Many people and legends claim to know what happened to Solomon and me after I left Jerusalem. Even our son, Menelik, has his version of the end of our tale. But only Solomon and I know the real story, so I’ve decided to set the record straight:
My pregnancy left me feeling tired, and I had enormous responsibilities to attend to when I returned to Saba. So, for the first few weeks, I only met with Solomon during my dreams.
I was surprised that what I missed most were our walks and discussions in the park. I found myself becoming increasingly despondent, which Sarahil said wasn’t good for the baby growing inside of me. So although I hadn’t used my Jinn magic for months, I decided that I had to visit my husband before I went insane from grief.
At noon on the day following this decision (there was no time conflict, since I’d stopped attending the solar-worship ceremonies after converting to Judaism), I stood on a smooth, flat stone; cupped my hands; and made a Statement of Empowerment. I closed my eyes, my heart fluttering with anticipation at surprising Solomon. But when I opened my eyes, I was still standing on the flat stone in Saba!
Frustrated and in tears, I tried again and again until the sun went down, and then when the moon rose, I tried once more . . . but nothing happened! I was exhausted when I crawled into bed. Thankfully, Solomon held me all through the night during our dream rendezvous.
The next morning, I was startled to see Mother sleeping beside me. My pillows were covered with smeared kohl, and the sheets were twisted around my legs. I wondered worriedly whether Solomon had lost interest in me and had somehow blocked my Jinn magic. Perhaps it wasn’t safe for me to teleport with the baby inside my womb.
“Are you done?” Mother asked with a sleepy voice.
“Mother, why can’t I transport myself to see Solomon?” I anxiously demanded to know, ignoring her sarcastic question.
Mother stretched her arms and yawned. “Don’t you remember the night that Hiram was killed?” she nonchalantly answered.
My heart leapt at the horrible memory. Why was Mother being so irritating today? Didn’t she realize how sensitive I was, with my pregnancy and growing grief over missing Solomon? “Of course I remember!” I snapped even more rudely than I’d intended, which made me realize the depth of my anger.
Mother continued: “Well, the night of Hiram’s death, you were unable to teleport yourself to the temple because you were upset. In fact, you were almost killed because your grief clashed with the pure energy of the Ark of the Covenant.”
“Yes, that’s true, but what . . . ?” I was about to ask for a further explanation, but then I realized Mother’s point. Jinn magic only worked when I was aligned with the sun, moon, and other physical energies. I’d forgotten Mother’s earlier lessons, which had stated that the earth’s natural state is joyfulness. “If you’re not joyful, your energy won’t harmonize with the sun rays,” she’d told me repeatedly.
“Okay, Mother, thanks!” I said. I was about to apologize for my earlier rudeness, but Mother put her fingers on my chin and lifted my eyes to meet hers.
“I love you, sweetheart,” she said, softly kissing my nose. My heart swelled with warmth, and I felt hope that I’d be able to reach Solomon by focusing on my happiness being with Mother and my ever-growing baby.
So that was the first day I was able to send myself to Jerusalem. When I found Solomon, he was despondent as well. But then he saw my expanding belly and fell to his knees crying as he cradled my stomach. He kissed me until it was time for me to return to Saba—after all, we both had extensive royal duties to perform.
I visited Solomon frequently after that. People in the temple often didn’t recognize me, as I changed in appearance through the years. Rumors started spreading of Solomon’s many wives, which were all really me at various stages of my life.
In between my visits with Solomon, the hoopoe bird brought me beautiful love poems that he handwrote in my Sabaean language.
But in the end, I don’t think Solomon’s sensitive heart could take my frequent absences, as he fell ill and never recovered. Of course I was there with him at the end. How could I not be? After all, we were soul mates, destined to spend eternity together; and as I write this to you from heaven, I assure you that Solomon and I are happily together . . . forever.
Learn more about the novel on www.HayHouse.com.
