the gods for help.
Much to her surprise, one of the gods responded and, in a silk-soft voice, goaded her farther into the valley, to a wondrous palace concealed behind a veil of sand. Naji was so starstruck she forgot her exhaustion and explored the palace with the giddy innocence of a child. Eventually, she came to a throne room that was so filled with splendid décor it made even her master’s wealth pale by comparison.
At the back of the room was a beautiful throne, and sitting atop it was a woman with porcelain-white skin and midnight-black eyes. “Welcome, my esteemed guest!” she cried, and Naji recognized the voice that had led her to the palace. “Please, stay and rest awhile, habibti. I will prepare food and entertainment for you.”
Naji was so grateful she could have cried. But no sooner had she beheld the performers than her good cheer vanished, for what she saw was a mockery of life. The dancers were nothing but human shells with hollow eyes. Like puppets, they danced and sang on the command of Naji’s hostess.
When they were done, Naji collapsed to her knees and clasped her hostess’s cold hands. “You have been so very kind to me, sayyidati, but I must beg your leave. I am being chased by a dangerous man, and I do not want to bring him to your palace.”
“Do not worry for me, child. I fear no man. No, it is they who fear me.” Her hostess smiled warmly. “Would you like me to dispose of this monster for you?”
Naji was so in awe of her hostess’s courage that she forgot about her unnatural performers. “Could you truly stop him from pursuing me?”
“Oh, I can do that and much more! I can make all your wishes come true, even the impossible ones.” Her dark eyes glittered with distant stars. “Of course, all wishes have a price. In order for me to perform such a feat, I will require something from you.”
Naji was so desperate she immediately lowered her head and asked how she could serve.
This is what her hostess told her: “In order to perform my magic, I must leave this place, and for that I require your body.” She lifted a circlet of golden bones from her head and handed it to Naji. “Clasp this around your neck, and I shall give you the power to destroy your nightmares.”
Naji did as commanded, and while her hostess withered away to smoke and ash, Naji was filled with a fearsome, terrible power. Her hunger and thirst vanished, replaced by an insatiable desire for revenge. She returned to the desert, traveling miles until she reached the campsite of her cruel master. He had hired mercenaries to help track Naji down and was shocked when she appeared before them.
“So you’ve returned, slave!” The merchant approached, holding a whip. “Will you beg me for forgiveness, or will I have to punish you?”
Naji raised her head and looked her former master straight in the eyes. “I will never beg you for forgiveness again.” She lifted her arms and called to the dark magic in her veins.
Creatures made of torn flesh and bone answered her call, emerging from the sand with howls of rage. When the merchant and his men fled, the ghouls chased after them like hounds, breaking their bones and shredding their hearts. Afterward, Naji called the creatures back to her. She was shocked when the corpses of the slain men rose and shambled toward her too.
She stepped back with a cry. “What foul magic is this?”
Her hostess laughed inside her mind and said, “My dear girl, this is the magic of the Queen of Dunes. My magic. And now that I am free, you have unleashed it upon the world.”
Naji had never known a fear as deep as the one she felt then, for the Queen of Dunes was no mortal woman; she was one of the seven jinn kings. She tried to pry the circlet of bones from her neck, but to no avail. The Queen of Dunes laughed. “Our deal is not yet done, habibti. I have destroyed your nightmares, so now you are obligated to hand your body over to me. Do not mourn, dear girl! Together, we will be indestructible.”