Chapter 3

The ‘efreet’s shadow fell over them, followed by the hulking body of the gigantic immortal. Water streamed from the hairy chest, the ‘efreet’s pugnacious face was split by a wide grin. “I took your homes several weeks ago, during the Battle at the Tel. A battle your masters lost, by the way. If that old goat, Majiid, is still alive, he now finds himself without a djinn!”

“Still alive? If you have murdered my master, I swear by Akhran that—”

“Sond! Don’t! Don’t be a—” Pukah bit off his words with a sigh. Too late.

Swelling with rage, Sond soared to ten feet in height. His head smashed into the cave ceiling, sending a shower of rock crashing to the floor below. With a bitter snarl, the djinn hurled himself at Kaug. The ‘efreet was unprepared for the suddenness and fury of Sond’s attack. The weight of the djinn’s body knocked the hulking Kaug off his feet; the two hit the ground with a thud that sent seismic waves along the ocean floor.

Clutching at a rock to keep his balance on the heaving ground, Pukah turned to offer what comfort he could to Asrial, only to find that the angel had vanished.

A huge foot lashed out in Pukah’s direction. Crawling up on the rock to be out of the way of the combatants thrashing about around him, Pukah considered the matter, discussing it with himself, whom he considered to be the most intelligent of all parties currently in the room.

“Where has your angel gone, Pukah?”

“Back to Promenthas.”

“No, she wouldn’t do that.”

“You are right, Pukah,” said Pukah. “She is much too fond of you to leave you.”

“Do you really think so?” asked Pukah rapturously.

“I do indeed!” replied his other self, although his statement lacked a certain ring of conviction.

Pukah almost took himself to task over this, then decided, due to the serious nature of the current crisis, to overlook it.

“What this means is that Asrial is here and in considerable danger. I don’t know what Kaug would do if he discovered an angel of Promenthas searching through his underwear.”

Pukah glanced at the combatants irritably. The howling and gnarling and gnashing was making it quite difficult for him to carry on a normal conversation. “Ah, ha!” he said suddenly, hopefully, “but perhaps he didn’t see her!”

“He heard her voice. He answered her question.”

“That’s true. Well, she’s gone,” said Pukah in matteroffact tones. “Perhaps she’s just turned invisible, as she used to do when I first caught a glimpse of her in camp. Do you suppose she’s powerful enough to hide herself from the eyes of an ‘efreet?”

There was no answer. Pukah tried another question. “Does her disappearance make things better or worse for us, my friend?”

“I don’t see,” came the gloomy response, “how it matters.”

Taking this view of the situation himself, Pukah crossed his legs, leaned his elbow on his knee and sat, chin in hand, to wait for the inevitable.

It was not long in coming.

Sond’s rage had carried him further in his battle with the ‘efreet than anyone could have expected. Once Kaug recovered from his surprise at the sudden attack, however, it was easy for the strong ‘efreet to gain the upper hand, and Sond’s rage was effectively punched and pummeled out of him.

Now it was the ‘efreet who carried the djinn, and soon a battered and bloody Sond was hanging suspended by his feet from the cracked ceiling of the cave. Dangling head down, his arms and legs bound with cords of prickly green vine, the djinn did not give up, but fought against his bonds—struggling wildly until he began to revolve at the end of his tether.

“I wouldn’t do that, Sond,” advised Pukah from his seat on the rock. “If you do free yourself, you will only come down on your head and you should certainly take care of what brains you have.”

“You could have helped, you bastard son of Sul!” Sond writhed and twisted. Blood and saliva dripped from his mouth.

Pukah was shocked. “I would not think of attacking our new master!” he said rebukingly.

Turning from admiring his handiwork, Kaug eyed the young djinn suspiciously. “Such loyalty, little Pukah. I’m touched.”

Sliding down from his rock, the young djinn prostrated himself on the cave floor before the ‘efreet, his head brushing the ground.

“This is the law of the immortals who serve upon the mortal plane,” recited Pukah in a nasal tone, his nose pressed flat against the floor. “Whosoever shall acquire the physical object to which the immortal is bound shall henceforth become the master of said immortal and shall be due all allegiance and loyalty.”

Sond shrieked something vile, having to do with Pukah’s mother and a male goat.

Pukah appeared pained. “I fear these interruptions annoy you, My Master. If I may be allowed—”

“Certainly!” Kaug waved a negligent hand. The ‘efreet appeared preoccupied; his gaze darting here and there about the grotto.

Believing he knew the quarry the ‘efreet was hunting, Pukah thought it best to distract him. He picked up a handful of seaweed, grabbed hold of Sond by his turban, and stuffed the pale green plant into the djinn’s yammering mouth.

“His offensive outbursts will no longer disturb you, My Master!” Pukah threw himself on his knees before the ‘efreet.

“Allegiance and loyalty, eh, little Pukah?” said Kaug. Stroking his chin, he regarded the djinn thoughtfully. “Then my first command to you is to tell me why you are here.”

“We were drawn here, Master, by the physical objects to which we are bound according to the law that states—”

“Yes, yes,” said Kaug irritably, casting another searching glance around the cave once more. “So you came here because you couldn’t help yourself. You are lying to your master, little Pukah, and that is quite against the rules. You must be punished.” Lashing out with his foot, the ‘efreet kicked Pukah under the chin, snapping the djinn’s head back painfully and splitting his lip.

“The truth. You came here in search of Nedjma. And the third member of your party. What was her reason for coming?”

“I assure you, Master,” said Pukah, wiping blood from his mouth, “there were only the two of us—”

Kaug kicked him in the face again.

“Come, come, loyal little Pukah! Where may I find the lovely body belonging to that charming voice I heard when I entered my dwelling this night?”

“Alas, My Master, you see before you the only bodies belonging to the only voices you heard in your dwelling place. It depends upon your taste, of course, but I consider my body the loveliest of the two—”

Nonchalantly, Kaug drove his foot into the young djinn’s kidney. Real or imaginary, the pain was intense. Pukah doubled up with a groan.

“I heard a voice—a female voice, little Pukah!”

“I have been told I have a most melodious ring to myughh!”

Kaug kicked the djinn in the other kidney. The force of the blow rolled Pukah over on his back. Drawing his sword, the ‘efreet straddled the young djinn, his weapon poised above a most vital and vulnerable area on Pukah’s body.

“So, little Pukah, you claim the female voice was yours. It will be, my friend, if you do not tell me the truth and reveal the whereabouts of this trespasser!”

Covering himself with his hands, Pukah gazed up at the enraged ‘efreet with pleading eyes. “O My Master! Have mercy, I beg of you! You are distressed by the unwarranted attack on your person by one who should, by rights, be your slave”—a muffied shriek from Sond—”and that has thrown a cog (ha, ha, small joke) in the wheel of your usually brilliant thought process! Look around, Great Kaug! Could anyone or anything remain hidden from your allseeing gaze, O Mighty Servant of the Most Holy Quar?”

This question stumped the ‘efreet. If he said yes, he admitted he wasn’t allseeing, and if he said no, he granted that Pukah was right and that he—Kaug—hadn’t really heard the strange voice after all. The ‘efreet sent his piercing gaze into all parts of the cave, dissecting every shadow, using all his senses to detect a hidden presence in the dwelling.

Kaug felt a thrill in his nerve endings, as if someone had touched his skin with a feather. There was another being in his cave, someone who had the ability to enter his dwelling without permission, someone who was able to hide herself from his sight. A film of white mist blocked his vision. Kaug rubbed his eyes, but that did nothing to dispel the odd sensation.

What should he do? Castrate Pukah? The ‘efreet pondered. Other than providing a bit of mild amusement, it would probably accomplish little else. Such an act of violence might actually frighten the creature into disappearing completely. No, she must be lulled into a sense of wellbeing.

I will give Pukah the hemp and watch him weave the rope that will go around his neck, said Kaug to himself. Aloud, he intoned, “You are right, little Pukah. I must have been imagining things.” Sheathing his sword, the ‘efreet kindly helped the djinn to his feet. Kaug wiped slime from Pukah’s shoulder and solicitously plucked fronds of seaweed from the djinn’s pantalons. “Forgive me. I have a quick temper. A failing of mine, I admit. Sond’s attempt on my life upset me.” The ‘efreet pressed his hand over his huge chest. “It wounded me deeply, in fact, especially after all the trouble I went to in order to rescue both of you.”

“Sond is a beast!” cried Pukah, casting Sond an indignant glance and congratulating himself on his cleverness. The young djinn’s sharp ears pricked. “Uh, what do you mean. . . rescue us? If it’s not asking too much of you in your weakened condition to explain, Most Beneficent and LongSuffering Master.”

“No, no. I’m just exhausted, that’s all. And my head is spinning. If I could just sit down. . .”

“Certainly, Master. You do seem pale, sort of chartreuse. Lean on me.”

Kaug draped his massive arm over Pukah’s slender shoulder. Groaning, the young djinn staggered beneath the weight.

“Where to, Master?” he gasped.

“My favorite chair,” said Kaug with a weak gesture. “Over there, near my cooking pot.”

“Yes, Master,” Pukah said with more spirit than breath left in his body. By the time the two reached the huge sponge that the ‘efreet indicated, the young djinn was practically walking on his knees. Kaug sank into his chair.

Pukah, suppressing a groan, slumped down on the floor at his feet. Sond had lapsed into silence, whether in order to hear better or because he was unconscious the young djinn didn’t know and, at this point, didn’t care.

“You were not present at the battle that took place around the Tel, were you, little Pukah?” said Kaug, settling his massive body in his chair. Leaning back, he regarded the young djinn with a mildeyed gaze.

“You mean the battle between Sheykhs Majiid and Jaafar and Zeid?” questioned Pukah uneasily.

“No,” said Kaug, shaking his head. “There was no battle between the tribes of the desert.”

“There wasn’t?” Pukah appeared much amazed, then recovered himself. “Ah, of course, there wasn’t! Why should there be? After all, we are all brothers in the spirit of Akhran—”

“I mean the battle between the tribes of the desert and the armies of the Amir of Kich,” continued Kaug coolly. Pausing a moment, the ‘efreet added, “Your mouth is working, little Pukah, but I hear nothing coming out of it. I didn’t accidentally hit something vital, did I?”

Shaking his head, Pukah found his voice, somewhere down around his ankles. “My. . . my master and the. . . the armies of—”

“Former master,” amended Kaug.

“Certainly. Former mmaster,” Pukah stammered. “Forgive me, noble Kaug.” Prostrating himself, he hid his burning face against the floor.

The ‘efreet smiled and settled himself more comfortably in his spongy soft chair. “The outcome of the battle was never in question. Riding their magical steeds, the troops of the Amir easily defeated your puny desert fighters.”

“Were. . . were all . . . killed?” Pukah could barely force himself to say the word.

“Killed? No. The objective of the Imam was to bring as many living souls to Quar as possible. The orders of the Amir, therefore, were to capture, not kill. The young women and children we brought to Kich to learn the ways of the One, True God. The old people we left in the desert, for they can be of no use to us in building the new world Quar is destined to rule. Your master and his spahis we left there, also. Soon, bereft of their families, broken in spirit, weak in body, they will come to us and bow before Quar.”

A strangled sound from Sond was expressive of defiance.

Kaug gazed at the elder djinn sadly. “Ah, he will never learn gratitude, that one. You are intelligent, Pukah. The winds of heaven have switched direction. They blow, not from the desert, but from the city. The time of Akhran is dwindling. Long did Majiid call for his djinn to come to his aid, but there was no answer.”

Glancing through his fingers at Sond, Pukah saw that the older djinn had ceased struggling. Tears flowed from Sond’s eyes, dripping into the puddles of sea water on the floor beneath him. Pukah turned his head from the distressing sight.

“The Sheykh’s faith in his God is beginning to weaken. His djinn will not come at his command. His wife and children were taken captive. His eldest son—the light of his eyes—is missing and all assume him to be dead—”

Pukah lifted a strained face. “Khardan? Dead?”

“Isn’t he?” Kaug’s eyes stabbed at him.

“Don’t you know?” Pukah parried the thrust.

They stared at one another, mental swords clashing, then Kaug—falling back—shrugged. “The body was not discovered, but that means little. It is probably in the belly of a hyena—a fitting end to a wild dog.”

Lowering his head again, Pukah endeavored to gather up his widely scattered wits. “It must be true! Khardan must be dead! Otherwise, he would have called on me to come to his aid!”

“What are you mumbling about, little Pukah?” Kaug nudged the djinn with his foot.

“I was. . . er . . . remarking to myself that I am most fortunate to be your slave—”

“Indeed you are, little Pukah. The Amir’s men were going to burn your basket and sell that lamp but I—recognizing them as the dwellings of fellow immortals—was quick to rescue you both. Only to be set upon in my own home—” The ‘efreet glowered at Sond.

“Forgive him, Master. He thinks with his pectorals.” Where is Asrial? Pukah wondered. Much like Kaug, he was darting glances here and there in an effort to locate her. Has she heard? A sudden thought occurred to him. If she has, she must be frantic with worry.

“I—I don’t suppose, Kind Kaug, that you could reveal to me the fate of my mast—former master’s—wives?” Pukah asked warily.

“Why do you want to know, little Pukah?” Kaug yawned.

“Because I pity those who must try to console them for the loss of such a husband,” Pukah said, sitting back on his heels and regarding the ‘efreet with a face as bland as a pan of goat’s milk. “The Calif was deeply in love with his wives and they with him. Their sorrow at his loss must be terrible to witness.”

“Now, as a matter of fact, it is a great coincidence, but Khardan’s two wives have disappeared as well,” Kaug said. Leaning back in his chair, the ‘efreet regarded Pukah through narrowed eyelids.

It may have been his overwrought imagination, but Pukah thought he heard a smothered cry at this. The ‘efreet’s eyes opened suddenly. “What was that?” Kaug glanced about the cave.

“Sond! Moan more quietly! You disturb the Master!” Pukah ordered, leaping to his feet. “Allow me to deal with him, O Mighty ‘Efreet. You rest.”

Kaug obediently leaned back and shut his eyes. He could sense Pukah hovering over him, staring at him intently. Then he heard the djinn padding away on his bare feet, hastening toward Sond. The ‘efreet heard something else, too—another grieving moan. Opening his eyes a slit, he saw a most interesting sight. Pukah had tucked his hands beneath his armpits and was flapping his elbows frantically.

Sond stared at him, bewildered, then suddenly took the hint—for that’s what it obviously was—and began to groan loudly.

“What do you mean by that dismal howling?” Pukah shouted. “My Master is in enough pain as it is. Shut up this instant!” Whirling about to face the ‘efreet, Pukah grabbed hold of a largish rock. “Allow me to knock him senseless, My Master!”

“No, that will not be necessary,” Kaug muttered, shifting in his chair. “I will deal with him myself.”

Pukah flapping his arms. Pukah with wings? The trail had taken an unusual turn and the ‘efreet, in trying to follow the path, had the distinct impression he’d become lost en route. He knew he was getting somewhere, but he needed time to find his way.

“Sond, I confine you to your chirak!” The ‘efreet snapped his fingers and the djinn’s body slowly began to dissolve, changing to smoke. The smoke wavered in the air; two eyes could be seen, fixed in malevolent fury on Kaug. A simple gesture from the ‘efreet caused the lamp to suck the smoke out of the air, and Sond was gone.

“And what is your will concerning me, My Master?” Pukah asked humbly, bowing low, his hands pressed against his forehead.

“Return to your dwelling. Remain there until I call for you,” Kaug said absently, preoccupied with his thoughts. “I am going to pay my homage to Quar.”

“A safe and pleasant journey, Master,” said Pukah. Bowing his way across the floor, the djinn retired precipitously to his basket.

“Ugggh,” grunted Kaug, heaving his bulk up out of the chair.

“Ugggh,” Pukah mimicked, his ears attuned to ascertain the ‘efreet’s departure. “One of his more intelligent noises. The great oaf! Pukah, my friend, you’ve fooled him completely. He has neglected to confine you to your dwelling, and while he is gone, you may leave it to search for your lost angel.”

Materializing inside his basket, Pukah found it in a state of general disarray—the furniture overturned, crockery smashed, food scattered about. Having previously shared his dwelling with a snake, who had not been very neat in his personal habits, the djinn was accustomed to a certain amount of slovenliness. Ignoring the mess, Pukah set the bed to rights, then lay down on it and waited, listening intently, to make certain the ‘efreet had really gone and that this wasn’t some sort of lamebrained trick to trap him.

Hearing nothing, Pukah was just about to leave his basket and go search the cave when he was nearly suffocated by a flurry of feathers. Silver hair obscured his vision and a warm, soft body hurled itself into his arms.

“Oh, Pukah!” Asrial cried, clutching at him frantically. “My poor Mathew! I have to find him! You must help me escape!”