Faconi wrapped a hand around the amulet, chanting in that same rhythmic tone he’d used earlier. Blue energy rose from the amulet, crawling down his arm, to his shoulder, and across to his other arm raised high in the air. The blue light expanded, taking form—a humanoid form with cloven feet and large horns curling out from its head. When the light faded, a crimson-skinned devil stood beside the wizard, forked tail lashing behind him, a hideous grin stretching his mouth wider than any humanoid mouth should, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth.
“You’re wasting your ‘power,’” Rayaan taunted. “Free me and you won’t need to use up your precious limited resources.”
“This is a devil from the regions of Hell,” Faconi said without taking his eyes off Bas. “It will not only fight for me, it will lead me to hidden treasure. I won’t need to raise the Flor de la Mar. I waste nothing.”
The devil twisted its body, lashing out at Bas with its tail. Bas snapped his jaws closed, catching the writhing limb in his teeth. With a hiss, the devil jerked his tail closer, dragging Bas close enough to bring its claws down on the mummy dog’s face. The bandages fell away from Bas’s left eye, along with a chunk of dried skin. The devil cried out in delight, but its joy was premature. Bas responded to the attack with a swipe of his own claws, and he caught the devil across the throat. Black blood trickled down the devil’s bare chest, and it screamed a gurgling sound of unholy rage.
A feline whine made me look toward the Siamese. One of the pair had taken his eyes off the amulet and was creeping toward the devil. I leaned forward, fascinated. The twins’ secret was perhaps the one I’d most wanted to see in action. I’d heard they were the vessels for ancient ghosts—royalty, no less. Something about an ancient duty to preserve the spirits of their masters. I’d never seen the spirits myself…
Until now.
A smoky form rose from the male Siamese’s body as he got closer to the devil. I stared at the image of an old man dressed in fine silks, his head bald, and his eyes full of ethereal silver light. The ghost chanted in a smooth, lyrical language that made the devil snarl.
Apparently, Faconi couldn’t see the ghost. He didn’t react at all to its appearance, nor did he seem to find the Siamese creeping toward his summoned devil a threat.
No wonder he’d needed the amulet to power his spells. He had no sensitivity at all. He had no idea his precious devil was about to be dismissed.
The wizard snatched his staff off the ground where the ball-tail had dropped it, and now he pointed it at Bas. I flattened my ears. No matter how many attacks he suffered at the hands of my brethren, the human seemed convinced Bas was the only threat. That getting rid of him would make his “minions” go away.
Minions. I remembered that word now. The witch used it sometimes when she was angry.
It was a dismissive word, used for the people in the fight who didn’t matter.
Energy rose with my anger. Anger at being ignored. Anger that this human had taken what wasn’t his, was using it to hurt people. Hurt Bas. Bas who was helpful. Like me. I concentrated as hard as I could, focused as hard as I could.
Nothing.
I hissed in frustration, glaring at the wizard, trying to make that anger do something.
Claws pressed down on my tail from behind me, digging past flesh and into the bone. I screeched.
A fountain of gems shot forward like a razor-sharp rainbow. And thanks to my position, they were all headed straight for Faconi. The tortoise shell cat made a sound of satisfaction as he removed his claws from my tail, watching as the gems sliced into the wizard. Shallow cuts mostly, but they bled. A lot.
The wizard’s mouth moved, but he didn’t say anything, seeming caught off guard by the sight of all the priceless gems. He actually twitched as if fighting the urge to drop to his knees and pick up as many as his flimsy pockets could carry.
The alley cat took advantage of the wizard’s hesitation and seized the staff in her jaws again. The sudden movement at the bottom of the staff threw the wizard off balance and he stumbled and fell to the floor. The Siamese that had still been focused on the amulet took her chance. She darted forward, her delicate jaws closing over the string just above the small clay cat.
There was no guardian as tenacious as a Siamese. Rumor had it, centuries ago a pair of Siamese had been tasked with guarding a precious chalice. So intense was their diligence, the sheer force of their concentration, it had left the feline—and her descendants—with the crossed-eyes her breed was known for.
Now she used that same intensity, that same determination, as she pressed her teeth together, sealing her jaws closed over the strap. Her sharp teeth pressed into the worn leather, and with a vicious tug, she jerked the amulet free.
Faconi cried out in dismay as she sprinted across the room and darted under the bed. He swiveled his head around in desperation.
Searching for his devil.
Unfortunately for him, the devil was locked in battle with the ghost of a man who sounded like he’d fought a devil or two before. The musical chanting coming from the ghost’s mouth was smooth and confident, beautiful in its simplicity. The devil screamed and slashed at the ghost, but his claws passed through it without so much as distorting the old man’s face.
“What are you doing?” Faconi shouted, clearly still not seeing the ghost. “Get the cat! It’s under the bed and it has my amulet!”
The devil growled something in a language that made my skin crawl under my fur. It lumbered toward the bed, wincing and hissing as the Siamese carried his ghost behind him, the ghost still chanting, still calm and confident.
The tortoise shell cat darted under the devil’s arm as it raced to join the Siamese. The devil crouched down and reached underneath the bed, but if the expression on its face was anything to go by, the tortoise shell cat kept himself and the Siamese with her prize out of his reach.
Suddenly the devil flinched and jerked its arm from under the bed, using it now to shield its face. The ghost’s voice rose, gaining power.
“Get the amulet!” Faconi screamed.
The devil snarled—
Then vanished.
The ghost bowed his head, spoke a few more soft words, then drifted away into smoke.
“Rayaan!” Faconi shouted, his voice high with panic. “I release you!”
“Say the words!” the djinn shouted.
I tensed and straightened. Rayaan. That was the name Bas had given the djinn. The wizard was talking to the djinn in the book. And Rayaan was using the “Yes, I Promise, Now Give Me the Honey” voice the pixie used when negotiating with the witch.
Faconi shouted something in a language more formal than the first. I recognized a spell when I heard one, had heard the witch often enough. There was a certain cadence to spells that sounded different from regular human speech.
Suddenly a figure erupted from the pages of the book. A figure of smoke and obsidian, with eyes that made you feel like you were falling if you looked into them too deeply. I would have sworn I heard the whisper of sand when the djinn stepped out of the book and onto the floor of the wizard’s bedroom. Faconi looked at Bas, a triumphant, evil look in his eyes as he waited for the djinn to destroy his enemies.
Rayaan grabbed Faconi, curling one clawed hand around the wizard’s throat.
The wizard’s end was quick, violent, and bloody. The spray of the wizard’s lifeblood colored everyone but the tortoise shell cat, who’d, of course, managed to stand exactly out of range despite having left the protection of the shelter under the bed.
The djinn faced Bas and began to speak. I didn’t understand what he said, but Bas nodded. First at the djinn, and then at me.