The children were truly tired, and their skins were truly burnt, but the course they walked now was easier going than it had been before. The cat had a knack for finding the shadows between the sand-hills, which gave the siblings precious time to cool down as they toiled along. But the horizon remained barren, and even with their new guide on hand, it appeared the end of their ordeal was still not in sight. Anna cursed Dr Sassan and the ghul, muttering nastier and nastier insults with every step. What sort of man would stoop to attacking children? What sort of doctor was he?
‘Oh,’ said Max suddenly. ‘It’s stopped.’
The cat had halted at Anna’s feet. It purred loudly, butting her with its tiny head, rubbing against her leg as it passed her. Anna managed to smile. For all its mystique, the cat really did look quite lovely.
‘This had better not be it,’ said Max, looking far less impressed. ‘It hasn’t taken us anywhere!’
Anna looked around, surprised. She was sure she would be able to spot something – a lone tent, or a distant tree – but the great sand desert was stretched out around them as monotonously as ever. For all she knew, they might not have made any progress at all.
‘I’m sure it’s just resting,’ she said. ‘Aren’t you, kitty? I know you’re going to take us all the way home. I trust you.’
The cat’s eyes gleamed. It slunk between Anna’s feet one last time, its tail tickling her calves – and then it bolted away into the wasteland, vanishing in an instant. Anna started after it, alarmed – but this time, the cat had not left a trail. A squall of dust blew up into Anna’s face, which made her sneeze and cough. By the time her eyes were clear, she couldn’t even remember which way the cat had run.
Max fell to his knees.
‘It wasn’t a cat,’ he said despairingly. ‘It was another ghul – the kind that lures you away so it can eat you. It must have gone to fetch its friends.’
His chest rose and fell in a shuddering heave. Anna turned away, her voice catching in her throat. She was sure the cat had meant to help them. It definitely hadn’t been a ghul.
Or had it?
‘You don’t have to cry,’ she said shakily. ‘I’m sure it’s coming back. We’ll be okay.’
Max wrinkled his nose. ‘I’m not crying,’ he said.
Anna spun around. Max was kneeling on the ground, his face weary and burnt, but he had spoken the truth. He wasn’t crying.
‘Then who is?’ she said.
It was deathly quiet in the desert. The sand had muffled their footsteps, and the wind had swept past with barely a whisper. But now a sound had emerged from the wilderness – a low moan, soft and haunting, rising up into their ears from the eastern hills. Max ducked down, alarmed. The last strange wail the children had heard had been the spell-song of the troll, luring them down to its riverside lair. What creature was wailing at them now?
Anna stepped towards the sound.
‘Stop!’ said Max. ‘Cover your ears!’
‘I’m not bewitched,’ said Anna, rolling her eyes. ‘I just want to see what it is.’
Max scrunched up his face, but he managed to drag himself after Anna as she strode away. Neither of them had the energy left to creep.
With a final push, the children rounded the side of the dune.
Anna stopped. Her mouth dropped open.
Whatever she had been expecting, it was not this.
Standing in the centre of the desert was an enormous sandcastle – a castle built with such extraordinary detail that it almost looked real. Towers with pointed spires stretched up into the air, their rooftops as tall as lampposts. A curtain wall made of tiny yellow bricks stretched around the perimeter, arching up over a spindly portcullis gate. Even the moat was made of sand, rippling like water in a perfect, impossible breeze.
But the castle was not empty. Sitting behind the portcullis was a boy – a boy whose head was buried in his shimmering hands. Another sob wavered through the castle gate, mournful and low.
‘You!’ cried Anna.
The boy’s head shot up. With a sudden sweep of his hand, the great castle collapsed around him, bricks and towers exploding in cascades of sand. Anna covered her eyes, coughing.
The boy’s voice rang out loudly through the cloud of dust. ‘Tanham bezar,’ he said. ‘Man ba to dava nadaram.’
Max yelped and fell backwards, but Anna only grimaced. With a tired flourish, she drew the white knife from its sheath, tensing her arm as the jolt of power singed its way through her body. She was hot – too hot – but this time she was determined that the boy would not escape her.
The dust cleared. The boy was on his feet now, his face twisted in anger. He waved his arms at them, flicking his long, tanned fingers.
Anna took a step closer. ‘We’re not leaving,’ she said. ‘So don’t even try to run away.’
The boy scowled. ‘You should not be here,’ he said huskily. ‘You will burn. You will die.’
‘Yeah, we know,’ said Anna. ‘We didn’t choose to come out here, believe me.’
‘Your friend tried to hurt us,’ said Max meanly. ‘Dr Sassan. He gave us a bottle with a ghul inside, and it dropped us in the middle of nowhere.’
The boy’s eyes widened, but he remained silent. Anna stared at him. Now that she was looking closely, she didn’t think the boy looked particularly villainous – impish, maybe, but not evil. There was certainly something odd about his skin. The boy seemed to turn a slightly different colour every second, flickering and shifting in the sunlight, as if there were flames trapped just beneath the surface.
The flame-men of the secret world, their bodies composed of fire and smoke.
‘You’re not really a boy, are you?’ said Anna. ‘You’re a genie. A djinni, I mean.’ She thought back to her book of fairy tales. ‘I bet you’re a jann.’
The boy flinched.
‘You should not know these things,’ he said. ‘It is forbidden.’
Anna kept her stare fierce, but she felt quite pleased. She’d suspected the boy might be a djinni ever since they’d spied the silver ring on Sassan’s finger – and she had been right!
‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘We’ve met lots of fairies.’ She lowered the knife, just a little bit. ‘Most of them have tried to eat us.’
‘But we’ve always escaped,’ said Max. ‘So you’d better not be hungry.’
The jann glanced over at Max. His eyes flickered, as if something new was stirring at the back of his mind. A mischievous look spread across his face. ‘I am hungry indeed,’ he said. ‘And I see the sun has cooked you well. Are you feeling tender?’
Max staggered back in horror as the genie boy stepped towards him. The jann laughed, cackling as he reached into his pocket.
‘Stop it!’ said Anna. She quickly raised the knife again. ‘Put that down!’
But the boy did not stop. He pulled a flask from his pocket, laughing as he tossed it through the air. Max caught it in his dead hand, surprised. The jann grinned. Anna thought he looked rather pleased with himself for having executed such a fine joke.
‘You should drink all of that,’ he said helpfully, nodding at the flask. ‘The sun is cruel today.’
Max looked at the flask suspiciously – but suspicious or not, his thirst was too great to turn the gift down. He swiftly unscrewed the lid and brought the flask to his lips, desperately gulping at whatever was inside. Anna watched helplessly, not sure if she should be grateful or afraid.
Max wiped his lips.
‘It’s just water,’ he said.
A spark of life had returned to Max’s face. Anna breathed a sigh of relief, although now she was more confused than ever. She turned back to the jann, a dozen questions burning on her lips.
‘Why would you help us?’ she said. ‘We know you’re working with Sassan, and he just tried to murder us. Aren’t you on his side?’
The good humour faded from the boy’s face. He balled up his fists, his jaw clenched tight.
‘To yek ahmagh hasti,’ he sai
d. There was a hint of anger in his voice now, seething like a desert wind. ‘I am not allowed to choose my side. I am a prisoner. I am a servant.’
He kicked the sand in anger, fresh tears welling in his eyes.
‘I am Caspar, first slave of the sorceress Zareen, bound in service to the master who wears the silver ring. I will help my master find Zareen’s tomb, and I will help uncover the great ring of power, and I will meet the mighty djinni trapped within.’
The boy’s face twisted in despair.
‘I will stand by my master’s side as the world is set on fire.’
10
A BED OF SCORPIONS
YOU CAN’T LET SASSAN DO THAT,’ EXCLAIMED Max. ‘You can’t!’
The jann sat back down in the dirt. Tears steamed away to nothing as they dripped down his blazing cheeks.
‘For centuries the silver ring was lost,’ he said bitterly. ‘Buried deep in the citadel of Zareen. Now people have come to dig the city up again. They do not understand that some things should remain forgotten.’
Anna thought about the Professor, crouched beside a dusty stone tablet with pen and paper in hand, happily decoding a forgotten language. Would he listen to her if she tried to warn him of the danger they were in? The more she thought about it, the more she found herself losing hope. Some stories were just too incredible to be believed.
‘Help us, then,’ said Max. ‘Help us stop Sassan.’
Caspar shook his head. ‘I must not act against my master,’ he said. ‘And if my master is your enemy, I must not help you.’
But as he said it, the jann’s eyes twinkled. Anna recognised that look. It was the look she gave the Professor when she was promising to turn off the light and go to sleep at the end of the next chapter, or the look Max gave the Professor when he was promising not to eat any more lollies. The jann looked like any child agreeing they shouldn’t break the rules – while already wondering how they could break them without being caught.
Caspar wanted to help them. All she had to do was ask the right questions.
‘Okay,’ she said slowly. ‘We don’t want to do anything to Sassan, so don’t worry about that. We just want to get back to the camp. So where is that, exactly?’
Caspar pointed. ‘It is that way,’ he said. ‘You have many miles to go.’
Anna’s heart sank.
‘How come you’re out here, then?’ said Max. ‘Shouldn’t you be with Sassan?’
Caspar smiled slyly. ‘We can not search for too long during the day, or else those at the camp will grow wary, and I am not trusted enough to search for the ring alone. Now my master has returned to camp, banishing me until I am called upon again. Until that moment comes, I am free to flit away as I please.’
Anna remembered the time the Professor had been called away to a meeting while they had all been weeding the garden, and how she and Max had promptly stopped weeding and built a fire engine with the sprinklers instead. Despite her mistrust, Anna realised she was starting to quite like the jann.
‘Where did you get that?’ said Caspar suddenly. He was staring at the white knife.
Anna quickly lowered the blade to her side, feeling a bit self-conscious. ‘I found it,’ she said. ‘A very long way from here.’
Caspar gave her a curious look. ‘It does not look like a blade from your world.’
‘I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re saying,’ said Anna, flushing. ‘I’m not a thief.’
Max snorted under his breath.
‘Knives like that are always stolen,’ said Caspar. The skin across his fingers rippled. ‘Do you know what that blade can do?’
‘Of course I do,’ retorted Anna. ‘It’s my knife, isn’t it?’
Caspar smiled. The impish look crept across his face again, lighting up his eyes. Then he pursed his lips and whistled, slowly lifting his hands into the air. A whirlwind of sand spun up around his feet.
‘It will not be yours for much longer,’ he said, grinning as the sand danced up to his chest. ‘If you know how to use that blade, you could use it to harm my master. I will have to take it from you.’
He whistled again. Max blocked his ears, running to stand behind Anna as she hefted the knife in her hand. Now Anna wished that she hadn’t trusted the jann at all. If you are on a quest, do not tell a fairy where you are going or what you hope to do. Wasn’t that one of the first rules for dealing with fairies? The genie boy had learnt their business, and now it seemed they were in even more trouble than before. A dark shadow fell across the desert. Max yelled out a warning, his head snapping up before Anna had time to react; he pushed Anna hard in the back, sending her sprawling into the sand. She rolled over to see an enormous bird soar through the air where she had just been standing. She barely had time to recognise its skull-like head before the vulture had sailed past, arcing back into the sky to prepare for its next attack.
‘Anna!’ yelled Max. ‘Get off the ground!’
The sand on either side of Anna’s head was quaking. Anna leapt to her feet just as a black claw burst out beside her ear. Scorpions were wriggling out of the desert all around them, pincers snapping, poisonous tails poised to strike. They scuttled towards the siblings like a demonic army, each one a perfectly formed nightmare.
A second vulture dived low, almost grazing Max’s forehead with its claws; Anna jumped away as a scorpion lashed out with its tail, striking the ground where her foot had been a second before. Max fell over as he dodged the third bird; scorpions surrounded him, stingers quivering with excitement.
‘Stop!’ screamed Anna. ‘Get away!’
In an instant, power surged through her arm, electrifying her fingertips; the knife blazed in her hand, brighter and hotter than the sun. Anna swung the knife-tip towards the nearest clump of scorpions. She flicked her wrist swiftly, pointing the knife at each of the monsters in turn as they circled her brother.
‘Back off,’ she said fiercely. ‘Don’t you dare touch him.’
A vulture hissed wickedly as it wheeled past her ear. Anna spun around, feeling the power of the knife radiate into the sky. She pointed the tip at the nearest bird, focussing all her energy directly between its eyes.
‘Get down here,’ she commanded. ‘All of you.’ She shot a mean look at the other two vultures, zig-zagging the knife between them. ‘Land over there, and don’t fly up again.’
She gasped as the intense heat flowed through her arm and out into the air. She was panting heavily now, unable to control her breathing as a wild fury pulsed through her, desperately trying not to boil herself from the inside. With a deep, valiant breath, Anna forced the power back down, hoping very much that she wouldn’t pass out from the effort.
Silence fell upon the desert. Anna dropped her arm, the heat and the adrenaline slowly fading away. Max let out a small whimper as he climbed to his feet.
The scorpions sat frozen all around them, their deadly tails swaying gently. The three black vultures landed together atop the nearest dune, their vast wings tucked behind them, their beady eyes fixed on the girl with the magic knife.
Caspar stood grinning before them. Anna glared at him furiously as the last gusts of the whirlwind were dispelled.
‘You have bested me,’ he said sadly, although he didn’t look sad at all. ‘I have failed my master.’
‘Yes, you have,’ said Anna angrily. She took a step towards the boy, careful not to tread on any scorpions. ‘Maybe now I’ll turn your little army back on you.’
Caspar’s eyes twinkled. ‘It is your army to command,’ he said. ‘You may do with it as you please.’ He still hadn’t stopped smiling. ‘The scorpions are strong warriors. A mother scorpion can carry all of her children on her back.’
‘Nobody cares,’ said Max. ‘Go get him, Anna.’
Anna took another step forward. Caspar stood his ground.
‘The vultures are not strong,’ he continued. ‘But their wings are vast, and their feathers are thick. They cast great shadows when they fly.’
&nb
sp; ‘He’s just trying to distract you,’ said Max. ‘Don’t listen to him.’
But Anna was listening. She looked down at the scorpions, motionless on the desert floor, waiting silently for their next instruction. She glanced over at the vultures, admiring their awesome size. A wave of relief ran down her spine – followed immediately by a sickening shudder of dread.
‘I don’t think I can do that,’ she whispered. ‘I really don’t like bugs.’
‘What are you doing?’ yelled Max. ‘Get him!’
Caspar shrugged. ‘There is nothing else I can do. I am bound to the silver ring. I can twist the rules a little, but I can not break them altogether.’
‘Do what?’ demanded Max. ‘What have you done?’
Anna knelt down, daring herself to touch a scorpion. A chill seized her under the armpits as her fingers edged closer; she found herself fighting against every instinct, her brain begging her to stop. The scorpion waited patiently. Its claws twitched.
‘Are you crazy?’ spluttered Max.
With a deep breath, Anna patted the scorpion along its thorax, tensing all her muscles as her fingertip ran over every bump. She pulled her hand back as quickly as she could, gasping.
The scorpion wiggled happily.
‘They are good friends,’ said Caspar. ‘They always keep me company at night.’
Anna couldn’t think of anything worse. She sighed as she stood up, glancing at Max apologetically. ‘You’re not going to like this either,’ she said. ‘But it looks like it’s the only chance we’ve got.’
She spun the white knife in her hand. The scorpions shivered in anticipation. The largest of the vultures let out a low hiss.
‘Okay, everyone,’ she said, searching for a confidence she didn’t quite feel. She swung the knife towards the scorpions. ‘Could all of you gather together, please? In two groups, I think. Thanks.’
She clenched her teeth as hundreds of black legs scurried to life around her. Scorpions ran over each other in their haste to follow her bidding, pincers and tails getting tangled in the scuffle. In seconds they had formed two equal groups: two jet black puddles of poison and claws.
The Genie Rings Page 6
