The Djinn Garden

by Stephen Goldin

  ***

  The crew of Hauvarta’s Shield readied a pair of boats to take a party ashore in search of water and the missing Jann. Despite the danger the island represented, everyone wanted to go—in part because they wanted to be on land again after the buffeting the storm had caused, and in part because they genuinely wanted to look for the young djinn who’d helped them. The boats were small, though, and the landing parties would have to be limited.

  Since their primary purpose here was to replenish their water supply, one of the boats would be dedicated specifically to that task. The boat would hold one of the ship’s big water barrels and five crewmen. When the barrel was filled on the island it would take all five men to carry it back to the boat and lift it in. This boat would have to make three round trips, one for each water barrel, before Hauvarta’s Shield was fully restocked.

  The other boat would carry the search and rescue party. Jafar would go, of course, since he was the magic wielder of the group and Cari was his servant. The amulet he’d taken from the dead yatu Kharouf in Buryan protected him from harm by magic and made him feel a little more secure in his position. Remembering he was still mortal, however, he took his sword as well.

  Prince Ahmad would go on the expedition, too. Jafar al–Sharif was glad to know he could count on the young man’s strong right arm and unquestioned ability with a sword to get them out of situations where his native wits and glib tongue might not be quick enough.

  Selima asked to be included in the party, and after a moment’s pause the others agreed. She had faded from the world so greatly that one had to stare to see her at all, and strain to hear her voice; as insubstantial as she was, she would take up no extra room in the boat, and no danger on the island could harm her further. She and Cari had grown rather close on this journey, almost like sisters—and Selima’s quick wit had proved invaluable to them before. She would make a worthy addition to the group.

  El–Hadar, too, insisted on going. As great as he knew the danger to be, he was also responsible, as captain, for the safety of his passengers. Besides, he’d had much experience with strange islands in the Central Sea, and hoped to draw on that if an emergency should arise.

  Verethran the enchanted monkey also insisted on volunteering, and he seemed to be a logical choice. He was small, agile, and cunning; he could go places and examine things none of the rest could manage. His loyalties to them were beyond reproach, and his cleverness and courage had been proven against the rimahniya back in Attan.

  They had thought that would complete the party, but then Leila demanded to be included. This was a little surprising, since Jafar knew there was little warmth between Leila and Cari, but Leila tried to put him at ease. “Whatever grudge your Jann holds against me, I feel none towards her,” she explained. “She is a companion in trouble—and if this island is as dangerous as our captain seems to think, you may have need of my special talents there.”

  “Your beauty is unquestioned, O lady of the strange yellow hair,” said El–Hadar, “but what other singular talents do you possess that would help us in this situation?”

  “My mother was a minor practitioner of the magical arts, and I was born with the ability to see past illusion, no matter how complex its presentation. While I cannot always guess the truth, I can always spot the false—and that can take us a long way toward enlightenment.”

  “There were many times when such a talent would have spared El–Hadar much grief,” the captain said with a nod. “This certainly is one to accompany us on our exploration.” With that endorsement, there could be no further discussion of the matter.

  Umar bin Ibrahim was to be the only member of the prince’s group who would not be going on the search party. In part he was disappointed at being unable to help the colleague who’d done so much on their behalf, but in part he was also relieved. As old as he was, he was taking longer than Leila to recover from the rimahniya poison, and he was still too weak to be of much help in any physical crisis.

  Prince Ahmad placed his arm around his mentor’s shoulders, taking him aside and speaking in gentle, kindly tones. “Your talents will serve us just as well from here, O beloved teacher. If the danger is as great as we fear, we will certainly need some expert intercession with Oromasd on our behalf. You must pray, too, for the fragile soul of Cari; as she is of the righteous Jann, and has helped us so often on our mission, she deserves Oromasd’s special attention.”

  With the groups thus decided, the two boats were lowered over the side and started off toward the island. The boat going after the water would head straight for the spot on shore nearest the cliffs, visible from the ship, where Cari had said she’d seen a waterfall. With any luck, the water would flow into a stream that approached the shore; the less distance inland the barrel had to be carried, the easier it would be to restock.

  The search party would take a different route, first rowing around the island to see whether there was any sign of habitation or any promising channels to investigate. El–Hadar insisted that no other expeditions be sent out to look for them if they did not return. “If there is some power on the island so great it can destroy us, it will destroy any others who come after us,” he reasoned. “We may be back as early as this evening—but knowing such islands, it could well take us several days. If we’re not back by noon on the third day, set sail and make shift as best you can, for Oromasd will have turned his back on us.”

  El–Hadar, Jafar al–Sharif, and Prince Ahmad all took turns rowing their boat as they went around the island in search of some promising avenue of investigation. The island looked quite innocent in the late afternoon sunshine, the sky above it blue dotted with small white clouds. The white sand of the beach and the green of the lush vegetation beyond it were beautiful and inviting, quiet and still. There appeared no obvious signs of habitation—but the people in the boat didn’t need Leila’s powers of observation to know that picture could not be completely truthful.

  “There!” Prince Ahmad exclaimed suddenly as he pointed to a spot partway up the hill that was the back side of the cliffs.

  The others craned their necks to see what he was indicating. “What did you see?” El–Hadar asked.

  “I’m not sure,” the prince admitted. “It was just a quick glint, and then it was gone. It may only have been the sun glistening on a drop of water, but it looked to me more like a reflection from polished metal.”

  “Then here is where we shall go ashore,” El–Hadar said firmly. “In all our looking so far, there has not been any sign even half so hopeful. Perhaps this clue will give us a start on learning what we must know about this island.”

  They rowed the boat in to shore and dragged it well up onto the beach, tying it to a tree so it would not be drawn out to sea. They started toward the dense jungle, and Verethran the monkey sprang ahead of them, blazing a trail through the brush that they all could follow. With the clever little creature leading the way, they progressed slowly through the dense foliage and started up the hillside. The air was humid and oppressive; even though the calendar said it was late winter, the search party felt hot and sticky. They marched silently uphill, preferring to save their energies for something other than talking.

  At last they came to a break in the jungle and found that their guide, Verethran, had stopped to gape at the spectacle ahead of them. When they caught sight of it, gleaming in the afternoon sunlight, they could only stop and do likewise.

  Near the top of the hill, and recessed slightly into it, was a large castle made entirely of burnished copper. Its highly polished walls glistened with a metallic glint, rising smoothly for several stories above the cleared ground in front of it. A large arched doorway faced the front, and it gaped open invitingly.

  The travelers stood in awe for several minutes before any of them could think to speak. “I wonder where all the copper came from,” Jafar wondered irreverently. “It couldn’t have been mined and smelted on this island.”

  “There is the smell of magic about,”
El–Hadar agreed.

  “This castle is not as it appears,” Leila said quietly.

  “Is it dangerous?” Prince Ahmad asked her.

  “That I cannot say, nor can I discern its true nature. I only know that what appears before us is not as it pretends to be.”

  “Then we are rightly warned,” said the captain. “Though, in truth, El–Hadar would have had his suspicions in any case.”

  Without further hesitation, Prince Ahmad stepped forward and began walking toward the castle, and the others followed resolutely behind him. The grassy hill was steeper than it looked at first glance, and the people in the party were slightly winded as they neared the gateway.

  A man rushed suddenly out of the doorway. Prince Ahmad and El–Hadar both reached instinctively for their swords. “He’s just as he appears to be,” Leila said, and the men relaxed as they saw the man was alone and unarmed. He was dressed in a kaftan of deep wine red and wore a turban of the palest blue silk. He was only in his thirties, to judge by his appearance, and although no one would have called him fat, both his body and face were rounded from years of soft living.

  As he ran he made small shooing motions with his hands, and when he came within range they could hear him speaking in a harsh whisper, “Flee now, as you value your lives. In the name of Oromasd, flee!”

  Prince Ahmad and his comrades stopped in their tracks, uncertain what to make of this apparition who warned them so fearfully. They looked around at one another, and everyone looked to Leila for an interpretation. The tall blond woman just shook her head, unable to make any more sense from it than the rest of them.

  The man from the castle continued his whispered warnings, occasionally looking back over his shoulder as he ran as though expecting some hideous monster to appear in the doorway at any moment. He finally reached the party from the ship and pulled to a halt in front of them. There was an imploring look, and one of fear, in his eyes, as he looked into each of their faces in turn. He opened his mouth several times as though about to speak, but no words came out. Finally, with a look of resignation settling on his features, he made a deep salaam and said, “Welcome to the island of Castabawna, O illustrious voyagers. Allow me to offer you the hospitality of this castle in the name of our lord Oromasd, who bids us treat all strangers with kindness.”

  This form of greeting, at least, was more within the accepted standard of behavior, and Prince Ahmad knew how to respond graciously. “The blessings of Oromasd be upon you, O gracious host, for heeding our lord’s commands so generously. Do we have the honor of addressing the lord of this remarkable castle?”

  The man’s mouth twitched. “No, I am but its chamberlain, Fazil bin Abou. I bear my master’s offer of hospitality, and bid you enter and make yourselves comfortable.”

  “We come about a matter of great urgency. I would speak to your master as soon as possible.”

  Fazil bin Abou shook his head. “My master, I’m afraid, is a recluse and sees no one on any matter. You are welcome to enjoy his hospitality during your stay, but you may not under any circumstances see or speak with him.”

  “What a peculiar host,” El-Hadar commented.

  “Please,” said bin Abou. “My master does not disparage the choices you make for your lives, and requests only that you honor his.”

  “That seems a fair request,” Prince Ahmad said.

  Fazil bin Abou turned and walked uphill across the lawn to the castle gate and the others, after a nod from Leila, followed him. Leila hung to the back of the group, and Jafar al–Sharif joined her to ask her opinion of the situation.

  “Bin Abou seems to be telling the truth, more or less,” she replied. “At least, he’s told us no outright lies that I can pin down, though his statements are all ragged around the edges. He was also telling the truth, though, when he tried to shoo us away; the fear and the warning were genuine enough.”

  Prince Ahmad also overheard her remarks, and nodded. It gave them all cause to think about as they passed through the open portal of the copper castle.

  Despite the warmth of the day, the castle’s interior was as cold as its metal walls. Even in the few places where tapestries had been hung to prevent drafts, a preternatural chill pervaded the air. There was no stone here, no brick, no marble, no alabaster. The high arched ceilings were copper, the walls were copper, even the floor was copper, polished so smooth and bright that the visitors had to tread most carefully to keep from slipping. The illusion of infinite reflections was most disquieting, but the colors were flattering to their comlexions—except for Selima, who barely showed up in any reflections. It would seem to take an army of servants to keep the place so spotless and shiny, yet the party from the ship saw no one except their guide as he led them through a maze of long corridors, off of which there seemed to be no rooms.

  It was impossible to be quiet in this castle; the slightest footstep seemed a loud clatter, the lowest whisper reverberated off the bare metal surfaces. Try as they might to be silent, the group sounded like a herd of cattle stampeding through a temple at midnight. If the situation were not so grave and their surroundings not so awesome, it would have seemed comical.

  The maze of corridors finally led to a room, as bin Abou ushered them into a large vaulted dining room where a feast had been spread out before them. Six comfortable pillows had been scattered around a circular sofreh, atop which were dishes heaped with appetizing food.

  After weeks of eating simple meals aboard Hauvarta’s Shield, the visitors found their mouths watering at the sight and aroma of such delectable dishes. Nevertheless, they remembered the stories El–Hadar had told about meals offered by eccentric hosts on unknown islands, and were prepared to forego the experience until Leila, who’d been carefully scrutinizing the array, announced, “Well, it all looks like good, wholesome food to me.” With that endorsement, they took places around the sofreh and put thoughts of poisoning and enchantment out of their minds.

  With their guide also seating himself, they appeared to be one pillow short. Selima bowed to Verethran and yielded what was obviously meant as her seat to him; she sat instead cross–legged on the bare floor beside and slightly behind her father. Bin Abou’s eyes narrowed somewhat at this behavior, but if the thought of sharing his meal with a monkey upset him he hid his feelings well. The others took the monkey’s company so much for granted these days that they thought nothing of what would have seemed a social perversion just scant weeks ago.

  The food was as delicious as it appeared to be, and bin Abou ate as heartily as the rest of them as though to prove there was no danger there. The richness of the feast was almost enough to dull their suspicions of their host—but every time they started to relax, they had but to remember the missing Jann and the mysterious nature of this copper castle to restore them to full vigilance.

  Throughout the meal, bin Abou would occasionally cock his head, as though listening to whispers the others could not hear. He pried his guests with questions about themselves and the nature of their journey. By unspoken consent Jafar al–Sharif became the spokesman for the group, and even he was uncharacteristically closed–mouthed about their origins and destinations. He felt almost as he had that first night in Shahdur Castle when he was making a pretense of wizardly credentials and had to be constantly alert during Akar’s keen inquisition. This strange island that had swallowed Cari did not seem the proper place to discuss their true position.

  Finally as the dinner was ending and the group from the ship could scarce eat so much as another raisin, Jafar had a chance to ask a question of his own. “Is it not true, Fazil bin Abou, that your reclusive master is himself a powerful wizard?”

  Bin Abou went pale, and the fear was back in his eyes. “I beg you not to discuss my master, who has done you no slight.”

  “We seek not to injure him,” Prince Ahmad said smoothly. “It is merely the will of Oromasd that a guest should show proper gratitude for the kindness of his host, and we seek to know our host better that we may thank him
more appropriately.”

  “My master cares not for your thanks, as obedience to Oromasd’s law is its own reward. Seeing that it now grows dark, my master offers you the further hospitality of his castle for the night. He hopes you will not try to make your way through the jungle and out into the sea in the darkness, as there are dangers for the unwary lurking about this island.”

  “We shall accept your master’s gracious hospitality, O chamberlain,” Prince Ahmad said with a bow.

  Fazil bin Abou again led them through a series of corridors from which no rooms branched off, and again the group from the ship thundered along on the cold copper floor. At one point, El–Hadar seemed to slip on the smooth metallic surface and only barely managed to lean against the wall to keep himself upright. He followed the rest of them muttering quietly to himself.

  At last they came to a door, which opened to reveal a suite of six rooms, all lavishly appointed with diaphanous draperies covering the harsh metallic walls. Each room had a comfortable sleeping mattress in one corner and a small flowing fountain in another, plus a personal recessed lavatory to the back. Each room also had a large window at the back wall, covered by a musharabiya, overlooking the jungle through which they had marched earlier that afternoon. The rooms were scented lightly with rosewater, yet nothing could completely mask the metallic, blood-like underscent that pervaded the castle.

  “Here must I leave you, O travelers,” said Fazil bin Abou. “For your own protection, I urge you not to leave these rooms by night, or my master and I will not be liable for the consequences. You shall be perfectly safe here, I so swear by Oromasd’s name and by Athra, guardian of the holy flame. I shall return to you in the morning. May the night bring you peaceful dreams.”

  He turned and went out the door, which closed behind him without being touched. When the travelers examined the wall, they could find no trace of a seam in the metal to indicate where the door had been.

  “It seems we couldn’t leave these rooms even if we wanted to,” Jafar observed. “With no door, there’s no way to leave this room and wander through the castle.”

  “There’s always the windows,” Leila said.

  “Yes,” said Selima. “I could go out the window, go around the castle and come back in the front gate. No danger outside could harm me.”

  Jafar shook his head. “But if the gate is shut, you would be trapped outside. I don’t like that plan.”

  “Let’s not be so hasty to escape,” said the prince. “We came here to unravel the castle’s mystery, not run from it.”

  “Still, a good retreat is half the battle planned,” El–Hadar quoted the old adage.

  “I’m fascinated by our unseen host,” Prince Ahmad said. “Is there, do you think, the possibility that bin Abou is really master of this island?”

  “No,” Leila said firmly. “He’s telling the truth when he speaks of a master. There is someone else here he answers to, though who that may be I have no clue.”

  “Not just someone he answers to, but someone he fears,” the captain said. “El–Hadar has seen that look of terror in men’s eyes too often. He started to warn us away, at first, but the fear overcame him. He was right when he warned us of danger just now, but El–Hadar thinks the danger is not all outside the castle.”

  “And I don’t think anyone can question that our host is a powerful spirit or wizard,” Jafar added. “The fact that this castle exists at all is proof of that—plus a dinner that takes hours to prepare is ready for us on a few minutes’ notice, with just enough places set. Well, perhaps our host isn’t infallible—one of those places was apparently set for Selima, not Verethran, whom our host probably thought was a pet.”

  “Aye, by Anahil’s tits, there is a reek of magic about this place, and it doesn’t take a wizard to spot it,” the captain said. “The walls are too shiny, and there is no army of servants polishing them. El–Hadar did not trip accidentally in the hall; he did it to rub his hands along the surface. His fingers left no smears upon the walls, even though they felt like smooth metal.”

  They walked as a group through the suite of rooms they’d been assigned. The rooms were arranged in a row, one after another, connected with pointed archways; each room had its own small lavatory, and all were identical, down to the designs of the carved wooden musharabiya in the windows. There were exactly enough rooms for each of them, including separate ones for Selima and Verethran the monkey. Their host apparently learned quickly from his mistakes.

  “Definitely the smell of wizardry,” said Jafar al–Sharif, and he was not pleased. Whenever they encountered wizardry, his companions naturally expected him to do something about it. So far Oromasd had favored him; but did he dare expect that situation to continue?

  “El–Hadar recommends we sleep in shifts,” the captain said. “Too many evil deeds are done under cover of night, and if we are all asleep we may remain that way forever.”

  Prince Ahmad agreed that he would take the first watch with El–Hadar, while Jafar and Verethran would take the second, and they would alternate back and forth throughout the night. Though each could have had their own room, Jafar and Leila chose to huddle together in one for physical and spiritual comfort, while the ghostly Selima chose to spend the night with Verethran the monkey, whom she found amusing.

  After less than two hours, loud noises outside the castle broke the night’s stillness. The most unearthly shrieking and wailing assaulted the travelers’ ears, and they rushed to the windows in their rooms to see what was happening outside.

  The castle appeared to be surrounded by an army of giant scorpions, each the size of a house, each with lobster–like claws snapping and deadly stinger poised for the kill. Every so often one of the hideous creatures would lash out at the copper castle, but their stingers and claws could not penetrate the metal walls. Frustrated, the creatures would then turn on one another, waging fierce battles that occasionally ended with one of the combatants lying dead on the ground.

  The travelers all rushed to join the others, and they all met in the center room of the suite. “It seems our host was right,” said Prince Ahmad, “about dangers outside. Perhaps it’s a good thing we are safe inside these walls.”

  “El–Hadar hopes these creatures did not attack his men while they were filling the water barrel,” the captain added. “They are brave men and good fighters, but they could not stand before such monsters and survive.”

  But Leila was smiling. “These scorpions are but an amusing play being staged for a gullible audience of strangers. They’re phantasms. They exist in our eyes and ears, but not in the flesh. They can no more hurt us than our shadows on the wall.”

  “Our host just wants to frighten us, then,” Jafar said.

  “He’s succeeding well,” Selima said.

  “But in what direction?” the prince mused. “Is he trying to frighten us off the island, or frighten us into staying inside the castle? Remember how concerned bin Abou was that we stay safely in our rooms.”

  “We won’t be scared into leaving without learning what happened to Cari,” Selima declared firmly.

  The prince nodded. “Whatever her fate, I would wager it has something to do with this castle. We must explore it more thoroughly.”

  “Not easy to do when the doors have vanished,” Leila pointed out.

  “There are still the windows,” Selima said.

  “I would rather try other avenues first,” Jafar said. “While these scorpions may indeed be illusions, I learned on the Isle of Illusions just how dangerous such things can be. Besides, a yatu capable of conjuring such visions might have other surprises waiting out there in the dark for us.”

  “The wizard is right,” El–Hadar said. “We’ll certainly need all our wits about us if we hope to penetrate the mysteries of this castle, and sleep is the best way to hone them. We will sleep in shifts and continue our vigilance, and hope that in the morning we may find some clue to unravel these riddles.”

  They went back to their rooms
, but sleep was difficult to come by. No matter how illusory the travelers knew them to be, an army of giant scorpions just outside the walls did little to engender a peaceful night’s sleep.