This was just fine with Aeshma. A quiescent master was the best master—if one had to have a master at all. The daeva was worried about the Marids who’d come around to spy on him one day, knowing they must have been sent by some powerful wizard—but as time passed and no threat came, he relaxed his guard ever so slightly.
Then one day an enormous eagle flew through the sky from out of the northeast, landing within the outer wall of the palace. The huge bird alit in the outer courtyard beside the ornate flowing fountain, surrounded by pomegranate trees laden with their ripe fruit. A man dismounted from the bird’s back—a man dressed in black robes with a black turban, and with black patches over both his eyes. When this man stood firmly on the ground facing the palace, he gave a slight wave o
