"I suppose it does look a little unusual," she replied. "But it's a sort of beauty treatment. Makes their hair grow longer. I may try it later but right now I'm readying myself for my wedding. I was just practicing the song and dance I intend to perform for the King on our wedding night. I shall wear this very outfit too. Do you like it?" There was very little of it and quite a lot of her to be seen but I nodded. She hardly noticed the nod, but once more inspected herself critically, including the ends of her silky curls, which she tossed back over her shoulder as if rejecting them before staring at me, her lower lip protruding. "Why is your hair that color? Are you very old? The only one of the King's wives with hair that pale is quite ancient. You are a frightful mess but you don't look that old."

"I am not old," I said in roughly the same tone of voice the bitiger had a.s.serted that it was not an aborted set of twins, "I am Yahtzeni."

"Oh. What's that? Is it good or bad?"

"Goo... we're shepherds, warriors, traveling people from across many seas and mountains. Very far away but we don't live so differently from some of your folk except," I nodded to the women bound by their hair, going about their business as if they were one of the shadow plays Aster produced with her clever hands on the walls at night before Fatima's lamp was blown out, "that Yahtzeni men haven't so many wives." I started to add that we didn't have as many men either but her curiosity was quite sated and her vanity aroused.

"Our men don't have all that many either, usually-only four, if they can afford it. And they always always love one the best-usually the youngest and prettiest." She smiled, dimpling, just in case I missed guessing who that person was in this household. "Only very important officials and kings, like my fiance, the King of Divs (He's said to call him Sani but I do think that's improper before we're married, don't you?) can have so many. But these others, why, he doesn't care a fig for them." She waved her delicate little hand with its long hennaed nails and fingers full of rings dismissingly at the women behind her. love one the best-usually the youngest and prettiest." She smiled, dimpling, just in case I missed guessing who that person was in this household. "Only very important officials and kings, like my fiance, the King of Divs (He's said to call him Sani but I do think that's improper before we're married, don't you?) can have so many. But these others, why, he doesn't care a fig for them." She waved her delicate little hand with its long hennaed nails and fingers full of rings dismissingly at the women behind her.

"Obviously," I said. "Still, I suppose at one time he must have."

"Oh, I don't think so. They're all political alliances. You know, that one over there is the one I was telling you about, was the last one he had that was anything like a favorite. She's a princess of the Peris-they're these most awfully odd magical folk from the other side of the mountains. Have you ever seen hair striped in colors like that? And her eyes are strange too. Sani says Peris live for hundreds of years and he just got tired of hearing how much older and wiser she was. But then, her father helped him overthrow his father so he could win the throne. I suppose he let her get away with it for sentimental reasons."

"A moment, please," I said. "I thought the king of this land was a young boy. Are we not still within the realm of the same Shah who rules both Bukesh and Kharristan?"

"Certainly. We're not far from Bukesh at all-but Adar Shah is King of Tamurians only. He has no control over the Divs." She sounded quite superior about it, as if she were already queen.

"But please," I said, "what are Divs?"

"You are are foreign, aren't you?" foreign, aren't you?"

I kept my mouth shut and my eyes trained upon her face, the soft shadows licking across it with the ebb and flow of the rosy light. I refrained from remarking that if she were to be carried off to our gra.s.slands by one of our demons she'd be just as foreign there as I was here.

"Divs," she said, "are simply the most wonderful things there are-at least most of them, and I don't need to worry about the others because I'll be their queen and they wont dare trouble me. They can change themselves into any form at all. You should see the handsome one Sani-His Majesty-has chosen to marry me in."

"But that's not unusual around here, is it?" I asked. "I know a djinn who does the same thing."

"You must be mistaken," she said firmly. "Djinns cannot turn into something that is not already in existence, the way Divs can. They are only able to occupy existing forms. Djinns never never create forms." create forms."

"How knowledgeable you are for one so young!" I replied. I wanted to wring her conceited little neck but I had begun to realize who she was and that I would need her help, not only now but later.

"I think every bride should share her husband's interests. I mean, once I'm queen, I'm sure to be expected to help out with the ruling, because Sani can scarcely bear to be parted from me and well, just between the two of us... I have lately felt the urgings of my royal blood-my real real heritage, telling me how a few matters around here should be conducted. I used to think I was a peasant, you know, and raised by peasants, and my friend the Emir of Kharristan did say often when he came to me for advice and comfort that I certainly had the common touch-but now, Sani calls me his princess and I feel sure that he, with his magical powers, knows something." heritage, telling me how a few matters around here should be conducted. I used to think I was a peasant, you know, and raised by peasants, and my friend the Emir of Kharristan did say often when he came to me for advice and comfort that I certainly had the common touch-but now, Sani calls me his princess and I feel sure that he, with his magical powers, knows something."

She admired herself in the mirror she had held up to me and was obviously pleased by the contrast. The little round mirrors attached to the strip of rose silk barely covering her ample bosom sparked light around the room as she turned to catch herself at different angles in the mirror. She smiled fondly at her reflection. "He also calls me Akasma, the climbing rose." She giggled. "I think he means something naughty by that, but I don't mind. It's pretty, anyway. You can't imagine what a trial it is to have a mother who insists on naming you something awful like Hyaganoosh. Can't you just hear people snickering if they call me 'Queen Hyaganoosh'?" Then she sighed. "All the same, I wish my mother were here to see me now. Not that the Emir hasn't been wonderful to me since I was orphaned-I suppose he did did feel responsible since it was his soldiers who accidentally ran my parents down while changing the guard. It made my Aunt Samira very bitter against poor Onan and she didn't like it when I went to live with him, I know, but she could scarcely feed herself and that lazy, daydreaming cousin of mine. She thought I should marry him, but between you and me, mama always told me I could do better. Not that Aman's not well-favored, you understand, but he never brought me nice presents like Onan and Sani." feel responsible since it was his soldiers who accidentally ran my parents down while changing the guard. It made my Aunt Samira very bitter against poor Onan and she didn't like it when I went to live with him, I know, but she could scarcely feed herself and that lazy, daydreaming cousin of mine. She thought I should marry him, but between you and me, mama always told me I could do better. Not that Aman's not well-favored, you understand, but he never brought me nice presents like Onan and Sani."

Maybe the presents were to keep her quiet so they could contemplate her charms in peace. Her tendency to chatter was every bit as p.r.o.nounced as Aster's. Despite the disastrous consequences of his failure, I was glad Aman had not succeeded in winning her. Two such tongues in one household would be enough to drive everyone else into the desert. At least she talked to me, which perhaps meant she liked my company. And why not? I had given her no cause not to. The way I looked at the moment I was certainly no compet.i.tion for her, and the obliviousness of the other women would be a great trial to this self-proclaimed paragon. Ears into which she could pour her chatter were more than welcome and since I needed to gain her goodwill without revealing too much, listening seemed the safest course.

"Would you have married your cousin if he had been rich enough to give you presents too?"

"He couldn't be as rich and powerful as Sani, could he? And he can't change forms-" She broke off to t.i.tter behind her hand. "At least, not by himself. Oh, Aman is such a buffoon! Do you know he crept into my private chambers when I lived with the Emir and gave me a lamp he claimed was magic? I didn't believe him, but I was so annoyed at him for endangering my position with the Emir that I called him an a.s.s and-and something funny happened. Onan was coming and while I was looking for a place to hide Aman, he disappeared, but there was an a.s.s right there in my garden!"

"Do you suppose that was your cousin?"

"Oh, no, how could it have been? Why, if I'd turned her precious son into an a.s.s, I would have heard my Aunt Samira screaming all the way from her house on the other side of Kharristan! No, no. I've been told of such things, but that's not possible, is it?" Her pretty brow wrinkled with the strain of thought. "I mean, Sani is someone different. He is a genuine magic person. So, of course, what he he does is real, but Aman with a genie and a magic lamp? No. I do not think so. Nevertheless, I gave the lamp to Onan for safekeeping. What if that genie crawled out of his bottle when I was asleep and tried to molest me?" does is real, but Aman with a genie and a magic lamp? No. I do not think so. Nevertheless, I gave the lamp to Onan for safekeeping. What if that genie crawled out of his bottle when I was asleep and tried to molest me?"

"Oh, you handled it properly," I said. "Very cunning. By giving the bottle to the Emir, you earned his grat.i.tude as well, no doubt."

The smooth brow puckered further and the little mirrors shimmered with agitation as her wide brown eyes clouded with a hint of the anxiety a lamb with any measure of intelligence should feel upon entering a wolf's den. "Ye-es, except he wondered where I got it. That was when he decided I'd be happier here with Sani, and should come here to await the wedding instead of remaining with him-" She broke off, blinking ingenuously at me. "But you poor thing! Look at you! Starved and dirty and tired, and here I am going on about all the wonderful things happening to me."

I was so predisposed against her by this time that I decided she was not really being thoughtful but was merely disinclined to continue talking about a subject which made her uncomfortable, and grasped at any straw to change it. Whatever the reason, if indeed she had any, she reached behind her, picked up a small padded stick and struck a round bronze gong.

"We'll all have something to eat. It can be a party! But-don't you think you should wash first? There's a pool over in the corner, behind the striped-haired Peri. And perhaps you should remain inconspicuous while the servants are here. Sani doesn't really like visitors."

"I gathered," I said, thinking of the bitiger, and rose to wend my way through the ring-bound women to the pool, where I made myself at once presentable and less noticeable to the servants, who turned out to be large black spiders who scuttled into the room with trays on their backs.

"What are those?" I asked. I did not expect an answer for the talking among the women had neither ceased nor slackened. The Peri princess, however, had not been talking. She had been watching me in her own mirror while I washed my face and all other modestly available flesh before ducking my head to rinse the blood and sweat from my hair and scalp. The calculating gaze with which she now favored me caused me to wonder at Hyaganoosh's bland a.s.sumption that only the servants would report my presence. Why worry about spiders when there were jealous, deposed wives with which to concern herself?

"That," the Peri replied, pointing to one of the spiders scuttling toward us, "is my sister, Pinga. She wasn't beautiful enough to marry King Sani after he disposed of his old ally, our father, so he froze her into that shape and condemned her to serve as a slave. He does likewise with all of the less well-favored female relatives of his defeated rivals. He claims the spider's shape is a more useful one for women of unpleasing aspect, and as spiders they are less p.r.o.ne to servant's gossip. Unless, of course, he turns them back into their human shape long enough to question them." And with this she gave me a significant glance out of eyes that were clear and faceted as diamonds and reflected all of the colors in the room. Then, quietly, she stepped in front of me and stooped to receive a plate of fruit and cakes from one of the trays before the spider crawled along to the next woman.

When all of the women had been served, the spiders arranged themselves and their trays in a sort of honor guard around Hyaganoosh, who busily popped mutton chunks into her mouth and licked her fingers.

The Peri sighed and shook her head slightly. "How long it has been since I was as wise as that!"

I said, "Urn," through a mouthful of apple, which gave me an excuse not to say more.

The Peri, however, was not in need of information from me, as she soon demonstrated. "So. Your husband is still an a.s.s," she said, watching with a sidelong glance as I choked on my apple.

"How did you know about that?"

"Who do you think was Highest Highness before our little climbing rose came along? Any magic requiring shape-shifting to an unprefabricated body requires our our help, you know. That trick your friend the djinn did may have looked so fast to mortals that dark-eyes over there missed it altogether, but actually, he had to send a message through the ethers requesting permission and filling out the proper forms before he could so much as add a hair to your husband's tail. I myself was accustomed to taking care of such matters, to spare Sani's energies for more important affairs. You see how grateful he was!" She reached up and tugged the combined blue and green stripes of her hair so that the iron ring to which it was bound creaked against the stone ceiling. "But then, Sani always resented my administrative talent. In a few months' time I will have no thought for the statecraft I learned at my father's knee, along with flying and vanishing. I'll be as oblivious as these other poor drudges. The ring does that to one after a while. With all magic gone, all interest in anything beyond the self goes too." help, you know. That trick your friend the djinn did may have looked so fast to mortals that dark-eyes over there missed it altogether, but actually, he had to send a message through the ethers requesting permission and filling out the proper forms before he could so much as add a hair to your husband's tail. I myself was accustomed to taking care of such matters, to spare Sani's energies for more important affairs. You see how grateful he was!" She reached up and tugged the combined blue and green stripes of her hair so that the iron ring to which it was bound creaked against the stone ceiling. "But then, Sani always resented my administrative talent. In a few months' time I will have no thought for the statecraft I learned at my father's knee, along with flying and vanishing. I'll be as oblivious as these other poor drudges. The ring does that to one after a while. With all magic gone, all interest in anything beyond the self goes too."

"You cannot help us then?" I asked.

"No. Even if I were free of this accursed iron and enjoyed Sani's trust once more, I could not change the wish. She who invoked it must-"

"I know, I know. Everybody seems agreed about that. I was just leading up to asking for her help when she called for the spi-excuse me, your sister and her fellow captives. But actually, I only stopped long enough to get directions back to the hunting lodge where Aster and Amollia and I met some-" I looked into the faceted eyes, which were politely waiting for me to finish another story their owner already knew well. "-Divs," I finished lamely. "You know about that too?"

She smiled smugly. "I have my spies."

"Then you will understand that I must see to that situation first," I said.

"You may have another problem, if you linger too long. If Sani returns and finds you here, here you will remain," she eyed me critically, "possibly as a spider. I do not know how you got past the bitiger, but dealing with Sani and the honor guard accompanying him to meet Emir Onan will be no piece of halva, believe me. You will not be so lucky as to find them out next time."

"Perhaps I can sneak past them."

"Impossible. A thousand gongs would gong and a thousand nightingales would cry out in the barracks even if you manage to work your wiles on the bitiger again. I developed the security system myself."

"Can you not help me?"

"I could," she said. "If I thought it would be worthwhile. And if I thought my help would be enough to keep you from bungling it anyway. You have no idea how vicious Sani can be when betrayed. I'm an immortal. Spending the rest of my life being tortured is therefore even less appealing to me than most, and while I am bound to this ring I cannot properly defend myself."

"I could cut your hair loose of the ring," I said.

"Umm-yes, I suppose you could. However, it would not serve," she replied, squatting beside a low table, upon which were pots, jars, sticks and bottles full of cosmetics. She began drawing lines around her eyes and offered me the pot when she had finished to her satisfaction. "Here, you could use a little color."

I thought that such severe shadow would only give one of my pallid appearance a corpselike aspect and declined. "Why would it not serve?"

"Because in my hair is half my power, and if you cut it you would be debilitating me even as the ring now debilitates me. You might as well cut off my arms."

I started to remind her that while her hair would grow and she could regain her power, she would steadily lose it while she was tied to the ring. But what did I know of Peri hair? No alternative solution to her problem or my own suggested itself. I watched in silence as she rouged her cheeks and lips and then paused, the rouge pot halfway to her cheek, her index and little finger extended stiffly as she froze. Throughout the caverns, the distant sound of gongs and bird songs echoed and the bitiger roared in greeting. The life which had drained from the Peri's face quickly returned and she dropped her rouge pot and s.n.a.t.c.hed up another, thrusting it at me. "Follow my directions exactly or we are all doomed."

It was almost worth the danger to see the smugness melt from Hyaganoosh's face to be replaced by a frantic searching stare as her much-praised eyes first sought me among the other women and then darted back to the place in the stone wall where the slab would slide away at her fiance's bidding.

Both the Peri and I had meanwhile been busy coating my face with the ointment. This, as it turned out, was a special Peri-formulated vanishing cream that caused those not bound to iron rings to vanish. It was convenient and economical, because though the jar was small, one needed only to coat the face to have everything vanish. When the cream had done its work, the Peri called to a spider and, with some fumbling, refilled my invisible foodbag from the tray. The spider, still facing Hyaganoosh, must have thought the Peri's appet.i.te had suddenly become ravenous from the rapid fashion in which the tray lightened.

No sooner had the spider scuttled back into place when the wall opened again, and the light of three additional torches illuminated Hyaganoosh in all of her guilty confusion. The other women were thrown, as I would have been had I been visible, into deep shadow.

The King of Divs was likewise streaked with shadow, but as I very discreetly slipped past him I could see that he was not in one of his more attractive aspects that evening. His head bore a ruff of orange fur around it, his nose resembled a boar's snout, complete with tusks, and his hands those of a large monkey.

Hyaganoosh cringed as he advanced on her, the gap widening between his guards and himself providing me with the opportunity to gain the corridor, where I paused to listen through the open doorway.

"So," the King said in a voice held with iron strength to low, soft tones, "has my little poppet been lonely while I've been away? Making friends with outsiders? Are not all of the women of my harem company enough for you?"

"But-but-your own guardian brought her here, Your Majesty. I a.s.sumed she came with your permission."

"Where is she?"

"I slew her, Sani," the Peri answered from her corner, her voice sounding efficient and housewifely. "I am glad to know you concur, but you mustn't disturb yourself so. Naturally, as always, I see to it that your household is well-run in your absence. You can't expect a mere mortal girl to perform the tasks of one of us."

"And how, my sweet, did you manage to slay her with none of your powers?"

"I poisoned her food-even mortals may do so though it requires the wit to think of it." She looked pointedly at Hyaganoosh.

"And the body?"

"Pinga disposed of it."

Hyaganoosh gulped and nodded. I stood without, my wet hair causing me to shiver slightly in the drafty cavern corridor, and wondered which way to run. Hyaganoosh seemed to be wondering the same thing the last time I glimpsed her. The King stroked her cheek and hair and asked his treasure to forgive his harshness. His treasure looked up at him with an emotion more sensible than admiration-fear.

And at that moment the bitiger's single head rounded the corner, its growl plainly saying, "Ah, that lovely smell again. But where?"

I possess, as does any warrior of a wandering people, an unfailing sense of direction. I did not take the wrong path accidentally. But the headcloth-intoxicated tiger blocked the entry hall and the King and his guard blocked the harem, the only other room with which I was familiar. Short of abandoning Selima's useful headcloth to confound the bitiger, there was little I could do but seek to evade both situations and find another exit. This almost cost me not only my freedom but my life, for the cavern was a veritable maze of pa.s.sages, and had I gotten lost within them, I might have perished before finding my way out. But like the entry hall, the pa.s.sages were illuminated with a pervasive green glow, and though I was most puzzled to find myself in locations where I had never previously been, I was not lost.

Quite the contrary, for the G.o.ds were obviously with me-or if not the G.o.ds, Fatima's advice. Bewildered by the forks and side pa.s.sages, possessing no knowledge that made one way any more reasonable or safe course to follow than any other way, I recalled the holy woman's admonition to turn right, and did so each time I had a choice. Therefore I suppose you could not truly say that it was by luck alone I came upon the tunnel opening into the starlit grove.

I stood for a moment in the pa.s.sageway, catching my breath and surveying the scene before me. The grove was cupped in a small meadow in the palm of surrounding peaks, roofing the hindermost portions of the Div's palace. That this was the orchard of which Fatima had spoken was obvious at once from the faint lemon scent perfuming the chilly indigo night. The trees were ancient, huge, twisted with pale oblongs dotting the heavily leafed branches. Several of the branches drooped low enough that with a good jump I should be able to dislodge a lemon without much problem.

But suddenly in the pa.s.sage behind me I heard an eight-pawed thump and a prowling growl. The bitiger had found my trail. Abandoning thoughts of pilfering lemons for the time being, I sprinted to the right, scrambling up a short steep incline beyond which threaded a downhill path. This I followed, running along it, sure that at every moment I would be devoured by one head and my carca.s.s distributed evenly between two ma.s.sive striped bodies.

But when I halted what seemed miles later, stomach churning, heart thumping, arms and legs too limp to sustain so much activity from the mid-section, no sounds of pursuit followed me. I hid behind a tree, wondering how to surprise the beast: leap upon its back and strangle it when it came near me again? Bribe it with a piece of the cloth? With such clear-cut and brilliantly thought out tactics, I was doubly fortunate that the beast never reappeared. The path led me down through low hills, angling, but never again forking, eastward of the Simurg's nest and the cave below it, into the jungle.

I plunged into the greenery, my feet squishing through the mud from the afternoon rain, leaving, as I had left all along, very visible tracks. I winced inwardly but wasn't about to go back and cover them. The Divs had been told I was dead and would not be looking for me and even the bitiger had apparently given up. Valiantly, I squished onward.

I did not cease putting distance between myself and the palace of the Divs all that night. At times the trees blocked the starlight, concealing the path. But the forks were for the most part clearly marked, and I always turned right. Toward morning the rain began in earnest again, soaking me. I tucked the headcloth carefully away, for fear that if it were washed by the rain, it would lose some of its precious stench. Its protective presence was the one source of comfort that sustained me-well, that and the food.

I was not to remain alone for long. Despite my precautions, the headcloth grew sufficiently moist to transmit fumes which soon won for me quite a following.

Though I intended to keep walking all night, the sky was still dark above the leaf cover when I dragged my right foot after my left foot a final time and collapsed, unable to move any longer. My eyes were so blurred from lack of sleep that I could no longer make out the path and began to fear I might lose it, and with it my life and the lives of Amollia and Aster, if indeed they still lived, and the humanity of Aman Akbar.

On the other hand, the thought occurred to me that while I was armed with the headcloth, the ointment and the knowledge of Hyaganoosh's whereabouts, I could leave the others to whatever fate had doubtlessly already claimed them and free Aman Akbar myself. To do so I would need only to persuade the animals to help me find him, whereupon I would smear him with the ointment and deliver him to Hyaganoosh, who could change him from an invisible donkey to an invisible man with the help of... Wait! Hyaganoosh was not a witch. I'd need the lamp-still in the Emir's possession-and the stopper-still in Aster's-and while I might be able to use the ointment to obtain those items, the longer I thought, the more I wished I had Aster and Amollia to talk things over with.

Not that Aster would let anybody else talk. Still, her chatter made a nice background noise while a person thought. And she was clever. So was Amollia. I, on the other hand, was feeling distinctly unclever. And if I rescued Aman Akbar single-handed, while he would be grateful and loving enough for a while, in time he would probably elect to marry other women and I would be back where I started. Better, as we had decided with the Divs, to keep our household together. Loyalty prompted such a choice. And honor. And the sealed cork in Aster's sleeve. With all of this in mind, I finally fell asleep.

The monkeys woke me, pulling at my food bag. I was apparently no longer invisible. I seemed to have rubbed the ointment from my face during the night. But other than the hairy-handed thieves busy robbing me of the food I had stolen, I was alone. I s.n.a.t.c.hed the bag back and the boldest monkey chattered angrily at me, flinging its skinny arms in the air and stomping its feet. When this behavior failed to cow me, it slung itself down on its haunches and looked up appealingly at me with round, betrayed eyes while the fingers of one paw picked timidly at the bottom of the bag. A great many other monkeys crouched or hung in trees nearby, watching me carefully.

"I can't feed all of you," I told the one picking at the food bag. "If I do then I'll have nothing to eat. There are too many of you."

Immediately the monkey turned its back on me and began chattering angrily at its companions, who fled into the trees-at least for the time being. I offered it a nut, which it held to its mouth and nibbled in a dainty fashion. It was not truly hungry, I understood, but had merely wanted to try cajoling me to see what it could obtain. This was made clearer when the little beggar next began fingering the gold bracelet that was Aman Akbar's wedding gift. There I drew the line.

One by one, its companions flitted back to me, demanded a treat and fled again when it wasn't forthcoming. Thus accompanied, I traveled for two more days. While the monkeys were more pesky than protective, they were company. When the road forked right, we followed that path and where it forked left, we continued straight ahead. At one point, the trees were crushed away from the path and broken, as if under some great weight, and we had to climb over them. All the while it seemed to me that we were traveling in quite the opposite direction from the "hunting lodge" and yet, somehow, twilight of the second day brought us to the river bank opposite it.

The lodge had undergone some alterations. The doorway had been smashed open. Several of the carved hoydens had also suffered dismemberment.

The sight of it, broken and to all appearances empty, left me feeling much as it looked-empty, remote, detached. I sat down on the river bank and just a short distance along the sh.o.r.e saw the mud move and fall slithering into the water. Once in, the mud slab twisted itself and opened to reveal a line of jagged but deadly teeth. A monkey high above me on an overhanging tree limb chittered its reproach.

On the opposite sh.o.r.e, another monkey flashed through the thin overhang and a line dropped from the top of one of the larger trees, a small brown body clinging to it. The monkeys accompanying me had often chosen this mode of travel. The vine swung across and the monkey dropped to my feet, its paw still clutching the vine. I understood that I was to take it, and did so, tugging hard to test my weight upon it. The eyes of the great lizard stared at me with lazy watchfulness. If the vine broke or I lost my grip, I'd get more than a quick bath.

Walking backwards for several steps, I jumped up, grabbing the vine as close to its top as I could, which wasn't far, and swung out across the river-well, almost across the river. Before I reached the far bank, the vine slowed, fell back, and hung over the center of the stream. The big lizard blinked. The d.a.m.ned vine wouldn't budge one way or the other, no matter whose curses I called down upon it. I was debating about whether or not to try climbing it to reach the overhanging branch from which it hung when the rescue party arrived. Several monkeys on another vine slammed into me from behind, nearly loosening my hold but ultimately knocking me onto the opposite sh.o.r.e. My legs refused to support me for a moment afterward and I watched numbly as the lizard's porcine eyes stared wistfully at where I had hung. The water running off the creature's head made it look as if it were weeping. I was not heartbroken by its disappointment.

Despite the building's deserted appearance, I approached cautiously, a.s.sessing the size of the holes and the position of the rubble-which seemed to have exploded into rather than out of the doorway. The monkeys grew quiet too, and peered anxiously into the hole. But none of them offered to accompany me.

So I did what the women of my people do best and simply walked forward, as if I were leading the sheep to pasture or striking out for the next camp.

Plenty of rain and dusky light poured in through the newly enlarged doorway. The rugs, candles, pillows, tapestries, trays of food, all were gone. Remaining was nothing but cold stone floor, weeds sprouting in the cracks. The shadows in the corners moved and once, just beyond the corner of my eye, a long fat tail whipped away and into a wall. A bit of wind and dust agitated itself into a dust devil and spun across the floor. A ghost of candle smoke lingered near the walls, despite the brisk wash of rainy smell.

One of the connecting doors hung half open and I kicked it aside.

Narrow stone steps clung to an inside wall. At the top of them, a small circular room was pierced by light from a window. Outside the window, a latticed screen flapped back and forth, banging against the wall, its fitful noise uncoordinated with the ring of iron on stone. I stooped and glanced through the opening at the rusting rings, groaning on their chains. The ends of my braids were still attached to one of them. I stretched to my full length and grabbed at my sodden hair, pulling the ring toward me. Struggling with the wet strands, I unknotted and detached every one of my hairs from that ring. Not that I thought I could use my hair again, but with all of the witchery abounding in this land and the quant.i.ty of it that had been loosed against my new family, it would have been extremely unwise to let items such as my hair, nails or less delicate personal sheddings lay around where my enemies could find them. Most of the enemies in question were so powerful they had no need of such items to damage me as sorely as they pleased, but there was no sense making it any easier for them than I had to. Stiff and soaked, I withdrew from the window. Below, the gray-brown river rushed past.

The rest of the room was as barren as the one below and I couldn't help wondering what its function was, other than as a platform for tormenting hair-hung women.

Returning to the main floor, I tried the door in the center of the back wall. A many-limbed idol clad only in a girdle of skulls dominated the room. A brown-stained stone altar with a convenient surrounding trough lay in front of the idol. The rain evaporated from my skin leaving a cold, goose-flesh chill. I touched the altar and examined my fingertips. No blood came away on them. The stains were old then. With blood on my mind, I returned to the main room and noticed for the first time the gore flecking the walls, causing the voluptuous stone maidens to look as if they'd been brawling.

The monkeys waited in the rain. I would find no tracks after all this time, I felt sure, and though this place-a temple certainly-made my spine crawl, it was the first shelter I'd encountered in days. I slept inside the doorway, but out of sight, behind one of the rubble piles. Using the headcloth, I asked the monkeys to warn me of anyone approaching. They wanted to know when I would return their various favors with more rice b.a.l.l.s and fruit.

Chapter 11.

Marid Khan and Aman Akbar must have come while I slept, sometime during the night. Only two of the monkeys had seen fit to remain alert, and even with them shrieking at the top of their little lungs, it took some time to alert me. I had needed that sleep. Though I had some company in the shelter of the rubble, even the vermin were animals, and as such honored the scent of Saint Selima.