"True."
"When a djinn is invoked, does it have to be attached to an object?"
"Yes. The object serves as a link between this world and their world."
"Are the artifacts in the temples impossible to destroy?"
"Only the Carpet of Ka is impossible to destroy."
"Are the artifacts difficult to destroy?"
"Very difficult."
"Is a person's contract with a djinn destroyed when the artifact it's attached to gets destroyed?" I asked, and even before the carpet answered, I was thinking how easy it would be to smash a clay pot.
The stars on the carpet formed a smile.
"The girl is beginning to think," it said.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE NEXT MORNING started like the morning before: breakfast followed by chores. I had to milk the goats again, but this time Aleena wanted me to milk as many as she did. I did not think that was fair, but I could not exactly argue with her.
I got kicked again at the beginning and I think it was by the same goat as the day before, but I could not be sure. It kicked me really hard; it broke skin and I bled. Aleena showed not an ounce of sympathy. It took nearly until lunch for me to finish with my goats and she still wanted me to sweep the barn. But she did not take me to the stream. She handed me a fresh pair of pants and a shirt and gestured for me to go on my own.
I found it difficult to relax in the water. I kept thinking of the carpet, which was hidden under my bed. Aleena did not strike me as a snoop, but it was her house. Would she know what the carpet was? If she knew what the djinn were, like the carpet said, then she must know about magic carpets. Perhaps she and Hara would steal it and use it to leave the island without me.
Yet the carpet had returned. That meant a lot to me.
After lunch Aleena resumed her pottery lessons. I paid close attention. After saying good night to the carpet, I had already begun to formulate a plan. I needed to invoke a djinn that could destroy the djinn that was tormenting Amesh. But I needed to attach it to an object I could break. That way I could break my bond with it and circumvent the Three Laws—at least that was my understanding of what the carpet had said.
Aleena was my ticket to the perfect pot. Indeed, it struck me as an incredible coincidence that I needed to make an easy-to-break artifact, and here she was giving me pottery lessons. It couldn't be just a coincidence.
Time was not constant, the carpet kept saying. But I felt that time was my enemy. With each passing hour, I sensed Amesh moving closer to death.
On the fourth day, after supper, I made a bold move. While the other two were resting in the living room beside a roaring fire, I went into my room and got out the Carpet of Ka and talked to it for a while. I asked my usual pointed questions, and it gave its usual disturbing answers. The bottom line of our conversation was that I needed more experience with the djinn before I could hope to control one.
It was telling me to return to the valley of the temples.
I couldn't do that without telling Hara and Aleena. They were not going to sleep for hours, and I wanted to go to the valley while I was still fresh. Yet I doubted they would let me go for a hike in the dark by myself. Just once, in the middle of the night, I had gotten up to go outside to pee, and Hara had immediately awakened to check on me.
I could think of only one way to prepare them for my big surprise. I returned to the living room and took them by the hands and showed them the pieces of Aleena's pottery that reminded me of the carpet's artwork. They both nodded, unsure of what point I was trying to make.
Then I went to my room and returned with the carpet.
I laid it on the living room floor.
Aleena gasped; she made the actual sound, the closest to a word I had heard her make. Hara began to talk in an excited voice. I could not tell if he was happy or upset. He would not stop talking. Not until I encouraged them to touch the carpet.
They reacted shyly, as if it were sacred. But finally they touched it, and began to stroke it, and when their smiles changed to laughter, I knew they could feel the energy the carpet often gave off.
Finally, I stood and hugged the carpet to my chest and pointed to the sky. Again, I was sure they understood. They knew I was about to fly away. They looked worried. I had to struggle to make it clear I was going to return.
Outside I searched for a ley line.
The sky was clear, the stars bright. I did not have to go far to find a line. In minutes I was sitting at the front of the carpet and floating six feet off the ground. It was wonderful to have the power of flight back under my control.
I was ready to blast off, but I was cautious. It was extremely dark. It would be easy to get lost. I had only my compass to guide me. I tried to remember the path that had led me to the house, but I was forgetting a few turns.
Then inspiration struck.
The kind that was either brilliant or foolhardy.
What if I commanded the carpet to fly straight up? To rise up so high that I could see both the house and the valley of temples from one grand vantage point? On the surface it seemed like a simple solution, but it was risky. I might have to take the carpet up a mile to see the valley. That would be higher than I had ever been before. Could it even fly that high?
"There's only one way to find out," I muttered to myself.
I positioned the tassels. But this time I also tried to mentally focus on steering the carpet. Talking to it the last few days, I'd learned that a psychic connection to the carpet was more important than a physical one. In a way, the tassels were like crude instruments for beginners.
I began to rise higher and higher. The air had been calm and warm at ground level, but suddenly I felt a brisk wind in my face. It was so cold it made my nose numb. Yet the wind did not cause the carpet to waver. It remained flat and steady, until it came to a sudden halt without my telling it to halt.
The view was stunning. It took my breath away.
To my left, I saw the valley of temples and its watery pools. Directly below was Hara and Aleena's house—woven so deep into the hill against which it had been built that there were portions of it on the other side. On the far side of the summit were lit rooms I suspected they would never show to me. Perhaps they had more guests than one.
But I did not have time for sightseeing. The air was freezing; I began to shiver. What a fool I had been not to bring my coat!
I didn't dive straight down, but swooped lower in a spiral. I could only assume my ley line had expanded when I'd flown up. After a few minutes of spiraling, I was sitting beside the first temple Amesh and I had entered: the triangular temple with the altar that held the sword hilt. The carpet had already told me that the djinn attached to this artifact was powerful. As I moved to the side of the star field, I asked the carpet just how strong he was.
"The djinn who is tied to this artifact rules this island. Few can stand against him."
"Are you saying he's the king of the djinn?" I asked. "He is the king of the djinn on this island."
"Do djinn live elsewhere?"
"Of course."
"Can I invoke him without making a wish?" I asked.
"Yes. But he will expect you to make a wish."
"Do the djinn have two sexes like human beings?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Do they marry and have children?"
"Yes. But not all marry, nor have children."
"Is the king of the djinn married?"
"Yes."
"Is the wife powerful?"
"No doubt."
"Can I use the king djinn to reach the queen djinn?"
"It depends on how much information you can extract from the king."
"From what you've told me, it sounds like I need to learn the queen's name."
"Correct. Is that your plan?"
"Part of it. Is the king's mate attached to an artifact?"
"No."
"Excellent! Can I attach it to an artifact?"
"If you're careful, perhaps."
>
"Why did you add the perhaps?"
"Because the key to your plan lies in tricking the king so you can later ensnare his mate."
"I'll release the queen once Amesh is safe."
"Still, the djinn do not like to be used."
"Is my plan too risky?"
"It is very risky, but also very clever."
I felt encouraged. The carpet seldom handed out praise.
"I know that I need a strong djinn to rescue Amesh from his djinn. I saw what his can do. When you told me a powerful djinn lived in the triangular temple, it got me thinking that perhaps it had an equally powerful mate that was not connected to one of those impossible-to-break artifacts."
"None are impossible to break. But most are difficult to destroy."
"That's why I want to go after the queen instead of the king. If I understand the rules correctly, I can't break my contract with him unless I can break his artifact. But if I can bind his queen to, say, a pot—that I can smash later—then I figure she might make the perfect ally."
"Your reasoning is sound."
I hesitated. "Are there any holes in it?"
"The king of the djinn will know that you want something from him. When you do not ask for a wish, he will get suspicious."
"Maybe I can just ask for one wish."
"One wish often leads to two. Try to avoid that temptation."
"Does it matter that I don't have my pot ready to attach to the queen tonight?" I asked.
"No artifact is necessary if you are not going to invoke her tonight."
"Is there any other warning you can give me about the king djinn?"
"If he tastes your blood, he will realize you are royalty, and he will be anxious to make you indebted to him. Use that desire against him. Also, if you do trick him into revealing his wife's name, but make no wish, he will get angry. He may even seek revenge."
"How is he going to taste my blood?" I asked.
"Be wary of the blade that is not visible."
"Huh?"
"Keep your eyes open."
"But he can't hurt me when there's no contract between us."
"He should not be able to. But he is shrewd. He might find a way."
I swallowed. "Any last piece of advice?"
"Do not tell him your name."
CHAPTER TWELVE
I HAD LEFT THE DOOR propped open. I did not have to fly in through the ceiling. But as I pulled the door wide, I wondered how much these creatures talked. It worried me because the last time Amesh and I had accidentally given out our first names. For all I knew Amesh's djinn was texting his boss right now. Yo, Your Majesty, it's your lucky night. A wannabe Kala named Sara's going to be stopping by your temple tonight. Just keep her talking and I guarantee she'll end up wishing for the moon.
The place had an internal alarm. The candles that stood at the corners did not light until I stepped inside. Then once again, they shone brightly. The king djinn was near; I could feel him.
The altar waited, unchanged: shaped like a triangle, made of silver and gold, covered with red cloth, immaculate. I heard no wind or sound. It seemed to be a place time could not touch.
The hilt rested in the center of the altar. Around its top was the long green emerald fashioned in the shape of a serpent. Its mouth hung open; its sharp teeth shone in the candlelight.
The longer I waited, I thought the more my fear would grow. But it gnawed at me that I still did not know the third rule of the djinn. The carpet had hinted that if I searched for the answer, I would find it. What better place to find it than in the boss's temple?
Last time I had barely scanned the stained glass windows. But now I decided to give them a good look.
Hidden in a corner, I found a series of windows with exotic pictures. The first showed a human being bowing to a luminous being, like one of the angels on the carpet. The man had his hands folded in prayer. He was about to make a wish.
In the next scene, the man had a woman standing beside him. It was as though he had asked the djinn for a wife and the djinn had found him one. They were both smiling.
In the third scene the man was alone, probably making a second wish. In the fourth scene, not only did he have a wife, he had a castle at his back and an assortment of servants. Again, everyone was smiling, except for the wife. She looked worried. She also looked very pregnant.
In the fifth scene, the man was handing his infant son to the djinn. I thought of what the carpet had said about the second wish. It looked like he had to hand over the baby to pay for the castle. Bummer.
In the sixth scene, the man was old, sick, and alone again, making what was probably his last wish. For on the seventh window he was young again, healthy. Yet he was not given a chance to enjoy his youth. In the final scene, the djinn had a noose around the man's neck and was leading him away to a fiery hell.
I feared that, after the third wish, the djinn did not merely own a person's body, but his very soul. He did not become just a slave, but a thrall.
I stretched out the carpet near the altar and spoke in a whisper.
"The first wish, the djinn must grant for free. The second wish, you owe the djinn. The third wish, the djinn owns you." I paused. "Are these the Laws of the Djinn?"
The stars spelled out the worst possible answer.
"Yes," it said.
"Oh, God," I whispered.
I had to act quickly. I had to save Amesh. Picking up the hilt of the sword, my fingers curled around and slipped under the fangs. Or else the teeth moved to meet my fingers, it was hard to tell.
Instantly the fangs lengthened and sank into two fingers.
The bite was excruciating. I reacted like anyone else would: I let go of the hilt and swung it wildly. I tried to pull my fingers free. This only made matters worse. The fangs tore my skin. I was no longer the one gripping the artifact. It was gripping me. And it wouldn't let go.
Yet not a drop of my blood spilled from the serpent's mouth. For an instant I thought it had not taken much from me. Then I realized it was able to absorb the blood and not show it. Terror overrode my reason. My fingers were still bleeding, still hurting, but the more I struggled, the worse it got.
Taking slow deep breaths, I willed myself to calm down. A part of me knew that if I did not have a solid grip on the hilt when the djinn appeared, it would be easier for it to control me. It made sense. The artifact was the tool it used to reach into our dimension. It didn't matter if the blasted thing was drinking my blood—I had to hold on to it to show I wasn't afraid.
A shimmering red glow formed above the altar. Quickly it assumed shape. It was twice the height of a man, but it was not human. It had four arms instead of two, an exaggerated torso that ballooned outward. Though it swelled in all directions, the djinn was not fat nor weak. Its four legs were short and strong—elephantine pillars that could support a twenty-foot stone statue. Despite its extra legs, it stood erect. Instead of clothes it was covered in silver and gold feathers.
Its head was large, round, and bald. In place of a nose and mouth was a beak; its sharpness matched the tips of its six-digit talons. Its eyes were those of a snake. The pupils were fiery red, their gaze infinitely cold.
Given these terrible parts, the djinn should have been hideous.
Yet it wasn't, not to me. Amesh's remark returned to haunt me. "It's magnificent," he had uttered when he had first beheld his djinn. Just staring at it made me dizzy. I had to shake myself to stay alert.
Still, when it wet its yellow beak with a black tongue, it left a red drop, which I knew for certain was my blood. But how my blood was being transferred from the artifact into its mouth was a mystery.
It knew who I was.
I was royalty. And it was pleased to see me.
It spoke. As before, the words did not emanate from the djinn alone, but from the walls as well. I glimpsed its thoughts, sensed it searching for my own. The creature was telepathic to a degree. At first I felt it wanted my friendship, but then I realized that was just a
projection, a trick.
I was simply another client to enslave, another chance for it to advance its agenda, whatever that was. I sensed its intelligence, its experience—thick as an ancient book, with endless bloodstained pages of successful conquests.
"You are a welcome sight," it said. "What are you called?"
I almost answered against my will. I had to struggle to stop. I feared to think my name. Be aggressive, I thought. Do not give it a chance to fully enter your mind.
"Thank you for making me feel so welcome, King..." I let the words trail off, before adding, "I'm sorry, I seem to have forgotten your name."
"Have you? I am disappointed. I was confident you would recognize me."
"But I do, Your Majesty. It's only your name that escapes me. Please refresh my memory."
It shifted to my right, a few feet away from the altar. I was not sure why. The candlelight glittered over its feathered body like a lantern over a treasure. I sensed that above all things, it wanted to make me a thrall, like the man with the noose around his neck in the final stained glass window.
I worried it was slowly gaining control. My fingers continued to throb. It was still drinking my blood. How much could it get out of two fingers? I supposed it depended on how long we talked. It licked its beak again, and another red drop appeared at the tip.
Tasty, beautiful girl, I thought I heard it say.
"This is my home and you are my guest. It is proper for a guest to introduce herself," the djinn said.
I forced a smile. "But surely Your Majesty recognizes me?"
It made a disturbing clicking sound with its beak.
"Your taste is familiar. I think I recognize you by one of your ancient names." It paused. "You are an ancient, are you not?"
I chuckled. "Your Majesty plays with me. You have tasted my blood and know me. But as an old ally, you know I don't possess your great power. Please, let me show you the respect you deserve. Let me bow and address you by your proper name." Then, playing one of my aces, I said, "Besides, how am I to ask Your Majesty for the things I need when you won't share your full name with me?"
Things. I was saying I wanted to make more than one wish.