The Genie Rings

by Jack Henseleit

  ‘Hmm, yes, you’re quite right,’ said the Professor. ‘We’d better dress for the occasion.’

  He pulled a pillowcase from his bag and leant over to the back seat, swiftly wrapping it around Max’s head while Max spluttered in protest. In seconds almost all of Max’s face had been covered, leaving only a tiny slit for his eyes to peek through. With his dead hand and his newly bandaged head, he looked a bit like an Egyptian mummy.

  ‘Good,’ said the Professor. He turned to Anna. ‘You’re next!’

  ‘I can do my own,’ said Anna quickly. ‘I’ve got my scarf, see?’

  Anna always kept her lucky black scarf nearby. She pulled it from her backpack and wrapped it around her face. She had been told that the scarf would keep her warm on the coldest nights. Would it be thick enough to protect her from a desert?

  ‘Wonderful!’ said the Professor. He unfolded a map and wrapped it around his head, creasing the paper so that it covered his mouth like a visor. He looked like a knight, although not a very good one. ‘Is everybody ready?’ And with that, he knocked on the car window and gave the two men a thumbs-up.

  Nothing could have prepared the children for what happened next.

  The doors swung open. A torrent of sand gushed through the void, whistling as it threw itself around the back seat. Toys and books were sent flying; Anna groped blindly for her backpack, unable to see or hear a single thing. Her fingers closed around the shoulder strap just as one of the men pulled her and Max from the car, and then they were staggering out into the desert beyond.

  If staring at the storm had felt like watching a broken television, then being in the storm felt like walking through a broken world. One of the black-robed men threw his sleeve around Anna’s face like a blindfold as he guided her across the plain. The sand stung when it struck her bare skin, prickling like a thousand needles. Anna was scared that if she took too deep a breath she might choke to death.

  ‘How far is it?’ she tried to ask, but she knew no-one would hear her. Suddenly she wondered if the Professor was wrong about his friend, and if the shadow men really were ghuls. Who was guiding her now – the man named Ali, or the man with the wild beard? She couldn’t see any sign of Max or the Professor. What if the ghuls were leading each of them in a different direction, so that it was even easier to gobble them all up?

  ‘Be careful,’ said a voice beside her ear. ‘Watch your step.’

  The sandy desert floor was starting to become quite rocky. The shadow man guided her down what seemed to be a very roughly hewn flight of stairs – and then, just as she was realising that the noise of the storm had died away, the blindfold-sleeve was whisked off Anna’s face. Anna looked around, blinking her eyes clean of sand, trying to take in her new surroundings.

  Standing before her was the most terrifying monster she had ever seen.

  3

  ZAREEN THE JEWELLER

  ANNA GASPED. THE CREATURE LOOKED LIKE a giant that had been crossed with every dangerous animal in the world. Long horns jutted high above a sabre-toothed snarl; great wings spread out on either side of it, making the beast as wide as it was tall. Curved claws protruded from its hands, wicked and sharp, as a serpentine tail curled around to point directly at Anna’s chest.

  Anna grabbed for the white knife just as the man in black laid a hand on her shoulder.

  ‘She is beautiful, don’t you think?’ he said. ‘Here she has stood for over a thousand years, waiting to be discovered again. Now that our dig has found her, she will be treasured once more.’

  Anna looked around in astonishment. Ali was smiling down at her as he shook the sand from his long black robes. His eyes widened as he saw the worry on her face.

  ‘Oh – but I did not mean to scare you!’ he said. ‘Man mote-asefam. It is made of stone, you see? There is no danger!’

  Anna looked back at the monster. Of course it was made of stone – she had realised that immediately. It was smooth in places where it should have been furry or feathery, and one of its sabre-teeth was missing.

  But that didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous. The last monster Anna had fought had been made of stone as well.

  ‘Argh!’ cried Max. ‘What’s that?’

  Max and the man with wild hair had arrived at the bottom of the staircase, followed closely by the Professor. Looking around, Anna saw they had descended into a stone alcove that was mostly sheltered from the storm. Gusts of wind were still blowing overhead, but as the little group stood together in the shadow of the monstrous statue, the world suddenly felt a lot more secure.

  ‘We have survived the sandstorm!’ boomed Ali. He grinned at Anna and Max. ‘Brave children you must be, to have done a thing like that. Did you find it scary?’

  Anna thought about it.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘But we’ve done worse.’

  The man laughed, and even the Professor smiled. ‘Children,’ he said, ‘I’d like to properly introduce you to my friend and colleague, Doctor Ali Mahsa. Ali, these are my children, Anna and Max.’

  Ali bent down to shake the children’s hands. Anna had always thought the Professor’s friends were rather boring, but there was a twinkle in Ali’s eyes that suggested he might be quite different to all the others. Anna realised she was already smiling back at him.

  ‘It’s nice to meet you,’ she said.

  ‘Yes,’ said Max, who was peering nervously up at the horned statue. ‘Very nice.’

  ‘What polite children you are,’ said Ali. ‘And now that the winds are not so fierce, you must also be introduced to my friend and colleague, the esteemed Dr Sassan.’

  The man with the wild beard – Dr Sassan – did not smile. Anna supposed he was feeling cross about having to rescue them from the storm.

  The Professor had not met Dr Sassan either, and so there was a lot of adult handshaking to be done. With nobody watching them, Anna and Max turned back to the fearsome beast looming above their heads.

  ‘What is it?’ whispered Max. ‘Do you think it could be another troll?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Anna whispered back. ‘I don’t think trolls have wings.’

  Max frowned. ‘Maybe this is the king of the trolls.’ The monster glowered down at them. For all its horns and fangs and scales, there was still something worryingly human about it. Anna ran through all the fairy tales she knew, trying to work out what the statue could be, half-listening to the three adults on the other side of the room. Her ears pricked up when she realised they were whispering.

  ‘Terrible business,’ Ali was muttering darkly. ‘Files missing – and artefacts too. Now we are forced to post a watchman outside the central tunnel as often as we can, and outside the research tent as well. It feels like sabotage, and yet we have seen no trace of a rival expedition. It is a nasty little mystery.’

  ‘But you’ve found the ruin!’ whispered the Professor excitedly. ‘The lost citadel! Could it really be the one?’

  ‘We hope so,’ said Ali. ‘If we can only continue our work without interruption, we may solve this puzzle yet.’

  Anna’s mouth dropped open in surprise. The Professor never talked about anything this interesting – and yet here he was, discussing secrets and sabotage in the centre of the desert. She wasn’t sure if she should feel proud or concerned.

  ‘But the children will want to hear this part as well,’ said Ali, raising his voice. ‘Anna, Max! Would you like to hear the story of that creature beside you?’

  The three adults had found seats atop the larger pieces of rubble. Anna and Max sat on two of the smaller rocks. Ali rubbed his hands together. The Professor was already scribbling furiously into one of his many notebooks.

  ‘So tell me,’ said Ali, pointing at the statue. ‘What manner of monster do you think that is?’

  Anna and Max looked at each other.

  ‘A troll,’ said Max.

  ‘A ghul,’ said Anna, at exactly the same time.

  Ali laughed. ‘Both good guesses! And ghul is very close indeed, although
not quite close enough. Tell me, what do you know of the djinn?’

  ‘Do you mean genies?’ asked Max. ‘I know lots about them.’

  ‘No, I mean the djinn!’ boomed Ali, smacking his hands together. ‘The flame-men of the secret world, their bodies composed of fire and smoke! The tricksters and the warriors, the man-eaters and the good Samaritans, all of them wandering the earth right under our very noses!’ His voice sounded angry, but his eyes were still twinkling.

  ‘Ali is teasing you,’ said the Professor. ‘A djinni is a genie, more or less.’

  Max frowned. ‘But that statue doesn’t look like a genie.’

  ‘Ah, but a djinni can look like anything,’ said Ali. ‘They are shape-changers the lot of them, twisting in the wind like candle flames. The smallest ones can follow you in disguise wherever you go, flitting between our lands and their own secret realm. And the biggest ones … well …’

  He nodded meaningfully at the statue.

  ‘But genies live in lamps,’ said Max. ‘So as long as you have the lamp, they have to do whatever you say.’

  ‘Wrong!’ cried Ali. ‘The djinn do not live in lamps! They are an untamed people, free to roam and adventure wherever they would like. But when they are imprisoned, well, that is a very different story. An imprisoned djinni has no choice but to obey its master, and it will endure its servitude with grace and dignity. It will live as a slave, and it will sleep in a lamp if it must, but that is not the natural way of things. It takes a great act of sorcery, to trap a djinni so.’

  ‘What kind of sorcery?’ asked Anna curiously.

  Dr Sassan coughed quietly into his beard. The Professor continued scribbling.

  ‘The djinn are a tricky people,’ said Ali, leaning forward. ‘But humans are tricky too. And once upon a time, more than one thousand years ago, there lived one of the trickiest humans of all. Her name was –’

  ‘Zareen!’ hissed Dr Sassan, his cold eyes flashing in the gloom. His voice was much higher than Ali’s deep boom, but still it sent shivers jittering down Anna’s spine. Max winced.

  ‘Yes, Zareen,’ said Ali gravely. ‘Zareen the jeweller, who worked from a tiny shop on the outskirts of the great city. Zareen who never slept, staring into the forge-fires every night from dusk until dawn. Zareen the merchant, whose rings were sought by kings and queens from every corner of the known world.

  ‘Such was the beauty of Zareen’s jewellery that one day a djinni dared to step into her shop. It was a jann, weakest of the djinn, but still its eyes smouldered as it stood over Zareen and demanded that she present it with a ring.

  ‘But Zareen was not afraid.

  ‘She took from her chest a silver ring of exquisite beauty and gave it to the jann. It greedily slipped the ring upon its finger, and in its haste it paid no heed to the strange inscriptions engraved around the band.

  ‘And that was its mistake.’

  Ali clapped his hands together. Anna jumped, and was relieved to see that Max had jumped as well.

  ‘So was Zareen a witch?’ she said.

  Max shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the word witch.

  Ali shrugged. ‘Zareen had learnt many secrets from the forge-fires. When the jann placed the ring upon its finger, its body became wracked with a pain unlike any other, burning as hot as the brightest flame, freezing as cold as the oldest ice. By the time it managed to cast the ring away, its spirit had been forever bound to the silver coil.’

  ‘Fascinating,’ said the Professor. ‘Absolutely fascinating.’

  ‘So what did Zareen wish for?’ asked Max.

  ‘Why, for whatever she wanted, of course!’ cried Ali. ‘If she desired food, the jann would bring her food. If she needed help with her forge, the jann would plunge its hands into the hot coals and emerge with its fingers unburnt. With just a twist of her ring Zareen could summon pillows, or sweet meats, or a cool cup of water on the warmest of days.

  ‘But the jann was still the weakest of the djinn, and so could perform no great feats of enchantment. When Zareen asked the jann to build her a palace, the jann could only admit that it alone would not be strong enough to lift great pillars of stone from the ground. When Zareen asked the jann to find her a ruby as large as a swallow’s egg, the jann informed her that the task would take it many weeks, for it could mine underground no faster than a normal man. As her slave continued to refuse her, Zareen’s frustrations grew, and so she came to crave more power. She set her mind to crafting an even greater ring: a ring of such astonishing beauty that it might be used to trap one of the most powerful djinn of all.’

  A rogue squall of wind snaked through the alcove, blowing small clouds of black-brown dust into the air.

  ‘So did she do it?’ asked Anna impatiently.

  To her surprise, Ali shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘What?’ said Max. ‘What do you mean, you don’t know?’

  ‘These are old stories,’ said Ali. ‘Very, very old. Some of the endings have been lost.’

  Anna stared at him in bewilderment. Surely he couldn’t be serious? ‘So why did you tell us all that, then?’ she said crossly. ‘Why did you start the story if you weren’t going to finish it?’

  Ali smiled a very sly smile.

  ‘Because perhaps the ending will not be lost forever,’ he said. ‘Perhaps a team of archaeologists in the Iranian desert have dug long enough and deep enough to find a ruin that many thought would never be seen again.

  ‘Maybe now they will unravel the secrets of the lost citadel of Zareen. Maybe they will find her tomb, and find her ring, and maybe the great djinni will be released once more!’

  4

  TENT 42B

  (THE DESERT ROSE)

  THERE WAS A LONG, QUIET MOMENT IN THE stone alcove. Anna’s head was spinning. Ali’s story had made it seem as if he knew all about magic – but magic was supposed to be a secret.

  Then Ali began to laugh. His laughter echoed around the walls, booming and bouncing off the stone, louder than the whistling wind. Anna wasn’t sure what the joke was supposed to be. Had Ali been making the whole thing up?

  The Professor didn’t seem to find it funny either. He finally raised his head from his notebook, looking very excited. ‘So what do you suppose it was?’ he said. ‘An ifrit? A marid?’

  ‘I really do not know,’ said Ali. He grinned. ‘I confess I do not truly think we will see a djinni in this desert. I suspect the Zareen of history may have created treasures of astonishing beauty, but the tales of her enchantments are perhaps a little too incredible to be believed.’

  ‘And her tomb?’ said the Professor. ‘How close are you to finding it? How many markings have you decrypted?’

  Ali clapped the Professor on the back. ‘That is all your job, old friend! Help us find the jewels of Zareen and finish the tale, so this story may finally be at peace.’

  Anna exhaled a small sigh of relief. So Ali didn’t know about magic – he had just been telling them a fairy tale. But how much of what he had said could really be true? And why was someone trying to sabotage the dig?

  She flinched as Dr Sassan rose to his feet. He looked impatient now, as if Ali’s story had gone on for far too long.

  ‘The storm has passed,’ he muttered. ‘We can return to the main camp.’

  ‘Good!’ said Ali, standing up. He grinned. ‘I do hope that our tents have not blown away!’

  A strong breeze was still gusting across the desert hills, but the storm had indeed settled. Anna and Max waddled together up the side of a sand dune, spraying sand forwards and backwards with each new step. It would have been fun if it wasn’t still so hot.

  ‘My goodness,’ said the Professor as they came to the top of the hill. ‘That’s quite the operation you have here!’

  Anna goggled at the sight before them. At the base of the dune sat a great stone tower, its eclectic battlements protruding warily into the air. Dozens of people were buzzing around the walls, dusting and digging, carrying trowels and spades and other too
ls along a series of zig-zagging trenches. Thin white ropes stretched in every direction, marking out various stones, holes and statues. The whole encampment looked a bit like an enormous spider web.

  Beside the ruin sat a neat grid of tents, and beyond the tents was the strangest thing of all.

  ‘I think I must be seeing things,’ said Max, rubbing his eyes. ‘Is that a lake?’

  ‘Of course!’ boomed Ali. ‘Lake Jewaher, jewel of the desert!’

  The lake was so wide and so blue that it might have been an ocean. Anna squinted. It even looked as if the lake had its own islands. It seemed truly impossible that so much water could exist in a place that felt so dry.

  ‘Does that mean we can go for a swim?’ said Anna excitedly. After their long trip through the desert, she couldn’t think of anything more wonderful.

  ‘One thing at a time,’ said the Professor. ‘I can’t wait to see more of these ruins!’

  Anna couldn’t help but feel that she and the Professor sometimes had very different priorities. She tried to keep her bearings as the group made its way down into the busy camp, ducking under white ropes and skirting deep, dark trenches. Sassan excused himself and strode hurriedly away as Ali began introducing the Professor to his other colleagues, stopping as a group to admire a row of decaying animal statues that had been dragged out of the sand. Anna walked carefully along the avenue of stone cats and stone lions, stone birds and stone scorpions, reminding herself with every step that they were only statues, not trolls. Even so, by the time Ali led them past the expansive dining tent, Anna had a thorough case of the creeps.

  ‘And here is your tent,’ said Ali at last, drawing back a flap of canvas. ‘I hope you will find it comfortable.’

  The children had not been expecting much of the desert camp, and so they were surprised to see the space that had been prepared for them. Two neat beds were tucked along the sides of the tent, each of them covered with a bright array of pillows and blankets. Beside Anna’s bed stood a stack of guidebooks, and on Max’s bed sat a paper bag that was unmistakably full of sweets. A very pretty lamp sat between the beds, with a big stained-glass bulb coloured blue, green and red.