We rose, carefully. We came to a huge branch, and guided around it. Then another, and a third. Now the fog thinned somewhat, and we could see neighboring trunks. Their lateral branches formed an increasingly thick lattice as they interwove, making a firm framework.
And here within the cloud was a city! Houses with their foundations anchored to the lattice, rising parallel to the diminishing trunks. Little light diffused here, and no direct sunlight. The walls seemed to be of translucent glass, showing vague outlines of the occupants. I could not tell whether they were human or avian or a combination. But the city itself was phenomenal, the houses connected by precarious bridges and walkways through the roiling mist. There were occasional flashes of lightning reflecting from the walls, brightening the city in the manner of a faceted diamond, followed by muted booms of thunder, and light rain fell. Now I saw that some of the buildings had adjacent gardens, with foliage hardy enough to prosper even in perpetual twilight; those plants still needed water.
“Interesting,” I said. “But we’re not tourists. They’ll be after us soon. Where’s the woman?” I carefully did not identify her, as we did not know which woman she was.
“In a cave in the highest peak of the mountain,” Duban said. He evidently had a good memory for detail. “Guarded by a serpent large enough to swallow two camels whole.”
“Which explains why the roc doesn’t frequent this area,” I said. “That serpent would not be easy prey.” I was trying for a bit of humor myself, but it wasn’t working well.
“And there it is!” Sinbad said, pointing.
There beyond the forest of trees and buildings was the top of the mountain, and there was a ledge around it where a serpent could slither, and the dark mouth of a cave.
Too pat, Sylvie thought. I had forgotten that I now wore her on my finger.
Thus prompted, my suspicion circuit came on. “We know this whole business is a trap,” I said. “We’ve seen the perfidy of the natives below. Now we are seeing no one, not even the serpent. Our access to the cave is clear. What can it be except the teeth of the trap? We go there at our peril.”
Sinbad looked at me, nodding. “What do you recommend?”
“That we look for the maiden elsewhere. Maybe they have her on display as a trophy. Maybe she’s the plaything of the great wizard this lofty city serves. We can surprise them. They won’t expect us to strike away from the cave. Maybe we can find her and carry her away before they realize.”
“Maybe,” Sinbad agreed uncertainly.
I steered the carpet away from the cave. At that point huge fangs appeared and the cave collapsed. It was the monstrous mouth of the serpent! We had almost flown right into it.
“I think I had better work on my repulsion magic,” Duban said. “So that a mouth will not be able to crush us like mice.”
“You do that,” Sinbad said shakily.
I guided the carpet rapidly around the city, weaving between trunks and buildings. And there suddenly was a palace edifice, larger than the other buildings, its walls not translucent but transparent. Within it was a beautiful nude young woman. My lost wife.
“My wife!” Sinbad breathed.
“Myrrh,” Duban said.
Just so. This was the origin of the woman we had seen below, whoever she really was. They had not hidden her in the fake cave. We had to fetch her and get her out of Cloudland. Only then could we properly question her and ascertain her true nature. After that maybe we would know what to do next.
The woman was standing before the wall, peering out. She looked unutterably sad, as if struggling not to be resigned to her fate. Obviously she could not go far, even if she escaped the palace, because of her nudity. Not that she had anything to be ashamed of there; she was as lovely a creature as had ever graced the mortal world.
Well... Sylvie thought.
“Next to you,” I murmured, rubbing a finger over the ring.
She inhaled. Or at least her breasts seemed to become larger. I quickly removed my finger. She seemed to be satisfied, regardless.
Then I saw a robed man walking along a transparent hall. He was coming toward the room where the woman was confined. The evil wizard!
I did not pause to think. “Cover your faces!” I yelled. “Hang on!” I propelled the carpet at the glass wall, bracing for the impact.
The glass shattered, shards flying everywhere, but we were not cut. I landed the carpet before the woman. “Come with us!” I told her.
“Aladdin!” she cried gladly.
“Yes, Rosebud!” I agreed as gladly. For her name was Buddir al-Buddoor, and I had called her by her pet name
But even as I spoke, so did Sinbad and Duban.
“Yes, Vania,” Sinbad was saying.
“Yes, Myrrh,” Duban said.
Not only did she look like each of our first loves, she sounded like them, and knew our names. This would take some sorting out.
“Aladdin, beloved,” Rosebud said urgently. “Do not touch me! It’s a trap! I am horribly enchanted. Fly away from here before the Wizard binds you with webs of sinister magic.”
But we were already crowding around her as the glass door opened and the Wizard entered. “Halt!” he shouted, raising his hands to cast a spell.
We put our arms around the woman protectively.
And suddenly we were elsewhere. We stood embracing her in a land with odd vegetation. I recognized it instantly. “Djinnland!”
“They enchanted me as a portal between the realms, just as the serpent was,” Rosebud said sadly. “Now you are truly trapped. I would have spared you this if I could. I am so very, very sorry, my love.”
She was hardly the only one.
Chapter Eighteen
“What is this place?” asked Sinbad, stunned.
Duban’s mouth also dropped open in amazement. We seemed to be in a clearing, surrounded by trees with purple trunks. Large, lumbering bees buzzed by us, their stingers long enough to poke one’s eye out.
I told them both of Djinnland, where humans were so dense that we tended to sink into the ground, where marvelous creatures such as flying dragons lived, and where magic was commonplace.
“But we are not sinking now,” said Duban.
“That’s because we are standing on bedrock. But don’t be fooled. The moment you step onto softer ground, you will sink as surely as a stone would in the ocean.”
“But how do we move if we’re trapped in the earth?” asked Sinbad with a note of panic in voice. I did not blame him. For a seafaring man, this would surely be his worst nightmare.
“Not trapped,” I said, and explained that since we were far heavier than the surrounding landscape we would be able to move easily through the earth itself, but only along the solid bedrock below.
“So we travel with the worms and other foul creatures?” asked Duban.
“It serves a purpose for concealment,” I said. “But there is another way.” I next told them of the technique Jewel and I had devised, wherein we held thoughts of lightness—images of mist or clouds or even of the air itself—to buoy our own bodies.
“And this technique worked?” asked Sinbad skeptically.
“More often than not.”
“Gentleman,” said my deceased wife, Rosebud. “Need I remind you that the three of you have fallen victim to a devious trap. I strongly suggest we get moving.”
“But where to, my love,” said Sinbad, immediately taking my deceased wife’s hand. Of course, he was seeing his once missing wife, as Duban was seeing his own first love.
An odd jealousy rose up within me, one that bypassed my logical mind and went straight for the heart. How dare Sinbad take my wife’s hand!
“Snap out of it, human,” whispered Faddy in my ear. “Remember, she is part of a devious plot to destroy you and take over your kingdom.”
“But I miss her so much.”
“Of course you do, simpleton. Tread carefully, lest you be stung.”
I looked away from the image of Sinbad holding my deceased wife’
s hand. “I think I liked you better when you called me master,” I said, grumbling.
Faddy laughed, and not pleasantly. “You have been warned.”
“Warning heeded,” I said, as a question occurred to me. “Can you tell me why Prince Zeyn didn’t transport us into his dungeon? Why here?”
“How do you know Prince Zeyn is behind this mischief?”
“Is it someone else?”
“Of course not, buffoon! Who else but Prince Zeyn could lure you here?”
“You’re wasting my time,” I growled under my breath.
“And time is something you most certainly do not have. To answer your question: Although the dark prince has the means to transport you here, he has no control where you will ultimately appear. Those bees you saw earlier? Those are his eyes and ears.”
“So he knows where we are?”
“Oh, yes, he and his men will be here shortly.”
“Don’t sound so pleased,” I grumbled.
“The only pleasure I receive is watching your simple mind work. Case in point, Prince Zeyn isn’t the only djinn around who could transport you here.”
“Lamprey!” I said, realizing my fatal error. “Oh, camel dung!”
“Ah, so you’re only now realizing that you left your precious djinn back on the ship with the other treasure. Treasure that even now is being sorted through by Prince Zeyn’s men.”
“I’m a horrible master!”
“Indeed, Aladdin. It appears your Lamprey will once again find himself imprisoned. That is, if he’s not saved in time. Help, after all, is on its way.”
“What do you mean? Will you help fetch Lamprey?”
“You are even more simple than I thought.”
Yes, I could see now my error: was Faddy too jealous of the powerful djinn to help him? “Out with it, Smoke Face.”
“Your wife is on the way.”
“Jewel?”
“She is your wife, is she not?”
“I do not understand.”
“Of course not, dog, so let me explain it to you clearly. The queen has been using me as a spy, and with great pleasure I have been reporting your roguery and dalliances.”
“No wonder why you were so willing to come around, despite having been freed. You were spying! Why, you two-faced—”
“Now, now, my lord. She is just a concerned wife. And lucky for you. She is, even now, arranging to rescue the lamp and, in turn, you.”
“Alone?”
“Of course not. She will be traveling with an intrepid thief who hails from Baghdad.”
“The Thief of Baghdad!”
“Yes, as he’s commonly called. Quite a handsome and dashing fellow from what I understand. He was recently arrested and presented to court. From what I gather, Jewel was quite smitten with him, as were all the women. Anyway, it appears that he’s agreed to help fetch your magic lamp in return for his freedom.”
I felt the heat rise to my face. How much of what Faddy said was true, I didn’t know, as the ifrit seemed inclined toward mischief of late. Still, I had to believe that Jewel was on her way to Cloudland in search of the magic lamp. And she was traveling with the notorious Thief of Baghdad.
“Begone,” I said irritably to Faddy, whose presence faded away with a chuckle. Perhaps I should never have freed him.
“You were speaking with your ifrit,” said Rosebud, moving over to me. Sinbad trailed close behind.
“Er, he’s not my ifrit. Not anymore.”
“Then why does he still report to you?”
“Never mind that,” I snapped, facing her, my anger rising. Whoever she was, she meant us harm. But my ire abated immediately upon looking into my wife’s beautiful, almond-shaped eyes. Eyes I had not seen in many, many years. I looked away. “We have to get moving.”
“Indeed,” said Sinbad, taking his wife’s hand protectively. “We need to escape this land. But how?”
How indeed? How should I tell Sinbad that he had most certainly not taken the hand of his wife, that she was no doubt Prince Zeyn’s prisoner here in Djinnland, if she was alive at all.
I didn’t know, but as I looked into the far distance, I saw a great cloud forming in the sky, a cloud that looked suspiciously like the face of Prince Zeyn.
And it—or he—was approaching quickly.
We had to run. But to where?
Chapter Nineteen
“Better think of something soon,” Sinbad said. Duban remained distracted by the mystery woman. Naturally it was up to me to rescue us all. Somehow it generally seemed to be that way.
And I had no idea. My mind was a blank wet blanket. That, too, was typical.
Aladdin.
It was Sylvie Siren, wrapped around my finger. “You can help?” I asked without real hope.
Restore me. I will sing my song and lead your nemesis away while you escape.
“And what will happen to you when the foul lord catches you?” I asked. “He will not be kind to you.”
That’s not the point. I want to help you, and this is the only way I know.
“Forget it,” I said. “I don’t want to send you into ugly slavery and doom.” If I had had time to examine my motives, I might have discovered that it was the lingering fascination of her song that made me loath to hurt her. Fortunately I lacked that time.
Meanwhile the cloud loomed closer. It was definitely Zeyn.
My eye fell on the mystery maiden. She had conjured us here, but obviously not by her choice. She had tried to warn us away, and expressed her regret. So she was not our enemy. But who was she?
Let me touch her, Sylvie thought. I will fathom her identity.
I put out my hand and grasped the maiden’s arm, the ring touching her flesh. She stiffened, aware of the touch.
Got it, Sylvie thought. She is Nydea Nymph, of the tribe of Nubile Nymphs. They are cousins of ours, only their point in existence is to make men happy without harming them, in contrast to our way. They are nicer than we are. Their inherent magic is to resemble any man’s most beloved image, to better serve his need. She was lured to Prince Zeyn’s castle on the promise of excellent prospects for marriage, as only by marriage to a mortal can a Nubile Nymph achieve mortality herself, her fondest wish. But it was a ruse; she was captured and then enchanted to spring the trap. She is horribly grieved. It is not her nature to harm any mortal man.
Nydea turned to me. “You have a captive siren!” she said.
“Not captive,” I said. “She associates with us by choice. She says you’re a victim too.”
Now the cloud was almost upon us. “Can you fight him off?” Sinbad asked Duban.
“In the mortal realm, yes,” the boy answered. “But here in his realm he is stronger than I am. It is me he really wants to capture and kill.”
“I am a victim too,” Nydea agreed sadly, on our separate dialog.
But her people live here in Djinnland,” Sylvie thought. “They have a refuge safe from the evil prince. That’s why he doesn’t like them, and abuses them when he can.”
A refuge! Suddenly my lagging brain functioned. “Take us to your leader!” I told Nydea.
“But there is no time,” she protested. “The monster is about to grab us all.”
“Not if we dive underground.”
“I can’t do that! I’m not mortal.”
“You’re a cousin species to the Sirens,” I said persuasively. “Can you change form?”
“No. Only my aspect, as men gaze at me. That’s appearance rather than reality.”
But I had an answer. “Duban!” I snapped. “Change this woman into a ring.”
He stared at me. “But—”
“Now!”
Bemused, he obeyed. In moments Nydea was another ring, on my finger adjacent to Sylvie, still looking like my beloved. I had to keep my eye off her, lest I be overcome by nostalgia. “Which way?” I asked.
That way, she thought, mentally indicating a direction. She, too, was bemused by the transformation.
“F
ollow me!” I cried, changing in that direction as the vile cloud descended on us.
We ran off the surface bedrock and into the softer ground. I could see that both Sinbad and Duban were amazed, but I didn’t have time to explain it further. Soon we were in over our heads, forging along the buried bedrock.
Above the ground the cloud raged, powerless to catch us. We had escaped, for the moment.
I hoped the way to Nubile Refuge would remain underground throughout. Because I knew the angry cloud was following us. Our density protected us from Zeyn at the moment, but the instant we surfaced he would be on us, and woe betide us then!
While I ran I pondered. If we were so firmly trapped in Djinnland, why was Prince Zeyn so eager to get hold of us? Why wasn’t he going after the Lamp, which was surely more of a threat to him? Then I remembered what Duban had said: he was the one Zeyn was really after. In the mortal realm Duban was, when aroused, stronger than Zeyn. But in Djinnland he wasn’t. But maybe he could become so, if given time. So he needed to be dispatched immediately. No good to secure the Lamp if the Boy was developing dangerous power here. That explained our predicament, and suggested that we might have a winning cast of the dice if we could just survive the moment.
And while we distracted Zeyn, Jewel was on her way to recover the Lamp. But there was a problem there: we had sailed at least a week’s distance from our port, the same one she would have to use. It would take her a week to get there. That was far too much time.
Perhaps not, Sylvie thought. She’s with the Thief of Baghdad. We know of that scoundrel. Last year he secretly plugged his ears, faked fascination, and stole an invaluable high-speed magic carpet from us. He surely has it now, and that will enable them to reach the ship within a day.
We know of him too, Nydea thought. He thieves hearts, too. He is to be trusted only as a betrayer.
And this wretch was traveling with my wife.
But first things first. We had to save our hides, or the Thief would be the least of our concerns.
“Your home. Refuge,” I said to Nydea. “It really is safe from the wrath of Prince Zeyn?”
Yes. But the moment we leave it, he can stalk us and sometimes capture us. So we have very little effective power.
The Series Boxed Set Page 25
