I heard the monkeys scream at almost the same moment I opened my eyes and saw shadows fall across the stone floor, each crack now distinct in the muted light of early morning. When the intruders stepped into the room, I was initially relieved to see that they were not the false princes nor anyone else I knew, but several men of Sindupore, dressed similarly to the villagers near Selima's shrine in dingy white loin cloths. On closer scrutiny, they were no less strange and far more alarming, for their brows beetled fiercely and they muttered to each other, sharp phrases and words exploding through the general hubbub now and then. Though I gathered that they were pilgrims to the skull-girded idol, their expressions bore no gentle reverence or even a reasonable degree of the practical self-absorption of the supplicant to such Yahtzeni deities as Fanya the Fertile Fodder Finder.

"Desecrated," one of them spat, and though I had the sense that his words were not spoken in any of the tongues I knew, I understood them as clearly as I did the Simurg, monkey or snake languages, no doubt through the benefit of Selima's headcloth. Perhaps because the newcomers were fellow human beings, no preliminary sniffing of the cloth on their part was required for me to understand what was in their hearts-if they possessed any.

"Indeed, indeed," said the largest among them, a hulking man whose torso and face hung with flab but whose arms and legs were corded. He smiled unamiably through a mouth devoid of teeth, and whistled most of his words. "But who would dare to desecrate the shrine of The Terrible One?"

"A fool!" another blurted, scowling at the rubble and emptiness as if it was a personal insult. "Only a fool would desecrate the shrine of the G.o.ddess of death and torture! Only a new sacrifice will redeem us."

With those words my suspicions were confirmed that despite the nubile maidens covering the temple walls, the resident G.o.ddess had nothing to do with fertility. I briefly considered a fresh application of the vanishing cream and a fast retreat, but hesitated.

"Are you volunteering, Gobind?" the husky man asked, smiling even more unpleasantly.

"To perform the sacrifice? a.s.suredly," the angry man replied. "Come, let us see if the G.o.ddess's image has been outraged."

The men crowded the door to the idol's chamber, taking turns entering and kneeling to the hideous figure. Those awaiting their turns shifted angrily and continued muttering. After a considerable time with one group wailing, cajoling, and apologizing at the idol, the groups traded places.

Those renewed by commune with their G.o.ddess milled restlessly outside the door, and I rose cautiously to the b.a.l.l.s of my feet, poised to flee into the jungle the moment every back was turned and all eyes were intent upon the new group of worshippers. Such a moment did not come.

A monkey's scream cut through the human voices, joined at once by the cries of other monkeys. Two of the waiting pilgrims detached themselves from the group and wandered over to the doorway, gazing first toward the river and then to the right before disappearing, the noise of their bare feet slapping mud and splashing through puddles following soon afterward. Just as the slappings and splashings grew faintest, they began to grow louder again and both men padded back inside, gesticulating frantically to their fellows and whispering excitedly. The expressions of the others changed from hostile boredom to active hostility, and the lot of them, including those closeted with the idol, followed the first two outside and down the path. By the time they were well away enough that I felt it safe to pop out into the jungle and follow at a discreet distance, it was too late.

They had been gone for but a heartbeat or two when from the distance came the surging voices of the angry worshippers, a m.u.f.fled curse, general scuffling noises, and a heartrendingly familiar bray.

That bray caused me to leap to my feet, my hand flying to my dagger, but I caught myself and jumped back behind the rubble just as the worshippers led the donkey and its limply flopping rider through the door. Against all probability, the donkey was indeed Aman Akbar. And his rider, when pulled down and thrown onto his back, where his bleeding head lolled upon the stones, was none other than Marid Khan.

"What shall we do with him?"

"What do you suppose? The G.o.ddess is great. She not only demands a sacrifice, but practically delivers one to us personally"

"Such a sacrifice must be performed in a special way," the husky man, who seemed to be something of a leader, said consideringly. "A very special way indeed."

The face of the one called Gobind softened into a smile of childish delight. It did not make him especially appealing. "Ahh, I think I know," he said, rubbing his hands together briskly. "You will recall the tale of the proud beauty who tried to escape her marriage to the Rajah of Kinjab on muleback?"

"No," the big man said flatly, plainly prepared to reject any idea not of his own devising.

"You'll like it," Gobind a.s.sured him. "What we do, you see, is kill the a.s.s, slit it open, stuff the desecrator inside and force his head out the a.s.s's bung hole. Then we let the flies and mosquitoes at his face, from which we will not have bothered to wipe the dung and a.s.s's blood."

"I think I may be sick," said one sensitive soul. "It's wonderful! The G.o.ddess will be very pleased. We'll kill the a.s.s upon her altar, won't we?"

"Yes, that will teach these foreigners to mess with our our G.o.ddess." G.o.ddess."

Aman brayed breathlessly, his eyes rolling and his knees trembling, his hind legs dug into stone as the worshippers tried to drag him to the altar.

I could not let them do it, whatever the cost. They should know the truth. "Wait!" I cried. "These two are not the ones who defiled your temple. Rather it was three Divs seeking to-" I got no further, of course, before I too was seized and disarmed. I expected no better, really. I was hardly such an innocent that I truly thought an appeal to justice would interest these particular pilgrims. A Yahtzeni is taught from birth that there are two kinds of people. There are our people and then there are those those people. One cannot even trust all of our people, much less any of the others. Still, I had married one of those untrustworthy outsiders, and now traveled among many others. Having gone so far, there seemed no choice but to go a step further and attempt to win over these new ones if it was possible thereby that I might preserve my lord from harm. people. One cannot even trust all of our people, much less any of the others. Still, I had married one of those untrustworthy outsiders, and now traveled among many others. Having gone so far, there seemed no choice but to go a step further and attempt to win over these new ones if it was possible thereby that I might preserve my lord from harm.

I did not change the minds of his would-be slayers, but I did delay them.

"Excellent idea, Gobind," the large fellow said, scanning me contemptuously. "But now what?"

Gobind's enthusiasm was not so easily quenched. "Why, we kill the woman too-the G.o.ddess is hungry for blood."

"I'm not a virgin," I said hopefully. "I'm a married woman."

"The Terrible One is not particular about that, being a female G.o.d," Gobind rea.s.sured me. "Your pain will be a sufficiently pleasing contribution."

Oh.

"That is all very well, Gobind," a man with a rather squeaky voice and a nervous manner said. "But we have only one donkey. Do we put him inside as we originally planned or shall we subst.i.tute her? I say watching the insects destroy a woman's face will be more entertaining than turning them loose on him."

"This is for the G.o.ddess's appeas.e.m.e.nt, not our entertainment," his friend reminded him sternly.

"If we are more entertained by one mode of sacrifice than the other, it stands to reason that the G.o.ddess will be similarly entertained," the squeaky one argued.

"What we really need is another donkey," someone else said reasonably.

"Ahh," the large one said, with leering wigglings of his black and wormlike eyebrows. "But if it is entertainment that is needed, there are far more entertaining ways of killing women than stuffing the best parts inside of beasts."

Having blundered on the side of honor enough for one day, I declined to make matters easier for them by explaining that Aman Akbar was my husband, in case they were sentimental sorts who would decide that we ought to be reunited.

They shoved me into the altar room, loading Marid Khan upon the back of Aman Akbar and pushing and pulling the pair in behind me.

"The G.o.ddess shall decide," Gobind declared, and, clashing the knife he had captured from me against his own, laid both before the idol.

"You know how she hates to be disturbed," the squeaky fellow said fearfully.

"For trivial matters only. This is her sacrifice. She shall determine the mode of death."

"Yes, only by the right and proper sacrifice can this desecration be avenged. These conquerors must learn they simply can't go about treating other people's G.o.ddesses in such a fashion."

I was out of sympathy with them completely. In fact, I didn't think they were religious fanatics at all-not sincere ones, anyway. They just liked to hurt people, but being mere villagers instead of soldiers or bandits were too respectable or cowardly to indulge their vice without some sort of religious sanction. This G.o.ddess probably was invented just to give them the license to do what we Yahtzeni have always had the courage to take upon our own heads, instead of blaming our actions upon the G.o.ds, who, as everybody who is at all honest with themselves will admit, have better things to do.

Thus I maintained a brave sneer upon my face as Gobind lit the brazier and dropped powders upon the fire and implored the idol to speak.

Thus my teeth all but fell from my gums when the G.o.ddess said, her voice echoing in properly doom-laden tones, "Grovel when you speak to your mistress, oh vile vomit of a deformed offspring of a monkey's slave and her master."

The worshippers at once and in unison groveled. If they had not been true believers before, they were instant converts. They slammed me down with them-an unnecessary gesture, for I was almost too frightened to stand. But something in that voice, for all of its stony, otherworldly overtones, was familiar.

"Is that any way to be, Terrible One, when we've brought you such nice sacrifices?" Gobind whined. "We realize you are naturally upset about the desecration of your temple but-"

"Silence! What sacrifices?"

"Why, this woman-you can see what a rare offering she is with light hair, for all that she seems uncommonly stupid. And this excellent donkey and his rider."

"How can I see them with you standing right in front of me? Have the woman stand."

My captor released my shoulders and I stood. I hoped the G.o.ddess was unacquainted with vanishing cream and its properties, for while lying on the ground, I had worked the little pot loose from my sash and had it ready.

"Turn around," the G.o.ddess commanded. I did so, thinking that this was a very fussy G.o.ddess. I was also stabbing my finger in the open ointment pot. Bringing forth a small gob, I reached out to Aman Akbar and, before those lying beside him noticed, swabbed around each of his eyes and down his muzzle. Abruptly, Marid Khan hung suspended, collapsed across thin air. None of the worshippers stopped trembling or looked up long enough to realize that they now had only two sacrifices instead of three.

"Won't do," the G.o.ddess said as I turned back toward her. "Temple desecration is most serious business. If you think I'll be pacified by a big dumb blond and a dead man, you're wrong. Nothing less than the personal sacrifice of each of your lives will please me."

"But great G.o.ddess, who will serve you if we all die-who will-"

"Enough. I have spoken."

"You have spoken," the hulking man agreed, rising suddenly. "But not with the voice of the G.o.ddess."

He was correct. The G.o.ddess spoke with the voice of Aster and, as usual, she had overdone it. I quickly dabbed around my own eyes, cheeks, and chin with another gob of ointment and with my free foot mashed the fingers holding my left ankle. I lunged and reached the crossed daggers a blink before the big man and Gobind, who crashed into the altar and each other as I sidestepped.

"For the sake of your skin, don't argue argue with her," the squeaky-voiced man cried, taking my disappearance and the fall of his companions as evidence of the G.o.ddess's wrath. with her," the squeaky-voiced man cried, taking my disappearance and the fall of his companions as evidence of the G.o.ddess's wrath.

The big man angrily shoved at the altar's trough and the entire seemingly solid stone table slid easily aside. Very tricky, these folk who dwell in towns.

"Cease!" a voice cried, whether that of the G.o.ddess Aster or one of her followers, it was hard to say, for the worshippers were clutching at the big man's knees and imploring him tearfully not to anger the G.o.ddess further. Aster's voice babbled boomily and imperiously but was lost in the melee. While everyone's attention was on the idol and altar, I groped until I found Aman and turned his head, pushing him toward the door.

As we neared the outer door, the sounds of the angry idolators dimmed just enough that the screams of the monkeys could be clearly heard. Also clearly audible was the tramp and jingle of the army approaching single file down the path to the temple. I saw a soggy silken litter just beyond the first two soldiers, who wore the uniforms of high-ranking officers in the guard of the Emir Onan. For a moment I forgot I was invisible and my heart plunged.

By the power of the headcloth, Aman Akbar understood what was in my heart and cried out to me, "Fear not for me, Rasa, my wife, but save my lovely Aster. These rabble will feel my hooves and teeth if they attempt to thwart you, for even as I have rescued you before, I will not stint to do so again, though it cost me my life."

"Fine," I said. "You may well save me from the first two, O Lord, but that is an army and you are but an a.s.s and upon your back you bear one who cannot defend himself. On the other hand, you and I are both invisible and can easily flee. Therefore, fly into the jungle while I seek to deliver Aster from the idolators within and perhaps we can bypa.s.s this situation altogether."

"Very well," he said. "I suppose no harm will come to you while your beauty is so concealed. But if you need anything-" I lost the rest in the pound of his hoofbeats, as nearby fronds parted to admit the jouncing body of Marid Khan. The head of the first soldier's horse was less than a stone's throw from the temple. I dashed back inside, bedazzled for a moment by the change in light.

Fighting my way through worshippers who fell before my knives in superst.i.tious awe, I reached the altar. The big man was prevailing, and with all his strength pulled Aster's arms, dragging her as far as her hips from the open hole. Barely visible at her trouser legs, two black hands clung to her ankles.

"Unhand me, faithless one!" Aster screeched. "Don't you people believe in human incarnations of your G.o.ds?"

They apparently did not, for none made any reply save a distinctly irreverent low snarling sound.

I dispatched the big man with a knife in his ribs and the others-or anyway, those who had survived my entrance-scrambled from the inner sanctum.

Aster slapped at Amollia's hands and Amollia released her, crawling from the hole after her. The irises of her eyes were surrounded entirely by white and she trembled. "What-who-"

Aster shrugged and adjusted her jacket. "This G.o.ddess is obviously misunderstood by her worshippers. She may be G.o.ddess of death and suffering for such swine as they, but she appears protective of her fellow females. Perhaps we should burn an offering-"

"I'll be only too happy to let you cook the next time it's safe to do so, and accept your homage in that fashion," I told her. "But for now, we must escape the Emir's army, awaiting without, and join our husband. This way!"

"Which way?" Aster demanded. "Where are you?" way?" Aster demanded. "Where are you?"

"Never mind!" I snapped. From outside came the sounds of men dismounting. "We cannot leave now by the front entrance. Quickly! The upstairs window!"

Amollia beat the rest of us and had a leg out the window before Aster and I had reached the second floor. From around the corner, near the front entrance, curt commands were spoken and vehement denials and accusations spilled forth from the G.o.ddess's rejected suitors.

Amollia hung indecisively out the window. The river was a long way down and muddy. To dive in might be to lose her life stuck in the mud. She had not seen the soldiers and so far she was not frightened enough to attempt it. She pulled her leg back and sent a sick look down at Aster, who stood on a lower step and peered out over the bottom ledge.

"Don't jump," I whispered. "I'll find something we can swing across on. Keep quiet. Stay hidden, but stay near this window."

I had once more remembered the advantage of being invisible. I didn't have to hide. I was already hidden. I could move freely among the soldiers without detection. I could spy upon them and learn their plans and leave whenever I chose. I thought I would skip the spying and stick to leaving-and quickly. But first I needed to find the monkeys.

Beyond the ruined doorway the jungle clearing was choked with milling horses and camels decked in silk and ta.s.sles, robed Kharristanis with curved blades drawn, a bright palanquin and several bearers of the same type as the men I had just vanquished.

Also those same men, or those who had retained their facilities, trembled before none other than the Emir, whose brocaded figure, spotless bejeweled turban, and well-oiled mustache and beard and whose perfume outstunk every flower in the jungle. Among the soldiers, the riffraff, and the animals, he looked awesome as a king.

I was sure this ill.u.s.trious person would have something enlightening and educational to say, but much as I wanted to eavesdrop, I declined for the moment in favor of finding a vine suitable for my co-wives to use to transport themselves across the river. So I left the soldiers and the Emir abusing the natives and wended my way deeper into the jungle, strangely quiet now. I had scanned the trees in vain for monkeys and was about to decide to try to steal something from one of the soldiers when a pointed finger tapped me on the pate and I looked up to see the wide troubled eyes and wrinkled mug of one of my erstwhile companions. Pulling forth the headcloth, which retained its smell despite its invisibility, I made my need known to that creature and together we skirted the building, selecting a vine from the wall farthest from the soldiers. The monkey then scampered up the erotic carvings and gave the vine to Amollia, who held one end for Aster while I held the other and she swung herself down and across to the wall where I stood, just above the sh.o.r.e of the river. Afterward, Amollia anch.o.r.ed the vine to one of the iron rings and slithered down to meet us.

The monkeys, more than any other creature I had occasion to deal with, had a relay of messengers, and what one monkey knew soon every monkey in that part of the jungle knew also. No sooner had Amollia arrived than a monkey delivered a vine from the far sh.o.r.e, as courteously and solicitously as a bride presenting her husband with his first meal.

Amollia put the vine in Aster's hands. "You're the lightest," she hissed.

Aster did not argue the point, but grabbed the vine and swung across. Amollia regarded the jungle behind her and to the left with great suspicion. "What are you up to, barbarian? You should go next."

"I can't," I hissed. "I have to help Aman Akbar and Marid Khan cross."

"I'll stay and help."

"You're not invisible," I said. "And I can't spare any more ointment."

"Very well. But if you aren't across in a very short time, I'm coming back after you."

"If you do, try to bring a few of Marid Khan's brigands," I suggested. "I'm not sure how much help you'll be alone."

"Your faith in me is touching."

"Go!"

The monkey messenger delivered the vine once more and she clung to it, rocking back twice before swinging smoothly across.

For the time being, Aman Akbar was safe, though how long Marid Khan would survive his injuries I knew not. Neither did I dare to make the Khan invisible, for I had very little of the ointment left and if I was to have enough to execute the plan I had for freeing us all from the Emir's schemes and those of his ally, the King of Divs, each dab would be needed. I could only hope that once the stuff was applied it would continue lending its magic properties to its wearer until rubbed away. I would need to be very careful indeed.

The Emir strode into the temple, despite the implorings of the G.o.ddess's devotees, who whimpered that the Terrible One was not in good humor today and perhaps the ill.u.s.trious one would care to inspect the temple at another time. Their solicitousness was less for the Emir than for themselves, for if anything happened to him, they feared-no doubt correctly-the guard would avenge him upon their persons. The Emir also addressed-and abused-another party, who answered with familiar oily tones.

"And what of our allies and their task, o djinn? I thought you would have my heart's delight wrapped and waiting for me here, together with the object she bears which will cause you to submit yourself to me finally so that I may have the obedience you owe me as owner of the bottle."

"Master, I know only that the two women were hanging by the hair when you summoned me and the one you desire was imprisoned and contemplating the fate of her rebellious sisters. Had I had longer to inspect the manner in which thy wishes were being attended to by those Divs, the results would have perhaps been more to thy liking. How often must I implore thee not to drag me through the cosmos so often?"

The worshippers gabbled at each other fearfully and the Emir turned to regard them sharply and said to the djinn, "It would be to our mutual advantage if this pestiferous refuse was questioned regarding what has pa.s.sed here."

"Am I to take such a remark for a wish, master?" the djinn asked slyly.

"You are to understand that it would be to our mutual advantage to learn what questioning would teach us." The Emir patted a bulge in his sash. "It would be a pity if harm should befall me through lack of knowledge and I should accidentally break break certain objects." certain objects."

The djinn sighed and looked affronted. "Hearing and obeying." Rapidly, he questioned the men.

Gobind answered with a question. "Ah, mighty one, is it by your design and the design of your exalted master that imps destroyed our sacred carvings and loosed upon us the demon woman who posed as our G.o.ddess and her phantom servant?"

"It was not," the djinn replied, "but both myself and my exalted master would be most edified to hear what you have to say regarding these manifestations."

Gobind supplied him with a false and unflattering version of what had happened.

The djinn relayed the information to the Emir, who considered for a moment, then said, "Tell them that the apparitions they have seen are wily demonesses loosed upon them by an unscrupulous fisherman. Tell them that these demonesses have stolen from me an object of much value."