The Ring of Solomon

your great loveliness will commend you to his attention.’ With a flourish he turned aside, looked back towards his slaves. The smile vanished. ‘Nimshik! Attend to me!’
    One of the great entities scampered forward, grimacing.
    ‘You shall be in charge of the other slaves,’ Khaba said, ‘with the exception of Chosroes, who carries me as before. We will escort this lady to Jerusalem. Your tasks, Nimshik, are as follows. You will clear the road of the corpses and the debris. Bury the fallen, burn the camels. If there are further survivors, you will treat their wounds and bring them to the Gate of the People at the palace – along with any such goods or animals that remain intact. You understand?’
    The hulking figure hesitated. ‘Master, Solomon forbids—’
    ‘Fool! The brigands are destroyed; you will have his permission to return. When all is done, await me on the roof of my tower, where I shall issue new instructions. If you disappoint me in any of this, I will skin you. Be off!’
    The magician turned to Asmira, his smile as broad as ever. ‘Priestess Cyrine, you must excuse the stupidity of my slaves. Regretfully a magician must associate with such things, as perhaps you know.’
    ‘Certain of the elder priestesses speak occasionally with spirits, I believe,’ Asmira said demurely. ‘I know nothing of it.’
    ‘Ah, I should hope not, a pretty wisp like you …’ For a heartbeat’s space the big soft eyes looked Asmira up and down. ‘But do not be afraid of my creatures,’ Khaba said, ‘for I have them thoroughly in my power, bound with sturdy magic chains, and all fear my kindest word. Now, if—’
    He halted, frowning. From somewhere close came a tinkling of bells. A gust of wind, carrying with it a sharp, pungent smell, stirred Asmira’s headscarf and made her cough.
    Khaba made a courteous gesture. ‘Priestess, I am sorry. Excuse me just a moment.’
    He spoke a word; three heartbeats passed. A purplish cloud bloomed like a flower in the air above them. Reclining on it, legs casually crossed, and with knobbly hands clasped behind its head, was a small, green-skinned demon. ‘Evening, Master,’ it said. ‘Just thought I’d—’ It noticed Asmira and assumed an expression of extravagant surprise. ‘Ooo, you’ve got company. Nice. Well, don’t let me stop you.’ It settled itself back in its cloud.
    ‘What do you want, Gezeri?’ Khaba said.
    ‘Don’t mind me. It can wait. You keep on nattering.’
    The magician’s smile remained, but his voice was dangerous. ‘Gezeri … ’
    ‘Oh, very well.’ The little demon scratched industriously at an itch in its armpit. ‘Just to say it’s all OK . The old girl’s cracked at last. She’s begun gathering the stuff, and—’
    ‘Enough!’ Khaba cried. ‘We do not need to bore our guest with tedious matters such as this! I will talk to you later. Return to my tower at once!’
    The demon rolled its eyes. ‘Can I? Really? Oh, how lovely.’ So saying, it clapped its hands and vanished.
    Khaba touched Asmira on the arm. ‘Priestess, forgive me. If you will now accompany me to my carpet, I will see to your comfort on the short flight to Jerusalem.’
    ‘Thank you. You are very kind.’
    ‘ Ahem .’ There was a small cough to Asmira’s left. The djinni Bartimaeus, who had been waiting unremarked a short way off, had cleared his throat behind an upraised hand.
    ‘Slave,’ Khaba intoned, ‘you shall rejoin the others. Obey Nimshik and work with zeal! Priestess Cyrine, please …’
    Bartimaeus gave a series of little knowing winks and smiles. He bobbed and gestured. He coughed louder, looking pointedly in Asmira’s direction.
    ‘Are you still here!?’ Khaba thrust aside his cloak and reached for a long-handled whip hanging in his belt.
    Until that moment Asmira’s awe at the demons’ arrival, and her excitement at the prospect of reaching Jerusalem, had driven thoughts of her original promise from her mind. But now, spurred on by the djinni’s evident desperation and also by a sudden revulsion for the magician standing at her side, she recalled her vow – and found she had to act. She had, after all, sworn it by the Sun God, and by her mother’s memory.
    ‘O great Khaba,’ she said. ‘A moment, please! This djinni, and that other who accompanied him, have performed a noble service to me. They saved my life, I do believe, and I entreat that in return they may be released from their bonds.’
    She smiled