“You are welcome.” Lakshmi snatched the brooch from his hand and frowned, studying it. “How shall we enter here?”
“Isn’t the point to bring them out, not go in?” Matt asked.
“I do not trust it,” Lakshmi said. “They might be caught between my spell and whatever force holds them.”
“Even so!” Balkis said. “I felt stretched between the pull of your spell and Arjasp‘s wards!”
“So he works that way, huh?” Matt frowned. “That means somebody has to go in and bring them out, all right.” He turned to Prester John. “You’d better march on and attack the city, Your Majesty. We’re going to have our hands full for a little while.”
“If you say it,” John said, but he seemed doubtful.
“Be warned,” Balkis said. “I overheard Arjasp order a messenger to China, to send troops to aid his forces against your soldiers.”
“I regret that we shall not be able to accompany you,” Lakshmi said, gaze still intent on the gem, “but we must recover our children first.”
“Indeed,” John said, decision firming. “I shall see if I can remove this canker that plagues us. May good fortune attend you!”
“After she’s dried off,” Matt said, with an apprehensive glance at the region of air where the color wheel had been. “Thanks, Majesty. See you in Maracanda.”
“In Maracanda,” John confirmed. He turned his horse and rode back to his troops.
Matt turned to join Lakshmi in gazing at the gem. “I’ll go.”
“They are my children,” Marudin said. “I shall go.”
“We shall all go.” Lakshmi held up the brooch. “Gaze into the gem—let it seem to grow to fill all the space about you—let yourself become lost in it.”
Matt gazed, feeling as though he were being hypnotized, and heard Lakshmi’s voice droning in Arabic. He was just realizing that she was speaking in rhyme and meter when the rosiness of the quartz seemed to envelop him and pull him in.
He found himself trying to walk, but the pink fog about him seemed to be sticky, clinging to him, trying to hold him back. “Are we there yet?” he called.
“Not yet,” Lakshmi’s voice answered, seeming distant. “Strive, wizard! Press on a little longer!”
Then, abruptly, the mist pulled back, cleared—and Matt saw what had been making it red. Two flames burned brightly before him, each ten feet tall, each with eyes toward its top—narrowed eyes that glared down at them as though seeking to pierce them. The flames began to move toward the companions; at the bottoms they divided and became legs, stamping forward on feet of coals.
“Avaunt!” Lakshmi cried, her voice dropping into a strange accent. “Thou dost stand betwixt me and my babes!”
The fire roared higher and kept on coming.
What happened next was too fast for Matt to follow. All he saw was the two djinn moving in blurs and little bits of flame flying everywhere. He did manage to make out that Marudin was taking the left-hand flame and Lakshmi the right, but not exclusively. He knew he had to do something to help. The only thing that came to mind was,
A deluge struck, and a hiss like that of a thousand serpents went up with a cloud of steam.
” ‘Nothing succeeds like excess,’ “ Matt quoted to himself, and called out one more:
Sure enough, the stinging drops hardened into half-inch balls of ice. Matt gave it ten minutes, until he saw the last of the flames die down. Then he called out,
It wasn’t exactly a bud, more like an overblown rose—but the rain slackened. When it lifted, the two djinn were lying, spent and gasping, near two small piles of very dead coals.
Balkis let out a cry and dashed to Lakshmi. Matt thought that was a good idea and went to Marudin. He picked up the djinn’s wrist, felt for a pulse, and wondered if djinn had blood—but if they didn’t, they certainly had an equivalent, for Marudin’s pulse was strong and steady. Matt held a hand in front of his nostrils and felt breath. He scanned the prince anxiously, but didn’t see any signs of injury except some red patches that faded even as he watched.
“I can see no wounds,” Balkis called anxiously, “yet still she sleeps and does not revive.”
“I think that fight took an awful lot out of them,” Matt said, thinking as he said it. “Energy, I mean. Also breath—the flames used up all the oxygen, that close to them. That’s probably what knocked them out.” He sat back on his heels. “I think they’ll revive on their own if we just wait long enough.”
“We dare not!” Balkis spun to him, eyes wide. “Surely Arjasp knows we have come into the gem! If he did not see us take it, then surely the fall of these sentries will have told him!”
“You’re right.” Matt stood up and turned away. “We’ll have to let them recover on their own.” He gave Balkis a long, steady look. “It’s going to be very scary. There might be worse than this.”
“Do you think I am afraid?” Balkis stood up, back straight, chin high. “Well, so I am! But I shall press on! Four kittens are in peril!”
“Stout heart.” Matt smiled. “And this way, at least the fear won’t take you by surprise. Let’s go, and hope the djinn catch up with us when we need them.” He took her hand and stepped over the piles of coals.
The pink mist closed about them again.
CHAPTER 30
“When shall we become small enough to fit into this gem?” Balkis asked.
“I hate to say it,” Matt said, “but I think we already are.”
“What!” Balkis’ hand yanked tight on his.
Turning toward her, he could barely see her through the mist. “I think this fog all around us is the outer shell of the gem. We‘re not just tiny, we’re almost microscopic.”
Balkis only stared at him with wide, dark eyes. Matt turned and started walking again. He felt a slight tug on his hand, then she came with him.
Only a few steps later the mist began to lighten. A few steps after that it thinned, then was gone—and Matt and Balkis stopped, staring at an astounding landscape.
They stood at the top of a rise. Before them, a meadow filled with red, white, and pink flowers fell away to a rose-colored stream. Beyond the water stood a forest of rosebushes grown into trees, with reddish bark and russet leaves filled with dusky pink blossoms. Above them, the sky stretched, pink and translucent.
“It is enchanted,” Balkis breathed.
“Literally, I’m afraid,” Matt agreed.
But Balkis wasn’t listening; she had raised her gaze to the sky. “Surely that cannot be the surface of the gem!”
“I think it is,” Matt said. “At least we’ll walk in the midst of loveliness. Let’s go.”
But they were only a few steps down the hill before he stopped again.
“What troubles you?” Balkis asked.
“Those flowers,” Matt said, “the red ones.”
“What of them?” Balkis looked more closely. “They are only poppies.” She frowned. “Why do I know of such?”
“A memory left over from infancy,” Matt suggested, “and they’re triggering one of mine, from childhood. They remind me of a story I once read.” He fished in his pouch and came up with the two lumps of incense the priest had given them in Samarkand. “Hold this under your nose, lass, just in case.”