Beyond the Veil

☼ Fourth Sun ☼

The herd of Al-Kehilan led the way through the endless sea of dunes toward the meeting place. Their matron djinn blessed their mares with divining hooves—wherever they sought to go, they knew which direction it was in. Neither blinding sun nor howling wind nor biting sand could keep the herd from traversing ar-Rub Wafir safely.

As they walked, stallions and mares were already beginning to mingle well ahead of the appropriate time. Last year, Aisha found herself with the attention of no less than three stallions during the journey; this year, she was guarded by the presence of the stallion she now knew as Ghalib bin Halimah. No others approached with him at her side.

"There are several eligible mares in my herd," Aisha commented, keeping her gaze straight ahead, though she found herself wanting to look up at him. "Are you not going to introduce yourself to them as well?"

A chuckle rumbled deep within his chest. "I am currently pleasantly occupied with the one at my side. My only interest at this moment is learning more about you."

"She's loud," Nawar chimed, darting between their legs and squealing when Aisha stomped a threatening hoof.

"And mean," Zahra exclaimed as she chased after her twin.

Ghalib watched the fillies before inclining his head and asking with a teasing lilt to his voice, "And I suppose she snores?"

Aisha's eyes widened. "I do no—"

Nawar trotted backwards in front of Ghalib, beaming up at him. "Every night!"

"And smells?" Ghalib grinned down at her.

"Every day!" Zahra frolicked ahead of them, her hooves kicking sand haphazardly into the air.

Aisha lowered her head and felt her muscles twitch with the urge to chase them down. "I swear to Al-Seglawi," she started, but was cut off by a whole-hearted laugh from Ghalib. She looked over at him in surprise, anger swept away by confusion. "Ghalib?"

"Forgive me," he managed through his laughter. "I can't contain myself! Your sisters are a delight, but more so is your reaction." He shook his head and heaved a sigh, the sound somewhere between amused and whimsical. "I hope it is I who catches you," he continued more evenly, the shimmering white tassels that hung from his decorative harness catching in the wind. "I would be honored to be your stallion."

Aisha's ears swiveled back and her nostrils flared. "And why is that?"

Ghalib blinked at her, tilting his head to one side. "You are a beautiful and interesting mare. Why would any stallion turn his eyes away from you?"

"Not—" An unfamiliar, uncomfortable heat spread across her face, so she frowned. "Not that! I mean, why do you wish to be any mare's stallion? Do you not hope for more out of your life than that?"

His brow arched. "More than a happy life with a beautiful wife? I should think myself greedy and foolish if I couldn't be content with that. Any stallion would!"

Aisha looked away from his smoldering gaze to find reprieve from how hot her face still felt. "I think you're a fool to be content with such an ordinary life."

With a light grin on his muzzle, his left brow rose to meet the other high on his forehead. "And what would you suggest instead, then?"

Her hooves scuffed the sand as her breath caught in her throat. There was a mix of emotions surging within her—a wary excitement that was tempered by uncertainty and doubt.

"More than a marriage," she finally said, glancing up to gauge his expression. His curiosity was piqued, so she pressed, "A true partnership, as equals. If you are to work, then I am to be at your side."

"At my side!" he repeated in a half-whinny, half-laugh. "Of course, I can see it now: you, harvesting ore half your own weight." There was a pause before the grin on his muzzle flattened into a straight line. "By Al-Kehilan, you're serious? But it's your right to be taken care of! I am not the one who bears life."

Aisha's uncertainty was washed away by a fresh gust of confident air. She held her head high and allowed the wind to flow freely through her braided mane. "I'm not weak. I don't fear labor. Why should I remain in camp when I can be of actual use?"

For a while, they walked with silence between them, though the air was full of life. All around them was the sound of movement, of conversation, of excitement. Finally, Ghalib's voice tore through the tension like rolling thunder.

"I don't understand you at all." He smiled. "But I would still like to chase you, if you can be content with an 'ordinary' life as my wife."

The muscles along her neck twitched in a swell of irritation and she started to move more briskly up the dune. "Chase me?" Her tail flicked. "Certainly. But whether you will catch me or not remains to be seen."

He chuckled at what she assumed he interpreted as playing coy; she was not, but it was of no consequence to her what he thought now. They had arrived at the flat expanse of sand that was sheltered from wind and sun by a towering ridge of sparse mountains: the sacred meeting place where new bonds would be formed with the blessings of the Djinn.

A large obelisk made of weathered grey stone jutted out of the sand to designate an order to the chaos that was hundreds of horses all gathered together in one location. Its five faces were each inscribed with the symbol of the Djinn they represented, silently observing as their respective herds set up open-air canopies for the Souq al'Khetbah.

At the exciting sight of it all, Aisha ran ahead, breaking away from the group without regard for her mother's voice calling after her. She wove between the crowd of horses from each herd that were already well-engaged in bartering and haggling over the wares strewn across colorful blankets.

"Two lengths of the green cloth for a pouch of sweet almonds is more than a fair trade!" a mare exclaimed, her ears pinned back with indignation.

Aisha heard the stallion laugh in response, but she kept moving forward without regard for how the deal continued. The heat of bodies pressed so close together was almost worse than the sun itself, especially with the cacophony of scents that assaulted her nose.

Finally, she arrived where the obelisk indicated was the herd of Al-Abeyan, the Sowers of the Sand. Though the sight of their bountiful crops on display tugged at her stomach, she followed her heart straight to—

"Jabir!" Aisha cried out when she saw her brother standing amongst the other Al-Abeyan horses, a tall and imposing figure of white, grey, and a whole lot of muscle.

He turned in the direction of her voice and smiled when their eyes met. "Aisha, okhti al-saghira!" He trotted forward to meet her halfway, lowering his head to brush his neck against hers. "Look at you. You almost look like a proper mare."

Aisha gave a playful nip of his grey-speckled shoulder before she pulled back to look up at him, brow arched. "I am a proper mare."

Jabir returned her look with a grin. "I'll believe that when I no longer see you in the Khetbah garb."

Her stomach tightened into a knot and she shook her head to chase away the topic. "Yes, yes. How is Daniyah?"

"Eager as ever," he replied with a whimsical sigh, his head inclining to look past her at the bustling crowd. "She's hoping to get new dye at a discount from Ummi." His ears perked as his gaze fell to meet hers again. "Did the pregnancy go well? Who is my new little sibling?"

It was rare that her brother could sour her mood, so she made no effort to hide the displeasure her expression cast. "Daniyah will need all the luck she can get, then. Your new little siblings—"

"Siblings!" Jabir's grin grew to its full force and his gaze darted away again. "Ummi had twins? Twins? I must meet them, where are they?" There was a pause before he frowned down at her. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Aisha rolled her eyes. "Because Nawar and Zahra are constant thorns in my side. Basma was so sweet when she was a child; why are these two so annoying?"

"I suppose for the same reason that you were when you were their age," Jabir teased with no malice in his voice. "Every foal is different." He relaxed into a sigh, shaking his head as he chuckled. "Twins, though! I haven't heard of twins being born in quite some time. Ummi must be proud."

With a disgruntled snort, Aisha shifted her attention to hoof at a nearby head of cabbage that sat on display. "Proud doesn't begin to cover it. Unless Daniyah has something to trade that Ummi can waste on the little weeds, she won't be getting anything from us."

Jabir threw his head back as he laughed, the sound deep and somehow comforting. She missed his laughter. "You must not remember when you were young, then. That is how Ummi has always been."

There was, for a moment, an odd feeling of uncertainty buzzing in her mind. She didn't remember being spoiled the way Sahar treated the twins, but she could recall how Basma was doted upon, showered in gifts when she expressed an interest in dancing.

She turned her head away to look at all the horses around her haggling, laughing, and reuniting. The Souq al'Khetbah was a time for trading for the coming season, but it was also a time for families to see the stallions who had married into other herds.

A voice in particular cut above the noise all around them. "Jabir bin Sahar!"

Aisha tensed and she took a few steps to the side, glancing between her brother and the mare he used to love: Madhi bint Amna al-Seglawi. She was a rare beauty, with a coat almost as dark as the kohl that adorned her long and narrow face.

As she walked toward them, a few tresses of her lush blonde mane spilled out from beneath her black-and-red headdress. Even Aisha had to admit that Madhi was a breathtaking sight.

"Madhi," Jabir said with fondness in his voice. "It's always good to see you."

"And you." She pressed her nose to his in a brief greeting. "Do you remember my younger sister, Nazli?" A proud smile spread across her elegant muzzle. "She has already been courted by four stallions, and the Souq has only just begun."

Jabir chuckled, shaking his head. "I remember our Khetbah. The evil eyes cast your way from jealous mares is something I will never forget."

There was a pause, only long enough for Aisha to feel the tension that held the air in its tight grip before it was carried away by a gust of wind.

"I must go help my mother, but I wanted to say hello." Madhi nosed him again, pausing to look down at Aisha with fleeting recognition before she simply smiled and walked away.

Aisha bit the inside of her cheek as she shuffled closer to Jabir. "I'm so sorry," she said in a quiet voice meant only for the two of them.

Jabir blinked down at her. "For what?"

"That Sheikha Wardee wouldn't bless your union with Madhi." Aisha looked away from him, unable to stare into those endlessly kind eyes. "It's unfair to have forced the two of you to marry others simply because you came from the same herd."

To her surprise, Jabir laughed—another full-bodied laugh that held him far longer than Aisha thought necessary. He finally regained enough of his senses to sputter, "Oh, Aisha—Oh, okhti al-saghira, you're so—so naïve."

Aisha's ears flattened against her braided mane. "Excuse me? I'm not naïve! It's plain as the wind itself that you still love each other!"

"And that is why you're naïve," he said, heaving an amused sigh and shaking his head. "Daniyah is more than my wife. She is my perfect match."

"But—" Aisha frowned. "But Madhi, she—"

Jabir smiled, a chuckle rumbling in his throat. "She was the mare I thought I loved, yes. And when Sheikha Wardee told us that Al-Seglawi saw different paths for us, I wept. I prayed each night for Al-Seglawi to change her mind and allow us to wed, herd be damned."

His eyes softened as he looked out into the crowd where, somewhere, his wife went about her business. "And then I met Daniyah. She was everything that Madhi was not—shy, uncertain, quiet—and I thought that was the best I could hope for: to marry someone who would not remind me of my lost love. Instead, I found everything I never knew I wanted. Everything I didn't understand I needed."

Aisha dropped her head and stared down at their hooves. His were large and rough around the edges from the work he had done as a stallion of Al-Seglawi; hers were small and, by comparison, pristine.

"Each time I look at my wife, I thank the Djinn for those unanswered prayers." Jabir's right foreleg raised and he tapped the underside of her muzzle, and she looked up to see a smile on his face. "I was young and thought I knew everything, but Al-Seglawi saw what I could not. Have faith that she sees the right path for you, too."

Something heavy settled in her chest—something between doubt and indignation. "But how do you know you wouldn't have been happier with Madhi?"

Jabir's gentle smile grew to a lopsided grin. "Because when I saw her just then, my first thought was, 'Oh, no, what is her name again?'"

Aisha sputtered into a startled laugh and moved forward to hook her neck around his. "As long as you're happy, akhi al-kabir. I should go take my scolding from Ummi for not helping set up our tents for the Souq." She rolled her eyes, starting to turn away when he stopped her with a gentle press of his forehead to hers. "What?"

"I pray that the Djinn will send your perfect match to you this Khetbah," he said with so much sincerity in his voice that she felt her heart break. "And I hope this prayer will not be one that goes unanswered."

'It will,' she wanted to say, but the words were stuck in her throat. Instead, she offered a small nod of her head and a flash of a smile before retreating from his presence. Normally, he was a comfort to her, true to his name—now, however, she felt suffocated.

Aisha hurried to put some distance between herself and the smothering warmth of her brother's affection. She was soon enveloped by the crowd and, despite the cacophony of sight, sound, and smell all around her, felt disconnected from it all.

Off to her right, she spied her mother at a stall, bartering with an Al-Kehilan stallion for a length of purple silk. It was most definitely a purchase for the twins. Their very existence seemed to captivate nearly all of the love Sahar had to give.

Likely at their father's side was Basma, who held whatever was left of their mother's affection because she would walk the path their parents expected of her, that their entire herd expected of her. She was dutiful and obedient—everything Aisha was not.

And then, straight ahead of her, she met the intense gaze of Ghalib. She realized, in that moment, that he was going to chase her when the Khetbah began. Was this what Al-Seglawi wanted of her? Was he the path she was supposed to walk?

A mare in a hurry bumped into her, pulling her out of her mind and back into her body. She discovered that her mouth was achingly dry, tongue swollen and throat tight. With a quick shake to clear her thoughts, she turned and started toward where the monument face marked with the symbol of three water drops indicated.

There was a single canopy of deep blue, stretched out to shelter the mares and stallions of Al-Hamdani that were huddled together around several barrels. Their fierce and stalwart protection of the water that was their sacred charge was, in equal parts, admirable as well as unnerving.

"Excuse me," Aisha said in a soft voice, giving a quick bow of her head. "May I have a drink?"

The nearest horse to her, a diminutive mare of dark brown and black , flashed a hollow smile. "Heat already gotten to you? I thought those of Al-Seglawi would be more accustomed to life toiling under the sun." She inclined her head to the side. "And what do you have to give in return?"

Aisha swore under her breath as she looked down at herself. With an uncertain smile, she raised her hoof to indicate the layers of cloth that covered her. "Would some of my shroud be of interest to you?"

"What use would I have for it?" the mare said with a biting laugh. "That would hardly keep me warm underground."

"Leilah," a stallion chided, and the familiarity of his voice sent a chill down Aisha's spine. "Take the trade. She is a poor Khetbah mare; she needs her strength to ensure herself a stallion."

Aisha glanced up at him, doing her best to look grateful instead of showing the fear that quickened her heart. His eyes of piercing blue seemed less intense above ground, but she knew them nonetheless; however, the lack of recognition in his face soothed her nerves.

"Thank you," she said in a soft tone as Leilah lifted a ladle in her mouth while the stallion removed the barrel's lid. As they poured a bowl of water for her, Aisha tugged one of the lengths of sheer cloth from her foreleg and held it out.

Leilah begrudgingly accepted, then dipped the tip of her hoof into the bowl. Its surface rippled before going completely still as the simple touch chilled the water, then she nudged it forward.

"Drink," she commanded, looking at the shroud in disapproval as the stallion wrapped it around her neck.

As Aisha dipped her head to press her lips into the cool water, she looked up at the pair through her lashes. The gentle touch of the stallion's nose against Leilah's neck softened her expression. The moment was so brief and yet so intimate that Aisha couldn't help but wonder: if she kept running, would she never have what they had? What her brother had? Was love truly worth the loss of her freedom?

An uncomfortable feeling started to constrict her chest, so Aisha hurriedly lapped up the remaining drops before straightening up. "Thank you," she repeated, then backed away and turned to look out into the lively Souq once again with fresh eyes.

Aisha wandered through the crowd, looking at everything the various herds had brought to trade. Sahar hadn't given her any of their family's share of the dyes, but she would be livid if Aisha gave away any more of her garb, so she could only shop with her eyes.

There were fine silks and linens of all styles, colors, and patterns on display in one of the Al-Kehilan tents. Another assailed her nose with its variety of spices and herbs that filled the air with their pungent scents. Paired with the yelling of mares and stallions bartering back and forth, Aisha felt her head swimming.

She quickened her pace to make it into the section of the marketplace occupied by the herd of Al-Hadban, the Keepers of the Sun. Aisha sucked in and released a breath to clear the smells from her lungs, then smiled as her surroundings glittered back at her in the stray beams of sunlight.

Jewelry of silver and gold sat in bright brilliance against the muted colors of the rugs beneath them. Between gaps in the bustling crowd, she caught sight of necklaces in a variety of shapes and sizes. Some were thin chains while others were large pieces of metal flattened into different designs, but all were equally beautiful.

"Aisha!" Basma's honeyed voice cut through the noise. Aisha looked in its direction to see her sister struggling to push past the press of bodies that separated them.

There was no hesitation as Aisha shoved her way through to get to Basma, nuzzling her cheek when they were finally together. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be with Adil at the stall."

Basma offered a sheepish smile. "Abi knew I really wanted to watch a sun dance, so he let me slip away."

With a hum of understanding, Aisha shouldered through the crowd with force to lead the way for Basma. The sound of rhythmic clicking and awed gasps was their guide to find an Al-Hadban mare performing the dance Basma loved most of all.

The mare was fully garbed in the traditional attire of dancers, with rows of tassels dangling from each piece. It was all dyed a bright, vibrant red and adorned with golden metalwork to jingle with each movement she made—and she made plenty of them in her dance that sent her spinning and kicking through the air.

Gold bangles encircled the dock of her tail so that it perked even higher than normal to keep it out of the way of her fast-moving hooves. Each time the mare clicked those hooves together, sparks or even a burst of flame shot into the air; the faster she moved, the more it seemed that her legs ended in fire.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Basma asked in a soft, almost breathless voice. "Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't have been born to Al-Hadban instead."

"Don't be ridiculous." Aisha shifted sideways to bump their sides together. "What would I do if you weren't my sister?"

Basma giggled. "If I were born to Al-Hadban, then of course you would be, too." She glanced around, then inclined her head to move her muzzle closer to Aisha's ear. "Your admirer seems to be following you, you know." Her voice thrummed with excitement as she nodded behind them. "He's very handsome!"

Aisha frowned as she turned to look over her shoulder. Ghalib lingered near a stall of jewelry with feigned interest, but their eyes met and she quickly looked away. "Yes, I suppose he is."

"Does this mean—" Basma interrupted herself with a quiet squeal of delight. "Does this mean by the end of the day, you will be wed?"

The silence that held the space between them was answer enough, and Aisha watched as her beloved sister's expression started to fall.

"Aisha?" Basma asked, her ears folding back against her mane. "I'm sorry, I—"

Forcing her lips into a smile, Aisha pressed her nose to her sister's cheek and gave a soft chuffle. "He will chase me, yes."

Whether he caught her or not, however, was between him and Al-Seglawi. It was not long until the Khetbah began. Aisha lifted her gaze to the sky to see the silhouette of a shaheen falcon circling overhead.

Soon, the path that lay before her would be made clear.