Enchantress: A Novel of Rav Hisda's Daughter (58 page)

I suddenly felt dizzy. “You are certain?”

“It is she.” The raven could not have sounded more confident.

The other ravens proceeded to tell me where she lived, what she looked like, the occasional magic she still performed, and other information that erased any doubts I might have. Abruptly the birds flew up to the roof, and I turned to find a kitchen slave holding out a cup.

“Are you unwell, mistress?” She eyed the ravens with a mixture of awe and suspicion. “You’ve been out in the heat so long. I brought you a drink.”

I drank it down in one gulp. “Hurry, find your master and my son Chama. Bring them to me immediately.”

Chama got there first, and I told him I intended to follow the ravens to Zafnat’s location and challenge her. “I don’t care if summer’s heat is at its worst,” I said as he started to protest. “If I don’t go now, I may not have another chance.”

His eyes were focused on my hand. “You have a ring that allows you to converse with these birds.” It was a statement, not a question.

Recognizing that I had given myself away, I nodded. “You can see it? Ashmedai told me it was invisible while I wore it.”

He smiled wanly. “Ashmedai doesn’t know everything, especially when it comes to priestly magic.”

“That is the most encouraging thing I’ve heard in some time.”

“Mother, I urge you to wait. Keep yourself abreast of Zafnat’s movements, but don’t go until you are stronger,” he warned. “Still, if you persist, I will go with you.”

“This is my battle, not yours.”

“Where are you going and whom do you intend to battle?” Rava’s distinctive voice, heavy with suspicion and apprehension, called out behind us. “And why was I not informed?”

I explained everything again, including that I had called for him and Chama at the same instant. I finished by confronting him directly. “I must be strong and unshakable if I am to defeat Zafnat. Your distrust and disfavor will only hinder me.”

He blanched at my hard words but didn’t disagree. “How soon do you plan to depart?”

“I am not sure.” Already Chama’s anxiety was infecting me. “I must consult a Chaldean for the most auspicious time.”

 • • • 

I thought I was still dreaming when I woke the next morning to find Rava lying next to me.

As soon as he felt me stir, he said, “Dodi, I had an important dream last night.”

My heart began to pound. He hadn’t called me Dodi, “my beloved,” in months and now he was back in bed with me. I rolled over to face him. “Tell me.”

“My father came to me again, even angrier with me than last time. He chastised me for letting Ashmedai manipulate me like a puppet. How could I be so arrogant as to imagine that puny mortals like us could withstand the demon who defeated King Solomon, wisest of men? And whose greatest goal today is to defeat the Rabbis?” Rava paused before adding, “He continued to harangue me for some time, until I acquiesced.”

I had a sudden insight. “Ashmedai can see the future. He knows that without you, the
amei-ha’aretz
will never accept the Rabbis’ teachings. So he plots against you and I . . .” I paused, too flooded with remorse to continue. “I helped him.”

Rava pulled me close. “My father also showed me what would happen if you confronted Zafnat without me.” He didn’t have to tell me what he’d seen. The fear in his voice said it all. “I realized that if Lilith then appeared to me in your form, I wouldn’t have the strength to send her away either.”

I savored being in his arms again after so long. “Abba, I must fight Zafnat myself, without your help or Chama’s. The other
charasheta
will never respect me otherwise,” I said. “But I realize I cannot travel into the desert alone.”

“Dodi, this isn’t only your battle. It is mine too,” he reminded me. “Let me teach you more spells first. You are an expert at what you do, but nearly everything you’ve learned is for protection and healing. You need some offensive powers.”

I remembered how exciting it had been to teach him magic. Now I would be his student. I lifted my head to kiss him, and when our lips parted, I whispered, “When can we start?”

THIRTY-FIVE

THIRTIETH YEAR OF KING SHAPUR II’S REIGN
• 339 CE •

T
he Chaldeans advised me that the stars would be most propitious for our endeavor at the full moon following Sukkot. Rava made no secret of his relief, for he thought it would take at least that long to teach me what I needed to know. I was more relieved that I would be battling Zafnat after Yom Kippur, once I’d atoned for my sins and the Heavenly Court had inscribed me in the Book of Life.

Learning spells from Rava was an exhilarating experience. Since I was familiar with its contents, he concentrated on those from
Sepher ha-Razim
. He insisted I be proficient in the incantation that created a wall of flames that did not truly burn. Zafnat might realize it was an illusion, but it would frighten anyone with her. He then showed me the recipe for a potion that protected against an enemy’s arrows and other missiles, whether ordinary or magical.

But the spell we worked hardest on was one that invoked the angels of the Sixth Firmament to create the appearance of a large military escort, armed with swords and spears and all the implements of war, to accompany me until I released them. Between that and the wall of fire, Zafnat would most certainly be alone when I challenged her.

When the time came to leave, my ravens reported that Zafnat was still in the south. This meant revisiting my childhood home in Kafri, the city nearest the opening in Shapur’s wall that we would pass through. Neither of my brothers who’d resided there was still living, but their children welcomed us warmly. It was strange to see the place of my earliest memories through adult eyes; everything seemed smaller now. How long had it been since I’d slept on this roof or gazed out at the distant desert? Had it really been over fifty years?

Chama and I eagerly downed their freshly brewed beer, and though Rava didn’t match our enthusiasm, he earned my gratitude for not complaining. When we set off again, the two guides we hired undoubtedly considered us insane for bringing so little food, but the heavy purses we proffered convinced them to accompany us. We knew there was no need to weigh down our camels with provisions we could conjure ourselves.

Soon Kafri, and the wall that safeguarded it, was barely visible in the east. A jumble of feelings warred within me: happiness that Rava and I had reconciled, relief that my long quest had finally begun, and anxiety at how it would end.

Our guides’ eyes looked ready to jump out of their heads when I conjured bread and Rava a small calf for our first midday meal, and their looks of astonishment when they found our water bags full each morning guaranteed they would be recounting this tale for a long time.

We passed through the brown stubs of short-lived grasses that sprang up after winter rainstorms, then climbed gradually into an area of rocky plains and giant dunes. Unlike the desert I was used to, the sand here was a variety of red, brown, and purple hues, some looking uncomfortably like bloodstains. We crossed wadis and salt marshes, but saw no sign of water.

I was thankful for Solomon’s ring well before we encountered any hint of magic, for I was able to recognize, and have us avoid, quicksand, scorpion nests, and all sorts of nearly invisible dangers in our path. I could also detect cave entrances among the rocks, so we learned that the land under our feet contained myriad dark chambers and complex mazes, some filled with breathtaking crystalline structures. There we could sleep without fear of discovery.

 • • • 

Four days out, I began sensing occasional tingles of magic from the direction where the ravens had reported Zafnat’s presence. When I found a decent-size cavern, we stopped and anointed ourselves with the potion to guard us from missile attacks.

Then I addressed my husband and son. “I intend to vanquish Zafnat now and forever, but I prefer not to kill her.” Rava’s face hardened, but I continued before he could speak. “My mother told me that pulling out a
kashafa
’s front teeth makes it impossible for her to cast any spells, and I mean to leave Zafnat in that condition.”

Rava nodded in approval. “That is a better revenge than death.”

“How are we going to accomplish it?” Chama asked.

“I will have to find a way to capture her or render her unconscious.” I looked back and forth between them and said firmly, “Offer no assistance unless I have fallen.”

I waited until Rava and Chama reluctantly agreed, then embraced each of them long and hard. I was prepared to die to defeat Zafnat. I had lived a long and prosperous life, I had seen my children’s grandchildren, and I had attained my goal of becoming head sorceress. I had loved, and been loved by, two husbands.

Finally we were on the threshold of the great battle. Rava cautioned our guides to remain hidden until we returned, even for several days, and I cast the spell to conjure our illusory army. Perhaps King Solomon’s ring gave more power to my spells, but I was awestruck by my creation. Each soldier was unique, some on horseback and some on foot, and they even sounded like a legion on the move.

We set off, the three of us hiding in the midst of the host. Suddenly Chama pointed at what seemed to be a small sandstorm, but when I cast a spell to control the wind, nothing changed. It was only when we got closer that I realized the sandstorm was the result of people fleeing as we approached. Alas, I hadn’t anticipated that maintaining the magical army would be so tiring. Even wearing the ring, I knew I couldn’t continue it too much longer.

My confidence flagging, I called to Rava and Chama, “From now on, I must have absolute silence to aid my concentration.”

Rava blew me a kiss. “We will do nothing to distract you.”

Chama raised his fist as a challenge to our nemesis. “And we will not let you fall.”

I released the angels that sustained the illusion and thanked them when my strength returned. Now I could see where the ravens were circling. A small old woman stood there, and before I could finish saying, “Hot excrement in torn baskets in your mouth,
charasheta
,” flaming arrows and spears fashioned from sand were hurtling toward us.

I cringed in terror, but the potion was effective and, incredibly, the missiles swerved around us and into the desert. Another set of volleys suffered the same fate, and I began to breathe normally again when no more came. The ground we had to pass over was riddled with traps in addition to its natural hidden dangers. We approached cautiously until I saw that our opponent was indeed Zafnat, though she was now wrinkled and bent with age.

I prayed for strength to persevere and stood there, senses alert for the first frisson of dark magic. To cast the
tachim-tachtim
spell too early would be worse than useless; it would give her a few precious moments to attack while I was still reciting the ineffective incantation. Again the ring improved my natural abilities, so I knew I’d cast the spell perfectly—the moment she started her incantation, yet before she completed it.

 • • • 

That was the start of our
charasheta
duel. For hours we glared at each other in relative silence, saving our voices for spell casting. She had a seemingly inexhaustible store of dark magic with which to assault me, yet I was able to nullify it in time. Occasionally I found an opening to conjure the false fire against her, which drove her back until she dispelled it.

Day turned into night, then night into day, and neither of us could vanquish the other. I knew Zafnat was older than me, and should therefore have less stamina, but she had lived many years in the harsh desert while I led a life of comfort and ease. Still, I abstained from food and water twenty-five hours every year at Yom Kippur, so I felt confident I could continue several hours more without them. Yet eventually one of us would make a critical mistake.

Her spells were coming less frequently now, but I had no idea if that was because she was weakening or because she wanted me to think she was. Battle fever had kept me awake so far, but as the afternoon progressed I had to fight the lethargy that was making me less alert, slower to respond when she finally did cast a spell against me.

Which was why, as the sun began to set on the second day of our stalemate, she tricked me into making a near-fatal error. So far, I had countered her spells so quickly that I never knew what effect they might have had. But suddenly she moved so the sun was in my eyes and then sent a wall of flames rushing toward me. Not able to see clearly, I assumed this was the same illusion I’d used against her and stood my ground waiting for it to harmlessly pass by.

But it was real fire, and I barely had time to use Mother’s spell for extinguishing lamps. Even so my hair and clothes were singed, and Chama cried out in pain. Furious, I said incantations for igniting a lamp and the fire illusion, and sent both flames hurtling toward her. Unable to tell which fire was real, she delayed until her robe began to burn.