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Cimorene turned back to the jinn and saw that he, too, was looking perturbed. "What's the matter with you?" she said crossly.

"Dost thou not wish to know why I will kill thee?" the jinn asked plaintively.

"What difference does it make?" Cimorene said.

"Yes, actually," Therandil said at the same time.

"Therandil!" Cimorene said in exasperation. "Shut up!"

"Hear my story, O luckless pair!" the jinn said with evident relief.

"I am one of those jinn who did rebel against the law of our kind, and for my crimes I was sentenced to imprisonment in this bottle until the day should come when human hands would loose me. As is the custom of my people, I swore that whoso should release me during the first hundred years of my imprisonment I would make ruler of the earth; whoso should release me during the second hundred years I should make rich beyond all dreams of men; whoso shall release me during the third hundred I should grant three wishes; and whoso should release me after any longer span of time I should grant only the choice of what death he would die."

"You're going to kill us because it's traditional?" Cimorene asked.

"Yes," the jinn said. His eyes slid away from Cimorene's, and she frowned suddenly.

"Just how long were you in that jar?" she demanded.

"Uh, well, actually…" The jinn's voice trailed off.

"How long?" Cimorene insisted.

"Two hundred and seventeen years," the jinn admitted. "But nobody ever releases a jinn before the three hundred years are over."

"You're trying to get around your oath!" Therandil said, plainly shocked by the very thought. "You pretended you had to kill us so you wouldn't have to give us the wishes!"

"No!" the jinn said. "Thinkest thou that the granting of wishes alone would so trouble me? Needs must I kill thee and thy fair companion, for I cannot return home and say that thou didst release me and I left thee living! I would be a laughingstock. Never in three thousand years has such a thing occurred"

"Then you shouldn't have sworn an oath," Therandil said sternly.

"I had to!" the jinn said miserably. "It is the custom of our kind.

'Twould be… 'twould be…"

"Improper?" Cimorene murmured.

"'Twould be improper to do otherwise," the jinn said, nodding. "But now thou hast found me out, and what am I to do? If I kill thee, it will violate my oath; if I kill thee not, the remainder of my life will be a torment."

"You could go back in the jar for another eighty-three years," Cimorene suggested delicately.

"I could… go back?" The jinn blinked at her for a moment. "I could go back. I could go back!"

"And in eighty-three years we'll both be dead of old age," Cimorene said. "Since that was my choice of death, your oath will be fulfilled and you can go straight home without killing anyone else or giving them any riches or power or anything."

"Truly, thou art a jewel among women and the very Queen of Wisdom's daughters!" the jinn said happily. "Thou hast found the perfect solution to my difficulties!"

"Wait a minute!" Therandil said. "What about those wishes?"

"Therandil!" Cimorene said in a shocked tone. "I'm surprised at you! How can he give us wishes if he's going back in the jar for eighty-three years? It wouldn't be right at all."

Therandil frowned. "Are you sure? After all, we did let him out during his third hundred years."

"I suppose I could let thee have one wish at least, in token of my thanks for thy help," the jinn said. "As long as thou dost not tell anyone."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Therandil assured him. "And my Wish is to defeat a dragon and win his princess's hand in marriage!"

The Jinn waved a dark hand over Therandil's head. "There! When next thou dost fight a dragon, thou shalt surely defeat him. And thou?" he said, turning to Cimorene.

"I could use some powdered hens' teeth," Cimorene said.

The jinn blinked in surprise, but he waved his hand again, his face a mask of concentration. Then he bowed and handed Cimorene a fat brown jar. "There's thy desire. Farewell!" With an elaborate salaam, the jinn dissolved back into a cloud of smoke that poured back into the copper jar from which it had come. Cimorene leaned over and plucked the lead stopper from the end of Therandil's knife. She jammed it back into place and heaved a sigh of relief.

Therandil was not paying attention. "What did you want something like that for?" he asked, looking at the jar of hens' teeth and wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"I don't believe I shall tell you," Cimorene said, putting the jar carefully into one of her apron pockets. "It has nothing to do with you."

"Nothing to do with me? I like that!" Therandil said indignantly.

"I'm going to marry you, just as soon as I beat that dragon of yours."

"I don't think you're going to beat Kazul," Cimorene said in a considering tone.

"But that jinn just said-" "He said that if you fight a dragon, you'll defeat him. But Kazul is a her, not a him," Cimorene pointed out.

"And you ought not to be trying to rescue me anyway."

"Why not?" Therandil asked truculently.

"Because there are other princesses who've been captives of dragons for much longer than I have, and they have seniority," Cimorene explained.

"Oh," said Therandil, looking considerably taken aback. "How do you know?"

"They came to visit and told me all about it," Cimorene said. "I think you should try for Keredwel. She's from the Kingdom of Raxwel, and her hair is the color of sun-ripened wheat, and she wears a gold crown set with diamonds. You ought to get along with her very well."

Therandil brightened perceptibly at this description but said, "But everyone expects me to rescue you."

"As long as you defeat a dragon and rescue a princess, no one will care," Cimorene said firmly. "And Keredwel will suit you much better than I would."

"Are you sure her dragon isn't female, too?"

"Positive," Cimorene said. "Gornul 's cave is two down and three over.

If you follow the path outside, you can't miss it. He ought to be there now, and if you leave right away, you'll be able to get everything settled before dinner."

"All right, then," Therandil said. "As long as you're sure you don't mind."

"Not at all," Cimorene assured him fervently. She saw him to the mouth of the cave and pointed him toward Gornul's cave, then returned to the kitchen. She gathered up the jars and bottles she had been planning to check, except for the copper jar with the jinn inside, and took them back to the treasure vault. Then she fetched an ink pot, a quill pen, and a sheet of paper from the library and began writing out a warning to attach to the copper jar. She didn't want anyone else to open it until the eighty-three years were over and the jinn could go home without killing anyone.

She was just finishing when she heard Alianora's voice calling from the rear of the cave. "I'm in the kitchen? she shouted. "Come on back!"

"You're always in the kitchen," Alianora said when she poked her head through the door a moment later. "Or the library. Don't you ever do anything but cook and read?"

"Look at this, Alianora," Cimorene said, handing her the warning she had been writing. "Do you think it's clear enough?"

"'Warning: This jar contains a jinn who will kill you if you let him out too soon. Do not open until at least one hundred and five years after the date when the Citadel of the Yellow Giant was destroyed,'" Alianora read aloud. "That's, let's see, eighty-four years from now. It seems clear to me.

You'd have to be pretty stupid to ignore a warning like that."

"Maybe I ought to show it to Hallanna and see what she says," Cimorene said, frowning. "I wouldn't want anyone getting into trouble by accident, just because I didn't make it plain."

"It's plain, it's plain," Alianora said. "Cimorene, what on earth have you been doing? How do you know there's a jinn in this bottle?"