‘Why does it have to make sense?’ objected Denny. ‘Since when are you so literal? Besides, it’s our only chance. There’s no window, the grate’s too high and we have no tools strong enough to dig through a stone wall – a stone – wall ...’ He broke off.
‘What?’ she followed his gaze. ‘What is he doing?’
‘He appears to be drawing a door on the wall,’ said Denny, clearly perplexed. And indeed the man was drawing a door on the wall with a shaky hand, using a small stone.
‘I told you,’ said Tamar. ‘Crackers.’
‘I create,’ said the old man proudly.
Tamar and Denny looked at each other and shrugged. Tamar shook her head.
‘Software,’ said the old man, obscurely as far as Denny was concerned.
But for Tamar the flashbulb popped. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘That’s how everything in here is created. They took an empty file and created new software. In theory, we can too.’ She looked questioningly at the old man. He nodded gleefully. ‘Yes, yes, I create – see,’ he pointed at the door, no longer a shaky chalk outline, but a proper door.
‘Amazing,’ breathed Denny.
The old man tugged at the door. ‘Sticks a bit,’ he muttered. ‘There.’ The door opened into a tunnel, which climbed upwards. ‘Off you go then,’ he said. ‘Crazy old man, eh? I showed you, didn’t I? Heh, heh, heh.’
Denny and Tamar scrambled for the door. ‘Thank you,’ said Denny, poking his head back round the door. ‘Sure you won’t come with us?’
‘No, thanks, I just ate,’ said the old man obscurely. Denny shook his head.
* * *
The old man’s parting remark was explained when after climbing for what seemed an eternity they came out of the tunnel into a large kitchen.
‘I guess if you’re going to create a tunnel out of a dungeon, it may as well be to somewhere useful,’ Tamar observed.
‘About that,’ said Denny. ‘Could we have been doing that all along, making doorways and stuff?’
‘I suppose so, I never thought of it. I kept thinking of this as a real place; you have to admit it’s pretty convincing.’
‘It might have come in handy that’s all. It might explain a few things too.’ He looked thoughtful.
The staff of the kitchen ignored them as they passed through, and the green baize door opened out onto the same dim corridor that they had passed through already.
‘That’s convenient,’ said Denny. Somebody had to say it, and it was Denny who did.
‘Maybe it’s not a very long program,’ said Tamar.
* * *
They found the room again easily enough. The trapdoor still gaped open in the floor, and they skirted warily around it and stood in front of the mirror. It seemed absurdly easy after all the trials they had passed through.
‘Oh no!’ wailed Tamar.
‘What?’ said Denny, alarmed.
‘Just look at me. I look like Courtney Love.’
She did indeed look pretty dishevelled. Her clothes were torn and dirty, and so was her face. She had a cut over one eye and all her nails were broken. But the biggest torment to her mind was ... ‘My hair!’ she wailed, ‘look at it.’ Birds would have disdained to nest in it. She looked like the bride of Frankenstein after a nasty encounter with a combine harvester, all this nor helped by the extra adornment of clumps of straw sticking out at odd angles, making her look like a crazed hillbilly.
‘What?’ Denny was annoyed. ‘That’s it? Honestly, I ask you, is this the time?’ He softened. ‘Look, I don’t look any better.’ He gestured to his own torn clothes and tangled hair.
‘I can’t see any difference,’ she said.
‘Concentrate,’ he snapped, offended. ‘Magic mirror – not for admiring yourself in. What do we do?’
‘It doesn’t look magic,’ she forced herself back to the matter in hand. ‘It’s not shimmering or anything.’ She touched it. ‘Seems solid enough. Perfectly ordinary, hmm.’ She closed her eyes and walked into it. ‘Ouch!’
‘Denny tried not to laugh, unsuccessfully. They stood and looked at it. They looked at it some more. It completely failed to do anything magic at all.
‘It’s not a flaming magic mirror at all!’ said Denny. ‘I should have known; the whole point of sending us to this room was that,’ he pointed to the trapdoor.
The logic of this seemed indisputable.
‘Let’s go back and beat it out of him,’ suggested Tamar, now thoroughly back on form. Denny nodded; they turned to go, and then Tamar snapped her fingers. ‘Wait,’ she said. She pushed the mirror hard on one side of the gilt frame. The whole thing spun like a revolving door.
‘How did you know?’
‘I didn’t, I just thought, that trapdoor had to be protecting something, and if it wasn’t a magic mirror, then perhaps it was just a hokey old hidden door. I used to watch “Scooby Doo” a lot,’ she added, as if this was some kind of explanation.
They walked into a dark chamber, stepping carefully over a large pile of dust; somehow it just felt wrong to walk on it. Facing them was a large ornate throne and sitting on it was a tall, imposing woman who looked, for some reason, extremely nervous. Kelon at last.
~ Chapter Twenty Nine ~
Denny could not think of anything to say. Probably because, on some level, he had never expected to get this far, and it wasn’t nearly over yet. Suddenly he felt tired; he just wanted to sleep for a week. He thought about where he was; the whole thing was ludicrous. Here he was, standing in a mystic chamber, in a castle, in a deleted file of the universe! With a dishevelled Djinn, a sorceress and a pile of dust that he could have sworn was looking at him. How in the hell had he got here?
Tamar, on the other hand, was suddenly animated. She was glaring at Kelon with a disbelieving look on her face. ‘Nice outfit,’ she said sneeringly. Her face was just inches from that of the sorceress. She strolled around to the back of the throne and put her hands on the woman’s shoulders and leaned over to speak in her ear. ‘I’m not sure it’s really you though.’ She slid round to face her again. ‘I suppose I shouldn’t be narrow-minded.’ She took the woman’s chin in her hand. ‘But I didn’t know you swung that way.’
‘Hello Tamar,’ sighed the sorceress. ‘I suppose I should have known you would catch up with me in the end.’
‘I can’t believe you thought this “disguise” would fool me.’
Denny had a sense of time rushing by, a feeling that they had suddenly jumped to the end, and he had missed some steps. He tried to catch up. ‘Who ...?’ he started. ‘Do you know each other?’
Tamar smiled. ‘This,’ she said, jerking a thumb at the sorceress, ‘is Askphrit – the νόθος’ She turned to Askphrit ‘I always knew I’d know you again, no matter what you looked like. Although I have to admit, I never expected to find you “en travesti”.’
‘I knew you would too,’ said Askphrit resignedly, ‘Why do you think I tried so hard to keep you away?’
‘Yeah? Well you lose.’
‘It was inevitable I suppose. What I did, well … you were never just going to let it go, were you? I should have known there was no point trying to hide from you. But I had to try all the same.’
‘So, why the drag? – And for God’s sake, change. We’ve found you now.’
Askphrit changed back into himself. ‘The “drag” as you call it, was to confuse the trail in case you ever came looking for me. I must confess. I never anticipated that you would come looking for Kelon. A miscalculation it would seem.’
Denny suddenly found his voice. ‘You tried to kill us,’ he exploded.
‘It was you or me,’ said Askphrit mildly. ‘That was how I saw it.’
‘Will your magic work in here?’ Denny asked Tamar.
‘A wish will,’ said Tamar grimly. ‘Why else would he try so hard to keep us away? A wish is technically your power you see. Well, your will an
yway. He can’t block that; no matter how much he wants to.’
They looked at each other and nodded.
‘Okay,’ said Denny. ‘Let’s do it.’
‘Know what to say?’ she asked. ‘Denny nodded shortly. The air was thick with destiny; it felt as if time had slowed down – stopped – reversed. The room vanished, and they were caught up in a vortex, a tornado of time. Destiny likes to do things properly. They were back at the beginning – Tamar’s bedroom – Ancient Greece. For some reason, Denny did not need to be told. It seemed fitting. When his head had stopped spinning, Denny took a deep breath.
‘I wish,’ he said. ‘That Kelon here, the sorceress, formerly known as Askphrit the Djinn was a human – a mere mortal – there.’ He breathed out and looked questioningly at Tamar, who nodded and smiled. It was done.
‘It worked?’ asked Denny anxiously.
‘Of course – hey shall we just kill him? – only joking.’
Askphrit looked resigned. ‘All right, so I’m human. I get it; I’m you and you’re me – so what?’
‘Denny?’ she smiled. ‘This is it, last wish.’
Askphrit looked worried, as light dawned. ‘Last wish?’
‘Got the bottle?’ Denny asked.
‘Right here.’ She waved it threateningly at Askphrit, who cringed.
‘I think I’d rather you just killed me,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘I expect you would.’
‘It won’t work,’ said Askphrit desperately.
‘Then why are you sweating?’ asked Tamar wickedly. Then, abruptly, she froze.
‘Oh no – not now!’
Denny did not even have to ask. ‘Where? How? How can it be here? I’m here.’
A dark cloud had gathered and was advancing on Tamar. Askphrit laughed.
‘Just do it!’ she croaked. ‘If it kills me, it’ll be too late.’
‘I wish Askphrit was a Djinn again,’ shouted Denny. And so he was. He howled with rage as the shackles appeared on his wrists. Denny thrust out the bottle, and Askphrit started to dissolve. Denny ignored him.
‘Tamar!’ The cloud had enveloped her and she was held floating in the air, helpless. It started to sparkle; it would have looked pretty if it had not been so menacing. Then, suddenly it vanished; she dropped to the ground. Denny ran to her and lifted her head into his lap. It was just as he had seen it. ‘Please don’t be dead.’
She opened her eyes. ‘Okay, if you insist.’
‘Oh, thank God – it let you go?’
Tamar had other things on her mind. ‘You got him?’
Denny pointed to the bottle ‘Safe and sound.’
‘That explains it,’ she said. ‘I’m human again.’
Denny gaped, not for the first time he was lost for words. Of all the possible outcomes, this was the last thing he had expected.
He found his voice. ‘How? What? Are you sure?’
‘Pretty sure.’
‘But – you look exactly the same.’
‘I do?’ She was unreasonably pleased about this. ‘I suppose it’s like my mother said. If you make a face – you’ll stick like it.’*
*[Yes, mothers really have been saying things like this since the dawn of time]
‘But – why are you human at all? I don’t understand.’
‘Neither do I?’
‘The natural order has been restored.’ As neither of them had said this, they spun round (as they tended to do rather a lot). The voice appeared to have come from a large pile of dust.
‘ ...?’
‘Oh, sorry,’ said the pile of dust, and it formed into a small spiralling dust-cloud that became a dapper little man standing there brushing off his sleeves as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He looked vaguely familiar.
‘Perhaps I should explain,’ he said. ‘Pick up that bottle and we’ll go back.’ He produced a laptop from his briefcase.
Back in the chamber of the now former sorceress Denny asked. ‘Why were you a pile of dust?’
‘Hmm, yes she, I mean he, did that a lot. Nasty temper.’
‘And you let him? I mean you obviously ...’
‘I couldn’t let him know who I really was, or what I was up to.’
‘And who are you? And what were you up to?’
‘Righting a wrong,’ said the little man. ‘Took me long enough too. Finding you,’ he pointed at Denny, ‘was the hardest part. Or rather waiting for you to be born.’
‘ME? But I’m just ... you could look me up in “Who’s nobody”.’
‘On the contrary,’ said the little man. ‘You are a direct descendent of Hector of Troy a great hero and an inveterate meddler and do-gooder, well the whole family were really, you may have heard of a more recent member of the family “Sir Ector?” Very big in medieval times, no? Well heroics are in the blood.’
‘I knew it,’ said Tamar. ‘Well, not about your antecedents but ...’
Denny was shaking his head. ‘My family ...’ he began. Then he changed his mind.
‘Why is Tamar human again?’
‘I think I’d better tell you the whole story,’ said the little man. ‘Sit down, sit down.’
They sat.
‘First of all, my name is Clive, and I am a – well a sort of clerk I suppose, I keep the files in order, I’m not the only one of course. There are hundreds nay, thousands of us.
‘Anyway, when this reprobate,’ here he indicated the bottle. ‘Pulled his little stunt, well, you’ve no idea of the chaos, I was exceedingly angry about it. It took us ages to sort it all out. Of course, we did it in the end, and that should have been the end of it, but I was still very upset. It wasn’t really right anyway; things were still out of order, and the longer he was roaming around free, the more things went wrong, oh the extra work it caused ... Well, I decided to put it right you see? It was a complicated business of course; finding him was easy enough. I just followed the trail of destruction in the fabric of reality, but persuading him to set up in a disused file, that was harder. The becoming female thing was all his idea, but perhaps it was to be expected. I did play on his fears rather strongly to get him to do it.
‘So, then I changed my appearance and offered my services, I suggested the quest, since he was going to need magical associates, helping those who could later help him was a convenient way to make a living; a tried and tested method, and I knew it would appeal to him. And, in time, I took over the handling of the clues. Once I’d done all that, I set out to bring you here, and for that, I needed him.’ He indicated Denny. ‘Of course, it was a gamble – you were right young man, about free will; you could have done nothing, but I had a feeling about you. You heroic types are all so predictable. – You know,’ he mused. ‘I thought you’d be taller.’ He shook himself. ‘So, where was I? Yes, I set up the plan, guided you if you will. Then, when the time was ripe I brought you together and kept my fingers crossed.
‘Wait a minute,’ interrupted Denny. ‘I know you; you were the announcer at the wrestling match.’
‘Yes indeed. You have both met me many times. Coincidence indeed!’ he snorted at Tamar. ‘By the way, sorry about the beetroot, I was out of pickles.’
‘That was you?’ said Tamar, stunned.
‘Yes, indeed, also – ’ he counted off on his fingers, ‘the young witch in Basingstoke, who gave you Kelon’s name. And before that the talkative mermaid who led you to the witches, the stag who first led you into Hank’s little forest that was a long time ago. And, let’s see if you remember this one. "Need a room dearie?".’
‘Miss Trenchard? ‘Euphemia?’ they both said together
‘The little man laughed. ‘Oh, yes – a cast of thousands, in fact.’
‘And I bet you were that old man in New York too, weren’t you?’ said Denny.
‘Old men,’ he winked, ‘are my specialty. ‘They nev’r comes back sonny– no nev’r –
heh, heh, heh. Well I had to get you out of that dungeon somehow. You weren’t coming up with anything. By the way,’ he turned to Denny, ‘you’re not actually fired. I made that phone call. Sorry about that, but you were so close, you had to start focusing on the job, no distractions.’
‘So, it was you who took my doll?’ said Denny.
‘Action figure,’ said Tamar, automatically.
‘You weren’t the man who set the ninjas on us were you?’
‘No, no, I was masquerading as a pile of dust at the time. Incidentally, that’s also why it took me so long to phone you with the last clue.’
‘But why go to so much trouble?’ asked Denny. ‘Why not just bring us to him?’
‘I couldn’t do that. You had to do it yourselves. There are rules you know, about free will and so on. All I could do was guide you. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, well, how well the plan worked you can see for yourselves. Tamar Black is no longer Djinn; she is human again, as she always should have been. But ...’ He grinned. ‘The wish you made still stands you know. Old Askphrit – the νόθος’ may have twisted it to suit his own ends, and that has been undone. But a wish is a wish. It can’t be undone. So now, you are a human with the powers of a Djinn. The best of both worlds you might say. What do you think of that?’ If he expected an answer, he did not get one. He got a question instead, from Denny.
‘So, is she safe now, from the, from ...?’
‘The reality? Yes, quite safe, it already got her as you saw; it was always meant to of course. You see, making the wish was what caused it to take her. Reality caught up with her just as she became human again and she became human because reality caught up with her. A photo finish, you might say.’
‘It got her before that,’ said Denny angrily.
Clive looked grave. ‘I know; I was a bit worried about that. I’m not entirely sure why it came after her so soon; it was probably after you formed the intention to wish Askphrit back into his bottle. As soon as you did that, the die was cast. If you succeeded you were bound to become human again, you see? You even started acting more human, depending on another, feeling hope and fear, falling in love.’
Denny glanced at Tamar. She blushed. She was human now, after all.
‘So, I think that’s all, unless you have any questions.’
‘Why was I so afraid of this place when Denny wasn’t?’
Djinnx'd (The Tamar Black Saga #1) Page 20
