"Yes, it does please me." Suettay chuckled. "And will please me for all of this day, and part of this night, I doubt not." Suddenly, her eyes blazed, and her whole countenance contorted. "Fool! To defy my will! Now will you learn the fate that befalls those who oppose Suettay! Now will you learn what it is, to die in torment!" She motioned, and pain lanced through my hands. I screamed; then, as the pain dimmed, the thought fleeted through my mind that at least I didn't have any major sins on my conscience at the moment, so I'd die Heaven-bound ...
The realization blossomed like a flower, even through the pain, and I had no doubts as to where it had come from. By myself, I wouldn't even have thought of those terms, and if I had, I would have thought that because I wasn't holier-than-thou, I couldn't have been good. But the inspiration came, and I realized that, yes, I was in a state of grace at the moment - not perfect, but I'd been doing more good works than bad - enough so that Satan had no power over me. That meant Suettay could only control me with physical force; as far as magic went, her spells were by no means unbeatable. If I could only find the right one. And if I could just get it out of my mouth.
But Suettay saw the hope rising in my face, and screamed, "Lance him!"
Pain bit through my thumbs again. This time, though, I knew it was coming, and I could grit my teeth and ride it out. I held tight to the thought of defense. My mind searched frantically through the verses I knew, rejecting anything the queen might expect, seizing the least likely:
The torturer cried out in alarm as invisible hands wrenched off his boots. A block of stone flipped itself out of the floor, and the unseen hands jammed the torturer into the dirt beneath. Then he howled with pain and fright as his arms stretched out like tree limbs. His fingers elongated like little branches, the tips bulging into buds that sprang open into flowers.
My friends shouted with delight, and the apprentices shrank back with a moan.
"Mercy!" the torturer cried. "Mercy!"
"You're welcome," I muttered. I wasn't thinking too clearly, what with all the pain.
Suettay paled, falling back a pace. I started to flounder up off the torture table, though, and the queen snapped out of her shock.
"Guards! Seize him!"
But all of a sudden, the guards were reluctant, and it gave me time to climb to my feet, searching frantically for another verse.
"Will you not seize him?" the queen ranted. "Must I turn you all into flaming brands?"
The soldiers paled and started forward.
I decided to stay with Gilbert and Sullivan.
An explosion of expanding air rocked the chamber, and there it was, a full-fledged Arabian jinn, complete with turban and beard.
"Your command, master?"
The companions and guards both stared, and somebody made a sick moan-maybe it was Suettay.
"More like a client, actually," I clarified, remembering what one tradition said happened to jinn's masters. "I'd like you to clear the guards and torturers out of this chamber, banish them to some oasis in the nearest desert. But not too lush an oasis," I added, remembering what the torturers had done to me.
"Your wish is my command." The jinn raised his hands ... And Suettay got her mouth working. Her hands twitched through the air as she recited some incomprehensible syllables-incomrehensible to me, but apparently something understood them somewhere, because when the jinn cried aloud some ancient syllables of his own and threw his hands up, the whirlwind that sprang up just as quickly died down. The jinn stared, unbelieving, then suddenly gasped and spat out a string of words, making mystic passes all around himself. His form wavered and thinned, then solidified again.
Suettay grinned, chanting again as her hands stirred the air.
"I cannot," the jinn gasped. "The sorceress moves against me! 'Tis all I can do to fend off her magics! " But I had taken time for a thinking break, and chanted,
The guards cried out as a huge, invisible hand slammed them against the wall. They crumpled to the floor, out cold.
"I cannot prevail," the jinn gasped. "I can at best withhold her might!"
"You're doing just fine," I assured him. "While you're holding her off, I'm free to work on her henchmen. Now, let's see ... a verse about torturers . . ."
Suettay's face twisted, and she snarled, "Seize her!" The apprentice torturers leapt to Angelique's body. Frisson and Gilbert struggled against their bonds, but Suettay snapped, "Hold! Move, and her spirit dies!"
I whirled to her, staring. She was holding a corked bottle over her head - and it looked to be made of very thin glass.
One of the torturers, hearing, whisked out a knife and held it to the throat of Angelique's body.
"So," I said. "When your men knocked me out, you managed to compel her ghost into a bottle."
"Why, how quickly you understand!" Suettay crooned.
"SO break it." I frowned. "All you'll do is free her ghost again."
"Nay, for I'll scream the spell as I do - and as the lady comes out from the flask, her ghost will leap to her body. Look at it! The boot is on!"
I whirled to look. Sure enough, the iron boot was clamped around one of Angelique's feet, and there were thumbscrews on each hand. I knew, with a sick certainty, that they had been there ever since she'd died. If her ghost went back in there, and the body came alive again, it would be in instant agony.
But the explanation had taken time from Suettay's spells, and the jinn shouted what sounded like an oath. A huge scimitar appeared in midair, slicing down at Suettay. The queen answered with a curse, and the huge blade winked out just before it hit her. She broke out in a sweat and snapped, "Banish him, Wizard, or the woman lives!" I was in no shape to appreciate the irony.
Neither was the jinn; he was chanting again. Suettay's face reddened, and her hands sawed the air furiously; she managed to croak a verse ...
The torturer pricked, and a drop of blood welled up on Angelique's pale throat. Frisson groaned, and Gilbert cried out in dismay. I capitulated. "Thanks, O jinn-but I'm afraid we're outflanked. Back to the place of your people, now."
The jinn cried out in relief and delight, and disappeared. Suettay wiped her forehead with a shaking hand, drew a deep breath, and forced a grin. "Now, Wizard. I believe we understand our positions."
"Not quite." My eyes narrowed. "If that slab of beef harms a hair on her head, I'll turn him into a turnip."
The torturer looked up, appalled.
"I think not," Suettay purred, "while I can prevent it."
"True. First, I'll turn you into a pig. Not that it will take much."