Djinnx'd (The Tamar Black Saga #1)

by Nicola Rhodes

  Tamar considered. ‘You could always ...’ she stopped, biting her lip.

  ‘Always what?’

  ‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘I’m not allowed ... God, for all I know breaking the rules is what set this thing after me in the first place. Old Askphrit – the νόθος’ did say it would be bad if I did.’

  ‘What rule?’

  Tamar cleared her throat and recited in a pompous manner. ‘Rule seventeen – No Djinn may influence the wishes of his/her master/mistress in any way. Not even if: (a) The master/mistress asks for suggestions. (b) The master/mistresses life is endangered or (c) The ...’

  ‘Okay, okay I get the idea. But you’ve already ...’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Can’t we sort of – cheat? If you’ve got a good idea then maybe if I try to guess, and you can – oh I don’t know – give me a sign if I’m close. Would that work?’

  ‘Tell you what,’ she said holding up four fingers. ‘I’ll give you a clue.’

  ‘Four? – Four what? Oh I get it, four words right?’

  Tamar nodded and held up a single finger.

  ‘One word?’

  Tamar looked exasperated and held up four fingers again.

  ‘Okay, four words?’

  Nod. One finger.

  ‘Ah, first word?’

  Nod. Then she began to act out the word.

  ‘Um – sounds like – swim?’ guessed Denny, ‘swimming? And er … gulping? Oh, fish? – fish?’

  Nod. She tugged her ear to indicate…

  ‘Sounds like, sounds like – yes, don’t start swimming again, sound like fish – wish?’

  Nod.

  ‘Yes, obviously, um – second word?’

  Nod.

  ‘Fourth word? Oh four – Four? – for?’ wish for, yes, yes I know that. Wish for what?’

  She tugged her ear.

  ‘Sounds like – four again. Um, bore – no sorry obviously not, er – door?’

  Shake.

  ‘Law?’

  Shake.

  ‘Claw? – saw? – Floor? ... sorry.’

  Tamar held up a hand.

  ‘Okay, start again. Third word – counting? No – er, bigger?’ He looked down self-consciously for a second, but she was shaking her head furiously.

  ‘Um, what are you doing? Oh – more?’

  Nod.

  ‘Okay, wish – for – more. Okay, carry on then.’

  Unbelievably, Denny still had not got the point. He just did not think the right way. Tamar rolled her eyes and held up four fingers resignedly.

  ‘Okay, fourth word?’

  Nod.

  ‘Sounds like – fish, again? No – a longer word, um fishing – fishes?’

  Nod.

  ‘Hang on – wish for more fishes?’ Denny was perplexed.

  Tamar gave him a dirty look and tugged her ear sharply.

  ‘Oh yes,’ he said apologetically, ‘sounds like. So, wish for more – wishes? Wish for more wishes?’

  She nodded in relief and collapsed into a seated position, albeit two feet in the air.

  Denny ignored this as mere showing off, ‘I can do that?’ he asked.

  Tamar nodded again.

  ‘I think you can talk now.’

  ‘Oh – yes. Yes, you can wish for anything.’

  ‘So, let me get this straight, you’re saying ...’

  ‘Me? I never said a word.’

  ‘Okay, understood, but – I can? If you need me to, I can wish for as many wishes as I – you – we need? That’s handy to know.’

  ‘So, now can we concentrate on the clue?’

  ‘Yeah, dig it out.’

  * * *

  ‘Does it do something, do you think?’

  ‘It’s just a doll.’

  ‘Action figure.’

  ‘Whatever? It’s perfectly ordinary as far as I can tell.’

  ‘No spells or anything? – Don’t take its pants off.’

  ‘Why not?’ laughed Tamar. ‘Look, see it’s got less down there than a Boy Band. Pull its head off.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why not? – Oh give it here.’ She snatched it and wrenched the head off, which proved absolutely nothing.

  ‘Okay, so maybe it’s not the doll itself ...’

  ‘Action figure.’

  ‘Whatever, maybe it symbolises something.’

  Denny groaned. ‘We’ve been down this road before.’

  ‘Maybe this time it’s the right road.’

  ‘You and your symbolism.’

  Tamar ignored this. ‘So, it’s a ninja doll, right?’

  ‘Action – (sigh) yes – ninja, so?’

  ‘Well, what does that mean to you?’

  ‘Absolutely nothing.’

  ‘You’re not even trying. So, ninja – martial arts – silent killers – assassins – um.

  ‘See, it doesn’t mean anything to you either.’

  ‘It does,’ she said, indignantly. ‘It means – it means. It means that this damn thing is no damn use at all. Damn, damn, damn!’ She flung the toy to the floor. Denny picked it up and looked at it thoughtfully.

  ‘Unless ...’

  ‘Unless what?’ she asked hopefully.

  ‘Just – give me a minute,’

  Tamar waited.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure,’ he said eventually. ‘I had one of these – in fact, I think this is mine. Or rather it was. Hang on a minute if it is – yes, there it is.’ He pointed to his initials scratched into its back, so faint you could hardly see it. ‘I lost it, I remember now, when I was ten. It was in Scunthorpe, in this awful hotel – my parents ...’

  ‘What hotel?’

  ‘I can’t remember, I was ten.’

  ‘But it might be important.’

  ‘Sorry, I might recognise it if I saw it again, but just wait. Let’s not go off all half-cocked, let’s think about this. Maybe the clue is me, not the doll – action figure.’

  ‘Or something to do with your past – or just the past in general.’

  ‘Which would bring us back to the hotel where I lost it. I guess that is the connection, in fact, I’m sure of it.’

  ‘Be a bit of a coincidence,’ she said doubtfully.

  ‘So, what else could it be?’

  ‘I don’t know. But, how likely is it that the next clue is at a hotel that you just happen to have been to before? What about the other people who do this quest thing?’

  ‘Maybe – I don’t know. Maybe they get a different clue that leads them to the hotel, and it was just luck that I’d already been there.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ She stretched out an arm. ‘What am I doing?’

  ‘Reaching,’ he said resignedly.

  ‘It’s far more likely that the clue is about the past, and that everybody gets a clue that reminds them of the past.’

  ‘That’s another possibility,’ agreed Denny. ‘But we could do this all night. We have to try the hotel first, if only to eliminate it. What have we got to lose?’

  ‘Okay.’ Tamar was sullen.

  ‘And if that doesn’t turn anything up ...’

  ‘When it doesn’t turn anything up.’

  ‘... I’ll try some regressive therapy or something.’

  ‘I’m right,’ she insisted. ‘But we’ll try it your way.’

  ‘Good,’ said Denny. ‘Now I won’t have to use my Djinn master powers on you. You know what, I bet the quest is different for everybody, sort of tailored to the individual.’

  ‘Which would make you right,’ she said sneeringly.

  ‘What’s the matter with you? What does it matter who’s right, so long as we get the answer? Don’t be so precious. You worked out the first two clues; it’s about time I started pulling my weight in this operation.’

  ‘I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s just – I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m not used to needing anybody’s help, I suppose.�
��

  ‘Well, I need you too you know, so that’s okay.’

  Tamar cheered up. ‘I’m glad you said that, because, actually, I think you might be right, and that makes it easier to admit it.’

  *

  ‘I’m getting sick of this dreary place,’ said Tamar grumpily. ‘Why did you say your family came here again?’

  ‘It’s October,’ said Denny. ‘What did you expect? Anyway, we couldn’t afford the Seychelles.’

  ‘Well, you could now – so to speak,’ said Tamar wickedly. ‘I could just fancy a day ...’

  ‘Oh no you don’t,’ he told her sternly. ‘Who was it said we mustn’t get distracted?’

  ‘We’ve been here a week, and you haven’t recognised a thing yet. I just thought – I mean, you should have some compensation. Much more of this and you will get fired.’

  ‘Nah, Bo’ll never notice; he never does.’

  They sat on a bench and watched the obligatory sweet old couple walking by hand in hand, still in love after all those years.

  ‘I hope I never look that old,’ said Tamar.

  ‘Well you won’t, will you?’ said Denny. ‘I will though – if I live that long.’

  There was a silence. ‘Denny?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Do you ever wish ...’ She started again. ‘Do you ever … regret opening my bottle? I mean it’s messed up your life really, hasn’t it? You know lots of people wish for adventure and end up regretting it. It’s never what they hoped for. And you, well you didn’t even ask for this,’ she rushed on. ‘You just wanted a quiet life. You never wanted adventure, did you? And then I show up and turn your life upside down. I mean you didn’t have to do any of this and I know why you are, but … don’t you ever wish it had never happened?’

  ‘No, never,’ said Denny, surprising himself. ‘Maybe it’s been good for me. It’s not been easy sometimes, but maybe it’s just what I needed. Never a dull moment eh?’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, really. Maybe I was always a closet thrill seeker.’

  ‘No,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘I don’t think so – maybe I’m not the only one who has changed.’

  ‘Well, maybe you coming along sort of woke me up or something. It’s probably destiny or some such bull. Anyway I’ve never regretted it.’

  ‘Even when Slammer was pounding your head into mush?’

  ‘Don’t exaggerate. And yeah, maybe then just for a second or two.’

  ‘The thing is,’ he continued, ‘that’s when I realized that I would rather die with you than live without you.’

  There was an embarrassed pause. ‘I have got to stop saying things like that, haven’t I?

  ‘What I mean is,’ he continued after a pause, ‘I couldn’t go back to how my life was before. It was so empty – you have no idea.’

  ‘I think I might have some idea.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose you do. The thing is I never realized it, I thought my life was just fine – well okay anyway, well, not terrible at least.’

  ‘What you never had, you never miss,’ she said.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘So, we go on?’

  ‘And when we get to the end?’

  ‘We find something else to do.’

  ~ Chapter Seventeen ~

  Kelon almost regretted dusting the little man. The other spies might not be as annoying as he, but neither were they as efficient. It had been frustrating to learn of Tamar’s close shave and lucky escape, and taking it out on the messenger had been some release. But the truth of it was it had been an excuse to get rid of the little weasel for a while. He would have to be brought back eventually, but not yet – not yet. Kelon baulked at the idea. The guy was just so irritating, and, furthermore, Kelon did not trust him.

  While Kelon thus pondered, Tamar and Denny were closing in. And Kelon, without a spy, had no idea.

  * * *

  ‘That’s it,’ said Denny, pointing excitedly. ‘That’s the hotel.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Tamar asked.

  ‘I remember now, that awful tree swing there at the side; I almost broke my neck on that. And the “No Vacancies” sign, it’s still broken. God it really used to piss me off.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because it’s broken; it’s annoying.’

  ‘You’re quite anal aren’t you?

  ‘So what do we do now?’ she added, when he did not answer this.

  ‘I guess we book a room and take it from there.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘They walked into the – well, charitably you would call it the lobby, but actually it was more of an awful hole – with a desk. A thin distracted looking woman with a lot of frizzy hair and a penchant for occult jewellery and embroidered blouses looked up and smiled vaguely.

  ‘Miss Trenchard?’ said Denny.

  ‘Yes dearie,’ said the woman, burying her face in a lace hanky. Women of this type always call people “dearie”. It was a fair bet, Tamar thought, that she threw pots and pressed flowers too.

  ‘Oh, um – double room please.’ They had discussed this outside and decided that they could not afford two rooms and also that they should stick together in case of trouble.

  The woman raised an eyebrow but only said. ‘How many nights dearie?’

  Denny looked at Tamar.

  ‘Just one,’ she said decisively. ‘We can always extend it,’ she added to Denny. ‘I don’t think business is exactly booming.’

  ‘Well it is October.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Okay, just one night, please.’

  The woman looked up for the first time. Tamar met her eyes. ‘Euphemia?’

  The woman raised her hanky again.

  ‘Don’t bother Euphemia, I know it’s you.’ Tamar told her, forthrightly.

  ‘Who the hell is Euphemia?’ asked Denny.

  ‘An old frie – acquaintance,’ said Tamar. ‘A witch, in fact, so I guess you were right. The clue led here; I guess it’s like you said, different paths – same destination.’

  ‘Clue?’ said Euphemia. ‘Oh right, it’s like that is it? – in that case, right this way.’ She parted a beaded a curtain behind her and gestured into the adjoining room.

  Denny and Tamar slid awkwardly past the desk and stepped through.

  ‘You’re not coming with us?’ asked Tamar.

  ‘Oh no dearie, that’s just for you – nothing to do with me. I just point the way.’

  Tamar noticed a strange look on the woman’s face, almost like triumph. They had just gone through when they heard her call. ‘So, will you still be wanting that room?’

  *

  ‘Do you get the feeling they were expecting us?’ said Denny.

  ‘Who’s they? I don’t see anyone,’

  ‘No, but I mean – look at the place.’

  ‘What was that you were saying before about destiny?’

  ‘Destiny?’

  ‘It’s just funny that’s all. We keep running into people we’ve met before. And you’ve been here before, and Euphemia, you recognised her too, because she was here what was it ten…?’

  ‘Fourteen.’

  ‘Fourteen years ago. And you losing your doll ...’

  ‘Action figure,’ Denny interjected automatically.

  ‘... here of all places. Then you get it back just in time to lead us back here. It’s one hell of a coincidence.’

  ‘Not coincidence – magic. Remember magic? Magic quest, it’s supposed to be mysterious – you taught me that. I mean do you think that everybody who walks through these curtains ends up here?’

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘So, what’s wrong with you? You’re thinking like a human – like I used to. All this talk about destiny and coincidence, that’s bull, and you know it. Anyway, I don’t believe in destiny, load of hogswill. People have free will; they make their own choices. You said it yourself; I didn’t have to do any of this;
I could have chosen not to.’

  ‘That’s true,’ admitted Tamar. ‘If anybody knows that humans have free will, it’s me. And I‘ve seen enough to know that destiny’s a myth and that there are no coincidences. Human thinking eh – it must be catching. Soon I’ll be thinking that I have free will too.’

  ‘Soon,’ said Denny. ‘In the meantime, all this,’ he waved a hand, ‘it’s just “standard”.’ And he smiled wickedly.

  It did seem as though they were expected, although it would be difficult to say why exactly. Probably it was because what should have been, through those dingy curtains, a dingy “parlour” was, in fact, a gleaming waiting room such as might be found in a private clinic or a dentist’s office. There were just two chairs. ‘One each,’ as Denny observed, with a sign above saying “Sit Here” and an arrow.

  Denny was inclined to take this personally. ‘Just as if we were terminally stupid,’ he said.

  There was an unmanned desk and a potted plant, (it took them some time to work out what was unusual about this – it was not dead) and a table with the obligatory pile of out of date magazines, although these turned out, on closer inspection, to be out of date by up to 4000 years and bore titles such as “Which God?” and “Dragon Breeders Monthly”. A sign above the desk read “Thank you for not smoking”, ‘How do they know we’re not going to?’ asked Tamar. (She was just like that.)

  All in all, it seemed to be a perfectly ordinary waiting room – apart from the magazines and the fact that there were no doors. The entrance had become a smooth wall behind them.

  ‘I don’t like it,’ Tamar said. ‘It’s like being in a bottle – no way out, until they let you out.’

  ‘Don’t,’ pleaded Denny. ‘Claustrophobia, remember?’

  ‘So,’ he changed the subject, ‘are we waiting to see Kelon, do you think?’

  ‘Could be, maybe she’s busy.’

  ‘Well I hope it won’t be too long.’

  * * *

  ‘T,’ said Denny.

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Um – C.’

  ‘Nope – ha, hangman.’

  ‘Okay, so what was it then?’

  Tamar filled in the blanks.

  ‘Neighbours?’ said Denny disgustedly. ‘I should have got that; I had all the vowels and the N and the B.’

  ‘It’s always easy when you know the answer,’ said Tamar.

  ‘In hangman as it is in life,’ he replied, absently.

  They had played charades and eye spy (this was a pretty short game since the room was bare and did not even have windows) and had then turned to hangman. Denny being one of those people who always carries a pad and pencil in case he should need it. This was the first time he had ever used it since he was too afraid to ask girls for their phone numbers and fleeing criminals – whose number plates he could take down – had been scarce in his life.