The djinn stopped roaring and halted the violent fanning of his wings. “You conjure me, do you, mortal?” the great sullen voice came down.

“I do indeed,” said Abdullah. “Say what you were doing with my carpet and in the form of that most ignoble of nomads. You have wronged me at least twice!”

“Very well,” said the djinn. He began ponderously to kneel down.

“You can let go now,” Abdullah said to the soldier, who, not knowing the laws that governed djinns, was still hanging on to the vast foot. “He has to stay and answer me now.”

Warily the soldier let go and mopped sweat from his face. He did not seem reassured when the djinn simply folded his wings and knelt. This was not surprising, because the djinn was high as a house even kneeling, and the face coming into view through the mist was hideous. Abdullah had another glimpse of Midnight, now normal size again, scurrying for the bushes with Whippersnapper dangling from her mouth. But the face of the djinn took up most of his attention. He had seen that blank brown glare and the gold ring through that hooked nose—albeit briefly—before, when Flower-in-the-Night was carried off from the garden.

“Correction,” Abdullah said. “You have wronged me three times.”

“Oh, more than that,” the djinn rumbled blandly. “So many times that I have lost count.”

At this Abdullah found himself angrily folding his arms. “Explain.”

“Willingly,” said the djinn. “I was indeed hoping to be asked by someone, although I had supposed the questions most likely to come from the Duke of Farqtan or the three rival princes of Thayack, rather than from you. But none of the rest has proved determined enough—which surprises me somewhat, because you were certainly never my main irons in the fire, either of you. Know then that I am one of the greatest of the host of Good Djinns, and my name is Hasruel.”

“I didn’t know there were any good djinns,” said the soldier.

“Oh, there are, innocent northerner,” Abdullah told him. “I have heard this one’s name spoken in terms that place him nearly as high as the angels.”

The djinn frowned—an unpleasant sight. “Misinformed merchant,” he rumbled. “I am higher than some angels. Know that some two hundred angels of the lesser air are mine to command. They serve as guards to the entrance of my castle.”

Abdullah kept his arms folded and tapped with his foot. “This being the case,” he said, “explain why you have seen fit to behave toward me in a manner so far from angelic.”