Djinnx'd (The Tamar Black Saga #1)

by Nicola Rhodes

  ‘Of course, I was just wondering where we go from here.’ He was gazing distractedly at the doors that surrounded them.

  ‘Oh – well, anyway, I was never so glad to see anyone in my whole life as when I saw you.’

  ‘You could have fooled me.’

  ‘Oh, yes, well. You were laughing at me. How did you find me anyway, where were you?’

  Denny told her what had happened to him.

  ‘It took me ages to find the right door,’ he finished. ‘And now, I’m wondering which door our sorceress is hiding behind, if any.’

  * * *

  When Denny had found her, Tamar had been perilously close to falling, although she had not been aware of it. The thread above her was just about ready to snap. Denny had not wasted any time. Since he was not actually carrying a length of rope in his pockets, their supply of convenient coincidences having apparently run out for the time being, he had to improvise. Keeping the tone light, so as not to alarm her, he had suggested, casually that she might try swinging toward him, while praying that the thread did not snap under the pressure. He carefully did not mention this concern to Tamar, but instead made jokes about how Lara Croft never found herself in situations like this. He then kept her occupied by explaining who Lara Croft actually was. By the time she understood, and had voiced the opinion that she sounded like a truly awful fabrication, Tamar had managed to swing herself more or less into Denny’s waiting grasp. It was the “less” part that almost caused the fatality when the thread finally gave up and snapped. Fortunately, due to the elasticity of the threads, she was bouncing slightly as she swung; just enough to throw her clear of the chasm and land her with a thump on top of Denny, in a classic comedy finish.

  They were now both feeling bruised and tired. But, whereas Denny was also feeling disgruntled, Tamar was exuberant.

  ‘Well,’ she said now, ‘what kind of negative attitude is that? Of course, she’s behind one of them. She has to be. I thought you said this room led everywhere in this place.’

  ‘In theory,’ Denny corrected her. ‘Only in theory. I mean I don’t really know, do I?

  ‘Oh,’ Tamar was briefly subdued by this information. ‘Well, never mind,’ she brightened up. ‘We should just pick a door and see where it takes us. Get back in the game, so to speak, don’t you think?’

  ‘Hmm,’ Denny was dubious. ‘I think that might be a bit dangerous, and will you please stop dancing around like a mad pixie, I’m trying to think.’

  ‘Oh don’t be so grumpy; what’s the matter with you?’

  Denny debated telling her about seeing her lying cold and still in the “Mirror of Futures”. It was preying on his mind.

  ‘Nothing,’ he said, eventually. I just want to get this over with.’ There was no point worrying her, he decided.

  ‘Is it something you saw in that mirror?’ she said, shrewdly.

  ‘No, no, nothing like that,’ he lied.

  Fortunately, at that moment, Tamar was distracted. ‘Look at that,’ she said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘That door, there,’ she pointed. ‘Is it me, or does it look different from the others?’

  Denny peered. ‘You, know, I think you’re right,’ he said, after a minute.

  The difference was subtle; the door just looked slightly larger and deeper set than the others. Somehow, perhaps because it was deeper in shadow than the others, it looked more sinister than the others, more dreadful in some undefined but yet definite way. The more they looked at it, the more certain they became that it was different from the other doors in the room. That it hid something significant. Or someone. They looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

  Tamar voiced the thought. ‘In there, then?’

  ‘After you,’ said Denny, and this time he meant it.

  ~ Chapter Twenty Seven ~

  They found themselves in a plush study. There was a monumental fireplace with a fire blazing away like a small sun, miles and miles of bookshelves, two leather sofas and a large imposing desk, behind which sat a large, imposing man in a dark suit, backlit by a vast, striking window.

  ‘Well done,’ he said, standing up. ‘I hardly expected you to get this far – Guards.’ He snapped his fingers. Denny spun round and found himself face to face with five more men. These were dressed in black pyjamas and hoods and were wielding large swords.

  ‘Ninjas?’ he said.

  ‘Appropriate I thought,’ said the man. ‘Kill them,’ he added to the guards.

  He addressed himself to Tamar. ‘I’m afraid, my dear that as you will have already discovered, your magic is of no use to you here. You’ll have to rely on him.’ He threw a contemptuous glance at Denny.

  Often, when you are dreaming, you will find yourself doing things that you would normally never even contemplate. What happened next, Denny later said, was a bit like that.

  Denny, mysteriously enough, was grinning. ‘You have to feel sorry for them really,’ he said, twisting the sword out of the hand of the nearest “ninja” and kicking him out of the way with surprising dexterity.

  ‘I mean, the odds are against them, aren’t they?’

  ‘Are you out of your mind?’ screeched Tamar. ‘Or didn’t you ever learn to count? There’s five of them.’

  ‘Four,’ said Denny, nodding briefly at the one who was whimpering on the floor.

  He spun the sword. ‘Anyway, that’s what I mean. Come on, five trained guards attack one unarmed man. They’re gonna get creamed, everybody knows that.’

  The guards were hanging back uncertainly. ‘Am I right boys?’ He nodded to them.

  They looked at each other nervously, as if they did indeed know this to be true. Two of them dropped their sword arms.

  ‘I bet no one ever asked them if they wanted to – did they boys?’

  They shook their heads vehemently.

  ‘Still, you haven’t really got a choice, have you? So come on guys, let’s dance.’ He thrust out the sword, fighting stance. Two of the guards moved tentatively towards him.

  ‘Three – two – one,’ muttered Denny under his breath.

  ‘KILL HIM,’ shouted the man.

  ‘Ah,’ said Denny, ‘there it is.’

  ‘He’s just one weedy boy. What are you good for? He’s just trying to confuse you.’

  The “ninjas” charged.

  ‘Uh oh,’ said Tamar and averted her face.

  ‘That’s,’ (thrust) ‘the,’ (parry) ‘point,’ said Denny, dispatching the first one with a well-placed thrust under the ribs.

  ‘One.’ He moved into position, to take on the next one.

  ‘The,’ (slice) ‘weedier the,’ (kick) ‘better.’ He sent the sword whirling out of the hand of the second one, and moved like greased lightning around to face the other two.

  ‘Had enough yet?’ he taunted. He was not even out of breath.

  Tamar was staring now, open-mouthed. The guards submitted to the inevitable and charged. Denny somersaulted gracefully over their heads. As he rolled, he picked up the discarded sword and bounced to his feet. He advanced on the guards twirling a sword in each hand, wearing the kind of smile usually seen beneath a fin slicing through the water.

  The guards did not move a muscle; behind Denny, “ninja” two was up again. He aimed a slash at Denny’s head, which Denny parried, behind his back without even looking round. “Ninja” two dropped the sword wringing his hand, Denny thrust backward in a smooth motion, keeping his eyes on “ninjas” three and four. “Ninja” two dropped to the floor making bubbling noises.

  ‘Two,’ said Denny. ‘Feeling lucky?’

  “Ninja” three sliced at his legs, he jumped, and the sword passed harmlessly under his feet. “Ninja” four thrust at him, and he turned the jump into a backward somersault.

  Tamar had a childish urge to catcall, ‘Nyah nah nah nyah nah.’

  Denny spun and sliced at “ninja” three, who was coming at him from the
side and took his head off. He came out of the spin pointing the sword at “ninja” fours throat, “ninja” four raised his sword just as Tamar brought a vase crashing down on his head; he slumped. “Ninja” five, the first to go down, stirred and Tamar kicked him in the head.

  Denny smiled; Tamar shrugged ruefully. ‘I thought it was about time I did something.’

  The man behind the desk was clapping slowly in his best sarcastic manner. ‘Well done,’ he drawled.

  Denny dropped the sword with a clatter, and shook his hand as if there was something sticky on it. He had gone a little pale.

  Tamar turned on the man behind the desk. ‘You’re not Kelon. We ...’

  ‘No,’ said the man. ‘I am just the – ahem welcoming party you might say.’

  ‘You might,’ agreed Denny, ‘if English wasn’t your first language.’ He turned to Tamar. ‘Do you get the feeling this Kelon character’s not too keen on visitors? I wonder if everybody has to go through this?’

  ‘Somehow I doubt it,’ she replied dryly.

  ‘You are correct,’ said the man. ‘You may not see Kelon.’

  ‘The hell you say,’ exploded Denny. ‘Who’s going to stop us? – You?’ He picked up the discarded sword and waved it threateningly.

  ‘Yeah,’ Tamar joined in. ‘We didn’t go through all this just to turn round and go home. Thanks for a pleasant visit and all that.’

  The man appeared to consider. After all, a man with a sword is a man with a sword, and this one had just polished off five of his best trained guards. There was probably some destiny at work here. In any case, sometimes you just had to say ‘I don’t get paid enough for this stuff.’

  He shrugged. ‘That way,’ he said, pointing to a door off to the left of him. ‘Third door on the right – go through the magic mirror.’ Denny lowered the sword. ‘That’s more like it.’

  * * *

  ‘How did you do that?’ asked Tamar, as they made their way down a corridor that was dimly lit with candles.

  ‘The fighting, you mean?’

  ‘Obviously.’

  ‘I don’t know, it just seemed to happen. I just knew I could do it; it was like I was following a script.’

  ‘So, no fencing lessons aged twelve that you forgot to mention?’

  ‘Who, me? You forget I’m a nerd. Not to mention a tremendous physical coward.’

  ‘You haven’t been afraid once since we got here.’

  Denny pondered. ‘You know, you’re right. It’s like I’m a different person in here.’

  ‘Well I for one am glad of it. I didn’t realise how much I’d come to rely on my magic. I guess I never thought I’d have to do without it. I’m not making a very good show am I?’

  ‘You’re doing okay. You got me away from the Houris, and you survived the scorpion pit.’

  ‘Just barely, and only thanks to you in the end.

  ‘You did really well to get as far as you did, in there.’

  ‘You’re still you after all,’ she said, ‘kind.’ And she gave him a smile that was almost shy.

  He blushed. ‘Er, okay. Tamar?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why did you bring that with you?’

  ‘What, this?’ Tamar said demurely, glancing at the sword that Denny had left behind. She had gone back for it at the last minute.

  ‘I just thought it might come in handy.’

  ‘You know how to sword fight?’

  ‘No, but you apparently do.’

  ‘I don’t think…’ they both turned as they heard the sound of many running feet behind them. ‘Oh damn it’

  ‘That swine!’ screeched Tamar. ‘He’s sent more of them after us.’ She tossed the sword to Denny. ‘One for you, I think.’

  This time there were about ten of them, and they did not seem too keen to approach. They stopped short about ten feet away from Denny’s swinging sword. It soon became apparent why. This time, they were going for a different approach. Without warning one of them hurled a throwing star at Denny. The twist was that it caught fire in the air. Denny fielded it with the sword and it hurtled back toward the guards. One of them, not the one who had thrown it, caught it. He caught it, unfortunately for him, full in the chest. After letting out a thin wail, he unexpectedly exploded.

  ‘One down,’ muttered Tamar.

  ‘Here we go again,’ sighed Denny. ‘Look out, it’s about to get worse.’

  He was right. The remaining guards all took aim. Denny backed away, but there was nowhere to go. The guards seemed to have an unlimited supply of the damn things which all burst into flame when they hit a certain velocity. Suddenly the air was filled with blazing throwing stars. Denny raised the sword and swung. He fielded every one, despite the fact that this was patently impossible, and sent them back at the guards with pinpoint accuracy. Each time he hit one, the poor guy immediately exploded. Every time this happened, the remaining men howled with rage and redoubled their attack. And there were more, coming up behind them, as Denny could dimly see through the smoke.

  The sword was moving so fast now; it was little more than a blur. Right up until the moment that it was moving so fast that it too, caught fire. Evidently it shared this facility with the other weapons that the guards used, although, Denny was not to figure this out until later. He never even flinched.

  ‘Now that’s what I’m talking about,’ he shouted triumphantly, and whacked another flaming missile, which exploded as it hit the sword in a huge ball of flame. ‘Oops.’

  Denny considered his options for a thirtieth of a second; then he held the flaming sword out in front of him, and charged through the smoking acrid air.

  The guards took one look at him and ran.

  ‘See,’ said Tamar smugly.

  * * *

  The sword went out, and Denny dropped it.

  ‘We should keep that,’ Tamar said. ‘A flaming sword, what couldn’t we do with that?’

  Denny considered arguing, but found that he could not be bothered. Anyway, she had a point. She had been right to bring it along in the first place after all.

  ‘Okay,’ he said, handing her the now extinguished sword. ‘But you can carry it.’

  ‘Okay.’ Tamar looked pleased. ‘I wonder what makes it do that.’

  ‘I’ve no idea, does it matter?’

  ‘Well, I think it’s brilliant.’

  ‘I gathered,’ Denny responded dryly.

  ‘We look like a witch’s coven,’ giggled Tamar suddenly, apropos of nothing. ‘You look like a devil looming through the smoke.

  ‘Devil yourself,’ said Denny amiably, ruffling her hair. ‘Come on you, the door’s that way, I think.’

  ‘Denny?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You do know that your hair is on fire?’

  * * *

  ‘It’s in here,’ said Denny. They pushed open the door; the room beyond was bare except for a full-length mirror in a gilt frame fastened to the wall and two flickering candles in sconces on either side of it.

  ‘More magic mirrors,’ said Tamar. ‘Wicked Queen complex, do you think? I’m beginning to feel like Snow White.’

  ‘So, who does that make me?’

  ‘Dunno, is there a dwarf called Scruffy?’

  ‘And they do seem to go in for the flickering candles here don’t they?’ said Denny, ignoring this. ‘They seem to prefer them to putting in windows. Who lives here for God’s sake – Dracula?’

  ‘Well, this is it,’ she said. ‘Finally!’

  They grasped hands and stepped forward. A trapdoor in the floor opened up beneath them, and they went shooting down a tunnel and landed on a heap of straw in what appeared to be a dungeon.

  ‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ wailed Denny.

  ~ Chapter Twenty Eight ~

  ‘Where’s the old man?’ asked Denny after scanning their prison.

  ‘What old man?’ asked Tamar, perplexed.

  ‘
The one who’s been down here for decades, patiently digging his way to freedom with a soup spoon. And now, because he’s on his last legs he hands on his spoon to us – along with the treasure map.’

  ‘Oh, that old man. I don’t think there is one.’

  ‘There’s always an old man in a dungeon. It’s in the brochure.’

  ‘I think we’re on our own this time.’

  ‘When aren’t we?’

  The heap of straw stirred. ‘Ooof,’ it said.

  Denny and Tamar jumped up, and out of the straw struggled an old man with a straggly beard dressed in rags. He was wheezing hard.

  ‘What do you mean by it?’ he complained, ‘landing on me like a herd of buffalo. I was asleep.’

  ‘I’ll be damned,’ said Denny.

  ‘Language,’ snapped the old man.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Denny. ‘Um, you haven’t, by any chance, been digging a tunnel out of here for the last thirty years or so, have you?’

  ‘Tunnel?’ said the old man. ‘No, why would I dig a tunnel?’ His eyes were twinkling.

  ‘Figures,’ said Denny gloomily.

  ‘What do I need a tunnel for?’ continued the old man, ‘when I can use the door?’

  ‘Door?’ said Denny and Tamar together. Two pairs of eyes scanned the walls fruitlessly – there was no door.

  ‘Mad!’ said Tamar. ‘Poor old thing. Being down here, it’s turned his mind.’

  ‘Mad, am I?’ snapped the old man.

  ‘Nothing wrong with his hearing anyway.’ said Denny, ‘Pardon us,’ he added, ‘but what door?’

  ‘What?’ said the old man, cupping his hand behind his ear, ‘speak up.’

  He laughed at Denny’s exasperated expression. ‘Ah, I’m jest funnin’ with ye.’ He said. ‘I’m no’ sure I wants to tell ye. Ev’ry time ah shows people the door, they nev’r comes back. It gits lonely down here.’

  ‘We have something important we have to do,’ said Denny. ‘How would it be if we promise to come back and visit you? Would you show us the door then?’

  ‘You won’t,’ said the old man stubbornly. ‘They always says that, but they nev’r comes back – no nev’r.’ He looked at them out of rheumy eyes.

  Tamar pulled Denny to her. ‘Why are you humouring him?’ she whispered. ‘If there was a door, why would he still be here? It’s ridiculous; he’s obviously crackers.’