The Amulet of Samarkand

of its former dimensions. The humming of its obscene energy was loud in my feline ears, but there was still a healthy gap between me and the walls. The woman snapped her nails, and the rate of shrinking slowed dramatically.
    "Fascinating..." She spoke to Sholto. "In a time of crisis, it becomes a desert cat. Very Egyptian. This one's had a long career, I think." Now she turned back to me. "The orb will continue to shrink, demon," she said. "Sometimes fast, sometimes slow. Eventually it will reach a single point. You will be observed continuously, so if at any time you wish to speak, you need only to say so. Otherwise, farewell."
    In reply, the cat hissed and spat. That was as articulate as I could get right then.
    The flagstones turned and descended to their original positions. Sholto and the woman returned to the arch and were swallowed by the portal. The seam closed up and the wall was as before. Eagle-beak and Bull-head resumed their marching. The deathly white lines of the orb hummed and glowed and closed in imperceptibly.
    The cat curled on the top of the column and wrapped its tail around itself, tight as it would go.
     
    Over the next few hours, my situation grew ever less comfortable. The cat lasted me well at first, but eventually the orb had shrunk so much my ears were down beneath my whiskers and I could feel the tip of my tail beginning to fry. A succession of changes ensued. I knew I was being watched, so I didn't do the obvious thing and just become a flea straight off—that would only result in the orb's shrinking really fast to catch up with me. Instead, I went through a series of furry and scaly variations, keeping just ahead of the shimmering prison bars each time. First a jack-rabbit, then a marmoset, then an undistinguished vole... Put all my forms together and you'd have a pretty decent pet shop, I suppose, but it wasn't exactly becoming.
    Try as I might, I couldn't come up with any great plan of escape either. I could gain a reprieve by spinning some long, complex lie to the woman, but she'd soon find out I was fibbing and finish me off all the quicker. That was no good.
    To make matters even worse, the wretched boy tried summoning me twice more. He didn't give up easily, probably reckoning he'd made some kind of mistake the first time, and ended up causing me so much discomfort I nearly decided to turn him in.
    Nearly, but not quite; no point giving up just yet. There was always the chance something might happen.
    "Were you at Angkor Thorn?" Bull-head again, still trying to place me.
    "What?" I was the vole at this point; I did my best to sound grandly dismissive, but voles can only do peeved.
    "You know, the Khmer Empire. I worked for the imperial magicians, me, when they conquered Thailand. Were you something to do with that? Some rebel?"
    "No."[1]
     
    [1] True, as it happens. That would be eight hundred years ago. In those days I was mostly in North America.
     
    "Sure about that?"
    "Yes! Of course I'm sure! You're confusing me with someone else. But forget about that for a minute. Listen..." The vole dropped its voice nice and quiet, and spoke from under a raised paw. "You're obviously a clever fellow, you've been around the block a few times, worked for a lot of the most vicious empires. Look—I've got powerful friends. If you can get me out of here, they'll kill your master for you, free you from your bond."
    If Bull-head had possessed more brains, I'd have sworn he was looking at me skeptically. Nevertheless, I plowed on regardless. "How long have you been cooped up here on guard duty?" I said. "Fifty years? A hundred? That's no life for an utukku, is it? You might as well be in an orb like this."
    The head came close to the bars. A shower of nose-steam jetted all over me, leaving sticky droplets in my fur. "What friends?"
    "Erm, a marid—a big one—and four afrits, very powerful, much stronger than me... You can join us...."
    The head retreated with a contemptuous growl. "You must think I'm stupid!"
    "No, no..." The vole gave a shrug. "That's what Eagle-beak over there thinks. He said you wouldn't join our plan. Still, if you're not interested..." With a wriggle and a half-hop, the vole turned its back.
    "What?" Bull-head hastened round to the other side of the column, holding his spear close to the orb. "Don't you turn your back on me! What did Xerxes say?"
    "Oi!" Eagle-beak came hurrying from the far corner of the room. "I heard my name! Stop talking to the prisoner!"
    Bull-head