Duban was obviously set back. “But to have such a creature with me—others will misunderstand.”

  “Not if she accompanies you in the form of a silver ring on your finger.”

  “You can do transformations?”

  “Not of that magnitude; tail to legs is about our limit. But you can. All you need is guidance.”

  “Guidance?”

  “Approach him, Sylvie,” the Siren said. The mermaid did. “Take her hand, Duban.” Duban reluctantly did. “Now concentrate of the image of the ring, Duban. Make her change, stage by stage. Be guided by the protocol in my mind.” She knew Duban could read her mind, and was using that.

  And, slowly, the mermaid changed form, first bending forward to catch her own toes with her free hand, forming a large ring in the water, part of which touched Duban’s hand. Then it became smaller, until at last it was ring sized, and nestled securely on his left little finger.

  “Free her to swim once a day, for her health,” the siren said. “Otherwise she will be no trouble to you. You will be able to commune with her mentally, as you are in close contact, and if we need you, we will signal her.”

  Duban stared at what he had wrought, fascinated. A silvery ring on his finger, that I now saw had faint contours of a curled woman. Sylvie. The Siren had known how to direct Duban in using his formidable magic for this purpose. In the process she had amplified his power by showing him how it could be directed. She must have learned such tricks in the course of her centuries of life.

  I exchanged a glance with Sinbad. We both knew that we would be better off allied with the Sirens than opposed to them. We did not want them as enemies.

  Still, there were questions. “If you were this savvy about our nature and motives, why did you bother with the business in the boat?”

  The Siren smiled. “We do enjoy a little flirtation on occasion.”

  “Flirtation! I threatened to cut off your head!”

  “But you didn’t mean it, any more than we meant to drown you. We simply had roles to play, until we could get private. The very fish have ears, out there.”

  I elected not to argue the case. For one thing, I feared she was smarter than I. Truly savvy women make me nervous.

  “The young sailor,” Sinbad said. “You took him.”

  I nodded. How would she explain away that evidence of bad intention?

  “You may have him back, if he wants to rejoin you. Observe.” The Siren touched a wall of the cave and a porthole opened.

  Sinbad and I peered through it; Duban remained distracted by the ring. There was the sailor embracing a siren so closely it was hard to be sure whether she was wearing legs or tail. He was madly kissing her, and that was surely only the aspect that showed. Several other sirens were waiting nearby.

  “Sailor!” Sinbad called. “We are about to return to the ship. Are you coming?”

  “In a moment!” he gasped. Then he paused. “Oh, the ship. No, I’m happy here.”

  “You’re wearing yourself out,” Sinbad said. “It’s not healthy.”

  “They’ve got pep pills. I can keep going indefinitely.” Indeed, he finished with the one mermaid, who rolled out from under him, and another took her place. He clasped her, though he was starting to look gaunt.

  It was apparent that the sailor was in his kind of heaven and did not want to give it up even for a moment, though he destroy himself. He was drugged on performance.

  I sighed. We needed to get out of here before the tone deaf magic wore off, so that we did not get similarly overcome. “We have a deal,” I said shortly.

  “Wonderful.” The Siren came and kissed me with such finesse that I did have to wonder whether she would be able to seduce me if given time. I suspected she could, despite my awareness that she was far, far older than she looked.

  “Time to go,” Sinbad said.

  It was more than time.

  Chapter Twelve

  The three of us were then given free rein of the underwater cavern, told to hand-pick our treasures. Sinbad, in dire need of a hefty payment to negotiate for his wife, picked out the most valuable jewels and gold coins. He bypassed silver entirely. Duban had an eye for mystical relics: a fabulous crystal ball, golden idols and chunky jewelry that veritably screamed enchantment. All of which he scooped up with glee, and I suspected that a ship or two transporting powerful wizards had met their end on these very rocks.

  How many lives had the Sirens ended? I didn’t know, but I figured in the hundreds, if not thousands. What possessed them? What drove them? Was it all for the valuable cargo? Cargo they had no use of other than to bask in its beauty?

  I hadn’t a clue, but I knew we needed to be moving. I wasn’t sure how much longer Duban’s spell would keep the Sirens’ singing at bay. Indeed, I could hear their singing constantly in the background. Although many were here with us in the caverns, I suspected a few were always on the rock, singing, luring, destroying, killing.

  I shook my head as I went through the treasure, picking out what I thought Jewel would like, and relics that would look nice in my palace. I felt like a woman out shopping in the market with her sisters. Except in this case, the market consisted of only treasure, and my “sisters” were none other than Sinbad and a powerful young wizard, who only seemed to be getting more powerful by the minute.

  I picked out some portraits that were breathtaking, and jewel-encrusted bowls, goblets and something that could have been a wand. I’d probably give that to Duban. As I pointed to items, beautiful maidens collected them and deposited them in clear containers that I, for the life of me, could not fathom their composition. It appeared to be glass, but very fine and lightweight. Perhaps it was an enchanted material, known only to these vile vixens.

  Sinbad’s treasure of gold and jewels filled the majority of the boxes, which was fine. My kingdom was thriving and I, like the Sirens, had little use for gold and jewels, other to look at.

  Perhaps I am not much different than the vixens, I thought, but then tossed the idea immediately. I did not make it a habit to lure and destroy and plunder.

  “And how do we get this treasure to the ship?” I asked the beautiful leader, who was watching all of this from a high rock. I noted the perch gave her a view of the entire cavern, from where she could indeed sit and admire her priceless collection.

  “We will take it out to you, of course. We have done this sort of thing before, although in reverse.” She cackled at her own wicked joke.

  As we were preparing to set out again, something else caught my eye. A rug, rolled tightly and leaning against the cave wall. A loose thread was blowing in the wind...except there was no wind down here. Having already owned such a magic carpet, I suspected what this was immediately. I pointed to it, and it, too, was added to our valuable cargo.

  With our treasure selected, we were led out of the cavern the same way we had come. Duban, I noted, appeared relaxed and comfortable during the entire swim, while Sinbad and I swam with panicked desperation. And with my lungs near to bursting, we broke the surface of the ocean, near our simple rowboat, which had not strayed very far. The boy only smiled as Sinbad and I gasped, sucking great lungfuls of air.

  Enchantment, I thought. Wizards always have it easy.

  The next few hours were eventful as our horde of treasure, towed by a row of beautiful Sirens appeared next to the ship. The lads on board nearly fell into the water with them. They didn’t need enchanted songs to lure them to their deaths. A healthy pair of floating breasts appeared to be all that was necessary.

  There was a collective groan from the men, when the Sirens lifted their tails in unison, flashed the men, and dove under the surface. It was a good thing we were out of range of the cursed rock. No doubt the ship would have turned and followed right behind them.

  With our treasure stowed aboard and the merchant vessel sitting low on the water, I knew we had reached its maximum capacity.

  Later, Sinbad and I were sitting with the captain in his slightly less cramped quar
ters. Duban and the men were singing and dancing and stomping above deck, celebrating our epic haul of treasure.

  Sinbad, I noted, appeared anxious.

  He saw my concern and explained, “Every day that my wife is held captive is another day for her to be raped and tortured.”

  “Surely this is enough treasure to ransom your wife,” I said.

  At the mention of giving up the treasure, the ship captain looked stricken and a brief darkness clouded his features. He composed himself quickly. “It’s enough to buy a small kingdom.” And now the captain looked wistful, and I wondered what he had in mind.

  “We can only see,” said Sinbad. “But I think it’s time to find out.”

  “And where is your wife being held captive?” I asked.

  “Cloudland,” said Sinbad grimly.

  “I have never heard of this land,” I said.

  Sinbad smiled and I saw the old gleam of adventure return. “Because few have seen it, and fewer yet have returned.”

  “It seems,” I said dryly, “that we have been hearing that a lot.”

  Sinbad chuckled lightly. “You are good luck, my King, as I suspected you would be. Anyone aided by such a powerful djinn must surely have luck on his side. In the past, my visits to the land of the dead or the caverns of the Sirens, would have ended very poorly for me. Sure, I might have come out of it alive, but my crew would have been long gone, and I might have suffered greatly. But with you here, yes, Allah is surely looking favorably upon us. So, indeed, few have seen these places, and fewer yet make it back alive, which is why I have high hope that we will survive yet again, and this time with my precious wife.”

  I was embarrassed by praise of luck, although a case could certainly be made for it. I prefer to think I lived by my wits and strength and cunning, but maybe my success was due to nothing more than good fortune and the grace of Allah.

  I said, “Tell me more of this Cloudland.”

  “Ah, it needs to be seen to be believed,” began Sinbad, and once again his dark eyes had that far-off look of a man who is forever restless, who forever craves adventures and a rolling deck beneath his feet.

  Sinbad went on to describe Cloudland, a fantastical place that sat high in the clouds above an island a week’s journey from here. The trees here grew to incomprehensible heights, reaching high into the clouds themselves. There a city was built, in the treetops, connected by precarious bridges and walkways, a city perpetually filled with roiling mist, thunderstorms and lighting. “Here, where the sun never shines, a great wizard lives.”

  “And this is where your wife is held captive?”

  “Close,” said Sinbad. “The great trees reach as high as the highest peak upon the mountain. It is within a cave, high above, and guarded by a serpent large enough to swallow two camels whole.”

  Duban turned green. I think my own heart might have fluttered. It was tempting to wish Sinbad luck and turn back with our treasure, but I had come to like the man, and his love for his wife was admirable. Not to mention, I did not want our hero’s tale to say that King Aladdin fled at the first sign of insurmountable odds. Or seemingly insurmountable odds.

  I nodded and clapped Sinbad heartily on his shoulder. “Then I suggest we set sail for Cloudland immediately.”

  The relief on his face was unmistakable. The frown on the captain’s face was worrisome. In due course, we set sail for the isle of the giant trees.

  And giant serpents, too, apparently.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Don’t sleep by day, master,” Faddy told me. “It’s not healthy.”

  “I’ll do what I please, ifrit,” I retorted. “Begone.”

  He went. That spook could really annoy me, because now he appeared when he chose, rather than when I chose. He was trying to direct my schedule?

  The sea was calm, with moderate winds of the right direction: ideal sailing weather. After two days we were frankly bored. Duban kept me from being seasick by moderate doses of the tone-deaf spell, which I really appreciated. We played at dice for worthless pebbles, just for the diversion and to show Duban this aspect of male existence; all men gambled foolishly. We ate a good meal provided by the ship’s galley, and drank a bit too much spiced sherbet. Sherbets required ice, and there was precious little of that aboard ship, because it didn’t store well, so it was a special treat. Maybe the captain wasn’t such a bad sort after all. Even Duban sampled the drink, learning another aspect of being a man, though I wouldn’t let him over-indulge lest I had to answer to his mother. Really good drinks sometimes contained alcohol, which was of course forbidden to loyal followers of Allah. Naturally we pretended not to notice the tang. Then we slept.

  I woke in darkness, which was odd because it had been midday when we napped. Then I realized that I was not in our cramped compartment, but in a boat. A closed boat. In fact it was our double boat that we had used to ride the whirlpools. What was I doing here?

  In a moment I felt around and found Sinbad and Duban on either side of me, both still sound asleep. This was really weird. How had we come here without waking?

  “I told you, master. But you dismissed me unkindly.”

  For once I was glad to hear from Faddy. “I apologize for disrespecting you,” I said contritely. “Now will you explain the situation?”

  “Gladly, master. The wicked captain put bhang in your sherbet, such a dose that if an elephant sniffed it, it would sleep from week to week. Naturally you conked out. Then he hauled the three of you into the boats, closed them over you, and had his men lower you over the side to the water and cast you adrift. The men did not know the craft was occupied. They thought it was merely making room on the deck for future treasure.”

  My mind was slowly clearing. Bhang had never had great effect on me, which explained why I recovered first, though probably Faddy was exaggerating about the elephant. “This is a dastardly plot by the captain? I never did much like the look of the man.”

  “Even so, master. I tried to warn you.”

  “So you said,” I agreed. Sometimes Faddy’s communications lacked complete clarity, but this was not the time to argue that case. “So the captain is stranding us so he can abscond with the treasure?”

  “Even so, master. No one else knows you are even gone. I think he means to take it all for himself and any henchmen who support him.”

  “Let’s get the lid off,” I said, sitting up and heaving at it. It swung up and the light of early afternoon poured in.

  I looked around. There was no sign of the ship. With a fair wind it had obviously made good progress away from here, and we would never be able to catch it even if we were all in good rowing shape, which we weren’t. There was no land either. We were stranded on the high seas, and for all the captain knew, would soon die of hunger and exposure here on the open water. It was one sinisterly neat ploy.

  However, there were things the captain did not know about us, such as our identities, or my magic lamp, or Duban’s growing ability as a magician. The crew knew him as as innocent young musician, that was all. We had resources, and this was not as serious a matter as it might have been.

  I felt for the chest that held the Lamp. It wasn’t there. Oops—it had been left behind, on the ship, as a thing of little value. Our situation had just become a notch more serious. But there still might be a remedy. “Faddy, would you care to zip off to the ship and fetch me the Lamp?”

  “You’re turning to that djinn instead of to me?” he demanded, offended.

  I realized it would not be politic to point out that as ifrits went, Lamprey was like a mighty king compared to Faddy’s lowly peasant, and could do proportionally more for me. “I have to,” I said. “Lamprey remains bound to me. You don’t. I freed you, remember?”

  “Still,” he said, only moderately mollified.

  “But of course you are an ifrit, and surely could provide supernatural help if you chose to. That would make you as useful as Lamprey.”

  “Are you managing me?” he asked suspiciou
sly.

  “I wouldn’t think of it,” I lied. “Merely clarifying that you could be of great service in my desperate hour of need, if you felt so generously inclined.”

  “So you want me to fetch the lamp.”

  Hades! He’d never do it now. “You’re too smart for me,” I confessed ruefully.

  “Obviously,” he agreed, mellowing.

  Sinbad stirred. “What?” he asked groggily.

  “We got dosed and dumped,” I explained. “Plot by the captain to steal the treasure.”

  Suddenly he was wide awake. “But I need that treasure to ransom my wife!”

  “The man is a gas-bloated donkey’s anal sphincter,” I remarked. “He thinks he has a better use for the treasure than wasting it on a mere captive woman.”

  “I will tie him to the mast and flay off all his skin!”

  “An admirable ambition,” I agreed. “First we need to un-maroon ourselves.

  Now Duban stirred. He had taken least of the doped drink, but was not hardened to alcohol or bhang. “Why do I feel as if I just vomited?” he asked.

  “There was bhang in the sherbet,” I told him. “We didn’t know. The captain plotted to strand us and abscond with the treasure before we could spend it on a ransom.”

  “The Assyrians impaled people for less than that,” he said, annoyed. Impalement in those old days had been a matter of sitting men on vertical pointed posts so their their own weight gradually bore them down until their ruptured guts killed them. It was one of those punishments like crucifixion that was best avoided.

  “So what do we do now?” Sinbad asked, being a practical person.

  I got a genius of an idea. “Duban, you still wear the silver ring?”

  “Yes.” He looked embarrassed. “Every so often she squeezes me, almost as if it is some other part of me she surrounds.”

  “She can’t help it; she’s a Siren. Squeezing is as natural to them as singing. But I believe we can use her, if she’s willing.”