“Yep, and from the link that forms, Tamarin will choose a form from your mind that is most appropriate.”
“Okay, so how do I know Tamarin’s true name?” Tom asked.
“Tamarin will give it to you in your mind once you stick your hands in the golem,” Tizzy said.
“Okay, then. Do we just do it now?” Tom asked. Tamarin nodded.
Tizzy said, “Yep.”
“Okay, then,” Tom said. He gently reached forward to touch the mud golem’s torso. His claws met no real resistance as they slid into the mud golem’s body. Once inside, Tamarin nodded. Tom could definitely feel something. With his demon sight, he could see Tamarin’s aura and his own sort of intermingling at the mud golem’s body. “I, Thomas Edward Perkinje, take you, Tamarines DarNathos Parfeuesnas Deblentre, as my djinn!”
Tom felt a rush very similar to the one he had felt with Vaselle and the shamans, as well to a lesser extent the D’Orcs. Sort of a brief joint possession of each other. He had to close his eyes at the world of colors, sounds, smells, emotions, tastes and other sensations that nearly overwhelmed him.
Tom opened his eyes, realizing they were closed. He blinked and looked to find a purplish bottle in his hands instead of a mud golem.
Tom looked at Tizzy. “Where did Tamarin go?”
Tizzy pointed to the bottle. “She’s in the bottle now.”
“She is in the bottle? Tamarin is a girl? Why did you keep calling her an it?” That seemed rude.
Tizzy shook his head. “Djinn don’t have any sex. It makes no sense in their realms. When they anchor with someone on a material plane, or in this case, the Abyss, they take a form pleasing and comfortable to their new master.”
“Master?” Tom asked dubiously.
“Sort of how the anchoring rules work. Very complex,” Tizzy said, waving his upper hands dismissively.
“So Tamarin is in this rather large, purple bottle?” Tom asked.
“That is what I said.”
“So how do I get her out?”
“Remove the cork and ask her to come out. However, you might want move out of the mud. I say that simply based on the sort of clothing djinn typically wear.”
Tom sighed. “Okay, let’s go back to the main corridor.” The two walked back along the main corridor to the kitchen. Tom stopped and looked at the bottle. “Well, here we go!”
Tom pulled the rather large glass stopper from the bottle and said, “Tamarin, please come out!”
The bottle trembled and suddenly pink smoke started pouring out of the bottle. Tom suddenly had a bad feeling. If the djinn took an image from his mind...
The pink cloud grew to be about the size of a normal human and then moved beside Tom and Tizzy and hovered near the floor. The cloud began to reshape into a sort of hourglass form. The form bent over, and the next thing Tom knew, there was a very buxom, young, blonde, human woman in a pink harem outfit bowing before him.
“Master, I thank thee for releasing me from my bottle!” said Tamarin, smiling brightly and standing up straight.
Tom shook his head; there was no question of where Tamarin had gotten the image. The pink harem costume was quite revealing, but it covered her belly button. He really should not have watched so many old reruns on cable TV. Further, given the sort of problems Jeanie had caused Major Nelson, Tom was a bit worried as to what he was getting into.
Tom sat upon his short throne in the grand dining hall at the head table. Technically, this was only the second party he had ever been to, not counting any of his parent’s parties. The last one had not ended so well. Or maybe it had. He now had a pretty cool volcano to live in, an army of super-warriors, and now a genie!
Tamarin had slid a stool up to his right, between him and Darg-Krallnom. Zelda was to his left. She had looked at their newest guest rather suspiciously at first, as had Darg-Krallnom. However, Darg-Krallnom noted the purple bottle Tom was carrying and nodded. When Tamarin had whispered something in Darg-Krallnom’s ear, the D’Orc commander had laughed uproariously and slapped the table.
Tom had had so much to do, that he’d had little time to talk to Tamarin, just the time he could make between various stops on his rounds. She seemed fine with this, though, and said they could speak in more detail later. Her principal objective of anchoring had now been achieved.
Tom tried to focus on the music. The Doom Metal was pretty cool. He hoped that they were just rusty with their instruments and were not actually trying to get such an extreme, hard-core industrial sound. He supposed x-glargh would make the hard banging, clanking and shrill strings sound better. However, he would work at enjoying it sober, or as sober as possible. The D’Orcs were enjoying it, anyway, and that was what was important.
There was a clashing and banging off to his right. He looked; it was Reggie and Phaestus trying to get down a stairway out of the dining room. How had the two of them gotten so drunk so quickly? Tom wondered. Everyone was drinking now, but the pair must have started early. He shook his head in amusement. He looked for Rupert and Fer-Rog, hoping they were not drinking. He had no idea what the drinking age was in the Abyss. It probably did not come up that often, as almost everyone besides him and Rupert were vastly older than twenty-one. But ten-year-olds should not be drinking. Although, to be fair, at first Tom had planned on drinking even though he was under age, but then he had started worrying about an attack and decided to go light on the x-based beverages. He would do a few over the night, but he would try to stick to the non-x stuff. He had never had a hangover and this did not seem like a good time to start.
After a few moments, he spotted Rupert and Fer-Rog sitting over in a corner, talking and laughing. They did not appear to have any beverages with them. They were safely munching on a giant plate of cookies. Tom smiled, thinking about the fun they were probably having. When he had been ten, he and his only friend used to like to pig out on Oreos. At least Rupert might be able to have a minimally normal childhood here.
Thinking about childhood and drinking, Tom suddenly counted on his fingers. He was not really sure how long he’d been a demon. Those long periods sitting in his cave had been rather a blur, but it had to be getting close to his seventeenth birthday. When he had died, it had been less than seven weeks until his birthday. He chuckled, shaking his head. Getting his own Doompire for a birthday present was pretty cool. If only he had a candle, he could stick it in a cookie and light it.
“I think things are going well, My Lord!” Zelda yelled from her seat to his left. The song the band was playing was particularly loud at the moment.
“You did a great job, Zelda!” Tom smiled at her.
“Thank you, My Lord. I am so honored to have been able to arrange this celebration!” She grinned.
Tom reached into the Rod of Tommus to check system power levels. Things were charging quite well now, better than before. He needed to get this place self-sustaining. It was getting exhausting to feed it and deal with everything. He guessed it was a good tired, but if he stopped to think too much, he would have to curl up in a ball. He was riding a tiger at the moment; he had to hang on tight.
“What are you doing?” Farsooth GoreTusk asked Beya Fei Geist and Ragala-nargoloth as they stood at the buffet; they appeared to be trying to stuff cookies into their belt sacks.
“Have you tried these cookies?” Beya asked, looking up and back at him.
“No, why?”
“Try one!” Raga-nargoloth shoved one in his mouth. She clamped her hand over his mouth. “Don’t let any of the crumbs fall out; you will want every one of them.”