The Ring of Solomon

down!’
    ‘He is helpless, you fools! Helpless! Kill him! Kill them both!’
    ‘Oh no …’ Asmira said softly. ‘ Look .’
    ‘ Dear Khaba … ’
    The voice came from behind the magician, from the direction of the balcony. Khaba heard it. He froze. He turned. All eyes turned, looked with him.
    The shadow floated in the entrance, its essence faint and flickering. It still had the magician’s silhouette, only softer, rougher than before, the edges melting like a candle. ‘I have been over land and ocean,’ its faint voice said. ‘I am very weary. The djinni led me a long and merry dance, but I caught him at the last.’ The shadow gave a heavy sigh. ‘How he fought! Fifty djinn together could not have done better. But it is over. I did it for you, Master. Only you.’
    Khaba’s voice cracked with emotion. ‘Sweet Ammet! You are the best of slaves! And … and you have it?’
    ‘Look what it has done to me,’ the shadow said wistfully. ‘Burning, burning, all these long, dark miles homeward … Yes, Master, I have it in my hand.’
    It unfurled five steaming fingers. A ring of gold sat in its palm.
    ‘Then my first act will be the destruction of the cursed Solomon!’ Khaba said. ‘Ammet – I shall relieve you of your burden. I am ready. Give it to me.’
    ‘Dear Khaba, I shall.’
    Solomon cried out; he lifted the golden serpent. Asmira began to run. But the shadow paid no heed to either. Unfurling its long, thin fingers, it swept forward with the Ring.

36
    H ere’s how it finished.
    Beyond the western forests, beyond the old coast road running north towards Damascus, beyond the little villages strung along the cliffs, Israel peters out abruptly on the shores of the Great Sea. 1 By the time the phoenix reached it, I was petering out too.
    Out over the empty beaches I went, flying erratically, one or two fiery feathers dropping into the waves with each beat of my wings. My noble beak had largely melted, and it was only with a small, sparrow-sized nub that I maintained my hold on Khaba’s drooping finger. My eyes were misting too, thanks to weariness and the proximity of the Ring, but when I glanced back I could see the shadow still in sight, drawing ever nearer.
    I was almost at my limits. The chase was almost done.
    Westwards I went a little longer, straight out to sea, and for the first half-mile there was still no light save for the little redand-orange glow that clung about my body and leaped and danced below me on the rushing waves. And all at once the night grew grey and, looking back, beyond the shadow, I saw a pink fringe above the distant shore that announced the arrival of the dawn.
    Good. I hadn’t wanted to finish things in the dark. I wanted the sun upon my essence one last time.
    The phoenix dropped low, skimmed close to the water’s surface. Then, jerking my head upwards, I spat the finger high into the air. It rose, rose, caught the first rays of the sun, began to fall –
    – and was caught in the centre of a lean, dark hand.
    A short distance away the rushing shadow slowed. He halted, hovering just above the waves on his tapered, pinpoint legs, and looked at me.
    I stared back, the winged Sumerian spear-bearer, curly haired and tousled. Wave-flecks wet my bare feet; dawn light broadened in my sombre eyes. With a rapid movement I removed the Ring from Khaba’s finger, which I tossed into the sea. Then I raised one arm. In my hand the Ring of Solomon was held outstretched, poised above the gulf.
    Ammet and I stood in silence, the cold deeps below us tugging at our essence.
    ‘So, Bartimaeus,’ the shadow said at last. ‘You have led me a merry dance, and fought well. Five djinn together could not have done better. But this is the end.’
    ‘Too right it is.’ I raised my arm a little higher. Where the Ring rested between my finger and thumb, my essence fizzed; the steam drifted gently up into the pink dawn light. ‘If you dare to drift so much as a single wave-length nearer,’ I said, ‘it’s going in. Right to the bottom, down where it’s dark and oozy, and things with too many legs will guard it for eternity. Think carefully, Ammet! Your master wouldn’t want to lose it for ever, would he?’
    The shadow gave an indifferent shrug. Dawn light drifted through the ragged hole in the middle of his chest. ‘You’re bluffing, Bartimaeus,’ he whispered. ‘Even with your minuscule intelligence you must see that if you drop the Ring, I shall become a fish and