The Ring of Solomon

… was dead or gone.
    ‘Well, what is the truth, then?’ the king demanded. ‘How did you get here?’
    ‘I was … brought here by a spirit that I summoned myself.’
    ‘Indeed? Then where is it? I sent out sensors and found nothing.’
    ‘I expect your demon destroyed it,’ Asmira said.
    The elegant brows furrowed. ‘What was its nature? A marid?’
    ‘A djinni.’
    ‘Oh, now I know that you are lying.’ The king reached out and took the Ring from the silver plate. ‘A mere djinni could not get past all my slaves below. You are no magician. But a magician has surely helped you …’ His eyes narrowed, became harsh with suspicion. ‘Who was it, then? One of my own?’
    Asmira frowned in perplexity. ‘What?’
    ‘Hiram? Nisroch? Khaba? Come, you are protecting someone.’ He waved a hand towards the window. ‘The Seventeen grow impatient in their little towers down there. They are close to the source of power, but not as close as they would like! Who knows, perhaps they secretly work in tandem with this queen of yours. Perhaps, like her, they look for someone young and gullible, someone hot-headed, burning with addled zeal – someone who might strike a blow against me on their behalf!’ Asmira tried to speak, but the king’s voice grew louder; he sat forward in his chair. ‘Perhaps you even work for them directly! Tell me, Asmira, what did they offer you if you crept in here on your suicidal mission? Love? Silks? Riches? Quickly now, the Ring is on my finger! Speak! Tell me the truth before it turns!’
    For a moment the rage and confusion that warred within her struck Asmira quite dumb. Then she laughed. She set her untouched wine carefully on the floor and got slowly to her feet. ‘I’ve told you the truth,’ she said. ‘Turn the Ring and have done.’
    King Solomon grimaced. ‘Sit down. I warn you – sit!’
    ‘No.’ She walked towards him.
    ‘Then you leave me no choice.’ Solomon raised his left hand and, with the thumb and forefinger of his right, turned the band of gold upon his little finger.
    Asmira stopped where she was. She closed her eyes; blood pounded in her head …
    Nothing happened. Somewhere, as if at one remove, she heard the king give a muttered oath.
    Asmira opened one eye. Solomon sat as before, spinning the Ring upon his finger. Round and round it went. No terrifying entity materialized between them.
    Even as she watched, the slender band of gold grew limp and soggy, took on a somewhat grey and fishy air. It sagged against his finger. King Solomon and Asmira stared at it openmouthed.
    ‘A calamari ring …’ Asmira breathed.
    Solomon’s voice was barely audible. ‘Someone’s switched it …’ he began.
    ‘Ah yes, now that would have been me.’ At this, a small, striped sand cat sauntered out from behind the nearest rack of scrolls, whiskers sparkling, eyes gleaming, tail held high in a particularly jaunty manner. It looked inordinately pleased with itself. It strolled over the rugs and came to a halt between them. ‘One “mere djinni” at your service,’ it said, settling itself down neatly, and winding its tail around its paws. ‘One “mere djinni”’ – here it paused and blinked round at them for dramatic effect – ‘who, while you’ve both been chatting away like fishwives, has got himself a ring.’

30
    I made it look easy, didn’t I? But it wasn’t quite as straightforward as all that.
    True, getting into the chamber wasn’t so hard – there weren’t any traps or sentinels, and Solomon had his back to me when I peeked round the door. And nipping over to the rack beside the window was a doddle too, since he and the girl were absorbed by their rather tense ‘discussion’, and were hardly likely to notice a discreetly passing fly. 1
    From then on though, things got trickier – mainly because of the nature of the Ring.
    It was so bright for starters. On the first plane the room was adequately lit by several flickering oil lamps, 2 but on the higher ones the aura of that little golden speck leached everything whiter and brighter than the Egyptian sands at noon. It was so overwhelming that it actually made me sick to use my inner eyes. Except in briefest snatches, I stuck with the first plane from then on.
    The actual sleight-of-hand stuff – putting a quick Illusion on a squid ring and substituting it for the real Ring on the plate – that was easy too, at least in principle. Stealing stuff is second nature to djinn – always has