Hello!

I thought it would be nice to share with you Chapter 1 of Mumeet, the 3rd book of the Sarim Series, which is a series of books following the adventures of Mishal, the newest Exorcist at the Public Authority of Anti-Jinn Operations, based in Muscat, Oman. Watch him hunt evil jinn, protect his friends, and uncover the screts of his magic!

If you would like to preorder the book, click here! It will launch in April inshallah

By ordering, you are supporting indie Omani writers.

Chapter One: A Dance With Despair

The boy tugged against the manacles holding him to the cave wall, making them softly chirp. He rolled his neck to work out a kink in it. Two weeks he’d been here. Two weeks of monotone meals of rice with daal, of listening to the guards gossiping about the desperate state of affairs at Sarim, of worrying about how he’d royally, truly, completely messed up.
The good thing about being chained in a cave, reflected sixteen-year old Mishal, is that at least you don’t have to worry about what to do next.
Not that this stopped Mishal from worrying. His heart was a broken compass, spinning wildly until it blurred and all directions looked wrong. Nevermind that for now, he told himself. You need to get out of here and find Asaad.
Mishal put his worries aside in a secret pocket inside his mind and examined the situation. He was in a cell, held in place by magical shackles and a geometric seal painted on the wall that restricted his ruh.
Frustrated, Mishal tugged on the shackles, though he knew that nothing would happen.
“Good afternoon, brother,” a voice said from behind the cell door, apparently having heard the noise Mishal made. A moment later, Mishal saw torchlight slip underneath the door. It opened, revealing the resigned face of one of his jailers.
The man gave Mishal a not unkind smile. This man had tended the jail every day for the past two weeks. By the brown of his fatigues, Mishal identified him as a scout, a type of Sarim employee with minimal magic powers. Scouts did not directly fight jinn. However, their military training made them well-suited to tasks such as guarding prisoners.
Making sure criminals like me can’t hurt anyone. Mishal replayed the moment when Asaad, his Shayib, had appeared from an alternate dimension with a jinni embedded inside his soul. Asaad had looked terrifying, with his eyes a complete monotone black like tar, his face apologetic as he spoke in the tone of Maymun Al Sahabi, an ancient monstrosity.
This cell was only part of Mishal’s punishment. Soon, Mishal would stand trial for his role in all this. Mishal imagined being in the council of Shayibs, where the CEO had always sat, and answering for the crime of allowing the CEO to be killed. The feeling made him sick to his stomach. He gave his life to save Asaad.
Asaad would need to have his own trial, Mishal realized.
Worse still, Asaad could be dead.
Or he could be in the adjacent cell for all I know, Mishal thought to himself even as he nodded to the jailer.
The man walked into Mishal’s cell. He gathered Mishal’s bowl of food and replaced it with a fresh metal plate segmented into two halves, one which contained daal and another which contained rice. However, this time there was something new on top of the rice.
“Did I get an upgrade?” Mishal asked, wincing at the dryness in his throat.
The man smiled. “I thought you’d appreciate a piece of fish. This is gaithar, meaty and filled with protein. Would help keep up your bulk. Mashallah, you’re big. How old are you?”
“16 and a half,” Mishal replied cautiously. In fact, his birthday would be in May, just a few months later.
“Wow. Trust me then, you’ll grow up to be a beast by the time you’re twenty, if you keep up whatever it is you’re doing. Can I call you if I need to move any furniture in my house?” the man joked.
Mishal smiled in spite of himself. However, all this talk of houses reminded him of his own home in Al Khoudh, and his family. A pang of worry went through him, and before he could think, he said, “My parents and sister must be worried sick.”
The man’s grin widened. “Oh, Sarim has ways to get around that. They probably think you’re in a boarding school somewhere, or perhaps Sarim conveniently delivered a clone of you to their doorstep. Don’t worry about it. Your trial will be over before you know it. And then, maybe you’ll be let out and go right back home.”
Mishal remembered the black coin which Sarim’s technical department had given him earlier. One click on the device caused a ruh construct to inflate from within it, creating a poorly-constructed copy of the user. Such a copy parroted phrases, but its voice and features, such as its too-close eyes, made Mishal shudder. Could that copy really fool his family for long? “Why are you so nice to me?” he asked.
The man’s grin faltered. “Ah, well. I heard about what happened, of course. About the battle of Maymun Beach.”
Mishal’s heart dropped. “Is that what they’re calling it now?” He looked deep into the man’s eyes and found swirls of confusion. “I didn’t know that was going to happen,” he swore. He didn’t trust himself to say more. He thought about the small keychain in the shape of a sword, which he had bought for Ahlam, long ago. Was it still in his pocket?
“I believe you,” the man replied. “You were just trying to help your friend, and I can’t fault you for that. I’m sure the higher ups will understand.”
The man pulled a key from his front pocket and inserted it into the metal panel where Mishal’s manacles connected to the wall. With a click, the chain released from Mishal’s wrists. However, his manacles were still on.
Mishal rubbed his hands. The restraint was lifted, but the magical seal on his powers was not. He eyed the guard, wondering if he could take him in a straight fight.
Haraam, I can’t do that after he’d been so nice to me. What if I sneak around him?
Suddenly, Mishal started. The guard’s eyes were elsewhere. He’d been distracted by some sound upstairs, and was looking up in confusion. Mishal felt an urge to sneak around the man, search for Asaad, take him and run away forever.
Focusing on your urges is how you got into this mess.
Months earlier, when Maymun Al Sahabi had first began looking for ways to possess Asaad, Mishal had wholeheartedly believed that Asaad could overcome the ancient jinni. He had helped Asaad train in a different dimension. Unfortunately, Mishal had misjudged the situation, and now Asaad was in an unknown condition.
All because you decided things with your heart. Now, you need to think this through.
Sneak around him now? Or wait until night?
Maybe now was the best moment. Slowly, Mishal inched around the guard. However, at that moment the guard looked back down at him, a growl escaping his lips. “You’d better not, Rambo. You’re only in temporary confinement. Be good and don’t cause any more problems.”
Mishal let out a frustrated breath. Not only had he failed, but the guard was on high alert now. He put out his manacled hands, used to the routine, and the man put out a water bottle out for Mishal to wash his hands. Mishal leaned down and began to eat with his hands, scooping bits of daal into the white rice and then into his mouth. Then he tried the fish. It tasted… good, actually. Not as great as what his mother made, but good.
“How is Asaad doing in the other room?” Mishal asked offhandedly, poking for information. He gestured with his head to the right side.
The man smiled slyly. His eyes followed Mishal’s gesture, but then he glanced to the other side. “What makes you think we put him in the other room?”
Mishal nodded. From the man’s phrasing, he deduced that Asaad must still be alive. More importantly, the man’s glance told him that Asaad must be held deeper inside the jail, to his left. The last he remembered, Asaad had collapsed. Mishal imagined him lying in a coma even now. They should be putting him in a hospital, not a prison.
At least he’s alive.
Suddenly, a loud thump sounded above. Mishal and the man both paused. Dust fluttered slowly down from the ceiling, with two pairs of eyes watching it closely. Mishal and the man looked to one another.
“What was that?” the man asked, looking even more nervous than Mishal felt.
Another thump sounded, louder than the previous one. Then shouts came, followed by a boom so loud that it shook the entire cave, toppling Mishal’s lunch and causing the man to trip and slam his head on the wall.
The man fell to the floor, face staring vacantly up at Mishal.

***

Like what you read? Preorder the book!

The post Chapter 1 of Mumeet first appeared on Majlis.