I Dream of Genies, page 20
As for her figure, wel , he was no connoisseur of human anatomy, but having lived among them for more than a few centuries, he’d say this one wasn’t a candi-date for the bikini-wearing crowd.
“Your presence will be required at The Cave of Great Unknown at sunrise tomorrow.”
Great. Sunrise tomorrow he planned to be dozing on Mat ‘s hearth with a pinch of catnip and some tasty beluga caviar. “There might be a problem with that, Carnac.”
The gypsy’s lips twitched, then she scowled. “Your frivolity is neither wanted nor appreciated. This is no laughing matter. It is decreed that you will present yourself at The Cave of Great Unknown tomorrow morning, say the ma—”
“Please don’t say ‘magic words.’”
“—gic words, and you will enter The Cave. Or your mission will fail.”
Obo banged his head on the table. The mission will fail.
Great. Just friggin‘ great. “And these magic words are?”
“Do you really need to ask?”
“Are you kidding me? Seriously?”
“How do you think mortals learned them? Conjured them out of thin air? Why not ‘Open Poppy’ or ‘Open Fennel’? No, sadly, a djinni shared ‘Open Sesame’ and the world hasn’t been the same since. Remember that whole Free Will debate among the gods and nonhumans two millennia ago?”
Obo flicked his tail. Old news. Someone said something about something, and whatever. A volcano blew its top, thousands went into the Light, all while he’d been happily ensconced in a Greek palace, out of harm’s way.
Where he wouldn’t mind being right now.
But, nooooooo. He’d decided to be noble. “Okay, so what am I supposed to do?”
“Why else do felines go to The Cave? You will know when you see it.”
Great. Clear as mud. Just what he didn’t need. Al -
knowing beings who chose secrecy real y ticked him off.
At least it wasn’t al egory. He hated those damned puzzles.
Of course, he also hated not knowing what he was getting into. But at least he had the amulet.
Obo ran a paw over the bag—you never knew what sleight-of-hand a gypsy could get up to—then hopped off the chair.
“Thanks for clarifying. I’ll be at The Cave tomorrow at the appointed hour. Until then, I’ve got a goddess to see.” The cat goddess would give him his final instructions. And if they clashed with the gypsy’s, wel , hey.
He’d be out of here before the old hag knew he’d gone.
The gypsy stood up, the gold bangles on her wrists and ears clinking like church bel s. Probably stolen from a church, too. “You’re on your way to Bastet? Why didn’t you say so?”
Obo looked over his shoulder. “I wasn’t aware I had to clear my travel arrangements with you.”
The gypsy clapped her hands—man-hands if Obo ever saw ‘em. You’d think the woman would do something to make herself a little more attractive if she was capable of foreseeing the future, or whatever it was she claimed to be able to do, but apparently there was no accounting for taste—and vanity. Or the lack thereof.
But at least she’d opened the gate.
“You think you’re going to make it through that doorway, Obo?”
The gypsy was no bet er-looking when she smiled.
The High Master was better-looking. Well, almost. Obo would even venture to say they could be twins. “Now that you opened the gate, I plan to.”
“Might be tough with that huge rock on your shoulder.”
Rock? What rock? Obo sped through the door, un-willing to give her the chance to close it on him again.
He didn’t have a rock on his shoulder. Besides, the saying was chip on the shoulder—
Hell. The gypsy really did know him.
Obo turned around, but she disappeared in a cloud of blue smoke before he could say anything. What was with all the blue?
Wait a minute. Could it—? Was she—?
Nah. It wasn’t possible. Even with all the blue. The High Master never came among the people. Especially not to talk to a cat. And dressed like a woman? He’d never hear the end of it. While cross-dressing was earning acceptance, or at least tolerance, in the outside world, inside Al-Jannah, Obo couldn’t see that one flying. Which said a lot, because pret y much anything flew in Al-Jannah. Carpets, footstools, pirate ships—but not cross-dressing High Master genies.
Right?
Chapter
Matt didn’t like the looks of the park.
It wasn’t that it was dark and dangerous, with trees too thick to see between or vegetation growing tal er than a man’s head. No, the only trees were the twisted, Whoville-ish cork trees that lined the northern horizon, and the rest was manicured and well cared for. Groves were strategical y placed among perfectly landscaped gardens whose profusion of colors were definitely man—or, in this case, genie—made. Fountains, pergolas, and paths were tiled in the Mudéjar style. The place looked like the Garden of Eden.
That’s what worried him. Paradise had harbored a serpent, and, from the way his Eden was acting, this place did, too. If the magical being they’d find here was enough to scare her, he wanted no part of it.
“So what’s this thing called that we have to keep an eye out for?” He could have sworn the arched stone bridge moved as they crossed it. Expanded or something. A ridiculous idea in any other circumstances, but given that they were in the genie equivalent of Oz, who the hell knew.
Case in point: the river the bridge spanned was so blue it was almost purple. And the grass on the other side so green it was almost neon.
“The Hadhayosh.” Eden stopped at the end of the bridge, her shoulder brushing his arm. “A terrible beast, like a bull, but bigger. It guards the forest from intruders and is capable of hunting us down before we find what we came for.”
“Then why are we looking out for it? If we stand stil , it’ll find us.”
“Now isn’t the time for jokes, Mat . Concentrate.
You’ll feel it coming.“
“Feel?”
She nodded—which he did feel since she was plastered to his side. Normally that wouldn’t be something to complain about, but there was that fear thing.
Matt cleared his throat. Fear was not an option.
Not if they wanted to get out of here with their lives.
And the djinn’s eggs—that name alone was enough to worry him since it sounded like a cloning experiment gone bad.
Hell, this whole thing worried him. Faruq, a deadly beast, not knowing what to expect. He hated that he wasn’t the one cal ing the shots. Ever since his father died, he’d worked hard to be in control of his life. Yet here he was, having to rely on and trust someone else.
Frustration was a mild term for what he felt.
“How long is that peacock going to be able to keep Faruq busy, Eden? We’re going to need every break we can get.”
“I’m counting on Faruq’s aspirations to do that trick. He should wait around for the High Master for a long time.”
The “I hope” she added at the end of that statement didn’t make Matt feel better. The only thing that would, would be sit ing in his living room with a beer in one hand, the remote in the other, a footbal game on the high-def, and this whole thing one big, nightmarish memory. Except for Eden, of course.
Mat took a deep breath. “Okay. So we go straight.
Into the middle of the park.“
She nodded.
“Where we’ll find a small pyramid and, on top of it, the djinn’s eggs.”
“Yes.”
“But this hottie thing—”
“Hadhayosh.”
“Right. This Hadhayosh is going to try to prevent us from getting it.”
“Right.”
Matt patted his jacket pocket, checking on the bottle.
“So how do we beat it at its own game? We don’t have any weapons and neither of us is dressed for a marathon.”
“We’ll beat it, Matt. Trust me.”
Trust her. The thing was…
He did. He trusted her to get them through this. He might even trust her with a bit more.
And if that wasn’t a huge leap of faith for him, he didn’t know what was.
Eden stepped off the bridge as the structure sighed again. She was surprised Matt hadn’t commented on the way it arched up then returned to its original form, but then, this wasn’t exactly a sightseeing trip.
Pity it wasn’t. The park could be visited via guided tours, with both the Hadhayosh and the Mandragora under magical lock and key, of course. She’d been here on a class field trip and they’d studied the dangers before coming. The Hadhayosh liked riddles; answer them correctly, you live. Screw up, you die.
No pressure.
But she’d always been good with riddles—bet er than she’d be at outrunning Faruq on his home turf with her Glimmer leaving a trail of catch-me-if-you-can. Since she and Mat couldn’t get to the crystals without the Mandragora, and they couldn’t get the Mandragora without get ing by the Hadhayosh, there wasn’t much choice.
Math hadn’t been her strongest suit, but she could figure that one plus one plus one equaled the rest of her life.
The blue, green, and orange tiled path led into an orange grove flowering with yel ow buds bordered by gardenias with an almost overpowering aroma. Too bad nothing could mask her and Mat ‘s scent from the beast’s powerful sense of smel —a trait that made it the perfect guardian for the Mandragora. No sense letting just anyone get to the plant; constantly changing Glimmer would wreak havoc in their world.
Exactly Eden’s intention.
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t think we had a shot, Matt. The Hadhayosh won’t kill us without first giving us a chance to get by him.”
“Nice guy.”
The corners of her mouth inched up at the sarcasm.
She loved that he was here with her. He didn’t need to be, he certainly shouldn’t be, but here he was.
But he won’t always be, Eden. Remember that. Geniesand mortals don’t do happily-ever-after. Especially the ever part.
She knew that firsthand and it always came back to that. “Come on. Let’s go.”
The path wended through exquisite gardens of plants and flowers from all over the world. Pale peach English tea roses next to purple wisteria from Japan, the prim and proper observer counterbalanced by the untamed in-vader. Lemon-yellow Missouri primrose enveloping the exotic South Pacific orange-and-yel ow bird-of-paradise spikes. Virginal bells of lily-of-the-valley dangling beneath the prominent blue trumpets of the lily-of-the-Nile. The profusion of colors and shapes, and the hummingbirds and butterflies darting between the gardens, were enough to make Eden want to forget about finding her freedom and live here among the beauty and tran-quility for the rest of her life, where she’d be of Service to no one.
And where she’d have no one.
For now, though, she had Mat . And, for now, that would have to be enough.
When his arm snaked around her waist, Eden leaned into him and inhaled the scent that was solely his. His arm tightened, the muscles of his chest rippling against her back and the hand flexing on her hip doing delicious swirly things to her insides.
It’d been so long since she’d felt desire like this, and too long since someone had felt it for her. When his hand moved slightly, igniting another series of fires, her knees trembled.
“What was that?” Matt tensed and Eden realized her knees weren’t trembling just because of him. She’d been so busy daydreaming, she hadn’t recognized the first sign of the Hadhayosh.
With the feeling in her stomach no longer delicious, but definitely swirly—the sick and worried kind—Eden concentrated on the ground, studying the one small line of horizon that wasn’t covered in pink creeping phlox, and tried to remember her Mythical Beasts course. The term was a misnomer because the beasts were as far from mythical as genies themselves.
Courage. Fortitude. Knowledge. Intuition. The four items necessary to defeat the Hadhayosh.
All of which were sorely tested when she felt another tremor.
But she had to defeat it, had to show no fear. So, as much as she hated doing so, she stepped out of Matt’s embrace because, in his arms, she wasn’t able to think straight.
The ground shuddered again, then split open at their feet. A giant rock rose from the gash as the Hadhayosh thundered into the clearing from a grove of crooked cork trees. Its head was as big as the front of Mat ‘s truck, horns thick and curved. With a mahogany coat as smooth as a mink’s and as long as a yak’s, massive shoulders tapering to powerful hind quarters, sharp silver hooves on thick, sturdy legs, the animal’s presence alone could strike fear into anyone’s heart. But it was either face him or eternal Servitude to Faruq.
For Eden, there was no choice.
So when Mat shifted his weight, she elbowed him in the ribs. Civility was highly prized among mytho-logical beasts, and she didn’t want Mat doing anything stupid. Well, not stupid. Instinctual. Like run. But fight-or- flight wasn’t an option, only outwitting the Hadhayosh was.
“Who goes there?” The air rat led with the beast’s deep voice, the words, thankful y, in English. A somewhat upper-crust, polite, correct form of the language, but at least it wasn’t Persian. Her Persian was a lit le rusty.
“No one goes here,” she said, answering the first test correctly. That one was always an opponent-killer. The older girls in her dorm in Al-Jannah had liked to scare the new kids with Hadhayosh stories; she’d heard it enough times to remember the correct answer.
Too bad none of the survivors had known al the beast’s riddles. Everyone’s stories were different, so she and Matt were on their own.
The Hadhayosh shook its massive head. “Very good.
You have answered correctly, but, to continue, you must answer the real question. Correct, you pass; incorrect, you die. Simple.“
“Are you sure we can do this, Eden?” Mat whispered.
It was the we that got to her and filled her heart.
“Sssh,” she whispered back, turning just enough to meet his gaze. Flecks of brown dot ed his gray-green eyes, not the mossy green color she’d come to love.
The heavens—and Hadhayosh— willing, she’d see that color again. “We don’t have a choice, Mat . If we run, it’l kil us, and if we answer incorrectly, it’l kill us. So whatever you do, don’t say anything except the answer, okay?”
Mat searched her eyes for a long, tense moment, then she felt his weight sink back onto his heels. “Okay.
I trust that you know what you’re doing.“
One of them did, at least.
She faced the beast and squared her shoulders.
“We’re ready.”
The creature lowered his lashes, snorted, then lifted them again. His eyes, which had been as brown as his hide before, now glowed orange. “What has a mouth but cannot chew?”
Matt squeezed her shoulder and bent down to whisper in her ear. “Don’t answer that. Something’s not right. The answer is a river, but it’s too easy. It has to be a trick.”
“Of course it is. Djinn’s eggs are too important for it not to be.”
“Then why—”
“I expected tricks, Mat . But we can do this. Trust me.” She smiled when he squeezed her shoulder. Smiled even more when he whispered, “I do trust you, Eden.”
Straightening her spine, she faced the beast. “A river.”
The Hadhayosh snorted and waggled his head, the massive mound of muscle behind it swaying the opposite way in counterbalance. “You may pass.”
With an earth-trembling groan, the massive rock slid back into the ground, the landscape behind it no longer a green meadow but a dense grove of willow trees.
Mat grabbed her hand and wasted no time running into the grove, not stopping until they could no longer see out the side they came in from. Or the Hadhayosh.
“So is that it? Or is he coming back?” Mat wiped some sweat off his forehead when they final y stopped running.
“He’l be back. We just can’t tel when. Everyone who’s done this”—and lived to tell the tale—“has a different story.”
“Great. That’s the trick part.” He slicked his hair back. “This sucks.”
“I know. We need to keep our eyes open.” A white dove swooped over her head. She loved doves. Except when they were in Faruq’s tent when she was in Faruq’s tent.
Mat brushed something off her forehead. “I don’t get why these djinn’s eggs are here at al . Changing Glimmer sounds like trouble. Why does a way to do it even exist?”
Eden shrugged. “I don’t claim to understand why the High Master does what he does. No one can. Not even Faruq, though he tries to. I’m just glad we have the opportunity.”
“Speaking of the dic—of Faruq, we need to get those bracelets off you. Do you think he’s figured out that you’re gone yet?”
“I hope not. I can’t see him giving up on the chance to curry the High Master’s favor. Not until it’s too obvious.”
“Good. Then we’ve got some time.” Matt raised her hand, and, heightened as her senses were, she felt his touch al the way to her curling-slipper-clad toes. And his eyes were mossy green.
Did they have time for something else?
His fingers slid over her palm and Eden wanted to make the time.
Mat cleared his throat and fiddled with the prongs around a yel ow diamond the size of a canary’s egg.
“This is in too tightly. I’ll need a knife or something to pry the stone out.” He released her hand. “Damn. I hate leaving them on you.”
“I think we’ll be okay for a little longer. Faruq’s too ambitious to give up if he thinks the High Master wants to see him.”
“But what’s to prevent this High Master from telling him he hadn’t summoned him? Why wouldn’t he have done that already?”
“The High Master’s preparing for the blue moon,
Matt. It’s a special event for genies, especially the High Master. He won’t be interrupted for anything short of a ful breach of Al-Jannah’s wal s. Faruq wil wait because he’ll think it’s important.“
