The Book of Wonders (23 page)

“I've paid you,” she snarled back. “I answered your riddle.”

“That you did, and in turn I paid my price, I brought you to this place.” He looked down at her. “Take hold of the Windrose or walk away but know that you only get one chance.”

Zardi began to tremble like a palm leaf in the wind. Of all the challenges she had faced since leaving home, this was the one she wanted to run from. She looked at her rough, callous hand. It was shaking.
I could leave the Windrose
, she thought.
I could leave now
.

Zardi pushed away the traitorous voice. She could not fail. The Windrose was the key to everything.

She leaned forward but reared back as the heat struck her face. She could feel a thickness in her throat. A hard ball of dread filled her stomach, but before her courage could desert her, she plunged her hand into the fiery basin.

Time stood still. Pain unknown, until now unimaginable, shot through her hand as the flames covered it. A blanket of unconsciousness tried to smother her, but she kicked it off and forced herself to look at her burning hand, which even now reached for the Windrose. Through the flickering, blue-tinted flames she could see her skin blister and shrink. The skin over her knuckles began to peel back, showing red, and then the white of bone. Still she reached, but her hand was too far away from the golden disc. She needed to expose more of herself to the flame. She pushed her forearm into the fiery basin, and the flames grasped it greedily. The blue stone around her neck swung forward. The gossamer thread that held the jewel began to melt and there was a cracking sound as the flames touched the gem. The stone shattered, the hot pieces falling onto the exposed skin of her chest and neck.

With all of her being Zardi wanted to pull away from the fire, as despair joined pain in her mind—her hand was being destroyed and she'd lost her stone, the stone she had promised Sula she would look after.

Why go on?
her thoughts whispered.
Pull back, give up
.

A howl of pure agony left Zardi's lips, but with her last shard of will she fought against the voice in her head and pushed her whole arm forward. She lifted the Windrose from its fiery bath and with a sob she fell back from the flames and onto the floor.

A
ll her pain ended as suddenly as a summer storm. Zardi looked down at her hand: It was undamaged, and in it she held the golden Windrose. “I don't understand.” She gaped at her hand stupidly and then up at the djinni.

“It was a test.” Oli looked utterly fed up. “And you passed it rather impressively.”

“So, my hand was never really burning?” Zardi asked in amazement, placing the Windrose gently in her lap.

“It
was
burning,” Oli said. “That was the price. You had to be prepared to sacrifice it to be able to take possession of the Windrose. If you had withdrawn your hand without the Windrose, the burns would have remained. No magic could have undone them. But now that your hand has been through the fire, you will be stronger.”

Zardi let Oli's words settle on her and sink in. The djinni would never know how close she'd come to quitting before she had the Windrose. She flexed her hand, still not quite believing that she wasn't hurt.

The golden disc tingled with pleasant warmth as she grasped it. She wearily got to her feet and stepped away from the fountain. Through the glass roof, she could see a thousand stars in the night sky. It had grown dark outside. How long had they been in Postremo? Zardi suddenly felt homesick for Desolation Island and the crew of the
Falcon
. “If we're all done here, I'd like to leave,” she whispered.

Oli led her down the winding stairs. All the way, she grasped the Windrose tightly, its circular edge sharp against her skin. It was really hers!

Zardi reached the stone door and stepped into the book-lined room.

“You're back.” Rhidan ran up to her, with Khalila following. “Are you all right?” His eyes raked over her.

“I'm fine, really.” On the long walk down the stairs she'd been of two minds as to whether she would tell Rhidan about the fire fountain and what had happened to her. She decided she would tell him, but not right now.

Rhidan's brow furrowed with worry. “What happened to your neck?” He briefly touched the base of her throat.

Zardi's fingers crept up to her neck and she could feel a tiny ridge of smooth, cold stone embedded in her skin. She prodded at it but it didn't hurt. For a moment she couldn't think of what it could be, but then the answer rushed over her. It was a fragment of the jewel that Sula had given her. Zardi felt a grin break over her face. The stone wasn't destroyed; she still had a tiny bit left.

“It's my stone,” Zardi said. “And I'll explain later, I promise.” She held up the Windrose for him to see. “Look what I've got.”

Rhidan's eyes widened, and he reached out to touch the Windrose.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” Oli said. “You don't want to get burned, do you? Only the keeper of the Windrose can touch it.”

Rhidan's hand stopped in midair. For a moment, disappointment worried his brow, but then pride blossomed on his face. “Zardi is the keeper of the Windrose. I wouldn't have it any other way.”

Zardi smiled at her friend, relieved that he wasn't annoyed at her for being the one to say Sesame's name and be taken across the threshold.

“So, keeper of the Windrose, which way is it to the Black Isle?” Khalila arched an eyebrow.

“I don't know, I …” Zardi faltered. “I don't even know how to use it.” She looked over at Oli hopefully.

The djinni looked mutinous. “You come here, guess my name, take the Windrose, and now you want me to give you instructions?” He folded his arms. “I am not telling you a thing.”

Khalila held up her hands. “Luckily, I know.” She pointed at the Windrose. “Those words etched around the circumference are the ancient names of the four winds. It means the Windrose can harness the power of air.” She pointed to the etched tree, the roots that turned into waves, and the glowing rubies along the rim. “As well as earth, water, or fire. You need to focus your mind on the Windrose and then on the place you want to go. I'd call on air for its help. It is the easiest element to control.”

“But we're inside,” Zardi protested.

“It doesn't matter,” Oli said reluctantly. “The elements can find you anywhere and lead you to what you desire.”

“Ask the Windrose to guide you. I will fix on the wind it chooses to give us and will use my magic to transport us to the Black Isle,” Khalila promised.

“Wait,” Zardi replied. “We need to go back to camp first. We can't just leave without telling Sinbad and the others. Khalila, I command you to take us back to Desolation Island.”

“You misremember, you are not my true master. I will grant your wishes only if I choose to,” the djinni retorted. “I never want to see that place again.”

Rhidan spun round to face the djinni. “Listen, I know our deal is that if you transport us to the Black Isle, we'll wish you back to your husband. But right now, we've got to go back to the island.”

Khalila considered his words for a moment. “I've got another idea. One that doesn't involve us going back to that place.”

“Go on,” Zardi said.

“You could wish Sinbad and his men home and I'd grant it, even if it means using my life essence.”

“We wouldn't get to say good-bye.” Rhidan turned to Zardi.

“True.” Zardi smiled sadly. “But Sinbad's journey was never supposed to be ours. I just want them to get home.”

Rhidan turned to the djinni. “Khalila, I wish you to send Sinbad and his men back to Arribitha.”

“And don't forget the diamonds,” Zardi added swiftly.

“So be it.” Khalila clasped her hands and murmured an incantation, but unlike last time her hands did not glow with fire. “Something's wrong.” She frowned. “I tried to send the crew of the
Falcon
back home but they're still on the island.”

“Why wouldn't your magic work?” Rhidan asked.

For the first time, Zardi saw something very much like fear pass across Khalila's face.

“I'm not sure,” the djinni said hesitantly.

“Maybe you're a bit rusty, my dear,” Oli offered. “And transporting a whole crew, while in a different dimension, isn't an easy task even when you're at the top of your game.”

Khalila looked glum, and Zardi felt a surprising pang of sympathy.

“I guess that must be it,” the djinni said.

“You need to start slow, baby steps and all that,” Oli went on. “I am more than happy to send you back to the island, so you can try there.”

Zardi's eyes narrowed. “What's the price? There is always a price to pay for magic, right?”

“You learn fast. I don't have a price so much as a desire.” Oli looked almost embarrassed. “You see, I'm bound to remain in this place until my master, Eria, returns.”

“A guard dog with nothing to guard now the Windrose is gone,” Khalila commented snidely.

Oli ignored her. “And boredom is the worst torturer.”

“I don't understand,” Zardi said. “What can I do?”

“Let me see your future.” Eagerness bloomed in Oli's voice. “Once I've seen your future, I can record it in the
Book of Wonders
. I won't have to wait so long to find out what happens next. Will you let me see?”

“I guess. If it means you'll really send us all back to the island,” Zardi said.

“It's a promise.” Oli clasped his hands together and murmured something under his breath. His hands glowed, and he touched Zardi's forehead. Black exploded across the whites of his eyes.

Zardi shared a bemused glance with Rhidan as a smile split the djinni's handsome face. Whatever Oli was watching in her future, he was enjoying it. At long last, the smile faded and the black seeped from his eyes.

Oli clapped in delight. “I'd better write this all down before I forget.” He hurried over and pulled the heavy leather book off the shelf.

“What did you see?” Khalila's face was pinched.

“I'm sure you'd like to know.” Oli stared at the other djinni with a knowing look on his face, and Khalila lowered her gaze.

Zardi frowned. Something was going on between the djinnis that she didn't understand, and she certainly didn't like it. She folded her arms. “Actually, I'd like to know. It's
my
future.”

Oli licked his fingers and flicked through the
Book of Wonders
, looking for a blank page. “Well, I don't want to spoil all the fun, but know that the Black Isle will not give you the answers you seek. You won't even reach there in time for it to make a difference. Zubeyda's Hunt will go ahead and there is nothing you can do to stop that.”

“You're wrong,” Zardi ground out.

“Of course he is. He's just toying with you,” Rhidan said reassuringly. “We have the Windrose and once we find the Black Isle, I'll convince my father to help us and—”

“Ah yes, your father, the mysterious Iridial.” Oli laughed. “Oh, Rhidan, I long to read your future, but I don't want to ruin the ending for myself, and the end lies with you, I think.” He tucked the
Book of Wonders
under his arm. “Time for you to go—there's much still to come!” Oli clasped his hands together. Words flowed under his breath.

“Wai—” Zardi began. But it was too late. She, Rhidan, and Khalila were ripped through space once again.

“O
uch,' Rhidan complained as Oli's magic dropped them back on the beach. “Isn't there a less painful way to travel?”

“Sure there is,” Khalila said. “But Oli clearly wasn't feeling that generous.”

Zardi scanned the shore, searching for Sinbad and his crew, but all she could see was the carcass of the
Falcon
up ahead. She shivered as a cool breeze danced off the sea and rushed over her, making the hairs on her arms stand on end. The low sun in the sky told her that it was nearly dusk.

Fear gnawed at her. “This is wrong.” Zardi broke into a run, heading for the
Falcon
. Rhidan's footsteps pounded behind her. Where was everyone? Where was the fire that should have been built by now, its smoky plume spiraling into the sky?

The herald's warning about Okre sounded loudly in her head.
He'll come visiting soon. He always comes in the end
.

“I hope you don't expect me to run after
you
,” Khalila griped. “I'm not getting sand in my slippers.”

Only yesterday the
Falcon's
hull had been riddled with gaping holes. Now they were filled up with some kind of sap that had grown hard and shiny. Zardi reached out and touched its smoothness.

“How'd they do this so quickly?” Rhidan asked, catching up with her.

“Get away from there!” A gaunt man with wild white hair ran toward them, shouting and brandishing a long stick with a sharp rock strapped to its end.

Zardi squinted in the failing light. The man looked incredibly familiar.

“Musty?” Rhidan asked uncertainly.

The white-haired man stopped short, recognition lighting up his face. “You're alive!” he exclaimed. “How can this be? Where have you been for the last month?”

“What are you talking about?” Zardi asked. “We've only been gone a few hours.”

“What nonsense are you speaking?” Musty shook his head as if trying to dislodge their voices. “No time for games. There is work to be done. I must finish the ship.” He strode away, dragging his long stick behind him.

“But where is everyone else?” Zardi chased the frighteningly thin old man.
How had Musty become so skinny, so quickly?

They caught up with Musty next to a pile of coconuts. He was busy splitting them in half with his makeshift axe.