The Librarians and the Lost Lamp

  Stone noted belatedly that thick leather gloves protected the man’s hands, while the canyon itself offered a convenient way to dispose of a booby-trapped lamp should the need arise. He suspected that such considerations had factored into the selection of the meeting site, along with the way the canyon lent itself to a speedy escape by magic carpet. Even now, there was no way for Stone and the others to reach Baird or come to her aid, nor could they readily pursue the carpet if it flew away with her.

  “Make it quick,” Stone snarled.

  “That was always my intention.”

  Krieger examined the jade artifact carefully before holding it up for Marjanah’s inspection. “What do you think? Is this the Lamp you remember?”

  “That was ten years ago,” she said, squinting at the Lamp, “and there was a mountain coming down on us, and a hungry roc, but … yes, I believe that’s it.” An avaricious glint shone in her eyes. “If you’d like, I could try rubbing it first.”

  Krieger scoffed at the offer. “I think I’ll reserve that privilege for myself. It’s not that I don’t trust you, of course, but…”

  “One more time, Krieger,” Baird said. “Don’t do this.”

  “You’re wasting your breath, Eve.” He took a deep breath, betraying only the slightest trace of trepidation, before rubbing the Lamp, just as Flynn had done a decade ago. “Arise, O Genie of the Lamp!”

  The effect was instantaneous, as though the imprisoned Djinn couldn’t wait to escape the confines of the ancient Lamp. Rising upon a billowing plume of luminous azure smoke, the Djinn towered above the carpet, his immense feet resting solidly upon empty air. Stone’s jaw dropped at the sight of the Djinn in all his terrible majesty; the blue-skinned giant made even a minotaur or the Big Bad Wolf seem like pipsqueaks by comparison.

  “FREE!” the Djinn boomed. “FREE TO SEEK VENGANCE UPON THE WORLD!”

  “All in good time.” Krieger raised his voice to address the looming genie. “I hold your Lamp now!”

  The Djinn peered down at him. A morning breeze rippled the surface of the genie’s iridescent blue substance. Blazing golden eyes gazed upon the awestruck mortals.

  “SO I SEE. AND WHO ART THOU, WHO IS CARRIED ALOFT BY THE VERY CARPET OF SOLOMON?”

  “The First of the Forty,” Krieger declared, “and your new master!”

  The Djinn scowled, as though vexed by the reminder of his bondage, but offered a grudging salaam to Krieger, dipping his massive head in respect and placing a log-sized finger against his brow.

  “VERY WELL, O CHIEF OF THIEVES. WHAT IS THY FIRST COMMAND?”

  Krieger beamed in triumph. “To begin with—”

  With all eyes on the Djinn, Baird drove her elbow into Krieger’s throat, cutting him off midsentence. He staggered backward, clutching his throat. His mouth opened, but no words emerged, only a strangled croak.

  His larynx, Stone realized. She crushed his larynx so he can’t make a wish.

  Marjanah raced to aid him, but not before Baird kicked his legs out from beneath him. Still croaking, he toppled onto the carpet, and the Lamp slipped from his grasp. Marjanah abruptly changed course and dived for the Lamp instead.

  “No one touch it! It’s mine!”

  Looming above, the Djinn laughed scornfully at the tussle on the carpet, declining to intervene in the absence of an expressed wish. His thundering laughter roiled the air and caused rocks and pebbles to tumble down the side of the cliff.

  “WHAT SPLENDID SPORT! SCURRY, LITTLE MORTALS, WHILE YOU CAN!”

  The commotion rocked the carpet, causing the Lamp to bounce randomly across the bucking rug. Eluding Marjanah, it came dangerously close to the fraying edge of the carpet. Stone grimaced at the thought of the Lamp tumbling down into the canyon where anyone could find it, maybe even Krieger and Marjanah once they regained control of the situation and the carpet.

  “Baird!” he shouted. “Over here!”

  “No!” Marjanah shrieked, drawing her blade. “It belongs to the Forty.”

  She pounced, about to claim the Lamp for her own, when Baird rushed forward and kicked it off the carpet toward the Librarians.

  “Catch!” she shouted.

  26

  2016

  The Lamp arced across the gap between the carpet and the rim of the canyon, descending toward the lookout point. Angry winds, stirred up by the Djinn, buffeted the Lamp as Marjanah shouted frantically at the carpet in Arabic, causing it to dive after the Lamp. Clearly, she was not letting the magical artifact get away from her so easily.

  “Spread out!” Stone shouted. “Somebody catch that Lamp!”

  I’ll try, Cassandra thought, although hand-eye coordination had never been her forte. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d managed to catch a book or scroll tossed to her from the Library’s mezzanine, let alone a tumbling magic lamp.

  But perhaps it had never truly mattered as much before.…

  As Stone and Ezekiel darted back and forth atop the Rim, trying to eyeball where exactly the Lamp would fall, Cassandra resorted to her brain instead. Her hands spread out before her eyes as she murmured to herself.

  “Given the weight of the Lamp and the angle of descent, allowing for variations in wind velocity and direction, as well as the estimated force of the kick, and any potential obstacles…” Her head turned toward the ranger’s station a few yards away. “There!”

  She sprinted toward the log cabin, arriving at the base of the south wall just as the Lamp struck the slanted roof of the station and ricocheted off it. Cassandra threw out her hands to catch it.

  Please, she thought, don’t let me mess this up.

  The Lamp landed squarely in her open palms.

  “Yes!” she squealed. “I got it!”

  Her momentary triumph was quickly dampened, however, when she saw the sorry shape the Lamp was in, now that the Djinn had been released once more. Krieger’s summons had been the last straw as far as the moribund Lamp was concerned; it was literally falling apart in her hands. Golden light, as bright as the harsh Arabian sun, escaped the widening cracks zigzagging across the disintegrating surface of the Lamp, which was growing ever hotter to the touch. Wafer-thin shards of jade flaked off the Lamp to land at her feet at a rapidly accelerating rate, like a landslide gaining speed and momentum. The legendary Lamp would soon be history.

  Returning the Djinn to the Lamp was no longer an option, Cassandra realized. At best, there was only time enough to make one last wish before the Djinn was finally free to lash out at the entire world, up to and including the Library.

  “YES! YES!” the terrifying blue giant exulted. “MY PRISON WALLS CRUMBLE AT LAST! AFTER UNTOLD AGES OF BITTER CAPTIVITY AND BONDAGE, MY FREEDOM IS AT HAND! NOW WILL THE WORLD TREMBLE BEFORE MY WRATH, NOW WILL ALL MANKIND SUFFER AS I HAVE SUFFERED … UNTIL THE VERY END OF ETERNITY!”

  “Not yet.” Cassandra struggled to hold the splintering Lamp together for just a few more moments. “You’re not free yet.”

  One more wish.

  For a fraction of a heartbeat, she was tempted once more to wish her tumor away, but, as ever, the greater good took precedent.

  “Genie!” she shouted above the increasingly violent winds. “I wish you … an unlimited imagination!”

  “WHAT?” He peered down at Cassandra in surprise. “WHAT DIDST THOU SAY?”

  His incandescent eyes blazed brighter than before as her wish took effect.

  “BY THE ETERNAL FLAME, I CAN SEE IT NOW! MY MIND IS AFIRE WITH POSSIBILITY! A THOUSAND AND ONE POTENTIALS IGNITE MY IMAGINATION … NAY, A MILLION … A HUNDRED MILLION … A HUNDRED HUNDRED MILLION.…”

  He clutched his skull, as though trying to hold in all the new ideas flooding his mind. The very atmosphere reflected his turmoil, growing wilder and more turbulent by the second. Storm clouds gathered overhead. Hot desert winds blew in every direction, so that Cassandra and the other Librarians were driven backward atop the North Rim, shielding their faces against the wind and grit. Dust devils swirled around th
e Djinn like random ideas bursting from his being. He tottered alarmingly above the canyon and the carpet as though drunk on his own feverish imaginings.

  “MY THOUGHTS RACE EVER FASTER AND FASTER, LIKE A HERD OF WILD STALLIONS STAMPEDING BEYOND MY CONTROL!”

  Cassandra knew the feeling. This was like one of her meltdowns, taken to the nth degree.

  Not so easy to handle, is it?

  Dismay contorted his face as he struggled to rein in his newly unbridled imagination, which was already coupled with nearly limitless power. “NO! IT IS TOO MUCH! I CANNOT CHOOSE. I CAN DO ANYTHING, BE ANYTHING, GO ANYWHERE.…”

  His iridescent flesh began to boil and steam away as he was literally torn in a billion directions at once. Expanding infinitely, the Djinn simultaneously grew ever thinner and less substantial until nothing remained but a few faint wisps of smoke that swiftly dispersed upon the raging winds, even as the Lamp crumbled to pieces in Cassandra’s grasp, leaving nothing but fragile shards and splinters behind.

  And that’s why genies don’t have much in the way of imaginations, Cassandra realized. They can’t handle them.

  She wiped her hands of the last bits and pieces of the Lamp.

  * * *

  The Djinn’s stormy evaporation whipped up the winds accosting the carpet, whose edges curled upward to try to hold onto its imperiled passengers. Baird appreciated the effort, but would have preferred seatbelts or a proper aerial extraction. She dropped facedown onto the pitching carpet to keep from being thrown from the rug.

  Smart girl, Cassandra, Baird thought. Hope I live to congratulate you.

  Marjanah, who had dived unsuccessfully for the Lamp only moments before, stayed down as well, but Krieger did the opposite. Scrambling to his feet, despite the choppy weather, he snatched desperately at the dissipating wisps of genie, which literally slipped between his fingers, leaving him empty-handed. Crazed eyes bulged from their sockets. An anguished croak escaped his lips.

  “Get down, you fool!” Marjanah snapped at Krieger. “Have you gone mad?”

  Possibly, Baird thought. Not that he was apparently all that sane to begin with.

  Paying no heed to his cohort’s furious exhortations, or the violent atmospheric conditions, the First of the Forty ranted silently while shaking his gloved fist at the vanished Djinn. An angry gust of wind nearly capsized the carpet, and he went tumbling over the edge, unable to scream even as he plummeted to his doom more than a mile below. Despite everything, Baird winced at the thought of her onetime friend and comrade crashing onto the rocks and rapids at the bottom of the Canyon.

  Damn you, Krieger. You didn’t have to check out like this.

  If the tragic loss of her leader affected Marjanah, it was impossible to tell. Intent on her own survival, she stabbed her dagger into the carpet to anchor herself to it, holding onto the hilt with both hands as she lay prone atop the storm-tossed rug.

  Not a bad idea, actually.

  Wriggling forward on her stomach, Baird grabbed onto the knife as well, clasping her hands over Marjanah’s and hanging on for dear life. She had no intention of joining Krieger at the bottom of the canyon, not if she could help it.

  “Let go, Guardian!” Marjanah spat. “You ruined everything, you and your friends!”

  “Ruined … saved. Depends on your perspective.”

  The weather was only slowly settling down in the wake of the Djinn’s departure, causing the carpet to waft about without direction. Calling upon her basic Arabic, which she’d picked up on various tours of duty in the Middle East, Baird shouted at the carpet.

  “Take us down to my friends! Gently!”

  “No! Don’t listen to her!” Marjanah commanded, her accent slightly better than Baird’s. “Take me away from my enemies!”

  “Belay that last order! Take us down!”

  “No, carry me away from these wretched Librarians!”

  The carpet jerked back and forth beneath them as the women fought verbally for control, shouting over each other. Its tassels vibrated in confusion.

  “Stop fighting me,” Baird yelled. “You’re going to get us both killed!”

  “And place my fate in your hands? Never!”

  A loud ripping sound hushed them both.

  Oh, crap, Baird thought.

  To her horror, the conflicted carpet tore in half across its width, yanking the women away from each other. Baird tried to hang onto Marjanah’s hand, just to hold the two halves of the carpet together, but the severed fragments were straining too hard to go their own ways. Baird lost her grip on the other woman’s hand as the bisected carpet dived toward opposite sides of the canyon.

  Not the safest way to fly, she concluded. Give me a plain old chopper any day.

  Forgetting about Marjanah for the moment, due to her own heart-pounding predicament, Baird held on tightly to the ragged edge of the carpet fragment as it descended at a roughly forty-five degree angle toward the lookout point where her friends were beckoning and calling out to her.

  “Baird!” Stone shouted. “Hurry! You’re losing altitude!”

  Tell me something I don’t know, she thought. Lacking Cassandra’s computer brain, Baird figured it was even money as to whether she made it to the North Rim—or crashed into the rocky red walls of the canyon.

  “Come on,” she urged the faltering carpet. “You can do it. Just a few yards more.”

  It was like landing a fighter jet on the deck of an aircraft carrier, except that ejecting was not an option. Coming in fast, and at far too steep an angle, the carpet looked as though it was going to slam into the cliff instead, but, with a final burst of power, it pulled up just enough to be able to clear the canyon wall after all. Gasping in relief, Baird still worried about how rough a landing she was in for.

  “Watch out!” Stone shouted to Cassandra and Ezekiel. “Here she comes!”

  The Librarians scrambled out of the way, clearing a path for the incoming carpet. Bracing herself for impact, Baird was startled when the half-sized fragment suddenly wrapped itself around her like a cocoon. Rolled up tightly inside the rug, like Cleopatra before Caesar, she hit the top of the North Rim and skidded across several yards of dirt and gravel before finally coming to a stop. Her heart racing, she gasped out loud, then conducted a quick bodily inventory. She was going to be bruised all over, but nothing felt broken, while the overlapping layers of carpet had apparently spared her from the mother of all skid burns.

  Bottom line: she was alive.

  How about that? Guess wonders never do cease.

  The exhausted carpet turned into dead weight. Footsteps stampeded toward her, and she heard the Librarians shouting words of encouragement. “Hang on!” Stone hollered. “We’ll get you out of there!”

  Within moments, they had unrolled her from the carpet and helped her to her feet. Sore and out of breath, she remained focused on the mission.

  “Marjanah?” she asked.

  “See for yourself,” Ezekiel said, nodding toward the canyon. “It’s not looking good for her.”

  Baird saw what he meant. Trying to make for the far side of the canyon, at least ten miles away, Marjanah and her half of the carpet had lost too much altitude already. Veering away from the cliff face at the last minute, the carpet spiraled down toward the Colorado River, dropping out of sight. Baird and the others rushed to the edge of the cliff just in time to see the carpet and its bloodthirsty rider splash down into the river and be washed away almost instantly.

  “You think she made it?” Cassandra asked.

  “Hard to tell from this height,” Stone said. “Not without binoculars.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Baird stepped away from the ledge. “No way is she—or the rest of the Forty—ever getting their hands on the Lamp or the Genie now. You guys took care of that.”

  “And without losing you,” Cassandra said. “Thank goodness!”

  “Works for me,” Baird decided. “Good job, team.”

  “Was there ever any doubt?” Ezekiel said. “You ha
d Ezekiel Jones on your side.”

  “Don’t remind me.” Stone started toward the ranger’s station. “So, back to the Library now?”

  “Maybe a quick detour first,” Cassandra said. “We still have one last errand to run.”

  27

  2016

  “So the Lamp is gone for good?”

  They’d found Dunphy at an all-night diner on Carson Avenue, feeding five-dollar bills into one of the ubiquitous slot machines. Given the rate he was going through them, as well as the size of the tip he had left for a very attractive waitress, Stone imagined that Gus would blow through what remained of his winnings in no time at all.

  “I’m afraid so,” Stone said. They had tried to scoop up the broken shards, just to be safe, but the fragile pieces had pretty much crumbled to powder at the slightest touch. “On the bright side, you’re not going to have as many sore losers and secret societies chasing you anymore.”

  “You got a point there,” Gus admitted. “I’m not going to miss that part, for sure.”

  With any luck, the Forty would cash in their chips and hightail it back to Baghdad now that their centuries-long quest for the Lamp had finally ended in failure. Certainly, they no longer had any reason to go after Dunphy, who was taking the loss of the Lamp much better than Stone had expected.

  “You okay with this?” he asked.

  Gus shrugged philosophically. “No winning streak lasts forever, but at least I got to be a real high roller for a while.” He smiled at the memory. “Although, to be honest, gambling wasn’t quite as exciting when you knew you were always going to come out ahead. Where’s the thrill in that?”

  “You learn anything else from this experience?” Baird asked. “About relying on luck perhaps?”

  “Oh, sure! Lady Luck is fickle, but when you crap out you just gotta keep on gambling until your luck changes again.”

  “Not exactly the lesson I had in mind,” Baird said dryly, “but … whatever.”

  “Which reminds me.” Cassandra fished a copper (well, mostly zinc) coin out of her purse. “I think I have something that belongs to you.”

  “My lucky penny!” Gus beamed with joy. “Now I know I’m going to win big again … one of these days.”