by Judi Fennell
Dirham ducked behind Kal. “Aren’t you going to stop them?” he asked as a row of reeds got trampled, a sacrilege to those who knew the island’s history.
Kal shook his head. Not only couldn’t he do anything to anyone without the express wish of his master, but he wanted the chaos because, with all of this going on, somehow he was going to get the amulet. At least, that was the plan.
Gods, did he love vanity and self-centeredness. Particularly in one person. Albert was going to ego himself out of an amulet, and hopefully, out of a genie.
O’Malley said something about Finnegan’s mother, which made not only Finnegan go ballistic but the rest of his clan, too. Pots of gold went sailing through the glen, the resounding thunk on the cracked skulls adding to the din. Which meant Kal couldn’t hear his new master’s wishes.
He flew a herd of centaurs in next, with Wayne at the head. Wayne took one look at Kal, another at Albert, then at the melee, and got the picture immediately.
Two gnomes went flying into the pileup. That Wayne was a smart one; Kal could always count on him.
Harv trotted over to him. “How long are you going to let this go on?”
“Who says it has to stop?”
“True.” Harv’s antlers split one of the reeds, and he stuck an end in his mouth. “You want to bet on the outcome?”
Kal shook his head. For all the fun Harv was having, Kal was intensely invested in the continuation of the fight.
He brought in Lexy, Stavros, and the trolls next. Orkney and his crew refrained from stomping the ground—probably a good idea, given that the island floated—but they weren’t averse to tripping anyone, centaurs being the most likely targets.
Albert was yelling something in the background.
“Uh, Kal?” Harv’s antler flicked toward the dais behind them. “I think your master wants something.”
“You do? That’s nice.” No way was he turning around.
“Ah.” Harv stuck the reed back between his teeth. “It’s like that, is it?”
“No clue what you’re talking about.”
“’Course not.” He crossed his antlers. “You know, you might want to bring in the gremlins. They’d love to get in on this action.”
“Hey, good idea. Thanks.” Kal waved his hand and it started raining gremlins. The little furballs bounced when they hit the ground.
“No problemo,” said Harv.
With gremlins added to the mix, the melee devolved into utter pandemonium. Dirham managed to trip up Bart, who was dropkicking gremlins into the fight whenever they got tossed out, Wayne and his cronies were playing their favorite whack-a-gnome pastime again, and the leprechauns were twirling their shillelaghs in the trolls’ dreads and yanking. Nothing like a troll hitting the ground, writhing with the pain of an uprooted hunk of hair.
“What about the goblins?” asked Harv. “They’re always up for a good battle.”
“How right you are.” Kal waved his other hand and goblins crawled out of the reeds like ants at a picnic, which set the gnomes off because they considered themselves the masters of those domains. The dwarves Kal brought in next took issue with both the gnomes and the goblins, and, pretty soon, chunks of earth were being lobbed all over the place.
“Bit of a sacrilege,” said Harv, wiping a clod of dirt off a hoof.
Kal shrugged. “He wished for this.”
Harv nodded. “How far are you going to let this go?”
They watched a rock sail over the top of the fight and land at the base of the dais. If the dwarves had hit the rock layer, that meant they’d brought their pickaxes. This could go downhill fast. Just what Kal had in mind.
And then he saw something that turned his blood to ice. Sneaking through the outer ring of reeds, showing a flash of color every so often where there was a break in the plants, was a figure in teal-colored fabric. With copper hair.
Sam.
Kal shot a look at Albert before taking a breath. Not one of relief because even though Albert’s horrified gaze was riveted to the now boulder-sized rocks being lobbed his way, it would only take one wrong look to see Samantha circling around behind the dais.
And there wasn’t a damn thing Kal could do about it.
So he did the only thing he could: he kept granting Albert’s wish. He flew in the phoenixes for some blinding flashes to give Sam a better chance of not being seen, and the peris to add their good-natured confusion to the scene, flitting around with the trailing ribbons that they’d drop on anything they deemed in need of sprucing up. Given all the divots in the ground, they’d run out of ribbons before the leprechauns would run out of ornery.
“Uh, Kal?” Dirham peeked out from behind his right leg, Lexy from behind the left. “Don’t you think you want to ease up a little? The island can only hold so much.”
An extremely important point.
Right now Albert was safe on his dais. What if everyone else wanted to be safe, too? It’d get awfully crowded up there. Anything could happen.
Perfect.
Kal whisked in more ogres, every griffin in Izaaz, and the two reclusive hippogriffs as well. They weighed as much as six ogres.
Gaelic curses spewed above a barrage of Farsi. Akkadian fought with grunts, and Phoenician diatribes cut off Greek expletives, all of it drowning out the screech in English from behind him.
Kal wanted to turn around to see where Sam was, but then he’d have to listen to Albert. As long as he couldn’t hear the man’s specifics, he wasn’t honor-bound to grant them.
Ah, semantics. How he loved them.
“Uh, Kal?” Dirham stood on his hind legs with his paws on Kal’s knee. “I think I just felt the ground move.”
“That’s what she said,” said Harv.
Kal couldn’t help but laugh, both at the inappropriate comment from Harv that went right over Dir’s head and at the fact that the island had moved.
He waved his hand and brought in a herd of karkadanns. Ever elusive and self-governing, the rhinoceros-like beings kept their distance for a reason: they didn’t like anyone—including each other—and every encounter usually erupted in knockout, drag-down fights.
Tonight was no different: two dozen of them charged at once, and the thundering hooves and scattering crowd did what Kal wanted: the island started sinking.
It took about twenty seconds for everyone to realize what was happening, another ten to get over the shock, and by the time they started looking for the highest ground around, the water was sloshing over the gnomes’ knees.
And in one beautiful, almost choreographed movement, they all headed toward the dais.
***
It was over almost too easily. Hundreds of beings converging on a tiny piece of marble where one man sat in supercilious self-importance was the perfect storm.
Kal allowed himself to get swept along with them and kept his eyes firmly downcast. Oh, he was still honor-bound to protect Albert, but the beauty of The Code was that the master’s protection was at the sole discretion of the attendant genie. As long as Albert didn’t die, Kal would be able to argue that whatever he’d done had been enough.
Unfortunately, that meant he had to keep the prick alive. Which was just one more reason to seek him out amid the masses and hoist him off the throne before it was toppled. And if his hand somehow managed to be in Albert’s shirt pocket, well, that would surely be an accident.
Finding Albert’s pocket empty, however, was a disaster of cataclysmic proportions.
35
“Get back! Leave me alone! Toss them in cages! How dare they attack me! Genie, get me out of here!”
Kharah! The latter was the one thing Kal didn’t want Albert to wish.
Although, technically, Albert hadn’t wished it. Samantha could complain about semantics all she wanted, but in this instance, they were a godssend.
“Genie! Did you hear me? I said to get me out of here!”
With two centaurs between them, a gnome hanging on to one centaur’s ears and cursing
in Bavarian, and a clump of dirt landing on the other’s forehead with a giant thud and splatter, Kal shook his head as if he couldn’t hear, which was what Albert would think, but which, in reality, was his answer to the “get me out of here” part. He couldn’t take Albert anywhere until the guy wished for it.
Should have listened to the rules.
The island shuddered and everyone scrambled on top of each other more. The gnomes were the best at it, forming pyramids on the centaurs’ shoulders, the trolls’ flat heads, and even Harv’s antlers. The birds took off with no magical nudging from Kal, and the peris disappeared en masse with one gust of wind. But the rest were stuck on a sinking island.
Kal monitored the crowd. He only had to act if Albert was in danger, and so far, the ibn el-kalb was only inconvenienced.
“You enjoying this?” Harv oophed when a gnome’s foot landed in his eye.
“It has its moments.” One being when O’Toole went to bop Seamus on the head with the shillelagh and conked Albert instead.
Kal would have to check The Code to see if that constituted danger. He’d look into it tomorrow.
“Son of a bitch!” Albert hollered.
This time O’Toole hit him on purpose. One didn’t insult a leprechaun’s mother without risking the consequences.
“Any plans to fix this anytime soon?” asked Harv.
“Fix what?”
“That’s what I was afraid of.” Harv flung his head and the gnome went flying.
Kal looked around, trying to see where Samantha had gone. The water was only shin high on the land surrounding the dais, so she should be able to get back to the carpet before there was any real danger.
But what was she doing here in the first place? He’d sent her away to keep her safe. He had enough on his plate, what with not knowing where the amulet and his lantern were; he didn’t need to worry about her, too.
Not that he had a choice. Master or not, Sam was always going to be on his mind.
***
Samantha ducked behind the stupid gilded throne Albert had had to have. She had no doubt he’d wished it; he’d joked about getting a matching set for the dining room once they were married.
He hadn’t been joking.
He could kiss those days good-bye—just like he could kiss the amulet good-bye. And Kal’s lantern, too.
She tightened her fist around both. Thank God Kal had figured out her plan. Thank God Albert was so transparently greedy. Thank God the gnomes and leprechauns were so predictable.
She’d been counting on their propensity for creating chaos. The rest of the townspeople, too. The perfect cover to reach in and snatch back what was rightfully hers. Albert had been so caught up in the prospect of getting hurt that he hadn’t noticed her circling around behind him. When the masses had climbed onto the platform, it had been easy enough to jostle him and steal both pieces.
She strung the necklace over her head and tucked it beneath her shirt. Torn and dirty in spots, her shirt was still the best hiding place she had. The amulet was a bit tougher to conceal, and in the end, Samantha decided to keep it in her hand, wishing all the while that she could somehow get it to Kal.
Wait a minute… She knew how to do that. Placing the amulet over her heart, she whispered, “I wish it would take me to Kal.”
Unfortunately, Kal was standing right next to Albert when she transported there.
“You!” the slimy lizard-breath screeched the second he saw her. He lunged the next second, his aim going right for the amulet.
Samantha jerked out of the way and the necklaces swung free, practically hitting Kal in the face. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him smile so big.
“Sam! You have my lantern! You’re my master again!”
She hadn’t made that connection yet, but the minute he said it, she did. And she knew just what to do.
“Kal, I wish you’d turn Albert into a lizard!”
After all, it was only fitting.
36
The water damage was negligible, and the island returned to its normal height in the river once Samantha wished the majority of townsfolk back to their homes.
She took a few minutes to give Bart and Maille a piece of her mind about the importance of parents being there for their children and putting their family back together before wishing them back to their winged and scaly state. Then she kissed Dirham on the head and shook Lexy’s paw and wished them off to a well-deserved vacation in the Himalayas to visit with some distant relatives.
She just laughed at Harv when he put the moves on her yet again, and as for the lizard Albert had become, well, she let him see how much fun it wasn’t being holed up in a cage. She gave the cage Kal conjured to Stavros, figuring it was as much a prison as any the satyr could keep him in.
That left just her and Kal. Alone on the island amid a dusting of orange glitter, with the amulet and the lantern and all the privacy they could want.
“We did it!” She threw herself into his arms. “You understood what I was trying to tell you!”
Kal hugged her. “And you got the amulet and the lantern! Have I ever told you how brilliant you are? That was sheer genius.”
“Just call me Einstein.” Albert could stick that in his craw and munch on it.
With his tiny little pointed lizard teeth.
“Not Einstein,” said Kal, threading his fingers through her curls. “Your hair is prettier.”
“Okay, then how about Plato?”
Kal shook his head, his gaze on a curl he was tugging on. “He had too much facial hair.”
“Socrates?”
“Too old.”
“Da Vinci?”
“Too bizarre. He talked to himself all the time. Probably because he was the only one who could hold an intelligent enough conversation with him, but still… His social skills weren’t up to par.”
Samantha looked at him. “Tell me you didn’t know them personally.”
“Is that a wish?”
She smacked his arm. “Seriously. Did you know them?”
Kal shrugged. “Sam, the past isn’t important. It’s the here and now that is. And I can honestly say that I’m very happy with where and when I am.”
Not quite what Berosus had said, but she really didn’t want to think about the Oracle and his word problems right now.
She tucked the amulet into Kal’s pants pocket, linked her hands around his waist, and looked up at him. “I like where you are now, too.”
And just like that, the moment changed. No teasing now, no word games. No double meanings. Just, raw, honest, real desire.
“Kal, I’d like you to kiss me.” Couldn’t be any more honest than that.
He tilted her chin up with a crooked finger. “That’s right, Sam. You don’t have to make it a wish. I’ll gladly do it without you wishing me to.”
“Then do it.”
He did.
Oh how he did.
Cradling her head in both of his hands, stepping closer until there wasn’t room for air to wisp between them, Kal claimed her lips with the softest, sexiest, most compelling kiss yet. It spoke so much of want and need and admiration and desire and caring and longing that it took Samantha a few minutes to realize she no longer had her feet on the ground.
Kal had kissed them right out from under her.
They were flying again. On the gold carpet, hovering just above the ground, the movement so ethereal it was as if she were walking on air. Actually, with Kal kissing her like this, she could have been.
He tucked her against his chest, and she could hear the beating of his heart beneath her ear. Hers matched its rhythm, and she couldn’t stop the words.
“Kal, I want you.” No wish this time.
She felt him swallow. Heard the breath whoosh from his body. Felt his arms tighten around her. Felt him harden against her.
“I want you, too, Sam.”
He kissed her again, and her stomach fluttered when his tongue slid between her lips.
Or may
be that was because the carpet went soaring over the tops of the reeds, then coasted down behind them as if they were surfing a wave, all the tummy-swirling turbulence mimicked in the feelings evoked by his kiss.
They flew over a starlit field of lavender, and still Kal kissed her. She had a momentary thought about flying blind, but then Kal changed the angle of his lips and the worry flew off with the wind rushing behind them.
She could finally come up for air (not that she was complaining) when the carpet landed on the far side of the island in front of a grove of fruit trees. Sweet-smelling honeysuckle and wisteria braided the trunks like garland, their teacup-sized flowers blossoming in controlled chaos like an artfully messy hairstyle, wisps here, tendrils there. Some kind of fluorescent vine draped through the banana trees, ringing the grove about two stories up, and provided a soft white glow like Christmas lights around a porch.
Mushrooms in various shapes and sizes dotted a clearing that had a stone circle filled with glowing orange rocks at its center. Off to the side, a round, thatched hut was nestled between the overhanging branches of a weeping cherry tree and a moss-covered hill. A thin ribbon of water cascaded from the hill and formed an intimate pool with pale blue light rippling up from the bottom. Neon moths fluttered along the banks, and a flock of fireflies formed figure eights over the center, then zipped up over the roof of the hut, playing tag with each other, their lighted tails like a comet of rainbows.
“Oh, Kal, what is this place? It’s perfect. Paradise.”
Kal waved his fingers, and the flying carpet rolled itself into a compact roll. He set it beside a cluster of rocks and picked a bouquet of white forget-me-nots that he handed to her. “Now it’s paradise.”
As if she’d forget him.
Kal captured her fingers with his when she reached for the flowers whose fragrances were a mixture of tart apple and something she couldn’t name. Exotic. Otherworldly. Like here. Except… this didn’t feel otherworldly. It felt right.
It felt like home.
Funny how, now that she had the means to return home, all she could think was that home was where Kal was.
