An Evil Eye

32

The lady Talfa waddled to the divan.

“Let me get comfortable,” she said. She dropped her slippers and settled against the cushions. “There. You may begin.”

She raised her chin and closed her eyes.

Her dresser knelt at the edge of the divan. She opened her leather bag and took out some little jars, a few pots, a sable brush, and a pair of silver tweezers, which she laid out on the carpet.

It was widely acknowledged within the harem that Talfa, the late sultan’s sister, possessed less than flawless skin. One of the older women had suggested that Talfa resembled her late brother in a number of ways. “She has the same air of command. The same eyes. Only, the blessed sultan lacked such a fine mustache.”

The dresser kept her face lowered as she opened the pot of wax and took up the spatula.

She frowned as she looked into the pot, and turned it slightly toward the light. Then she gave a little gasp.

Talfa opened her eyes.

“What’s the matter now?”

The dresser let the pot slip from her fingers and brought her hand to her mouth.

Talfa’s hand flew to her chin. “What is it?”

“I–I don’t know, hanum efendi. There was something in the pot.”

“In the pot?” A look of annoyance clouded the princess’s face. “Well, pick it up.”

The girl gingerly picked up the pot, and turned it so that Talfa could look inside.

She peered in, then dabbed at it with a finger.

Something black and long sprang out, and they both started. The dresser let the pot fall.

On the carpet between them lay the thick, ribbed tail of a rat.

Talfa’s face slowly crumpled as she squeezed her eyes shut and opened her mouth. Then she screamed, and screamed, and screamed.