Matt stared. So did the thugs. Callio cradled three revolvers in his left arm and held the fourth pointed at them all.
The driver swore. “How the hell did you get my gat?”
“He’s a thief,” Matt said. “Remember when he went into a panic and jumped on you?”
The man swore again and started for Callio. The gun crashed in the thief’s hand and the left-hand guard cried out, clapping a hand to his shoulder.
“He don’t even know how to aim!” the driver shouted, and ran at Callio… but the thief’s gun swiveled to center on him, and the thug skidded to a halt.
“Back,” Callio said. “Get well back, all of you, back from the Lord Wizard. True, I do not know how to use these magical weapons, but if you come too close, I cannot miss. Get back!”
“Yes, get back,” Groldor agreed, pulling out his own automatic. “He may not know how to shoot, but I do!”
Matt throttled a shout of anger and dove for Groldor in total silence… but the left-hand guard saw him and swung a ferocious backhand. Matt saw it coming, ducked, grabbed the arm and shoved it up behind the thug’s back… and found himself staring down the barrel of Groldor’s gun.
“Boss,” the thug panted, “you wouldn’t!”
“I have perfect aim,” Groldor assured him. “You are in no danger.”
Then the gun turned red in his fist. Groldor howled and dropped it, wringing his hand. The thugs shouted and started for it, but it glowed yellow and jumped on the pavement us a shot rang out. The barrel slid, ejecting the spent cartridge, and another fired, then another and another. The thugs cringed away from its muzzle; so did Callio and Matt.
But Groldor was busy sawing the air with his hands and chanting in Arabic… not that it did any good; the heated gun went on firing until the clip was empty. Two of the thugs howled, slumping, as bullets hit thigh and foot.
Finally it was silent. Everyone stared at the gun as though expecting it to reload itself. Then Groldor snarled, “How did you make it grow so hot, Lord Wizard?”
“He did not,” said a hard but very feminine voice. “I did.”
They all turned, to see a slender, voluptuous, but very stylish woman dressed in the height of fashion clacking toward them on stiletto heels, head high, every inch a princess.
Matt stared. “Lakshmi?”
The woman touched one guard; he slumped, unconscious, even as she turned to touch another. He slept, too, and she advanced on Groldor, who backed away in alarm, still gesturing and chanting.
“You rely on the magic of your homeland,” Lakshmi said, “but it is weak here. My magic is within me.”
“You are a djinna!”
“I am… and your fate is sealed.” Lakshmi turned away from him contemptuously. “Take him with you, Lord Wizard… unless you wish to slay him here.”
“It’s tempting,” Matt admitted, “but I think I’ll take him back to Bordestang and let Mama decide what to do with him.”
Lakshmi smiled. “It would be kinder to kill him quickly, while he sleeps.”
“Yes,” Matt agreed. “That’s why, I’m taking him to Mama.” He looked into her eyes. “Thanks for yet another rescue, Your Highness.”
“Thank your father,” she said, her tone tart. “It was he who bade me follow and ward you… not that I have any greater hope of his gratitude than of yours.”
“Someday there will be something I can do for you.”
“There is now.” For a moment, Lakshmi’s smile grew lazy, and the full force of her allure blazed on Matt. It shook him to his core… in human form, and with the clothing of his own world covering her in modesty at the same time that it emphasized every aspect of an inhumanly voluptous figure, she made him tremble with greater desire than ever.
Lakshmi sensed his reaction and moved in, eyelids growing heavy, lips curving and moistening in a sensuous smile. Matt backed away, fighting for control, and Lakshmi’s smile turned bitter as she stopped. Her allure cut off abruptly, and she seemed to be only a woman again. “Not that you will do what you could to thank me. Perhaps someday you will discover some reward that you are willing to give.”
Matt went limp with relief.
Then a howl of pain galvanized them both. They turned, to see Groldor writhing in Callio’s grip… and staring down the barrel of one of the thief’s recent acquisitions.
“He tried to creep away, Lord Wizard,” Callio explained. “I did not think he should.”
Matt stared. “How the hell did you learn that wrestling hold?”
“It came from inside,” Callio said, bewildered, “came quite suddenly.”
“I think you may be stealing more from my world than you know,” Matt said. He knelt, pulling off Groldor’s belt and tying his hands with it. “Put all the guns down, Callio. We don’t want them coming back home.”
“If you say so,” the thief said, sulking. Three metallic objects clattered on the floor.
“All of them, Callio.”
“You never let me keep anything,” the thief pouted, but the fourth gun landed on the floor, too.
“Somebody gimme a fix!” one of the wounded guards howled. Then his eyes widened, and he gasped, “You did!”
“I guess my second spell just took longer to take effect,” Matt said, relieved. Then he glanced up at Lakshmi. “Or did it?”
“It was a very weak spell,” the djinna told him. “I have increased its power.”
“Thanks again, Princess,” Matt sighed. “There has to be something moral I can do for you someday.”
“Releasing me from bondage was a great boon,” she told him. “You have no idea how greatly you served me then!”
“Yeah, but I’m already past the traditional three-wish reward.”
“No, you have only wished twice,” Lakshmi told him. “The other requests were your father’s, and I granted them only because it pleased me. All else I have done for you was again my own thought. It amused me.”
“Best thing I ever did was telling you that you were free to do as you wished,” Matt said. “I never guessed you’d want to be so helpful.”
“I do hope for further reward,” Lakshmi admitted. “Think long and hard, Wizard.”
“As soon as I get this corrupted magus to justice.” Matt hauled Groldor upright… and found the drug baron grinning. Matt frowned and demanded, “What’s so funny?”
“Why, that you have come too late,” Groldor told him. “Even now, that Mahdi comes to personal combat with your queen.”
Matt stared at him for a long minute of horror.
Then he grabbed the man by the hair and the bound wrists, ignoring his howl as he shouted, “Callio, hold tight! Princess, I’ll see you back home!
The warehouse wavered around them, then turned into formlessness as the dizziness struck.
Of course, to the two conscious thugs, it was Matt, Groldor, and Callio who had turned formless, then disappeared. The two men stared, their injuries forgotten for the moment. Voice taut with pain, the left-hand guard asked, “You think we oughta tell the cops when they get here?”
“Hey, why not?” his partner shrugged, then winced at the pain it caused. “They wouldn’t believe us anyway.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The fleet of fishing boats waited until the morning tide to sail into the mouth of the river, then coasted upstream all day. Late in the afternoon they anchored, a day’s march from Bordestang. Rinaldo hoped the Moors wouldn’t have thought to have sentries watch the river. Just in case they had, though, he waited until after sunset. Then, when his own scouts reported no trace of enemy troops, the king gave the order to land, and the long process of ferrying men and horses to shore began.