The Series Boxed Set

by Piers Anthony

  “Relax, my king,” said Nylon. “We will hear from Zeyn soon. He has no need to keep your friend and my daughter longer than need be.”

  “Which is what makes me nervous. What if he kills them?”

  “Zeyn has never been one to kill anyone too quickly. And besides, they are of more use to him alive than dead.”

  A young Nymph suddenly appeared in the doorway of the lodge. “My Queen, a messenger has arrived at the portal. He is alone and unarmed. He brings word from Prince Zeyn.”

  “Show him in.”

  Moments later, a young djinn manifested in the lodge. He smiled pleasantly and bowed deeply to both the queen and to myself. “My King and Queen, Prince Zeyn sends his deepest regrets to the senseless attack on your daughter, Nydea, and on your friend, Sinbad. The rogue worm has, of course, been captured and slaughtered and Nydea and Sinbad have been mercifully saved. For now, they are residing comfortably in Prince Zeyn’s castle—”

  “Out with it, demon,” snapped Queen Nylon. “We do not have all day.”

  Immediately, the pleasant-looking djinn turned into something rather nasty. Now, a misshapen creature with an elongated head and glowing red eyes stood before us.

  “Yesss,” hissed the foul creature. “They are in the prince’s castle where they are no doubt being tortured at thisss very moment.”

  “And what does the Prince want in exchange for their lives?”

  “It isss easy enough, my queen. He simply requiresss an exchange.”

  “What kind of exchange?”

  “The king and the boy, and you will have your fair daughter again, and the worthless sssailor. They appear to be in love, after all.” And the demon actually spat the word love.

  Nylon and I had already gone over this moment, and she put on a wonderful show of being infuriated with the demands of Prince Zeyn. The demon only watched her with eager, round eyes, dripping its foul poison. Finally, in accordance with our rehearsed plan, I reached out a hand and took her arm.

  “Duban and I will do it,” I said.

  “No, my king. I cannot allow—”

  “We will do it.” And here I looked at the demon. “For true love.”

  The demon actually seemed to fight an urge to vomit. When the creature got control of itself, it finally said, “Good, good. The Prince will be very pleasssed.”

  “On one condition,” I said.

  The demon turned its full—and frightening—gaze on to me. I did my best not to look too deeply into its red eyes. “And what isss that, King Aladdin?”

  “That he releases Sinbad and Nydea first.”

  “Oh, I don’t think my massster will be pleased with that at all.”

  “It is my only condition. He can accept it or shove it up his fat ass.”

  The demon sized me up, its deformed head swiveling slightly on its long neck. “And what guarantee doesss the Prince have that King Aladdin will follow through on hisss end of the deal?”

  “Because,” I said, and this time I did look the vile creature full in the face, “King Aladdin never reneges on his word.”

  The demon continued staring at me, and I could not help but notice that the red in his eyes could have been actual fire, burning just behind its pupils.

  Finally the demon began to nod. “Thisss is acceptable to the prince.”

  The demon obviously had been authorized to accept such a deal, as I doubted the creature could be in contact with the Prince in the Nymph’s safe haven.

  “Good,” I said. “When my friends are here, safe and sound, my son and I will present ourselves outside the castle walls.”

  “Thisss, too, is acceptable.”

  Nymph Jewel stood suddenly. “Then begone, foul creature.”

  It bowed and disappeared into a puff of black smoke. I had barely returned to Nymph Jewel’s side, when the same young Nymph appeared again in the doorway.

  “My Queen, Sinbad the Sailor and Nydea are at the portal.”

  * * *

  We were all gathered around the central fire of the lodge. Sinbad hated our plan, but I reminded him that I had given the Prince my word.

  “Your word, be damned, King Aladdin. The man is a devil. He was all set to torture us. In fact, I had already been stretched over a heavily scarred table stained with blood. Next to me was all manner of torture devices, all stained with fresh blood.” Sinbad stepped in front of me, his wild eyes aflame. “This camel turd does not deserve respect or any man’s word.”

  “We have a plan,” said Queen Nylon.

  “With all due respect, your plan is foolish, my queen. Perhaps the most foolish I have ever heard.”

  The Queen cocked an eyebrow. “Oh? More foolish than venturing deep into the Siren’s enchanted cavern?”

  “Well, that was a different—”

  I clapped a hand on Sinbad’s shoulder. “My friend,” I said, “if I have learned anything from my time as king it is that sometimes there is a time to fight. And now is such a time. Prince Zeyn is determined to not only destroy me, but my son. If he succeeds he will usher in, from all appearance, a reign of terror the likes of which our world has never seen before.”

  “And so your great plan to stop him is to simply give yourselves up?”

  “I never said it was great. But it is a plan.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “No—”

  “You will need a second sword, Aladdin. I have seen the inside of his palace and it is frightening to behold. The very walls themselves are embedded with an army of stone demons.”

  Duban spoke up. “I can just as easily turn him into a ring, Father.”

  “I’m running out of fingers,” I grumbled. But I appeared to be outnumbered. Nylon had no opinion in the matter, apparently, and who was I to keep my adventurous friend from helping me? “Fine. Then let’s get on with it.”

  “My Queen,” said the same young Nymph. “The demon awaits at the portal to transport King Aladdin and Prince Duban.”

  Nymph Jewel nodded. “Indeed. Let’s get on with it. Duban, work your magic.”

  My stepson did just that, quickly turning Nymph Jewel, Nymph Myrrh and Sindbad the Sailor into golden rings, all of which I placed on various fingers. I remembered how when I had become a ring, it was mere brass. Not that I was jealous, exactly, merely off put.

  I turned to the young Nymph. “Now, take us to the demon.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  All too soon we were at the portal, then in the underground passage, rejoining the demon, who grinned horrendously and ushered us into his carriage. What was odd was that it appeared to be a very nice carriage, with plush upholstery, tasteful curtains to shield us from dust, and soft cushions on the bench. We were quite comfortable.

  The demon then became a four legged beast that stepped into a harness and hauled the carriage forward. Right out of the passage and into the ground, for all of it was of mortal density, making the ground seem like fog. Zeyn had had time to prepare for our density. We cruised on along the bedrock and upward toward the surface.

  By mutual consent we did not discuss our strategy, but kept our words innocuous. We were able to converse freely in the carriage. “Prince Zeyn is being a remarkably gracious host,” I remarked.

  “I’m sure he can be that, when he chooses,” Duban said, grimacing. He shrugged. “Possibly we have misjudged the Prince.”

  I forced a straight face. “Possibly, though my prior encounter with him might be construed as a bit negative.”

  “Maybe he happened to be in a bad mood that day,” Duban said, quirking a smile. After all, he had had his own negative experience with Zeyn, who had sought to sacrifice him on an altar.

  We drew up to the surface. Then the carriage sprouted wings and flew off the ground and into the sky. That was impressive, considering our phenomenal density.

  The high turrets of the dread castle came into view. The thing was amazingly aesthetic, resembling a storybook residence. I was surprised.

  “Illusion,”
Duban murmured.

  Oh. Of course. Very little here in Djinnland needed to be as it appeared.

  I thought of something else. “We are mortally dense. How can any of us go above the bedrock level of the castle?”

  “Prince Zeyn surely thought of that detail,” Duban said. “The castle must be enchanted to handle mortal density. Sinbad did not have any trouble.”

  That was true. Outside the castle our density counted, but inside it we might very well seem normal. Just as we did here in the carriage.

  We landed in a central courtyard. Two pretty maidens were there to welcome us, each more comely than the other. They were tastefully clothed in light robes and sashes that did nothing to conceal their shapeliness. “Welcome, honored guests!” the loveliest one exclaimed, stepping forward to give me a kiss, while the other bussed Duban. I managed not to stiffen in alarm. “I am Desiree, and my companion is Demona, both of us dedicated to serve you.” She smiled and made a little flirt of her hips and long loose dark hair. “In any manner you may desire, pun intended.”

  I got it: Desiree, desire.

  What theater, Nylon thought, disgusted.

  She’s really a warty pig? I inquired.

  No, her physical appearance is accurate, and I’m sure she is more than ready to oblige your manly passion, having densified so that she can. But she’s a demoness who would consume you if allowed.

  I saw nothing like this before, Sinbad grumped, now having access to my thoughts, as well.

  Just so. Since it was not incidental demonesses we were after, I had to play along. Only when Zeyn showed up to make his move would we make our break. We needed to have him chasing us, so that we could lead him into the trap.

  “This way, please, King Aladdin,” Desiree said, taking my hand while Demona took Duban’s hand. They conducted us to an elaborate suite replete with fountains and works of art. Stone statues lined the walls. Demonic statues, all armed with stone swords. Zeyn’s army. There was a great golden throne that sat empty nearby. I had a strong feeling this was where Zeyn was entertained. Were we to be his entertainment? I shivered.

  Demona spoke next, “You must be tired and worn after your journey, not to mention suffering the nefarious attentions of the Nasty Nymphs. We will be happy to help you bathe and change.”

  What was going on here? We had been braced for attack and torture. Zeyn had no need to coddle us. “We can handle such details ourselves,” I said gruffly.

  “Of course, King Aladdin,” she agreed immediately. “Make yourselves comfortable. We will bring you your repast.”

  Did they plan to drug us with bhang in the food? Again, why should Zeyn bother? We were already in his power. This simply was not making much sense.

  I am baffled too, Nylon thought.

  They brought a veritable banquet, which they served us piece by piece. Nylon and Sylvie, who evidently knew something about poison, assured me that the food was safe and of excellent quality. This was strange, as djinn and demons did not really need to eat. Zeyn maintained a kitchen to serve mortals?

  “Prince Zeyn has provided also for your entertainment,” Desiree said. Before I could protest that Duban did not need a woman, and I would not indulge in his presence regardless, she gestured. The wall facing us changed color, becoming what seemed to be a window. We saw through it to a harbor with a ship. “A window to the mortal realm.”

  In fact it was the harbor at Cloudland Island, and the Fat Chance. And there aboard it were three people: a handsome man, a lovely woman, and a pretty girl.

  “Mother!” Duban breathed. “Myrrh!”

  “And surely the Thief of Baghdad,” I concluded somewhat sourly. “So they made it to the ship. But did they get the Lamp?”

  “Mother is carrying it,” Duban said.

  So she was, in a little handbag. So they had arrived in time, while Zeyn was distracted with us. “But I think they need to get away from there,” I muttered. “Soon.”

  “Also, she got new shoes,” Duban said distastefully. “The Thief must have gotten them for her.”

  “They are pretty slippers,” I agreed. Trust my wife to keep her eye out for shoes, even amidst serious business. She also had fancy gloves. I shook my head with fond bemusement.

  But before they could board the Thief’s carpet, three men arrived. “Aladdin!” Jewel exclaimed. “You got free!” She ran to gladly embrace him.

  But of course it was not Aladdin. I was right here in Zeyn’s castle, watching this travesty. The others looked like Sinbad and Duban, and I was pretty sure they weren’t authentic either.

  “We did,” the impostor agreed. “It is quite a story, which we will tell at another time. Prince Zeyn is hot on our trail, breathing fire. Your carpet won’t hold six people. We need Ifrit Iften. Give me the Lamp.”

  “Don’t do it!” I protested, but of course she couldn’t hear me. The magic window enabled us to hear them, but not vice versa. I was coming to appreciate the nature of Zeyn’s torture of us: to see disaster happening and be powerless to prevent it.

  “Of course, dear,” Jewel said. She brought the lamp out and proffered it. Ouch!

  Zeyn—for it had to be he—snatched it from her hand. He held it up and rubbed its side. “Come forth, O Iften!” he intoned. “Now you are mine, ifrit, and must serve me!”

  Purple smoke issued from the Lamp. Also, evidently, a vile odor. Zeyn and his companions coughed and squinched their tearing eyes shut.

  If I didn’t know better, Nylon thought, I’d figure that to be a stink bomb.

  It is a stink bomb! Sylvie Siren thought. The Thief stole several from our treasure. It emits a truly putrid stench admixed with mustard gas, a substance from the foul future.

  “Then she saw him coming!” I said, gratified as well as amused. “But then why did she hug him?”

  She planted something on him, Sylvie thought. It looked like another stolen artifact, a homing signal.

  “So she will know him wherever he goes, whatever form he assumes,” I said. “That’s my girl.”

  Duban looked at me. “There is something?”

  Quickly I explained the dialogue with the rings. He smiled. “That’s mother,” he agreed. “Myrrh would have anticipated this ploy when she read the future, and then read his mind, so they were never fooled.”

  “But they’re still in deadly danger,” I said. “They need to get out of there now.”

  Indeed, they were doing so. While Zeyn and his henchmen coughed, choked, and rubbed their stinging eyes, Jewel, Myrrh, and the Thief were retreating to their magic carpet. They got on it and took off.

  But then Zeyn’s two minions transformed to winged monsters and flew to intercept the trio. Their eyes no longer flowed; in this form they were immune. In fact they were probably made from stink bomb ingredients. Meanwhile Zeyn also shed his mortal mask and stood revealed as himself, no longer coughing. “Fetch them back here,” he ordered.

  The two monsters took hold of the carpet, and it was helpless against their strength. They dragged it back down before Zeyn. The ploy had failed.

  “You will pay for this little trick, wench,” Zeyn said grimly. “But I will spare you if you give me the real Lamp. Where is it?”

  “I’ll never tell,” Jewel said.

  “You will tell,” he told her. “Because I have your husband hostage in my castle, and I will torture him in your presence until his screams make you yield. You can save him some pain by producing the Lamp now.”

  “Never!” she said bravely. “And you’ll never find it!”

  A crocodile would have admired his smile. “I hoped you would say that, strumpet. Now I have an excellent pretext to torture him and the boy, and of course part of it will be them seeming me rape you and the girl child, before I turn you over to my lustful minions. I will of course still recover the Lamp after our frolics. This will surely be a wonderful occasion.”

  “You monster!” she said fervently, and Myrrh looked horrified.

  “Indeed,” he agreed equab
ly.

  I shook my head. They had after all walked into the trap. Now Prince Zeyn had us all, and he would be merciless.

  Yet if Myrrh could read minds and see the future, how could this have happened?

  “They’re up to something,” Duban murmured.

  They certainly are, Nylon thought.

  They’re women, Sylvie agreed. The girl faked horror very nicely.

  They mean to rescue their beloveds, Nydea Nymph thought. The Lamp was just a pretext.

  I hoped they were right, because I couldn’t see any chance. I worried they had underestimated Zeyn’s power in his home castle. I feared we were all doomed.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  I watched in horror as Zeyn’s minions surrounded Jewel, Myrrh and the Thief. Zeyn then turned and looked directly at us. A shiver ran through me. Even Duban gasped. Zeyn’s dark eyes flared briefly with amusement, then turned sinister as his eyebrows drew together. He raised his hands and snapped his fingers, and the wall before us went blank, replaced now by bricks and tapestries.

  Duban took my hand. “They’re here, Father.”

  “Who?” I said.

  “Myrrh and mother. The thief, too.” Duban closed his eyes. “Myrrh’s reaching out to me...they’re in a dungeon, deep below the castle.”

  That’s where he had me strapped to the torture table, came Sinbad’s thoughts.

  Sinbad’s words had just appeared in my thoughts when a brilliant flash of light appeared in the great hall. The air in the room seemed to drop many degrees. When my seared eyes could focus again, I was not too surprised to see the hulking figure of Prince Zeyn slouching on the golden throne.

  Coldness radiated from the prince. Indeed, as he breathed, small puffs of condensation billowed around him. What manner of foul creature was he?

  The foulest, thought Nylon, squeezing my finger. In Djinnland, cold of heart also translates into cold of flesh. He is the prodigy of two powerful magicians. His father was a great mortal wizard and his mother the most powerful of djinn sorceresses. Zeyn, of course, destroyed them both as soon as he grew powerful enough. Now, he forever longs to rule both worlds.