Matt had heard similar words from other and less friendly people. All in all, he liked the parent djinns’ version better.
Lakshmi seemed to have sustained the worst of the firefight, so Marudin chanted the spell that took them all to a cave in the mountains that divided the fertile land from the desert. There, he and Matt left Lakshmi to take care of the children—there was no way she would have left them for any reason—and left Balkis to take care of Lakshmi. Riding in the crook of the prince’s arm, Matt watched the countryside reel by below until they saw Maracanda with Prester John’s army surrounding it. If the barbarians had tried to stop him outside the gates, they had given it up quickly, for they were all inside and manning the walls—perhaps a quarter as many as John had soldiers. Still, the walls were stout, and the Mongols and Turks were fighting bravely—but as Matt and Marudin watched, a hundred of John’s men galloped up to the wall, slowly raising their shields until they held them as umbrellas, deflecting the rain of arrows and stones until they stood directly in front of the gates. Some of them fell in the advance, but most lived, protecting their king with their shields.
The barbarians began to roll huge steaming kettles into place.
“They must break through that gate, and quickly, or they will be boiled!” Marudin said.
“John said he had a key …” Matt stared. “He did!”
The gates flew inward, and John led his vanguard through. A third of them fell to Mongol arrows. The other two-thirds rode bravely against two hundred Turks—but the rest of John’s army came on at the gallop.
They boiled into the city and overwhelmed the Turks quickly. Then they rode on, leaving a circle of captives bound and kneeling, surrounded by a guard of John’s men.
They rode on toward the palace—but as they neared it, a circle of fire roared up around it almost as high as its roofs.
“They shall have more difficulty in winning the palace than in gaining the city!” Marudin predicted.
“Yeah, Arjasp is pulling out all the magical stops.” Matt frowned.
“We must aid Prester John!”
“Nice thought.” Matt was developing an idea. “Say, Prince Marudin—you don’t suppose Arjasp took the time to transport his brooch back to him, do you?”
Marudin looked down at him in surprise, then grinned. “Why should we doubt it?”
“It’s worth a try,” Matt said.
Marudin recited an Arabic verse. As the pink mist closed about them he said in disgust, “I never thought I would seek to send myself back inside a prison!”
“Yes,” Matt said, “but this time we have the key.” He recited,
He took a step through the mist—and found himself falling.
CHAPTER 31
Matt barely managed to choke off a shout of surprise and fright. He was falling toward huge blocks of granite—but they were growing smaller even as he fell. He managed to swing his feet below him, landed in a crouch, and stood up slowly, realizing that he was growing as he straightened.
Beside him, Marudin touched down, then began to grow, too.
Matt looked about him. The first thing he saw was the brooch, hanging by a chain in front of a stone wall. He looked down and saw stone flags, an open window, stone walls curving in a circle, and shelves upon shelves of books and jars. In the center of the room was a huge ring of sand, and to one side stood a long table cluttered with retorts, alembics, bell jars, and other alchemical apparatus.
He was in Arjasp’s laboratory, where the renegade magus worked his most serious magic.
Arjasp was at the table now, flipping pages in a huge old tome and muttering to himself as he tried to find a spell that would stop Prester John.
“Don’t bother,” Matt told him. “You’ve lost this one already.”
Arjasp looked up at him and turned deathly pale, which contrasted nicely with his midnight-blue robes. In fact, his face almost faded into the long white beard and longer white hair.
Matt seized the initiative while he had it. He also seized his wand, pointing it at the renegade magus and chanting,
As soon as he began to chant, Arjasp spat out a verse—but Marudin shouted him down, bellowing a counterverse in Arabic. Arjasp tried another in a voice more frantic, which rose into a scream as he suddenly shot across the room toward the brooch, shrinking as he went. His voice rose in pitch past a shriek to a whine, then an oppression on the ears as he shrank to the size of a fly and plunged into the pink surface.
Matt wiped away sweat with a trembling hand. “Thanks for the protection, Marudin.”
“My pleasure,” said the prince, gloating at revenge.
Matt glanced at him and shuddered, looking away. “Do you suppose we can find a jeweler who can cut the Seal of Solomon into that quartz?”
“It should be simplicity itself,” Marudin assured him, “and if you cannot, be assured that I can.”
“Oh?” Matt looked up in surprise. “You know what the seal looks like?”
Marudin turned to him with a sardonic smile. “Wizard, if anyone knows that seal, I do!”
Come to think of it, it had been a pretty dumb question.
The reunion with Alisande was touching and brief. The children did most of the touching, to the point at which they had to be pried loose when it was time for Mama to go—and it had to be brief because Mama was raging to go back to join the Caliph’s forces and get in her licks of revenge on the barbarians. Her knights were just as eager, but by the time they got to Damascus, Tafas and the Caliph had chased the barbarians back to Baghdad, and by the time they reached Baghdad, the allies had chased the steppe-horsemen halfway to Maracanda. They were nearing the city’s walls when the Caliph caught up with them.
It was quite a sight, and Matt was aloft with Marudin and Lakshmi to direct his magic wherever it was needed. The barbarian sorcerers were putting up some resistance, but their power was tremendously weakened—apparently Arjasp had been their source, or conduit, if he actually had managed to tap the energy of the Prince of Lies.
The battle-line turned gradually into a bow as Tafas and Alisande outflanked the barbarians and started pushing in. The bow bent farther and farther, but the barbarians managed a counterattack, and the bow developed recurves. The recurves deepened, and for half an hour it looked as though the barbarians might actually manage to hold their ground.
Then troops came riding around the city walls to take the barbarians in the rear, troops with Prester John at their head.
Matt stared down. “He sure finished off Arjasp’s reinforcements from the east fast!”
“He caught them at a pass in the Tien Shan Mountains.” Lakshmi, quite happy with Balkis as babysitter, had left her cave and gone east to see if her help had been needed. She shrugged. “It was brief and bloody, but most of the barbarians had the good sense to surrender.”
“And Prester John marched his army halfway across Asia in a month.” Matt shook his head in admiration.