The Ring of Solomon

Charm and Binding still glowed upon the plug of lead. The jar began to spin, slowly at first, then faster: fast enough to make the sea break open in a spreading cone, a dark-blue funnel winding into darkness. Down the funnel the jar went spinning, down and down beneath my feet, and the sea closed in upon it.
    A little swell rose up and wet my feet. It fell away. The sea was flat again.
    ‘Spirit,’ I said, ‘I thank you. That was my last wish. Before I remove the Ring, do you require me to break it in two, and so release you?’
    ‘ Politely speaking ,’ the Presence said, ‘ that is beyond your competence. The Ring cannot yet be broken .’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘That is sad to hear.’
    ‘ My freedom will occur in time ,’ the Presence said. ‘ And what is time to us? ’
    I turned to look towards the sun. ‘I don’t know. Sometimes it feels a while.’
    I took off the Ring. The Presence vanished. I stood on my own above the quiet, lapping sea.

    1 Great Sea : later (by the Romans) called the Mediterranean. In Rome’s day this body of water would become a commercial playground, its waves flecked with brightly coloured galley sails, its aerial lanes dark with spirits hurrying to and fro. In Solomon’s time, however, when even skilful Phoenician sailors preferred to hug the coasts, the Great Sea was left blank and desolate, a primeval embodiment of chaos.
    Personally speaking, whatever the epoch, I always find seas the same: big, cold, and unnecessarily wet.
    2 As newly invented threats go that was a pretty good one, particularly after such a long chase. Ammet clearly subscribed to the Egyptian curse tradition: keep it succinct and keep it scary. As opposed to (say) those long-winded Sumerian curses that waffle on endlessly about boils, sores and painful bouts of wind, while you, the intended victim, softly slip away.
    3 I went for the fully rigged-up ‘official’ Solomon here – handsome, healthy, saturnine, dolled out in flashy, jewel-decked clothes – and not the ‘private’ crinkly white-robed version the girl and I had met. Partly this was to avoid having to copy all his many creasy bits (which would have taken an age), and partly because, at this do-or-die moment of supreme truth, I was blowed if I was going to wear the guise of an old bloke in his pyjamas.
    4 And naked. Just to make the analogy extra chilly.

37
    E ven as she moved, Asmira knew that it was hopeless. She would not reach Khaba before the shadow did. There was nothing she could do to prevent him reclaiming the Ring.
    Too slow, too feeble, too far away to be of use – it was a sensation she had known before. But she ran anyway. Perhaps she could distract them, give Solomon time to use his weapon, or give him space to flee. She ran – it was the right thing to do. And in those final moments Asmira was richly conscious of everything in the room: the dawn light shining through the drapes; the four demon monkeys standing huddled in a corner; the magician stumbling forward, his mouth open, his eyes gleaming, his good hand avidly outstretched …
    And the shadow, Khaba’s dark reflection, hastening towards him.
    Despite the ravages upon its essence, the shadow still maintained its faithful mimicry of its master. Except … As it drew close to the magician, Asmira saw that its silhouette had changed. Its nose was suddenly longer than the Egyptian’s, and had sprouted several enormous warts, while two vast jug-ears, resembling those of an elephant, protruded from the skull.
    The shadow and its master met. Khaba held out his hand. The shadow made as if to drop the Ring into his palm, then – at the last moment – jerked it out of reach.
    Khaba swiped for the Ring and missed. He hopped and danced, squeaking with annoyance, but now the shadow raised the Ring high above his head, dangling it teasingly from side to side.
    ‘ Nearly got it,’ the shadow said. ‘Oo, that was a big jump. If only you were a little taller.’
    ‘What are you doing , slave?’ Khaba roared. ‘Give me the Ring! Give it to me!’
    The shadow clapped a hand against one of its outsize ears. ‘Sorry, ugly. I’m a bit deaf. What did you say?’
    ‘Give it to me!’
    ‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure.’
    At which the shadow drew back, swung a fist and punched the Egyptian square on the chin, sending him bodily off the floor, whistling backwards through the air, and down onto one of the golden tables, which shattered beneath his sprawling