2016
“So this is how you got off that island?”
Baird crouched upon the flying carpet as it carried her and her captors southeast toward Arizona, soaring through the night sky at an altitude of approximately five hundred feet. Krieger and Marjanah sat to her left and right, having left their henchmen behind in Vegas. Apparently, the carpet’s carrying capacity was not what it had once been, before that roc had torn it to shreds a decade ago.
“It wasn’t as easy as you make it sound.” Krieger, whom Baird could no longer think of as Mark, watched over her closely despite the fact that the carpet’s extreme altitude forestalled any possibility of escape. “Marjanah and I scoured that blasted island for weeks, forever watching out for the roc, before we managed to salvage all the scattered pieces of the carpet and stitch it back together. Those were trying times, especially after we lost the last of our bodyguards to that damn bird.” He paused reflectively. “What was his name again?”
Marjanah shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“I suppose not.” He patted the intricate pattern of the carpet, which was now marred by several crude stitches. “Sadly, despite our attempts to mend it, the carpet is still somewhat the worse for wear. It could not guide us directly to the Lamp, as it did before, but was only able to trace it to the right general vicinity, more or less.”
Baird could connect the rest of the dots. We had the Clipping Book, she thought. They had the crippled carpet. Both of which pointed us toward Vegas.
A cool dry wind blew against her face as the carpet cruised over seemingly endless vistas of grass and sagebrush. Even after all she had experienced as a Guardian, Baird found it hard to believe that she was actually riding a flying carpet across the sky. Cassandra was going to be sorry she missed this, aside from the whole taken-hostage-by-ruthless-criminals thing.
“One thing I still don’t get,” Baird said. “How come you didn’t search Dunphy’s penthouse like you did his trailer?”
Cassandra had not mentioned anything about the penthouse being ransacked when she and Ezekiel apparently found the Lamp there.
“Oh, we did,” Krieger assured her, “just a good deal more discreetly. Tossing a run-down trailer in some miserable dump of a trailer park is one thing. Breaking into a luxury suite on the richest part of the Strip is something else altogether. That requires a more subtle touch in order to avoid attracting unwelcome attention.”
“The Forty has always operated in the shadows,” Marjanah added. “We came and went without notice, leaving no trace of our presence behind.”
“But you didn’t find the Lamp,” Baird said. “Did you?”
Marjanah shot Baird a dirty look. “No,” she confessed.
Because you didn’t have Cassandra or Ezekiel, Baird thought, proud of her Librarians. She enjoyed the other woman’s sullen expression. Take that, Second of the Forty. Sucks to come up short all the time.
“Not that it matters,” Krieger said. “Soon the Lamp will be ours again.”
Not if my team has anything to say about it, Baird thought. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in trying to convince you that summoning the Djinn is a truly terrible idea?”
“Like Carsen did years ago?” Krieger contemplated his injured hand, which, along with his other hand, was now protected by a thick leather glove. “I’ve waited too long, endured too much, to give up now.”
“We both have,” Marjanah said, “and the Forty has waited even longer. But now at last we will achieve the honor and glory we have been denied for centuries.”
“I think we have very different definitions of honor.” Baird looked at Krieger, still stung by his treachery. “Dare I ask what exactly you have in mind if and when you get your double-crossing hands on the Lamp?”
“Not if, when,” he declared. “And to begin with, a preemptive strike against the Library to prevent you and yours from ever interfering with our enterprises again.” He smiled mirthlessly. “Considering how Carsen foiled him before, I can only imagine that the Djinn will be happy to oblige.”
That was all too likely, Baird feared, given what Jenkins had said about how angry and vindictive the Djinn was known to be. Her body tensed as the carpet, traveling at hundreds of miles an hour, carried them past the sagebrush to the woods and forests beyond, skimming above the tops of towering ponderosa pines as the time and place of the exchange grew nearer. The sun was just beginning to rise as the ground below dropped away sharply. A vast, red-walled chasm, many miles across, stretched before her, cutting deeply into the earth. Sunlight lit up vast cliffs, pillars, and plateaus. Bands of colored rock, pressed together like the pages of a book, testified to millions of years of geological history.
Dawn had come to the Grand Canyon.
* * *
White light, accompanied by the crackle of eldritch lightning, spilled from the doorway of a shuttered park rangers’ station as Stone and his fellow Librarians burst through the door onto a remote lookout point at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, accessible only by a challenging dirt trail. Sunrise was approaching fast, but Stone took a moment to survey his new surroundings. It was the off-season, and this stretch of the Canyon had been abandoned by the tourists who routinely flocked to the more popular South Rim several miles away. The Forty had clearly put some thought into picking the site for the exchange. They were unlikely to be interrupted here, although Stone wondered how the kidnappers intended to reach the out-of-the way site without the aid of a magical Back Door.
“No sign of the bad guys,” Ezekiel said, looking around. “Looks like we’re the first ones here.” He walked to the edge of the rim and peered over the precipice. “Whoa. That’s a long way down.”
“Roughly a mile.” Stone joined him at the edge. He’d visited the Grand Canyon with his family years ago and later studied the art and history of the various Native American tribes populating the region. He cradled the Lamp against his chest, troubled by its warmth. “See what looks like a tiny little stream way down there at the bottom of the canyon? That’s actually the Colorado River viewed from a mile up.”
He hoped the Forty weren’t going to be arriving by boat. It would be a long hike down to reach them.
No, he reminded himself, they told us to meet them at this lookout point at sunrise, and they’re going to be out to make the exchange as swiftly as possible. They want the Lamp almost as much as we want we want Baird back.
“Are we absolutely sure we’re doing the right thing?” Cassandra asked, hugging herself to combat the early-morning chill. “You heard what Jenkins said.…”
Jenkins remained back at the Annex, battening down the hatches (mystically and otherwise) just in case everything went pear-shaped and the Djinn got loose. Probably a reasonable precaution, Stone thought. This could all go wrong very easily.
“Not that I don’t want to save Baird,” Cassandra said. “It’s just that there’s a lot at stake.”
“Too late to second-guess ourselves now,” Stone said. “We’ve just got to roll the dice and hope we don’t crap out when it matters.”
Cassandra smiled wanly. “Good thing I’ve still got Dunphy’s lucky penny on me then.”
“Couldn’t hurt,” Stone said. “We can use all the luck we can get.”
Ezekiel snorted. “I keep telling you, mates. I make my own luck.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” Stone said, “for everybody’s sake.”
Turning their backs to the canyon, they gazed expectantly at the rugged trail leading up to the North Rim by way of a thick pine forest. Stone listened in vain for the sound of anyone drawing near.
“Where are they?” Cassandra asked anxiously. “What are they waiting for?”
Stone tried not to get too worried yet. “Sunrise is not an exact meeting time.”
“Sure it is.” Cassandra sounded perplexed by his statement. She waved her hands before her eyes, peering up at some invisible orrery generated by her own remarkable brain. “This time of year, at this segment of the equator, allowing for the axial tilt of the Earth and our relative distance from the sun, sunrise should be at exactly … 6:19 a.m.” She collapsed her imaginary calculator. “Mountain Standard Time, naturally.”
Stone cracked a smile, despite the tense situation. “I’m just saying that the Forty may not be quite as precise as you are.”
Few people were.
He peeked at his wristwatch. It was 6:22.
Keep cool, he thought. But those scumbags had better not be making us sweat on purpose.
Ezekiel turned away from the fruitless vigil to check out the view of the canyon once more. He froze and pointed out over the chasm. “Um, look sharp, mates. We have incoming … arriving by air.”
A helicopter?
Puzzled because he didn’t hear any whirring rotors, Stone spun around to behold an actual flying carpet descending toward them, as though straight from The Arabian Nights.
“Okay,” he muttered, “I should’ve seen this coming.”
Cassandra was agog with excitement. “Oh my God, do you see that?”
“Eyes on the prize, Cassie,” Stone reminded her. “Remember why we’re here.”
She nodded, coming back down to Earth. “Right. Sorry.”
“No problem. It’s pretty amazing, I’ve got to admit.”
The carpet slowed as it approached, bearing Eve, Marjanah, and … Baird’s old army buddy?
“What the hell?” Stone realized that he had missed a twist or two. He could only guess at the full story, but he’d bet the farm that Baird had been double-crossed somehow—and that her “accidental” meeting with her friend had been anything but. Explains how the Forty managed to get the drop on her, he thought. Baird probably never saw it coming.
The carpet leveled off above the canyon, hovering parallel to the edge of the cliff, so that only a twelve-foot gap separated the Librarians from Baird and the bad guys. Marjanah gave Stone the evil eye; apparently she had not gotten over that incident with the black pepper.
“All right,” Stone called out. “We’re here, just like you asked. Let’s get on with this.”
“I commend your punctuality, Mr. Stone,” the man on the carpet said. “And I’m just as eager to conclude this transaction.”
“And you are?” Ezekiel asked.
“Major Mark Krieger,” Baird said quickly, before anyone could stop her. “AKA the First of the Forty.”
“Silence!” Marjanah snapped. “Hold your tongue, witch, or I’ll cut it out!”
“Curb your temper,” Krieger addressed his bloodthirsty lieutenant. “I’m sure the Librarians don’t wish to pay for damaged merchandise. And as for divulging my identity … well, no harm done. Once we obtain the Lamp, we can become whoever we want to be.”
Rising to his feet atop the floating carpet, he yanked Baird upright as well.
“Toss me the Lamp,” he ordered, “or Eve makes a one-way trip to the bottom of the canyon.”
“Don’t do it, Stone!” Baird shouted. “You can’t let them win!”
“I know,” Stone said, “but we’re not about to lose you.”
Scowling, he lobbed the Lamp over to Krieger, who caught it easily. The treacherous major barked in Arabic at the carpet, which glided up and away from the cliff, widening the gap between the Librarians and Baird to about twenty feet or so.
“Hey!” Stone yelled. “We had a deal.”
“Which I fully intend to honor,” Krieger called back, “after I ascertain that this is the genuine article and not another trick.”
Stone noted belatedly that thick leather gloves protected the man’s hands, while the canyon itself offered a convenient way to dispose of a booby-trapped lamp should the need arise. He suspected that such considerations had factored into the selection of the meeting site, along with the way the canyon lent itself to a speedy escape by magic carpet. Even now, there was no way for Stone and the others to reach Baird or come to her aid, nor could they readily pursue the carpet if it flew away with her.
“Make it quick,” Stone snarled.
“That was always my intention.”
Krieger examined the jade artifact carefully before holding it up for Marjanah’s inspection. “What do you think? Is this the Lamp you remember?”
“That was ten years ago,” she said, squinting at the Lamp, “and there was a mountain coming down on us, and a hungry roc, but … yes, I believe that’s it.” An avaricious glint shone in her eyes. “If you’d like, I could try rubbing it first.”
Krieger scoffed at the offer. “I think I’ll reserve that privilege for myself. It’s not that I don’t trust you, of course, but…”
“One more time, Krieger,” Baird said. “Don’t do this.”
“You’re wasting your breath, Eve.” He took a deep breath, betraying only the slightest trace of trepidation, before rubbing the Lamp, just as Flynn had done a decade ago. “Arise, O Genie of the Lamp!”
The effect was instantaneous, as though the imprisoned Djinn couldn’t wait to escape the confines of the ancient Lamp. Rising upon a billowing plume of luminous azure smoke, the Djinn towered above the carpet, his immense feet resting solidly upon empty air. Stone’s jaw dropped at the sight of the Djinn in all his terrible majesty; the blue-skinned giant made even a minotaur or the Big Bad Wolf seem like pipsqueaks by comparison.
“FREE!” the Djinn boomed. “FREE TO SEEK VENGANCE UPON THE WORLD!”
“All in good time.” Krieger raised his voice to address the looming genie. “I hold your Lamp now!”
The Djinn peered down at him. A morning breeze rippled the surface of the genie’s iridescent blue substance. Blazing golden eyes gazed upon the awestruck mortals.
“SO I SEE. AND WHO ART THOU, WHO IS CARRIED ALOFT BY THE VERY CARPET OF SOLOMON?”
“The First of the Forty,” Krieger declared, “and your new master!”
The Djinn scowled, as though vexed by the reminder of his bondage, but offered a grudging salaam to Krieger, dipping his massive head in respect and placing a log-sized finger against his brow.
“VERY WELL, O CHIEF OF THIEVES. WHAT IS THY FIRST COMMAND?”
Krieger beamed in triumph. “To begin with—”
With all eyes on the Djinn, Baird drove her elbow into Krieger’s throat, cutting him off midsentence. He staggered backward, clutching his throat. His mouth opened, but no words emerged, only a strangled croak.
His larynx, Stone realized. She crushed his larynx so he can’t make a wish.
Marjanah raced to aid him, but not before Baird kicked his legs out from beneath him. Still croaking, he toppled onto the carpet, and the Lamp slipped from his grasp. Marjanah abruptly changed course and dived for the Lamp instead.
“No one touch it! It’s mine!”
Looming above, the Djinn laughed scornfully at the tussle on the carpet, declining to intervene in the absence of an expressed wish. His thundering laughter roiled the air and caused rocks and pebbles to tumble down the side of the cliff.
“WHAT SPLENDID SPORT! SCURRY, LITTLE MORTALS, WHILE YOU CAN!”
The commotion rocked the carpet, causing the Lamp to bounce randomly across the bucking rug. Eluding Marjanah, it came dangerously close to the fraying edge of the carpet. Stone grimaced at the thought of the Lamp tumbling down into the canyon where anyone could find it, maybe even Krieger and Marjanah once they regained control of the situation and the carpet.
“Baird!” he shouted. “Over here!”
“No!” Marjanah shrieked, drawing her blade. “It belongs to the Forty.”
She pounced, about to claim the Lamp for her own, when Baird rushed forward and kicked it off the carpet toward the Librarians.
“Catch!” she shouted.