Tiger Thief (2 page)

Just then he heard a growl behind him.

“Emira?”

He glanced over. Then he stiffened. There was a man standing in the darkness next to the tiger’s cage.

“Hello?” he called out. “Who’s there? Is that you, Pias? Ram?”

As he spoke, Sharat felt something shift in the night air and his skin became clammy despite the heat. Just then he saw that the figure in front of him was dressed from head to foot in black. This wasn’t one of the circus crew. This was a stranger.

Trapped in her cage, Emira had drawn herself up to her full height with her ears pulled back. She bared her teeth and snarled. Sharat clenched his fists.

“Who’s that?” he called again, ready to fight.

There was no answer, but as the man turned, Sharat saw him more clearly. His hair was swept back in waves from his forehead, he had no beard and his face was deathly white, but even more frightening were his pale eyes, their colour indistinguishable in the starlight.

Sharat felt his stomach contract in fear. He stepped forward.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

The man in black didn’t reply. Instead, his mouth opened in a ghastly smile and the gap between his lips became as wide and black as the gates of death. He raised his staff.

A blast of scorching air engulfed Sharat. Wind whipped the hair around his face, and his limbs were pinned to his sides. For a horrible moment he thought he would be lifted off his feet, but just then Emira’s terrible roar shattered the whirlwind. In a flash, the man in black disappeared.

Sharat spun around, staring into the darkness. The harsh cry of a bird sounded overhead. For the briefest moment an enormous shadow blacked out the night, but nothing stirred on the ground.

Emira hissed. Her ears were flattened close to her head and the hair along the length of her spine bristled. She was frightened.

Sharat’s heart was pounding. This wasn’t the first time they’d had trouble. There had been other occasions when gangs of children had come to taunt Emira. Then, he’d been able to see them off with his whip. This stranger was something else.

He reached through the bars to stroke the tiger’s flank. “Did he hurt you?” he demanded.

Her growl was low and threatening.

With a quick glance to make sure the coast was clear, Sharat unlocked the cage and Emira jumped out to stand by his side, her tail trembling in fury as he wrapped his arms fiercely around her neck.

Sharat slowly relaxed, but he had no intention of putting Emira back in her cage.

“I don’t care what Lemo says,” he murmured into her fur. “You’re spending the night with me.”

A
s his feet touched the ground, Rookh’s wings disappeared and were replaced by a robe that fell in dark folds to the floor. He had landed in an open courtyard, but with a few long strides he stepped over the threshold into a dusty apartment and swept down a flight of stairs to an underground chamber.

It was as dark as a tomb, but at the click of his fingers flames sprang to life in the candelabra overhead, casting a thousand shadows on the vaulted ceiling above.

In a niche against one wall was a great stone urn. Rookh reached out to touch it. It was still warm.

“Casmerim.”

The name was soft and magical on his lips.

There was a portrait on the wall of a dark woman,
shaded by the spreading branches of a tree. He almost felt his heart ache.
Trapped in the dark, like a dead thing
. The thought rose unbidden in his mind.

He shuddered.

“So you thought you could trick me, did you?” he whispered, pressing his clenched fist against the unyielding stone of the urn. “Thought you could
escape
?”

There was no reply of course. Casmerim was asleep – would remain asleep for as long as Rookh required it. He couldn’t kill her. He’d tried. All he could do was make sure that she never woke to see the light of day.

Fury gnawed at his belly. Of course he knew he shouldn’t feel betrayed. What else could he have expected? That she would thank him for kidnapping her and making her his queen? No. She’d been a queen already. Queen of the Forest. Queen of the Jinnis. Queen of Aruanda. Until he’d taken her power and made her his slave. His prisoner. His wife.

Drawing back his shoulders, his eyes flickered by the light of the flames. He thought he heard a sigh from deep inside the urn, but he didn’t open the lid in case she woke and looked back up at him with pity in her eyes.

“You’ll never escape me now,” he warned the woman in the picture. “Not now I know your plan.”

It had been the Queen’s fragrant handmaid who’d told him. Taunting him with her secret.

“You think you’re so powerful, enslaving all the jinnis,” she’d said. “But you didn’t get us all. There was one who escaped you.”

Rookh had stiffened. “Who?” he’d demanded.

“He’s called the Prince of Jinnis,” whispered the slave. “Nobody knows where he is. Some say he lies sleeping deep below the city. Others claim he still lives in Aruanda. Or it may be that he walks the earth, protected by magic from knowing eyes. But wherever he is, when the time is ripe, a white tiger will lead him back to the City of Jewels to free the Queen of the Forest. And when that happens, the Empire will fall, and you will fall with it.”

A prophecy, spells, jinni magic. Rookh was a stranger in this land, but he was inextricably tied up in it all. After all, it was he that had enslaved the Queen and her people, but he was also a man of science, of reason. Surely he could change his fate. Why should he wait until this jinni prince came to destroy him?

“Is there nothing I can do?” he’d asked.

The handmaid’s eyes had glittered. She was no friend of the Queen of the Forest.

“To keep your empire safe you must find the tiger,” she’d said. “Only then can you stop the hidden prince from fulfiling his destiny.”

In perfumed whispers she had told him what to do. Sweetening her words with kisses. He’d almost forgotten Casmerim.

Now, he looked at the picture again. Such beauty. Such strength. Such innocence. And yet, to him, she’d been as cold as ice. He felt his heart contract.

“I’ll catch this hidden prince, just like I caught you,” he swore. “He’ll be my slave like all the rest.”

And what then?
whispered the voice that came from deep inside him.
You already own the Empire
.

A familiar hunger gnawed at Rookh’s heart.

“Then I’ll conquer the world,” he hissed in answer to his own question. “Every jewel, every ounce of gold, every man, woman and jinni that walks the earth will be mine!”

S
harat woke early the next day to the sound of holy men calling the faithful to morning prayers. Next to him Emira lay purring in her sleep. Yawning, he squeezed his eyes shut and burrowed his head into her soft fur, but it was no use. Before long a rooster began to crow and soon a pack of dogs joined in with the dawn chorus.

Sharat opened his eyes. Grey light had started appearing through cracks in the tent. With a sigh he wriggled out from between Emira’s paws, wrapped a cloth around his waist and slipped outside.

It was a cool morning, but the sky was brightening fast and the sinister events of the previous night seemed unimportant in the light of day.

There was a trumpeting noise, followed by the sound
of splashing. The circus elephants were washing while the rest of the crew still snored in their beds.

Hacking open a coconut, Sharat gulped down its juice and scooped the meat into his mouth. Then, tossing aside the shell, he went down to the river to wash.

Tara the she-elephant lay on her side with her eyes blissfully shut while Hussein, the
mahout
, scrubbed her down with a stiff brush. Nearby, Baba the bull-elephant wallowed in the shallows, waiting for his turn. Next to them lay the last of the bananas.

Hussein had been an army
mahout
for years, training elephants for the old Emperor, but tiring of battles and blood he’d left the army long ago to join the circus. He was Lemo’s oldest friend.

“Good morning!” called Sharat as he reached out and stole a banana.

Baba trumpeted, and Tara opened her eyes to wink at him.

The
mahout
looked up. He was bald and stocky, and his scalp was dented with scars. A slow smile spread across his face.

“There you are!” he said. “What happened to you last night? I wanted to congratulate you. You saved Risa’s life!”

Sharat grinned. “I’m glad
somebody
noticed.”

“It was difficult to miss,” replied Hussein. “Risa owes you one.”

Sharat gave a short laugh. “Tell that to Pias,” he said. “He thinks
I
was the one that untied the trapeze.”

Baba blew a raspberry.

Hussein laughed, but there was a look of concern in his eyes. “Did you?” he asked.

“Of course not,” said Sharat, rolling his eyes. “Pias is an idiot.”

Hussein sat back on his heels as he studied Sharat. The boy had a wide face and his hair hung carelessly over his skinny shoulders. In many ways he looked like a typical circus child, and yet there was something different about him – something about his eyes.

“In that case, what did happen with the trapeze?” he asked.

Sharat hesitated, wary of his promise to his father.

“It’s all right, you can tell me,” said Hussein. “Lemo told me you saw something in the rigging.”

Sharat couldn’t help feeling relieved. “I did see something,” he admitted. “But I’m not sure what it was.”

“What did it look like?”

Sharat frowned. “It was small and black,” he said. “At first I thought it must be a monkey, but it didn’t move like a monkey. It didn’t
look
like a monkey either.” He paused. “Ram said it might be a
jinni
.”

He was expecting Hussein to scoff and dismiss the suggestion, but instead a look of worry crossed his face.

“A jinni?” he said. “Of
course
.”

Sharat looked at him in surprise. “Do you think it really
was
a jinni?” he asked.

Hussein nodded slowly. “It could well have been. After all, this place was once called the City of Jinnis.”

Sharat felt a thrill of fear. “Why was it called
that
?”

Hussein lowered his voice. “They say that long ago, before men took over, jinnis ruled this land,” he said. “Then when people began to live here the name stuck. It was only changed when they cut down the forests to mine for jewels.”

Sharat nodded. He knew about the jewels. Thanks to the mines, the City of Jewels was the capital of the richest empire in the world.

“But why would a jinni want to untie Risa’s trapeze?” he asked.

Hussein hesitated. “I can’t say for sure,” he said, “but there are dark forces at work in this city. It was very different the last time we were here. The old town used to be famous for its gardens, and there were forests as far as the eye could see.” He shook his head sadly. “Now look at it.”

Sharat glanced at the wastelands surrounding the city. For the first time he noticed that there wasn’t a single tree on the horizon.

“What happened?” he asked.

“All I know is that there was some kind of revolution,” Hussein told him. “I just hope we didn’t make a mistake coming back.”

Sharat shifted uneasily. “What do you mean?”

Hussein shook his head. “It’s an old story,” he said. “Perhaps it’s best not to talk about it.”

“You have to tell me now!” protested Sharat.

Hussein sighed. “I suppose it does concern you,” he
said. “It’s about Emira.”

“Emira?” Sharat frowned. “What’s she got to do with it?”

“Emira comes from the City of Jewels,” explained Hussein. “Someone gave her to Lemo the last time we were here.”

Sharat shrugged. “So what?”

“When we were given Emira for the circus, it was on one condition,” Hussein told him. “Lemo had to promise never to come back.”

Sharat felt his skin prickle. “Why?”

“I’m not sure,” said Hussein. He hesitated. “I have to admit that I’ve always wondered whether Emira was stolen.”

“
Stolen?
” Sharat looked at Hussein in alarm. “What makes you think that?”

“Emira came to the circus at the beginning of the revolution,” Hussein told him. “It’s possible she may have belonged to one of the noble families who were in power before the Empire. A prince maybe, or a princess. They like to have exotic pets.”

Sharat felt the stirrings of fear. It had never occurred to him that Emira might have belonged to anyone else.

“So do you think that what happened in the rigging was some kind of revenge?” he asked.

“Perhaps,” said Hussein. “Or it could have been a warning.” He shook his head. “Either way, I don’t like it.”

With a shiver, Sharat thought about the man in black.
Was
he
Emira’s real owner?

“Why did Lemo break his promise?” he asked.

“Money,” Hussein told him. “We can make more in one night performing for the Emperor than we’d make in one week on the road.”

“But why do we need so much money?”

Hussein sighed. “Lemo’s a great showman, but he’s not the best businessman,” he said. “Recently Pias threatened to take Emira and give her to Ram, unless Lemo found a way to pay him.”

Sharat felt fury rising up inside him. “Ram can’t take Emira, she mine!” he said.

Hussein nodded. “That’s what Lemo told him,” he said, “but Pias disputes your rights.”

Sharat pressed his lips together. He knew Hussein was referring to his birth. Lemo hadn’t been married to his mother, and Pias never let him forget it. Not that it mattered. His mother had died in childbirth.

Feeling anxious, he stood up. “I think I’d better go and check on Emira,” he said.

“Good idea,” said Hussein. “I’m sure things will be fine if you keep an eye on her. After all, it was a long time ago.”

Bending down, he started scrubbing Tara again. The elephant’s ears flapped appreciatively. Then she lifted her trunk and reached back, gently caressing the top of his bald head. The
mahout
pretended not to notice, so Tara lifted her trunk and blew Sharat a noisy kiss instead.

Sharat couldn’t help laughing. Still, Hussein’s words
had disturbed him. He’d better put Emira back in her cage before Lemo found out she was missing.

He hurried back up towards the campsite.

“Get up, you lazy beast!” he called once he reached the tent. But, as he stuck his head through a flap in the canvas his heart dropped. There was no sign of the tiger.

He spun round in alarm.

“Emira?” he called, his voice sharp. “Emira! Where are you?”

There was no reply.

Trying to stay calm, Sharat ran swiftly around the campsite, whistling and calling as he checked the tents and caravans, but Emira was nowhere to be seen. With a growing sense of panic, he stopped and looked out at the city and beyond. His tiger
always
came when he called her. Where could she be?