Vial of Tears by Cristin Bishara

Author:Cristin Bishara [Bishara, Cristin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Holiday House
Published: 2021-10-05T00:00:00+00:00

13

A musical instrument plucked out a single flat note, and then Teth slammed a fist into a table, sending food everywhere.

“No!” he roared, his head thrown back. “Meem!”

He smacked his hands to his temples and pulled at his hair, wailing. Screams and gasps spread through the crowd as Eshmun took the stage, standing above everyone with raised hands.

“Stay calm,” he said. “There is nothing to fear here.”

But Teth’s cries had turned to low, guttural moans. Sam shuddered, watching him sprout fangs, still tearing at his head as if he could rip the news away. A storm of panic was brewing. Sam could sense it all around her—the words ḥayuta, tannîyn, murder, Kition, and gihannā ran through the street like currents of electricity, charged and ready to catch fire.

Teth’s shirt split along his spine and his pants ripped across his thighs as he morphed. All signs of his human shape were disappearing. His nose was a snout, his ears had shifted to the top of his head. Saliva dripped from the corners of his black lips, his canines growing longer.

The little girl with the ponytail—the one who’d admired Sam’s ring—slipped her hand inside a woman’s, and the two of them hurried off, the girl’s rose-colored dress fading into the crowd. One by one, people turned away, trading horrified glances. Their fast footfalls made a pattering noise like rain.

Sam whispered his name—“Teth”—as if she could bring him back. But he stood on his hind legs and roared. Sam winced and covered her ears, tears streaming from her eyes. Plates and goblets crashed to the ground as he barreled away in an anguished rage. “Teth!” she cried after him.

“Stay calm!” Eshmun again shouted out to the crowd. “You are safe here in Sidon!”

The party broke up as quickly as it had come together. Tables and chairs disappeared from the street, one by one, until it was empty again. An overturned cart lay on its side like a slain beast; from its bed, cracked melons spilled, wet and full of seeds. Sam could hear doors locking, the sound of metal bars sliding into place. Even the makeshift stage had already been disassembled.

It was as if the party had never happened.

Someone handed Sam her bag with the frying pan still heavy inside. She looped it over her shoulder as she navigated around the shards of a broken bowl and a splintered chair, trying to catch up with Eshmun.

“You were close behind us,” he was saying to Ushu. “When did this happen?”

“We were joined by Addir, the falcon, who flew to us and then went his own way afterward,” she said. “He brought the news. The ruḥā of Meem haunts her parents’ home. She hovers at their doorstep.”

“Who has done this?” Eshmun asked.

“We know not,” Ushu said. “A neighbor said she heard a man’s voice demanding the shoes.”

“Shoes?” Eshmun asked, bewildered.

“Shoes,” Ushu repeated, as if Eshmun should know, as if there were only one pair of shoes she could possibly be talking about. She fanned her fingers nervously across her wide hips.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.