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In his left hand, Solomon clutched a copper scroll. In his right, a staff.

The staff was made of dark, polished wood. Each end was capped with iron and a brass band ringed the center. Strange symbols were carved into every inch of the surface. Maddock had just leaned in for a closer look when a voice rang out.

“Put your hands in the air slowly, or you all will die.”

Chapter 35

Tsingy de Bemaraha, Madagascar

Maddock turned slowly, hands above his head. Had he been alone, he might have tried something different, dive behind the coffin and come up fighting, perhaps. But he was not alone and he didn’t know what they faced. He knew Bones could fend for himself but not Isla. The only time she’d ever come under fire, she’d lost her composure and fled.

Triple flashlight beams shone in his direction. He could tell by their positions that they rested on the floor. No good for targeting.

“Last time we were together, I didn’t make certain you were dead, Mister Maddock. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Nomi.”

“Did you miss me?”

“Not especially. I prefer a girl who sticks around.” He had not intended that as a slight against Isla, but he could tell from the hurt expression on her face that she had taken it that way. Too bad. They had more pressing concerns at the moment.

“I intend to stick around,” Nomi said, “long after you’re gone.”

Maddock’s fingers itched to go for his pistol, but he’d never get to it in time. He could just make out the three figures arrayed before them, all down on one knee in a shooting position, weapons aimed with steady hands. Any sudden move and they were all sure to die.

“Give me the ring,” Nomi said.

“I don’t have it anymore.”

“Lie to me again and you all die. Give it to me.”

“Fine.” Slowly, Maddock brought his hands down, reached into his pocket, grabbed a coin, and tossed it into the air toward Nomi.

That was the signal. As Nomi’s eyes followed the arc of the shiny metal object, Maddock dove to the side, rolled, and came up with weapon in hand.

Bones had tackled Isla and was shielding her with his body as he drew his weapon and fired from a prone position.

The intruders returned fire. Maddock heard a cry of pain, but didn’t know who had been hit.

Nomi stumbled backward, teetered on the edge of the chasm, but caught herself just as she snatched the coin from midair.

Maddock fired off a single shot in her direction and rolled to the side. He saw her dash away, clutching her wounded hand to her chest.

It was chaos. Flashes of gunfire. Bullets flying, ricocheting. Flashlights kicked, rolling crazily in every direction. Maddock tried to choose his targets but could not tell who was who.

“Stop!” A woman’s voice, strong and terrible, boomed throughout the cavernous space.

Isla rose up from behind the coffin, Solomon’s staff clutched in both hands. Red sparks danced along its surface, the symbols glowing like embers. On her left hand, Solomon’s ring blazed a brilliant, icy blue that burned the eyes to look at it.

“Isla! Get down!” Maddock shouted.

Either she could not hear him or she chose to ignore him. She brandished the staff, her eyes alive with the same light as the ring.

Shots rang out from Nomi and her companions, but none of them struck Isla. Whether they missed or were deflected by some mystical power Maddock could not say. Intent on doing his part, he aimed a shot at the spot where he had seen the closest muzzle flash, then dodged to the side as someone fired back.

Isla looked to her right, then to her left. “The breath of life!” she cried. “Rise!”

Flickering trails of red light flowed out from the staff, each settling upon one of the piles of bones that guarded the remains of Solomon. At the first touch of the light, the bones began to assemble themselves, forming ten massive skeletal soldiers who hefted their weapons and marched forward.

“Kill them!” Nomi shouted. She and her companions opened fire. Bullets shattered bone, pinged off of sword blades and spear points. One skeleton went down, its knee shattered. Then another. But both continued to crawl forward.

The pace of gunfire slowed and then abated.

“Run!” One of Nomi’s companions broke and ran, heading for the exit. A skeleton warrior stepped forward and swung its sword.

Maddock just had time to recognize the fleeing man as Ronald before the sword took the man in the throat, cleanly severing his head from his body.

At that, Nomi and her other companion, Maddock assumed it was the man called Cleo, turned and fled. The skeletons gave chase.

Terrified, Nomi and Cleo ran right off the ledge and plunged into the chasm below. Like lemmings, the skeletons followed behind them.

Maddock rose and turned to Isla, and gasped at what he saw.

A crimson nimbus surrounded her. Her head was thrown back, her face a mask of ecstasy. Winds began to swirl. Maddock remembered the stories of Black Caesar, how he could call up a storm to disable a ship before he captured it. Gale force winds buffeted him, driving him toward the ledge.

“Isla! Stop it!”

The winds continued unabated. Maddock leaned into them, trying to get to Isla. He suddenly realized Bones was nowhere to be seen. Where was he?

He spotted his friend, soaked in blood, crawling out from behind the coffin.

“Isla, you’ve got to get a grip on yourself!” Maddock shouted.

But Isla could not hear him and now he knew why. The glowing red light around her had taken on a human form — a muscular form with slanted eyes, a sharp chin, pointed ears, and fangs.

He remembered another of the Solomon legends Isla had collected. Solomon had used the ring to control the djinn, both good and evil, to do his bidding. An evil spirit had taken control of Solomon, persuaded him to hand over the ring, and that spirit had wielded the power of Solomon for forty days and nights before Solomon recovered enough of himself to wrest control from the malevolent spirit.

As Maddock looked up at the glowing red figure, he knew that he had truly seen the face of evil.

He lurched forward, the wind nearly strong enough to support his weight.

“Isla,” he pleaded, “you’ve got to fight it.”

The djinn bared its fangs and leered at him. Isla looked at him, her eyes still glowing. There was no sign of recognition there. Only malevolence.

Bones had crawled within arm’s reach of her. With a grunt of pain, he made a grab for the staff. She snatched it away and cracked him on the temple with the iron tip. He fell dazed to the floor.

Maddock racked his brain, trying to remember any more details of the legend. Solomon had used the ring to control the djinn: iron to control the evil djinn, bronze for the good.

His eyes fell on the bronze band around the staff. He dropped to his knees and crawled forward, head down, like a supplicant.

“Don’t hurt me,” he pleaded, inching closer. “Please. I won’t fight anymore.” Closer…closer.

And then he leaped. One hand closed around the brass band, the other clamped down on Isla’s left hand, his palm pressed against the hard surface of the ring. Would it be enough?

He felt a flicker, a sense of a faint presence there, just as he’d felt every time he’d put on the ring. He focused all his thoughts on communicating with this presence.

Help me. Save us.

A blue mist emanated from the brass band on the staff, forming into an amorphous blue blob. Maddock concentrated harder, pouring his will into the shape until it too formed into the shape of a djinn. A single thought sent it flying into combat with the red spirit.

Maddock could tell by the faintness of his djinn that it was not here as strongly as the evil spirit, but it fought with zeal.