Rebels of the Lamp, Book 1

by Peter Speakman

  “So,” he said. “Have you ever heard of a Porsche 911?”

  16

  PARKER SKIDDED THE RED PORSCHE to a halt. Theo was thrown once more across the tiny backseat and into the window.

  “Ouch,” said Theo.

  Fon-Rahm sat stoically in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead. His new suit fit him perfectly, unwrinkled even after Parker’s insanity behind the wheel.

  “You can relax now, guys,” Parker said. “We’re home.”

  Well, not exactly home. They were in some bushes in the middle of a field almost a mile behind the Merritts’ house. Reese was already gone, dropped off near enough to her house so that she could get home on foot, but far enough so that no one she knew would see her get out of a hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar sports car being driven by a seventh grader.

  She wasn’t happy about it. It was going to be a long walk.

  Parker and Fon-Rahm climbed out of the car, and Theo clawed his way out of the back. Theo was thrilled to be stationary. Until very, very recently, Theo never got carsick. Now he could barely look at the Porsche without getting dizzy. One more thing to thank his cousin for.

  “Look at that!” Parker pointed at the 911. “Not a scratch on it!”

  That wasn’t even remotely true. The car was a mess. It was dirty and scratched, and one headlight had exploded when they landed their big jump over the cop prowlers. The jump had also seriously damaged the suspension, so the Porsche sat a little lower than it was supposed to. These little modifications made the car look like it was exhausted. If it were human, it might have sighed.

  It didn’t really matter. The Porsche was already disappearing, fading out of their existence and back to the Nexus. They could already see through the bumpers. In a few hours the whole car would be gone, leaving nothing behind besides tire tracks, confused policemen, and the smell of burned rubber.

  “It’s a shame we can’t keep it,” Parker said.

  “No, it’s not,” said Theo. “You drive like a lunatic.”

  “I drive like a NASCAR driver.” Parker turned to Fon-Rahm. “How long is that going to last, anyway? My new abilities, I mean.”

  “Days. Perhaps a week,” said Fon-Rahm.

  “When it fades away, I suppose there’s nothing to stop me from wishing for it again.”

  Fon-Rahm gritted his teeth. “I suppose not.”

  “And I can always get another car. A Lambo next time, I think. Or that Mercedes with the gull-wing doors. Of course, there’s no backseat in either of those things....”

  “Good,” said Theo.

  Parker grinned. He had woken up with, let’s face it, not a whole lot going for him. Now, here it was, less than ten hours later, and everything had changed. Everything he ever wanted was his for the asking or, more accurately, the wishing. From now on, things were going to go his way. He was exhilarated.

  He was also wiped out.

  “Let’s go home,” he said.

  “Yeah, about that.” Theo gestured to Fon-Rahm. “What are we supposed to do with him?”

  “Way ahead of you, buddy. I got it all figured out.”

  Moments later, Parker, Theo, and Fon-Rahm were standing in the Merritts’ old barn. At one time it had housed an imposing wooden cider press, and the sweet smell of apples still hung in the air. Now the barn was a catchall toolshed for Theo’s dad. It was filled with long-handled rakes and pitchforks. There was a stocked workbench holding just about any kind of a tool you could possibly need, along with a half-finished remote-control plane that Theo’s dad had tried and failed to get his son interested in. There was also a forty-year-old tractor that ran most of the time and a box of Christmas decorations that hadn’t been touched in a decade.

  Parker showed Fon-Rahm to an empty space in the corner.

  “I guess you can sleep over here.”

  The genie stared through him. “I need no sleep,” he said.

  “Okay,” said Parker. “Well, if you get hungry, I could leave you some...”

  “I need no food.”

  “Water? Oxygen?”

  “I am not alive in the way that you are alive. I am a creature of magic. You are merely flesh and bone.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m the boss of you.”

  “I’m going in,” said Theo, looking warily at Fon-Rahm. “Are you sure he’s going to be all right out here?”

  “He’ll be fine,” said Parker. “He’s a creature of magic.”

  Theo closed the barn door on his way out.

  Parker yawned. “Okay, Fon-Rahm, get some rest. I have a lot planned for you and me.”

  “You try my patience, child. I am Fon-Rahm of the Jinn, not a toy.”

  “Whatever you say, Rommy old pal.”

  Parker put his hand on the barn door, but he stopped himself from opening it. He paused for a moment before turning back to the genie.

  “What was it like? When you were in the lamp?” he asked.

  Fon-Rahm contemplated this.

  “It was like a dream,” he said. “I could feel the centuries as they passed, but time itself was meaningless to me. It was, perhaps, like it was for you, before you were born.”

  The genie looked deep in thought.

  “Now I find myself far from home, and in a world I do not fully understand. It is...” He searched for the word. “Difficult.”

  Parker knew the feeling. He was far from home himself, and often felt like he would never truly fit in.

  He shook it off. He had an image to maintain.

  “See you in the morning,” he said. “Try not to destroy the world.”

  “You don’t have much faith in me.”

  “That’s true, but I wouldn’t take it personally. I don’t have much faith in anybody.”

  “Relying on others is not a sign of weakness. It is a sign of strength.”

  Parker shrugged.

  “Huh. Well, great. I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

  Fon-Rahm stood in his corner, his arms folded against his chest, as Parker walked outside and closed the barn door.

  As he made his way to the house, Parker was struck with a sudden dull ache behind his eyes. He stopped and closed his eyes tight. The pain didn’t go away. A headache, thought Parker; uncomfortable but nothing to worry about. If it got any worse he could always have Fon-Rahm conjure up some Advil.

  He walked into the house through the kitchen door. Something was bubbling on the stove, and the whole house smelled like mashed potatoes. Parker pulled the lid off a pot to see what was inside, and he saw his aunt Martha sitting alone at the set table in the next room. She was Parker’s mother’s younger sister, but Parker thought she looked older. Her back was to him and she was talking on an old cordless phone.

  “Why not?” she said. “When?”

  She pulled absently at one of her apron strings.

  “Well, get somebody else to do the double shift! He’s expecting you to be here. I mean, it’s Thanksgiving....”

  She turned her head to see Parker in the doorway.

  “Oh! Parker!” She was suddenly all smiles. “Your mother’s on the phone. Would you like to talk to her?”

  Parker turned on his heels and walked away. He wasn’t interested in hearing any more of his mother’s excuses.

  “Parker?”

  Parker walked up the stairs to wait for dinner. His head was killing him.

  17

  THE ICE STRETCHED FOR MILES in every direction, and a freezing wind cut through the barren plain. There were no trees or mountains or houses. The night held nothing but snow and the promise of a cold, cold death. It was forty degrees below zero.

  The ice crunched under Nadir’s boots as he stepped onto the tundra. He had been in the country for less than an hour. It had taken four flights to get to Greenland and, as he had slit the throats of the two Path members who were with him in New Hampshire, he had made the trip alone. The men proved worthless in the fight with Fon-Rahm. Worse, if they had survived they would have told their brothers in th
e Path about the fiasco, and Nadir could not let that happen. It would undermine his authority. It would show weakness.

  He was angry with himself for losing Fon-Rahm. If he could have taken possession of the lamp, unopened, things would have gone much easier. Now the first of the Jinn was free and would have to be dealt with accordingly.

  Nadir was not worried. Fon-Rahm was bound to a child. It would be no great challenge to defeat him.

  Especially since the discovery here.

  In the near distance, six men stood in a circle. They were bundled up in boots and thick gloves and coats with fur hoods. They carried picks and shovels, and one had a chain saw. As Nadir approached them, he could see their breath in the air and he could hear their teeth chatter.

  The men stepped aside so Nadir could see what they had found.

  It was a block of ice the size of a refrigerator, cut from the ground nearby. Inside, Nadir could make out some dark object.

  Nadir pulled the guiding tablet from a bag on his shoulder. The metal plates on its face slowly worked themselves into a new pattern. The arrow pointed directly at the frozen object. Nadir put the tablet away and nodded. He stepped back as one of the men started the chain saw and cut into the block of ice.

  When the lamp was free, two of the men placed it on a low stone altar set up on the ice. Nadir ran his hands over the metal cylinder. At last, his destiny was to be fulfilled.

  Nadir raised his hand slowly and pointed to one of the men. The man nodded solemnly and stepped forward. He stripped off his winter clothes and donned a purple robe covered in ancient runes. Shivering, he knelt before the altar. He offered up a silent prayer and placed his trembling hands on the lamp. He twisted the ends first one way, and then another, until there was an audible pop and the hiss of escaping gas.

  The man’s face flooded with fear. The lamp opened with a roar and a storm of orange flame. Instantly, the sky was ablaze. The men turned away, their eyes burning. Some fell as the ground melted beneath their feet. Only Nadir kept his gaze fixed on the hurricane of fire in their midst.

  The fire died down. Again the air was calm. When the smoke lifted, the genie Xaru hovered above the altar. His features were sharper than Fon-Rahm’s, and where Fon-Rahm’s robes were black, Xaru wore a brilliant crimson. He was like a more feral version of his older brother. At the sight of him, the men of the Path threw themselves to the ground in worship.

  The man kneeling at the altar looked to the reborn genie, terrified. Xaru peered down at him, suppressing a sneer.

  “You have freed me from my prison,” he said. “You have my eternal gratitude.”

  The man simply whimpered.

  Xaru looked to Nadir, power recognizing power.

  “Of course, I am now bound by magic to do this man’s bidding, and I am prevented from causing him any harm. While he lives, I am nothing but a slave.”

  Nadir nodded to one of his confederates, and the Path member presented him with a wooden box, lacquered black, its corners blunt from centuries of use, an image of a grinning skull carved into its lid. Nadir set the box on the ground, removed the rusting metal pin that held the lid closed, and reached inside.

  He pulled out a small glass vial stopped with an age-old cork. The liquid inside was thick and oozy and as dark as tar.

  As Xaru looked on, curious, Nadir removed the cork and let a single black droplet fall to the ice.

  After a moment, the drop began to move.

  The trembling man at the altar bowed his head. His whispered prayers grew louder as the black droplet creeped toward him. By the time it disappeared under his robe, his eyes were wide with terror. Soon, his legs were coated with the vile stuff. He swatted at himself, half mad with panic, as it engulfed his chest and arms, and his last scream was smothered when the black tar covered his face and his head.

  Then, somehow, the goo began to contract. The kneeling man, now a writhing shadow, grew smaller and smaller. Finally, he was still, and all that was left was a single droplet staining the ice black.

  Nadir put the opening of the vial on the ground, and with his finger drew an ancient symbol in the ice. At his command, the droplet rolled back into the glass tube. He replaced the cork and put the vial back into its box.

  Xaru smiled, now truly free.

  “That’s so much better,” he said to Nadir. “I can hardly wait to get started.”

  18

  WHEN HE OPENED THE BARN door the next morning, Parker found Fon-Rahm standing in his corner, arms folded against his chest, exactly as Parker left him. The genie had literally not moved a muscle.

  “Good morning, sunshine. I would ask you how you slept, but you don’t sleep. I didn’t have a great night, myself. My head was killing me. I feel better now, though, thanks for asking.”

  Fon-Rahm stared straight ahead.

  “Okay, then,” said Parker. “Here’s what’s going to happen today. Theo and I promised my aunt Martha that we would run to the store with her to pick up some perennials, whatever they are, and after that, you and I are going to get up to some serious wish-granting. I have been toying with the idea of a helicopter.”

  Fon-Rahm seemed distracted. He didn’t even appear to be listening.

  “You with me, buddy?”

  Fon-Rahm said, “Something has happened.”

  “Wow. Here’s a command for you: be less cryptic. What has happened?”

  “I do not know. Something has changed. The balance in the Nexus has shifted.”

  “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s a Nexus?”

  “It is the force of magic that surrounds Earth. I sense dark waves on the horizon.”

  “Oh. Well, in that case...” said Parker. “No, I still don’t care. I’ll see you in about a half an hour.”

  Parker left the barn. His headache returned the second he shut the door behind him.

  “Come on, Parker,” said Theo. He was waiting with his mother in the driveway in front of a ratty Subaru station wagon.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

  With each step Parker took toward them, however, his headache got worse. By the time he reached the car, he was pressing his palms into his eye sockets to try to relieve the pressure.

  “Parker?” asked his aunt Martha. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, I just...I’ll be okay. My head hurts.”

  “It’s probably allergies. People who aren’t used to the country get them.”

  Theo got in the car. Parker opened the door to the backseat and grimaced when he climbed in. His aunt looked him over.

  “Maybe you should go inside and lie down for a while.”

  “But...”

  “Go, Parker. Theo? Why don’t you stay with your cousin? There’s some allergy medicine in the bathroom.”

  Theo grumbled and got out of the car with Parker. As soon as Aunt Martha drove off, Parker collapsed onto the driveway.

  “Jeez, Parker, are you okay?”

  “The barn,” Parker said.

  Theo helped Parker to his feet. As they neared the barn, Parker’s headache vanished. They swung open the barn door to find Fon-Rahm rising from the ground, recovering from a headache of his own.

  The genie looked at Parker.

  “You, as well?” he asked.

  A half an hour later, Parker, Theo, Reese, and Fon-Rahm were standing under the uprights in the visitors end zone of the Robert Frost Junior High School football field. It was set behind the school, hemmed in on one side by hills. It was also deserted on a Sunday morning, which made it perfect for an experiment like this one.

  “I don’t know, guys,” Reese said, scrolling through a Web site on her phone. “I can’t find anything anywhere about genies and their masters being attached by the head.”

  Parker and Theo stared blankly at her. Boys, thought Reese. Really.

  “You two didn’t even consider Wikipedia?”

  “I do not know what knowledge this Wikipedia contains, but the spell that binds me to Parker has clearly also created some kind of
a tether between us.” Fon-Rahm turned to Parker. “My suggestion is that you walk down this shorn meadow....”

  “It’s a football field,” said Theo.

  “This football field, then, until the pain forces you to stop. That way at least we will know how far apart we are permitted to go.”

  “That’s not a bad idea, Rommy,” Parker said. “But, of course, losers walk.”

  Parker pointed to the other end zone. Fon-Rahm rose off the turf and began to float slowly down the field. Reese counted off the yards as he went.

  “Ten. Twenty.”

  “My head already hurts,” said Parker.

  “Thirty. Maybe he should slow down a little.”

  Parker rubbed his temples.

  “Wow. Yeah, it’s getting much worse.”

  “Should we stop?” asked Theo.

  Parker said, “Uh-uh. We have to know.”

  The pain was obviously getting very bad for Parker. He clenched his eyes shut and began to sweat.

  “Forty. Fifty.”

  “Okay. That’s enough,” Theo said.

  “Sixty.”

  Reese was starting to sound as nervous as Theo.

  Parker fell to his knees. In the distance, Fon-Rahm tripped out of the sky and landed on the grass. The genie struggled to his feet and continued on foot, slowly and in great pain.

  “Seventy.”

  “That’s it,” said Theo. “Call him back!”

  Parker gritted his teeth.

  “Just a little bit farther...”

  “Seventy-five.”

  Reese sounded more than a little panicked. Fon-Rahm began to weave. He was continuing on willpower alone.

  Parker dropped to all fours. Theo ran to his cousin. By the time he got to him, blood was running from Parker’s nose and ears.

  “Fon-Rahm!” Theo screamed. “Come back!”

  He yelled to Reese.

  “Make him come back!”

  The genie was no longer moving. He was collapsed eighty yards down the field.

  “Reese! Help me with him!”

  Reese ran over. She and Theo each grabbed one of Parker’s arms. They dragged him as quickly as they could down the field toward Fon-Rahm. As they got closer to the genie, the pain in Parker’s head began to go away. They reached Fon-Rahm and they all fell in a heap, spent.