The Ring of Solomon

treated by all and sundry with appropriate awe and respect. But thanks to the Ring, and the concentration of top magicians drawn into its orbit, it had got so you couldn’t throw a stone over your shoulder without hitting an afrit on the kneecap. The consequence was that honest entities like me were shoved right down the pecking order, lumped together with foliots, imps and other undesirables.
    5 Celtic Cabinet : a small bureau containing a few pots of dried woad and a frayed grass G-string brought back from the British Isles. Solomon’s djinn had travelled the globe in many directions, hunting for cultural marvels to stimulate his appetite. Some journeys yielded better dividends than others.
    6 Since most of us are able to adopt all manner of shapes, the most reliable way of assessing our relative strength quickly is by our auras, which wax and wane (wane mainly) throughout our time on Earth.

26
    I t was very quiet carnage to begin with, though. I didn’t want to disturb anyone.
    To deal with Bosquo took approximately fifteen seconds. This was slightly longer than expected. He had a couple of awkward tusks.
    In the four minutes that followed I paid several little visits to other sentries in that area of the gardens. Each encounter was similarly short, sharp and relatively painless – at least for me. 1
    With everything concluded, I turned back into a cricket and – temporarily somewhat full and sluggish – drifted back in the direction of the girl. But I didn’t go to get her yet; I was more interested in the night-shift captain standing near the rhododendron thicket. I flew as close as I could to him in safety; then, alighting on one of Solomon’s more unusual sculptures, crept beneath the crook of a thigh to watch developments.
    They weren’t long in coming.
    The afrit was masquerading as a statue himself on the first plane – a demure milkmaid or some such fiction. On the others he was a glowering grey ogre with knobbly knees, bronze armbands and an ostrich-feather loincloth; in other words he was exactly the kind of spirit I didn’t want stationed in the gardens while the girl and I were passing. From his belt hung an enormous horn of ivory and bronze.
    Presently, things began to happen. Out from the bushes scampered a gangling ape, with a bright pink muzzle and a shock of orange hair. It skidded to a halt before the afrit, sat back on its haunches and performed a brief salute. ‘Zahzeel, I crave a word!’
    ‘Well, Kibbet?’
    ‘I have been making my rounds in the southern gardens. Bosquo is missing from his post.’
    The afrit frowned. ‘Bosquo? Who sits below the treasury? He has leave to patrol the Rose Glade and the eastern arbours. No doubt you will find him there.’
    ‘I have looked under every twig and leaf,’ the ape replied. ‘Bosquo is nowhere to be seen.’
    The ogre pointed at the sparkling dome high above the garden. ‘The outer nexus has not been breached. There is no attack from outside. Bosquo has gone walkabout and shall be Stippled soundly when he chooses to return. Go back to your duties, Kibbet, and report to me at sunrise.’
    The ape departed. Safe in its hiding place, the cricket chirped quietly in satisfaction.
    Standing on a plinth for hours isn’t my idea of fun, but Zahzeel the ogre seemed happy with his lot. Over the next minute or two he rocked idly back on his heels a bit, flexed his knees once or twice and made a variety of contented smacking noises with his mouth. Perhaps he would have spent the whole night doing this if he’d been given the opportunity.
    It wasn’t to be. In a shower of leaves and a four-limbed lollop, the ape burst out from the bushes once more. It appeared rather more dishevelled than previously; its teeth were bared and its eyes bulged in their sockets.
    ‘Zahzeel! I make report of further oddities.’
    ‘Not Bosquo again?’
    ‘Bosquo has not yet been located, sir. But now Susu and Trimble are missing too.’
    The ogre stopped short. ‘What? Where were they stationed?’
    ‘On the battlements adjacent to the treasury. Susu’s pike was discovered in the garden below, protruding from the flowerbed. Several of Trimble’s scales were also scattered here and there, but there is no sign of the djinn themselves on any plane.’
    ‘And the outer nexus is still undamaged?’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    Zahzeel smacked a meaty fist into a palm. ‘Then nothing has entered from outside! If there is an enemy spirit abroad, it must have been