Tainted: Minotaur by Nez
Summary: Taking place fives years after the events of "All of Me", Mozenrath resurfaces to challenge Dhandi to complete a maze. Follows the storyline of "Labyrinth".
Rating: PG
Categories: Aladdin
Characters: Original Characters, Other, Mozenrath
Genres: Action/Adventure, General
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 08/02/05
Updated: 08/09/05
Index
Chapter 1: Storyteller
Chapter 2: Welcomed Reunions
Chapter 3: Getting In
Chapter 4: Fifty-percent Chances
Chapter 5: Assembled Pawns
Chapter 6: The Swamp
Chapter 7: Dream a Little Dream of Me
Chapter 8: Concerning Amin
Chapter 9: Let Me Fall
Chapter 10: The Rabbit and the Minotaur
Chapter 11: To the Victor Goes the Spoils
Chapter 12: To the Victor Goes the Spoils (alternate version)
Chapter 1: Storyteller
Chapter 1: Storyteller
Dhandi struggled with the squirming babe upon her back as she walked through Agrabian marketplace, vendors loudly soliciting their wares.
“Halim,” she cooed, attempting to pacify him, “stop pulling Auntie Dhandi’s hair-ow!” Halim, defying his name’s meaning, continued pulling his fifteen-year old sitter’s ponytail.
“Halim!” Dhandi seethed, trying to keep a straight face as she walked past guards. Losing your temper at the Crown Prince of Agrabah was not well looked upon, even if you were on friendly terms with the Sultan and Sultana. The burly-looking guards glanced at the girl, who smiled innocently, and rushed off as a merchant shrieked several feet away. As the guards grew small in the distance, Dhandi sighed and carefully took the fussy infant off her back as she sat down on a barrel.
“What’s wrong, Halim?’ she asked the babe as he continued shrieking feverishly. “I gave you a change. They fed you before we left the palace.”
Halim began to turn maroon in his face as tears ran down his cherubic cheeks. A worried look appeared on her face.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have left.” Dhandi kicked off her slippers, her wide feet throbbing. “They know how to take care of you back there.”
Halim was as red as a beet, squirming in Dhandi’s lap. She frowned as she looked up, scanning past the city’s skyline.
“I left Eden’s bottle back home,” she said, “so I wouldn’t bother her while she’s with Genie. I mean, I’m not exactly a kid anymore.”
Halim grabbed a crease of her creamy orange dress and began sucking contentedly; Dhandi appearing aghast as she gently yanked it away. The child began screaming once more, to his keeper’s dismay.
“Imsorry,” she said quickly, trying to pacify the bawling babe in vain. She picked him up and, gently supporting his bottom, began gently bounce him against her shoulder. She saw a woman next door do this when she was nursing. Her baby managed to calm down that time. However, Halim continued to wail, tears soaking Dhandi’s shoulder. The girl’s face scrunched up, mimicking Halim’s.
“You’re not gonna cry, you’re not gonna cry,” she repeated her mantra over in her head, though her eyelids quivered as tear ducts were locked and loaded. A shadow hovered over her as Dhandi looked up.
“Sadira?”
The witch in her modest green and white outfit smiled as she bent down curious.
“Got stuck with baby-sitting duty?” she asked, wiggling her fingers above Halim’s nose. “Man, he’s noisy. I could hear him all the way from home.”
“Jasmine asked me to watch Halim,” Dhandi grabbed Halim as his girth began to slide down her flat chest. “I couldn’t say no, especially when I had to sneak past the guards to get in.”
“Was Aladdin there?” Sadira had a look of interest on her face, very much like a fox gets for an unguarded egg. “He could have vouched for you.”
“He’s on some trip to do ‘sultan business’ over in Getzistan-ow!” Dhandi pulled Halim’s hand away from her hair. Sadira met this witha disappointed frown. “You can imagine how much Jasmine has to do, besides him.”
“So why are you out here when you two should be in there?”
Dhandi scratched her head. “I just-I wanted to get out.”
“You must be crazy or something if you’re splitting the moment you stepped in,” Sadira cocked her head as she looked closer at Dhandi. “Have you even been in the palace before?”
“Actually, a few times,” the girl replied. “I guess I don’t really fit in.” She held out her arms, showing her rather modest dress. “Not exactly a princess.”
“This wouldn’t happen to be because you’re poor,” the twenty-four year old said, “because you’re pretty much in the same boat as everybody else in Agrabah.”
A sly look appeared on Sadira’s face.
“Or maybe because you got some power in you that you need somebody to teach you how to use right.”
“I don’t think Eden would want me to,” Dhandi said, a bit uneasily. Sadira frowned, dejectedly. “I’m sorry. Just a bad experience. I barely remember. It was a couple years ago.”
“If you don’t want to do it,” the sand witch shrugged, her mood lightening, “I’m not gonna force ya. But I want you to have something.”
Sadira pulled out something pink and folded rather messily and handed it Dhandi. The girl unfolded it to its long full length, dropping to her feet. It was a scarf. Its woolen links zigzagged unbalanced and messy, exposing holes and knots.
“I took up knitting,” Sadira beamed. “You like?”
Dumbstruck, Dhandi smiled for a moment before pulling the scarf away from Halim’s grasping hands. The infant promptly screamed, kicking Dhandi’s side.
“Somebody needs a nap,” Sadira cooed, smirking as she picked Halim up. “The baby needs one too.”
Dhandi chuckled as she gathered up her scarf and shoes. “Want to come over for dinner some time?”
“That’s sound good,” Sadira replied, strapping Halim onto Dhandi’s back. “Should I bring something over?”
“Uh, you don’t have to do that,” Dhandi replied, hastily. “Really. Bye!”
Dhandi darted off, the babe bouncing against her back and howling like an injured jackal.
~*~
Panting, Dhandi leaned against the well in the back alley, Halim lying next to her. The child grunted as he struggled against his swaddling.
“Got you there,” Dhandi said as she wrapped her scarf around her head, imitating the modesty of Agrabah's older women. As if there was anyone there to be modest for. She held up part of the scarf to her face, giggling.
“Where’s Halli?” she asked, playfully. Halim gurgled, inquisitively. Dhandi pulled it down. “There he is!”
Staring at his sitter, Halim trembled frightened. Dhandi held up the scarf again.
“Where’s Halli? THERE HE IS!”
As if automatically, Halim resumed crying. Dhandi’s body sunk as she hit her head against the well. Her temples were throbbing. Why couldn’t he stop crying?
Suddenly, Dhandi sat back up and turned to the infant prince, smiling evilly. “You might want to stop crying,” she whispered, “or the mamluks are gonna get ya.”
Halim’s crying lessened as he grew curious.
“Once upon a time,” Dhandi began, picking Halim up, “there was once a girl who lived in the city of Para-Moor. She then moved to another city with her genie. It was good for a while, until one day, a sorcerer, old, ugly and evil, came. He came for her, because he wanted to be reborn and he had to have a mother to do it. So, he placed spell on her, so that he can go into her and be born again.”
Halim gurgled, his eyes widening. The alley seemed to be closing in on them as she told the story.
“But, in order for him to be reborn,” Dhandi added, holding her scarf closer to her face and holding up a finger, dramatically, “he had to teach her the spell and, with that, he had to teach her magic.”
Halim was moaning nervously, almost begging her to stop. Something was skittering about unseen tohis sitter.
“And so he taught her everything, even the spell to summon his undead zombies!” She threw up her arms dramatically. Halim screamed, very frightened. Dhandi lowered her hands and sighed.
“It’s just a story,” she said quietly, cradling the nervous infant. “Silly.”
Suddenly, the well resonated. Dhandi spun her head towards it. Holding the shivering babe, she slowly stood up and stared down the well. It was pitch black, the reflection that the water once gave off was gone since the water level shrunk over the years. Dhandi loosened a brick from its mortar and dropped it, a thick spluck echoing once it reached the bottom.
“There’s nothing wrong,” she said reassuringly to her charge. “You babies get worried over not-THING!”
Something had grabbed her wrist and pulled her over the wall of the well. Halim began screaming as Dhandi struggled to hold on to him whilst pulling away from the grip of her assailant, one leg over the wall.
“Let go!” Dhandi pulled, but the green, shriveled hand around her wrist pulled harder. With a shriek, Dhandi found herself and a terrified and screaming Halim tumbling down the darkness, the light above shrinking.
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Chapter 2: Welcomed Reunions
Chapter 2: Unwelcome Reunions
However, it didn’t feel like Dhandi was falling. It was more like she was being passed down, her body being grabbed and handed to another unseen force. Halim was screaming and quaking in her arms. Her head pounded both from her being out of balance and the infant’s frightened squeals. Disoriented, she almost didn’t look up when hands reached out and yanked Halim right from her arms.
“Halim!” she yelled as the child’s white swaddle disappeared in the massing darkness. Forcibly, Dhandi jerked from the grip and reached out. However, green hands reached out and grabbed her, wrapping around her like a grotesque olive-colored blanket. Within her ghastly constraint, Dhandi shrieked.
I’m dreaming! She thought, feverishly. I am home with Eden and Genie! I’m in Agrabah w-with Sadira, Aladdin, Babkak, and Wahid!
Suddenly, the arms and hands released and Dhandi plopped down on a stone floor. She rubbed her knees gingerly as she rose, looking around frantically. The hands had disappeared and a stone ceiling hung above her. A silver of light from cracks in the walls and ceiling barely illuminated the cavern.
Of course the last time I thought something was a dream, she added to herself, I got possessed.
“Halim?” She spotted something shivering and wrapped in a white cloth at the far end of the cavern. She hurried over to it and knelt down.
“Halim, we’re gonna get out of here and we’re gonna be alright,” she said to the bundle, picking up it. “You’ll see-”
Horror replaced relief as she found Xerxes the eel, snickering at her in her arms.
“Boy. Heeheeheehee”
Horrified, Dhandi threw him to the floor and backed away. Xerxes writhed out of the swaddling and swam closer to the alarmed girl. Dhandi backed into a wall, stammering as the familiar drew closer and licked her cheek. The girl recoiled fearfully.
“Now, is that any way to greet an old...acquaintance?” Dhandi’s spine took a plunge into a river of ice as that familiar slick voice oozed into her ear. Her fears were confirmed as Mozenrath sauntered casually into the sparse light. He didn’t appear too much older, save for his firmer jaw line, but the shadows cast upon his face aged him about ten more years.
“You!” Dhandi gasped.
“Me,” the sorcerer replied, scanning the fifteen-year old’s body with interest. He took a step closer. Dhandi responded by sliding away against the wall, but then was stopped by several pairs of the green hands which latched on to her body and held her in place like gruesome manacles.
“I don’t like it when people squirm away,” Mozenrath said, now only an inch separates them. He pushed aside strands of her hair and grabbed her chin, prodding Dhandi’s skin with his slender fingers.
“Not a lot of baby fat,” one of his many observations during his inspection of the girl. He pushed up her lips, running his fingers over her off-white teeth and pink gums. “Got all of your teeth in, big surprise.”
Dhandi replied by snapping at his fingers, but the sorcerer retaliated by striking her across the face. A pale red imprint of his hand glowed on her cheek.
“Never snap at a man,” Mozenrath shook his finger at her, condescendingly. “I swear, Xerxes, you’d think that genie of hers would teach her manners.”
Xerxes sniggered as Mozenrath continued his inspection, forming a disappointed frown as he felt her chest. “Hmm, a late-bloomer, Xerxes.”
Dhandi grew maroon in face, growing furious. Mozenrath removed his hand, smirking.
“Oh, look, she’s blushing.”
“You’re one to talk about manners!” Dhandi yelled. “Kidnapping us, scaring us, and prodding me like a cow at market!” Suddenly, she had that sinking feeling in her gut as the sorcerer continued smiling at her amused. Maybe she got him angry and he was planning something really bad. She had seen him angry and had felt the brunt of his fury that she had tried to hide in her head for the past couple of years.
“Where is Halim?” Dhandi asked, calming down but enmity for the sorcerer still evident in her tone.
“Who?” The sorcerer replied, mockingly.
“Halim, the baby. You took him.”
“Oh, him.” He waved his hand indifferently and the cadaverous hands released Dhandi. “Yeah, well, you didn’t seem to want him, so I’m taking him off your hands.”
“Give him back.” Dhandi glared at him. Mozenrath shook his head.
“Now, why would I do that? Are you gonna hit me if I don’t?” Dhandi frowned, offended as Mozenrath chuckled cruelly. “What’s done is done. Now if you ask nicely, I can make your stay here a bit more bearable.” He began walking toward a wall behind him and took out from his belt pouch a black doorknob.
“And where is here, exactly?” Dhandi asked. Mozenrath smirked, pressing the knob into the wall. She watched as he knocked on the wall three times before turning the knob and pulled open the door of stone. Light spilled into cavern, blinding her somewhat.
“You can come with,” Mozenrath said, as he and Xerxes filed out the door, “or you can stay here with the helping hands.” Turning away from the hands that reached out to grasp, Dhandi followed them, but keeping a few feet distance behind the sorcerer and his familiar. Passing through the door, the girl looked in awe. Instead of the familiar sands of Agrabah or even The Land of the Black Sand, she was staring at the terrain, mixed of gnarly green and blue forests, deserts of crimson rock and sand, savannas of pink and golden grass and rivers of changing color. But what imprinted into her head immediately was the giant, twisting maze of blood red rock that contained that terrain.
“Welcome to the Chaotic Plains,” Mozenrath announced, arms out spread dramatically, “Or at least, a part of it.”
“That-that,” Dhandi began, but then cleared her throat, “that’s a maze.”
“Labyrinth,” Mozenrath pointed out, almost gloating. “From ‘laburinthos’, ‘axe-house’. An inventor created one to hide a man-eating beast for a half-crazed king over in Crete years ago. An inspiration for me for these past three years. Fourteen people come in and none leave it, a sacrifice for the monster that lay in the heart of it. Pretty much the same thing here, except you want to go to the center. It’s the only way to win.”
Dhandi looked up at him, curious. “Win?”
“You want to leave with the kid,” the sorcerer said. “Well, just consider this a challenge.”
He grabbed her shoulder and pointed to the center of the maze. “Halim is being held in there. You find him in time, you both go free.”
Dhandi shrugged his gloved hand off. “What if I don’t?”
“You get to stay here with me.” Mozenrath smiled very slimily. “I heard misery loves company and I practically breed it.”
Dhandi shuddered slightly. “How much time do I have?”
Suddenly, something dropped into her hands. As Xerxes swam back to his master’s shoulder, Dhandi held up an hourglass on a chain in view. Black sand filled the very brim, but not a single grain was moving.
“Once I leave,” Mozenrath explained, “the sand will start flowing.”
“It doesn’t look like I got a lot time,” Dhandi pointed out.
“All the more reason for YOU not to dilly-dally,” Mozenrath leered as he and Xerxes began to vanish in black and blue smoke. “You have until the sand runs out. See you at finish line, Rabbit.”
Hearing the last chuckle of the eel, Dhandi looked at the hourglass. Indeed, the sand was flowing, but at three to four grains at a time. Putting the chain around her neck and letting the hourglass hang there, she looked up at the labyrinth. The story didn’t exactly put her mind at ease. What monster might he be hiding in there for her to find? She bit her lip as she slid down the blood red hill, feet bare and unaware of what might lurk there in the Labyrinth or even in the Chaotic Plains.
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Chapter 3: Getting In
Chapter 3: Getting In
Dhandi began regretting when her bare feet felt the first jabs of the pebbles on her way down the hill. Even with years of developing calluses upon her soles, each step felt like she was stepping broken glass. She looked up at the hazy violet sky, inquisitively. She had asked Eden why the sky was blue. She forgot what she said, recalling something about the sky mirroring the color of the ocean. She began to wonder if this place’s oceans were purple too when she ran into a browning juniper hedge. Sputtering, she looked up and saw the familiar red stones of the maze.
“Now, I gotta find the way in,” she said to herself, rushing alongside the hedges. She stopped in her tracks when she saw a tall lanky man, mumbling to himself as he clumsily swatted tiny dots of light on the other side of the hedge. She backed away, keeping him in her sight, but hopefully out of his. One of the dots of light pulled at his nose and the man swung his large hand to swat it, only to smack himself squarely in the face. Dhandi stifled laughter from behind the hedge, when the man suddenly yelped in fear.
“Who is there!” he squeaked timidly. “Master, I-I wasn’t shirking. I am your faithful servant-”
He stopped as Dhandi inched out from behind the hedge. His frightened appearance melted into a frown.
“Oh, just a little girl.” He turned away from her, rather impudently.
“Um, I was wondering,” Dhandi said, approaching a little bit closer to the man, “if you knew how to get in there.”
The clownish man ignored her, swatting the bright lights.
“Well, it’s kinda important,” Dhandi continued, following him. The man shrugged, stumbling comically with his own ungainly feet.
“You see, I have until the sand in this hourglass to reach the center,” she held up her hourglass, black sand slowly but surely piling up, “and I was wondering if you could help me.”
“I’m sorry, little girl,” he said impertinently, “but I don’t have time for you. I am busy with...eh, something!”
Dhandi frowned, but suddenly smirked as she reached into her pockets and pulled out something small.
“Too bad,” she said, loudly, “I was gonna pay you.” Like a dog to the familiar sound of a toy, the man spun his head towards her, covetously. She held up a tiny little pale pink conch on a thin piece of twine. Seeing that, he frowned, disappointedly.
“It’s just a shell,” he said. Dhandi smirked.
“Yes and no,” the girl twirled the shell around, playfully. “It’s the famed Conch of Para-moor, said to grant any wish to its owner.” The man gazed lustfully at the twirling shell, as if hypnotized.
“But since you don’t know how to get in,” Dhandi pulled it away from his gaze, “I guess I’ll have to find someone who does and reward them. Shame, really. I knew someone who wished for the Princess of Para-moor and she showed up on his doorstep on day out of nowhere-”
“Eh, wait for a moment,” the man said, hastily. “I-I could show you the way in. Anything for the sweet little girl with the pretty shell. Amin deMoolah offers his humble service.”
“Amin,” Dhandi repeated, fascinated. “It’s a very nice name. My name is Dhandi-”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Amin ignored her, quickly, “It is nice. I will show you the door.” The man stumbled towards the wall behind them, Dhandi following behind. He mumbled incoherently as he felt the vine-covered wall frantically. Suddenly, his hand stopped on an irregularly shaped stone and, balling it into a fist, he knocked on it. The wall rumbled as it parted in front of them, revealing twisting passages of stone. Dhandi stuck her head in, amazed.
“Wow,” she said, stepping inside. “Halim, I’m on my way-”
“Uh, little girl,” Amin interrupted, “what about me?”
“Oh, your fee,” Dhandi tossed the conch to the theif and began running. “Thank you, Amin! You’ve been a great help!”
Waving until Dhandi disappeared around a corner and the wall closed, Amin crouched down, gazing greedily at the tiny shell.
“Now,” he mused aloud, “do I get it to work?”
~*~
Mozenrath slumped in his chair, cheek leaning against his fist. His eyes focused intently on a spot near the stone ceiling, where a scene of Amin rubbing the conch furiously was playing like a filmstrip. The sorcerer rubbed his temples, annoyed by the wailing in the background.
“DeMoolah,” he sighed, “you are an idiot.” Xerxes hovered towards his master, turning to look at the scene.
“Butterfingers stupid,” he hissed. Mozenrath glared at his familiar, irritated.
“No kidding. Let’s see how our heroine is faring.” He waved his hand lazily and the scene changed to Dhandi, running her hand across the walls as she looked around, bewildered.
“So, he let her in,” he straightened up in his seat. He watched as she went down the passage and reached a dead end. “No matter, it’s all going to be pointless.”
He got up from his chair, walked towards the black cradle beside it, and leaned over it. “No matter what she does, you and your babysitter are still gonna be mine.”
Halim gurgled softly, staring back restlessly at the sorcerer. Mozenrath smiled at the babe, very much like a tiger would at a fawn.
“Yes,” he cooed, a mockery of parental affection, “you, her, and soon your daddy, the street rat, will be trapped here until the forces of Chaos tear at your very souls whilst I will get to strangle your mommy and usurp her throne. Yes, I will. Yes, I will.”
The sorcerer reached his hand into the cradle when Halim began to scream. Mozenrath withdrew, grabbing his ears painfully. Xerxes writhed upon the floor in pain.
“Stupid kid is definitely his mother’s son,” he seethed, lowering his gauntlet and pointing it at the cradle. A flash of that dark blue aura and the cradle was surrounded by a glowing dome. More importantly, the sounds of Halim wailing stopped. However, one could see that inside the dome, Halim was still bawling his lungs out. Xerxes, no longer writhing, swam towards the dome and stuck his tongue out at the babe, cries muted.
“I swear,” Mozenrath slumped back into his chair, unaware of the pair of glowing yellow eyes hovering above him, “that baby is begging to be shaken.”
“Always with the violence,” a voice chimed in. Mozenrath tilted his head up and saw the eyes, now with a mouth full of white teeth. “You run the risk of getting predictable.”
The sorcerer stood straight up and watched as a body materialized upon the back of the chair. It was that of a cat, though it was sky blue even much like Aladdin’s genie and it had a pair of massive wings upon its back. Mozenrath glared at the cat irritated as it leapt into the seat of the chair.
“My, guests,” the cat purred amused. “I don’t get many guests. If I knew you were coming, I would have baked a pie.” Mozenrath opened his mouth to complain, when suddenly a cream pie flew into his face, whipped cream and crust dripping down the front of his attire.
“Oh, wait. There it is.”
The sorcerer mirthlessly wiped the traces of pie from his eyes, still glaring venomously at the cat. Xerxes hissed at it, snapping his jaws. Suddenly, his tongue stretched out and began wrapping itself around the eel’s jaws, the familiar’s eyes bulging in surprise.
Grinning, the cat disappeared from the chair. Fuming, Mozenrath muttered a few choice words and the traces of pie flew off his body, not leaving a single speck.
“I hate cats,” he grumbled.
“Funny,” the cat replied, now perched upon the sorcerer’s turban, “’cause I like you.”
“Then why do you insist on tormenting me!” Mozenrath reached his hands up to grab the cat, only to pull off his turban, the feline not in sight. He looked around, growing increasingly aggravated. The cat not in sight, he threw his turban into his chair and sat on the armrest. He sighed, rubbing his temples as he heard Xerxes whimpering.
“That’s the trouble with you humans,” the cat reappeared on the armrest opposite of Mozenrath, the sorcerer nearly falling off, “you get so worked up over change. You need to loosen up.”
The sorcerer glared at the cat, lip twitching. “What gives you the right to bother me?” he roared.
Suddenly, the scene grew black and the cat grew to an intimidating proportion and stared down at Mozenrath. “I have that right,” the cat bellowed, “because I am Chaos, Master of this dimensional plane of disarray, whereas you, little sorcerer, have little power here.”
“I see,” Mozenrath replied, coolly. “And that would explain why I spent three years creating a labyrinth if I have ‘little power here’.”
“You made this place?” Chaos shrunk back down to his normal size and plopped down on Mozenrath’s head, much to the sorcerer’s chagrin. “I was wondering who made it. I like mazes. You never know which way will lead you to the finish.”
“Yes,” Mozenrath said, annoyed. Chaos leapt off his head and flapped his massive wings over to the screen, eying Dhandi.
“Ooh, another guest,” Chaos replied, pleased. “Must be my day.”
“More like guinea pig,” Mozenrath drawled, grabbing his turban. “Just a pawn in another of my plans.”
“Oh, still at it with your little raison d'etre, even though Fate smiles on Aladdin.”
Mozenrath glowered at Chaos as he pulled his turban back on and slumped back into his chair. “I don’t believe in fate.”
“What a coincidence,” Chaos purred as he lowered himself on the right armrest. “Fate doesn’t believe in you, either.”
“Oh, so a little cosmic kitty doesn’t like me,” the sorcerer scoffed. “Like I care! What I have done has been a result of my own doing, not the workings of a bunch of divine furballs!”
“And that’s why I like you,” Chaos replied, mirthfully. “You have tenacity. Even when Fate had condemned you to die, you didn’t take it lying down. I’m impressed.”
Mozenrath smirked. “That’s why you bother me?”
“It gets kinda boring watching you lose to Aladdin,” Chaos purred, Xerxes creeping up on him from behind. The familiar was ready to stomp down on Chaos’ tail when the cat suddenly set a paw down on the eel’s jaws. “I thought you needed a change in routine.”
Xerxes started whining as he struggled to get the cat off him.
“Actually,” Mozenrath got up from the chair, “I was getting ready to cause a little chaos myself.” Releasing the eel from his paw, Chaos followed the sorcerer to the screen.
“Planning a little something with your maze?” Chaos inquired, scanning the scene and grinning. “Oh, won’t she be surprised?”
“Probably. She lived a fairly dull existence, living in Agrabah.”
“Oh, I’ve been there before. I had so much fun.”
“Really?” Mozenrath said in mock amazement, turning back to the scene. “Even with all the strange things happening, she remains positive, cheerful, knowing that someone will come to the rescue and make it right again. The picture of youthful optimism and innocence. We have to help her.”
“‘The picture of youthful optimism and innocence’, hmm,” Chaos thought aloud, before turning to the sorcerer. “Why should I let you have all the fun?”
Mozenrath smiled as the cat leapt into the scene and disappeared. He chuckled to himself as he sat back down. Xerxes swam over to his master, blowing a raspberry at the scene.
“Good riddance,” he rasped as Mozenrath roughly pushed him aside.
“No,” the sorcerer disagreed, “it’s wonderful.”
“Wonderful!”
“I just got the greatest force in the cosmos to do my bidding.” Mozenrath smiled implacable at the scene as Dhandi went further in the maze’s twisting passages.
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Chapter 4: Fifty-percent Chances
Chapter 4: Fifty-percent Chances
Dhandi looked around as she backed out of the dead end. The trouble of this maze was that all the walls looked alike, not a single tell-tale sign of where she was or which passage she came from.
It was going be confusing, she thought, when I get Halim and get out of here. I can’t tell the difference.
She clenched her scarf, her fingers twirling in the loose yarn. A swooping of a strange bird of dark blue and red over her head startled her, ripping her hand away from her scarf. The bird growing smaller in the distance, Dhandi turned to her scarf, now unraveling in her hands. A frown appeared on her face as she looked sadly at her scarf. However, as she turned towards the wall behind her and the passage ahead of her, her expression lightened up.
~*~
Dhandi rushed through the maze, the yarn of her scarf quickly unraveling behind her. She had reached a dead end, but she doubled back, collecting the yarn. As she went down the next passage, she looked at the hourglass. The black sand collecting at the bottom bulb was a third full. The sorcerer wasn’t fooling about time.
She turned the corner at her left. In her head, the screaming of Halim as he was taken away in the cavern played over and over. Dhandi stared up towards the center. Eden had once told her that Mozenrath didn’t show mercy to his enemies. What chances did a baby have against him when she didn’t?
Eden! Dhandi thought, as she came across the yarn trail and headed backwards. Does she even know Halim and me are gone? Does anyone? Would they even think to look for us here?
Coming around the corner, her jaw nearly dropped on her feet as she saw what remained of her trail. A wall of blood red stone stood where the passage once was, the string of pink yarn clamped between the corner. Dhandi yanked the line and, with a snap, out came the end. She held up the neatly severed end and pouted.
“So much for my plan,” she whined softly as she lightly knocked her head against the bricks.
“You just need to be more flexible.” Dhandi spun around and two doors stood in front of her.
“Those weren’t...” she began as she leaned forward and inspected the hanging door knockers. They were a pair of smiling cats, rusty bronze and pointed their façade was.
He didn’t really seem like a cat-person, she thought, or even a pet-person. They’re kinda cute though.
Dhandi reached her hands up to touch, when one of the cats blinked. She pulled her hands away. Her eyes narrowed inquisitively.
“Did one of you guys...talk to me a while ago?”
The cats looked at each other.
“I did,” the one on the left said.
“No, you didn’t!” the cat on the right snapped. “Stop lying!”
“I’m not. You stop!”
“Um, listen,” Dhandi interrupted. “I need to get to the center of the maze and I see no other way besides your doors here. So, which door leads the center?”
The cats looked at each other once more.
“We can’t tell you,” they both replied. “Rules! However, you may guess. One door continues your journey and one door leads to DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!” The twin doorknockers moaned dramatically. Dhandi shook her head, unimpressed but grinning.
“So,” she inquired, “do I have to...ask you guys?”
“You may ask only one of us a question,” the one on the right replied.
“But, as a rule, one of us tells only truth,” the left continued.
“And the other tells only lies.” His brother finished. “So there.” The left one stuck its tongue out.
Dhandi rubbed her head in thought. Her friend Babkak had a knack for riddles. He was able to answer this one riddle in nothing flat. She forgot how it goes or how he answered it. Something about a spinning mouse and why. Making riddles were her specialty; solving them was another story. She looked up at the doorknockers, making faces at each other. She then looked at the hourglass, still running at its deceptively slow pace. It wasn’t that she was an idiot at riddles. It just took her time to solve it and time wasn’t abundant in this case.
“Worth a shot,” she said to herself after a moment of though. She turned back to the doorknockers. “One question. Cat on the right.”
The right doorknocker looked up. “Yeah?”
“Answer yes or no,” Dhandi stepped closer to him, “Would he-” She pointed to the left doorknocker “-tell me that his door leads to the center?”
The right doorknocker gulped as Dhandi stared him down. Dhandi was often told by Eden that if you wanted somebody to do what you want, a good long stare was effective ninety-nine percent of the time. After a long pause, the right doorknocker answered meekly, “yyyesssssss?”
“Then your door must be the one that leads to the center!” Dhandi exclaimed.
“But how are you so sure?” The left doorknocker gasped. “He could be telling the truth.”
“But then you would be lying,” Dhandi explained. “You both disagree and so if one of you says something, the other has to disagree and since he agreed on what you said, he would have to be the liar.”
“But I could be the liar,” the left added.
“Yeah, he could be the liar,” the right doorknocker repeated.
“Shut up!” the left one snapped.
“There you go,” Dhandi asserted. “So the door on the right lead to the center.” The doorknockers looked glumly at each other as the right door screeched open.
“Thank you!” Dhandi said as she walked through. “Halim, I’m on my wa-!” The floor gave way mid-sentence as was the custom of bubble-bursting and our heroine found herself going down a massive, twisting slide and at lightning speed.
~*~
“And the answer is, folks,” Mozenrath said to the screen, inflection likened to a carnival barker, as Dhandi twisted and turned on the slide in the dark, “they both were lying!”
Xerxes sniggered at the screen as the colorful commentary continued.
“Now what lies for our heroine at the bottom? Quicksand? Rusty spikes? Poisonous snakes? Quicksand with rusty spikes AND poisonous snakes? Will this be the end of the girl? We certainly hope not, unless she was a complete IDIOT and forgot how every single darn thing I’ve ever taught her!”
~*~
It was being to seem that way as Dhandi continued sliding down, no sign of slowing.
Her hands grew raw, trying to cling to the sides of the slide. However, it wasn’t entirely dark. Light filtering through the odd mesh above her revealed slide and its destination- a floor of pitch black that appeared to be squirming like a sidewalk covered with worms after a rainstorm. Dhandi turned green as she propelled suddenly into the air as the slide ended.
Screaming as gravity was taking back control; a blue rope whacked her in the face. Reflexes often saving her in the past, she grabbed on the rope as she fell towards the floor. She stopped an inch above the squirming floor, before being shot back up in the air and crashing through the ceiling of overgrown vines and branches that meshed together.
~*~
Mozenrath began to spew a raging stream of profanities as he saw the girl fly through the air from where he stood.
~*~
The hazy sunlight blinded her for a moment as Dhandi’s eyes adjusted. Opening her eyes, she saw the entire landscape the labyrinth enveloped for one short moment when she suddenly began to drop back down. Somersaulting in the air, Dhandi quickly traced the path in her mind as she crashed onto a hedge. Her body quivering in pain, she emerged from the shrubbery, scratches present on her face, twigs and needles tangled in her hair, and her already mangled scarf unraveled completely. Pocketing the remains of her scarf, she sat down and looked at the hourglass. Its top bulb was half-empty and was continuing to pour.
A weary look on her face, Dhandi slumped backwards and laid on the brick path, breathing heavily and face towards the sky.
Don’t give up, she could hear Eden say. Dhandi smiled slightly. Everyone she ever knew had told her that at one point. Just get up. Nothing’s worth anything unless you work for it.
Nothing’s worth anything unless you work for it. He told her that a long time ago, when he was using her. Did he lie to her then as well when he was Amir? Dhandi shrugged as she pushed herself back up. She looked behind her, passages of blood red stone behind her, and to her front, groves upon groves of gnarled black trees stretching far.
“At least I made it this far,” she told herself as she began to walk down the path. “I can make it. I got to.”
~*~
The irate Mozenrath grabbed the screen and held it in his hand, flipping through frames of past scenes like a picture book.
“She couldn’t have conjured it,” he muttered to himself, staring at the frame where Dhandi grabbed the blue rope. “I didn’t teach her that. Maybe that...no, genies can’t teach humans magic, not my type anyway.”
He inspected it closer. The rope had black stripes.
Black stripes, he mused. Where have I seen them?
Then his lips fashioned a sneer as the sorcerer’s fist pounded on the armrest.
“That stupid cat! Chaos!”
“You called?” Mozenrath spun around and there was the cosmic feline jester resting atop the chair’s back.
Back to index
Chapter 5: Assembled Pawns
Chapter 5: Assembled Pawns
Mozenrath took a good minute to glare poisonously at Chaos, who had leapt off the chair and made his way to Halim’s cradle. Perhaps it was Chaos’ nonchalance as he dangled his tail above the gurgling babe playfully. Whatever the reason, the sorcerer did not appear amused.
“Well, you called me,” Chaos chimed as Halim giggled, eagerly reaching up for the cat’s tail, “and I rarely come when called. You don’t seem bored. I told you I would liven up your labyrinth.”
“What you are doing is helping her!” Mozenrath seethed, losing his patience. “I didn’t ask for YOU to aid HER!”
“‘We have to help her’,” Chaos said, parroting the sorcerer’s voice perfectly. “Nope, you actually did say that and I did. Besides, she didn’t expect that to happen.”
Mozenrath sneered as he turned away from the cat and went down the hall. He marched past stone walls, randomly engraved with intricate arabesque lines that formed his homeland’s mark. Xerxes hovered beside him, looking back at Chaos nervously.
“This is what I get for asking an Incarnation for help,” he grumbled as he climbed up stairs. Above his head, dizzying stairways going in and out of walls in dimensions that he could not possibly use, whether out of vertigo or simply not caring. He finally reached a trapdoor and pushed it up. He climbed up and into the meagerly furnished chamber, only a black divan and a size-varying assortment of terracotta jars the occupants. He pulled off the lid of the large one and reached his hand in. Xerxes looked as his master pulled out a hand full of black sand. “Well, I want something done; get somebody else to do it.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Chaos asked, appearing and plopping down on the jar next to Mozenrath. “Then again you usually enjoy doing it yourself.”
Mozenrath just looked at the cat, sourly. Xerxes scurried behind his master, apprehensively watching Chaos.
“Oh, black magic,” Chaos said, interested. “You’re really pulling out all the stops for her, but you do that anyway for everybody.”
“Yes,” Mozenrath muttered to himself. “She’s not so special.” The sand shifted from his hand to the other. “Yes, just another annoying kid. Keeping me awake at night, making me feel...unnatural-” He said “feel” with much scorn.
“But I can’t help that, Amir.” Mozenrath’s eyes became saucer-size as he spun around and saw Dhandi standing behind him. The sand spilt through his fingers. “You became part of me that day and I you.”
The sorcerer recoiled as the girl approached him and wrapped her arms around him. However, he doesn’t push her away. Rather, he placed a hand on her head and slowly combed his fingers through her coarse hair. Xerxes hovered above the two, making queasy noises. Mozenrath blinked suddenly and stared at her, disgustedly.
“I will not be hoodwinked,” Mozenrath seethed, pushing her roughly onto to the floor, “the least of which by you.” As Dhandi fell to the floor, she transmogrified back into the sky blue Chaos.
“Oh, almost never on the first date,” the cat replied, “but there’s no denying it. You were acting most out of character because of her.”
“It wasn’t real,” Mozenrath exhaled sharply as he turned back to the jars. “But let me guess,” he grumbled, “Fate has decided to bring me and that brat together. I thought you didn’t like Fate.”
“I don’t,” Chaos leapt onto his shoulder, “but it wasn’t Fate. It was me.”
The sorcerer stared at the cat for a very long time. Though he didn’t utter a word, his twitching eyelid and throbbing vein upon his right temple spoke volumes. Xerxes swam behind the jars, nervously. His master appeared to be on the verge of exploding.
“I take it you’re still grasping it,” Chaos grinned, “though it wasn’t so much as planning to bring you together as giving you a little push in that direction and letting you play it out on your own.”
Mozenrath growled as he reached for the cosmic feline, but only grabbed air as Chaos dissipated. The sorcerer snarled as he clenched his fist.
“WHAT RIGHT HAVE YOU TO TOY WITH ME?!” he bellowed.
“I told you,” the cat’s voice chimed. “You needed some change and of course, she was most unexpected. All of the other elements assumed a fellow sorceress or even a princess of unnatural beauty would have been the one.”
“You forget I’m married to my work,” Mozenrath replied, curtly. “I CAN’T afford such weakness.”
“Oh, but even then you believed it,” Chaos smirked (if it was possible for a disembodied voice to do). “You also believed it a minute ago.”
“What’s there to believe?” Mozenrath explained levelly, though still maroon with anger. “I was merely playing with the emotions of an impressionable child to my own ends. The ritual required her to do it of her own will and I wouldn’t be here defending myself if I hadn’t been proactive with her motivation.”
“Yeah,” Chaos mewed, “but it got a little bit boring after you made your presence made to her genie with your usual threats, though the little foray into the Underworld was interesting. But, overall, it needed a twist.”
“A twist?” Mozenrath repeated incredulously. “A twist-” He sputtered angrily as he pulled out shard of translucent violet amethysts from his belt pouch. “I can’t be the butt of your jokes if I’m not here. Land of the Black Sand!”
He held the glowing shard above his head, as if waiting to attract a bolt of lightning. However, to his surprise, the shard made a few sparks before becoming dim. He inspected it for a moment, shaking it and tapping it against his palm a few times, before he grimaced sourly. The crystal that he had used to go in and out of the Chaotic Plains wasn’t working and he had a fairly good idea who was behind it.
“I see you want me to stick around longer, Chaos,” Mozenrath observed, calmly though scorn was clearly evident in his tone. “What is it now?”
“Just including you into the fun that Dhandi is going to have,” Chaos replied, reappearing upon the sorcerer’s shoulder. Mozenrath glared at him, bordering on resuming his fit. Chaos merely patted his cheek with one paw and leapt off. “Just call it a game.”
Mozenrath scowled as he pushed Chaos off. “I don’t have time for it.”
“Oh, but it's house rules,” the cat replied, landing gracefully the lid of one of the medium size jars. “Come to think of it, I don’t have any rules.”
Xerxes peered up and, with a frightened hiss, scurried back down as Chaos shot a mischievous look at him.
“I call this little diversion, ‘First Kiss’,” the cat said. “The only rule is to get a kiss from Dhandi before her time runs out.”
“That’s it?” Mozenrath replied, skeptically. “I have to kiss her before she-”
“Actually,” Chaos corrected him, swatting at Xerxes, “SHE has to kiss YOU and something tells me neither of you have much time.” The familiar hissed viciously as the feline Chaos Incarnate grabbed his tongue, stretched it out like a rubber band, and sent it shooting back into the eel’s throat.
“What? What happens after her time runs out?” The sorcerer didn’t like where this conversation was going.
“Not sure,” the cat yawned, “but maybe I would like to keep you around a little longer. I don’t many visitors here.” Yep, Mozenrath did not like where this conversation was going. Just then the sorcerer glanced at the jar that Chaos was sitting on and a glint of cunning followed as he mentally recalled its contents.
“All right,” Mozenrath asserted calmly, “I’ll play your game and I’ll make sure she does too.”
Chaos leapt off the jar and onto Mozenrath’s turban. “Glad to hear it,” he purred happily. “I can’t wait to see how this turns out.”
The sorcerer frowned crossly, his arms crossed and fingers’ drumming against them, when the feline disappeared one body part at a time until his Cheshire smile was left. Mozenrath lifted the lid of that jar and took a pinch of the olive green powder with in. He released it into the palm of his gloved right hand and sniffed it, the earthy scent of this ground herb burning into his sinuses and producing a twisted smirk on his face. Dusting the powder off, he scooped up the black sand that had spilt on the floor, held it in his gloved hand as it glowed blue, and blew it into the air. The sand swirled until it formed the screen like the one he had used to spy with in the throne. Upon it was the layout of the entire labyrinth, almost like a map, if maps had ant-size people moving across them.
“DeMoolah,” he said to the screen, not noticing Xerxes nervously curling onto his shoulder. The screen blurred as it shifted across the labyrinth until it focused on the tall and lanky figure of Amin DeMoolah, best known, to his dismay, as...
“Butterfingers!” the sorcerer called out.
“My name is NOT Butterfingers,” argued the thief, huddled over a tiny conch. “It’s A-Ah, Master!” DeMoolah’s indignation jumped to fevered groveling when he turned to look and saw Mozenrath’s face hovering behind him. “O Merciful One for who I am nothing but a slug-”
“Save it,” Mozenrath snapped dispassionately. “I have a job for you.”
Back to index
Chapter 6: The Swamp
Chapter 6: The Swamp
It had seemed very pleasant to Dhandi as she through the forest. The fear that she had before had eased into curiosity for the gnarled trees with leaves of darker shades. Her bare feet felt the pricks of the thorns and twigs that accumulated upon the path. She had ducked her head as one of the strange birds of the labyrinth when she heard humming. Dhandi turned her head about, looking for the source of the melody.
Finding no one, two choices came to her head. She could call out to the hummer and wait for him to appear, though past experiences had taught her that it could easily be someone who could hurt her. She could also merely wait for him behind a tree, though this was just as liable for assault as her first option.
“What ya doing?” Dhandi yelped as she spun around and saw a smile hovering above a branch. Curious, Dhandi got on her tiptoes and watched as a pair of yellow eyes dropped down, just above that smile. “Ah, all clear now.”
“You...you’re a cat,” Dhandi smiled, amused, as Chaos materialized in front of her eyes. “Wow, you-you’re blue like Genie!” Dhandi began clicking her tongue, the international language of little girls trying to lull cats into a false sense of security. Chaos yawned and rolled his eyes. Quite literally, since his big yellow eyes rolled off his face, down the tree and landed at the girl’s feet. Dhandi jumped a few feet back as Chaos leapt off the branch, eyeless but somehow able to find Dhandi, and began rubbing against her leg.
“You’re...not like other cats, are you?” Dhandi observed, her tone uneasy.
Somewhere, possibly nearby, somebody was saying “Well, DUH!”
“Are you a genie?” Dhandi asked. “Eden once told me genies sometimes take the form of animals.”
“Maybe,” Chaos mewed, “maybe not. You never really know.” He flicked a claw and his eyes flew back into their sockets. “By the way,” he added, leaping onto the knot of an exposed root, “you might find him if you take to the right.”
Dhandi’s eyes widen. Was somebody finally giving her a straight answer in this place? “Who?”
“Mozenrath.”
A smile of relief spread on her face. “I will?”
“Will what?” Chaos replied.
“Find him that way,” Dhandi replied, pointing to her right.
“Who?”
“Mozenrath!”
“Who’s Mozenrath?”
“D’oh,” Dhandi groaned, growing frustrated but the hourglass caught her eye. “I think you’re a bit confused and it’s not that I don’t want to help you out,” she said, calmly turning to the right of the path, “but I really need to go.”
“Aww,” Chaos flicked his tail, “but I would really like you to stay.”
“If I don’t get to the center in time,” she explained as she walked a little bit quicker, “that would be the case. Bye!”
Chaos curled up on the knot as Dhandi disappeared behind a bush, going down the trail.
“Perhaps it was the left path I meant,” Chaos mused. “Oh, but won’t she be surprised?”
~*~
The path had grown rockier, causing Dhandi to resort to walk the rest of the way on the tips of her toes, sadly to no avail. She took a moment and sat down on the nearest thing, a log. She held her foot up, now throbbing red in spots on her feet. Dhandi winced as she plucked out a thorn.
Suddenly, something chuckled. Dhandi looked around. Maybe it was that blue cat again. Then again, it was at a higher pitch than the cat.
The chuckle seemed to double, two distinct but still high pitch. Then came three. Four. Five? Six, seven?
Suddenly, a quick jab in her thigh later and Dhandi bolt upright. Rubbing her thigh vigorous, she turned to the log and found pixies, wild haired, multicolored pixies that like to swarm. A smile stretched across her face.
“Hi there,” she said, reaching out towards them. The pixies scattered as her hand drew close. They chattered as they swarmed around her head and began pulling at her hair.
“Hey!” Dhandi yelped as she backed into a brick wall, swatting at the pixies. Suddenly, something plopped down on her head. She found the end of a rope. She looked up the wall and saw at the top that clownish man, Amin deMoolah. Pixies still beating against her, she began to climb up the rope.
Finally, making it to the buttress, Dhandi grabbed Amin’s hand. With a look of relief, Dhandi swung her arms around him, the thief resisting. Suddenly, the floor gave way and the two fell through, screaming.
The pair careened down a tunnel, passing through cobwebs and dangling roots. Dhandi screamed, but then stopped and turned to Amin beside her who was screaming at a very high pitch. Suddenly, the slide stopped and the pair flew out of the tunnel, into daylight and into a very gnarled tree down below.
“Uh, hi, again,” Dhandi said to Amin, hanging upside down. She managed a weak chuckle as Amin, scowling, opened his mouth.
“Always, bad things happen whenever I meet you,” Amin complained, his gangly legs tangled in the vines. “Pixies bite me; Master berates me and threatens to throw me in the Swamp of Armis Slime...”
“And would that be the Swamp?” Dhandi pointed down and taking a glance, Amin let out a shriek. The overgrown swamp, covered in weeds, gurgled with pools of what looked like black tar if tar was capable of reaching out and snatching those familiar specks of light.
“Ah! Merciful Allah!” Amin writhed in the vines, twisting himself and then Dhandi. The girl yelped as the vines wrapped around her arms and whipped her off the branch, making her fall. The pair dangled several feet above the ground like a duo of marionettes tangled in their own strings. “Ah! It never fails!”
Dhandi sighed as she began pulling at the vines wrapped around her hands, grunting with effort.
“Come on,” she thinks to herself as she pulled, “break.” Suddenly a taut snap heard, but before Dhandi could celebrate, the vines grew slacked and the pair fell to the foot of the tree painfully. Amin groaned as he rose to his feet, but turned white as he saw the pools of black tar-like slime. Dhandi, rubbing her head, sat up, saw the pools for a moment and looked up at Amin.
“Are they dangerous?” she asked as she rose, clinging to the tree. Amin, still white with fear, bobbed his head like one of those toys Genie had shown her, a small, big-headed man named Pete Rose. Dhandi picked up a rock off the ground and hurled it towards the nearest pool. The slime quivered and engulfed the rock before it could hit the skim of the pool. Dhandi’s face contorted with disgust as she backed into the tree. “That would answer that question.”
She turned to look at Amin, but found that he was gone. “Amin?”
She looked around the tree and found the thief huddled in a fetal position.
“Uh, Amin?” she asked, reaching out her hand and tapping him on the shoulder. The thief let out a long and terrified scream. Dhandi whipped back her hand and the screaming ceased. After a pause, she reached her hand towards him again, but the thief screamed again before she could place a hand on him. Pulling her hand back towards her again, she looked over at the thief and grimaced uneasily. She slowly stuck her finger out and, as if scheduled, Amin screamed.
“You’re so weird,” Dhandi sighed, shaking her head. “Did he do this to you?”
Amin stopped screaming and looked up. “Who?”
“Mozenrath,” she replied.
Amin let out a yelp and huddled back into his fetal position.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” the girl said to herself. She sat down on the tree root beside Amin. “Listen, Amin. Have you ever thought of...quitting your job?”
“You don’t understand,” Amin huffed like a four year-old, “I can’t- uh, how did you know I worked for Mozenrath?”
“I don’t know,” Dhandi shrugged. “You were panicking over something when we first met and...well, why can’t you?”
“Little girl, I’m a coward,” Amin whined, “and he scares me.” He turned the other way and began mumbling beneath his breath. “Here for three years...miss pie.”
Pulling the hourglass out and glancing at it briefly, Dhandi sighed as she regarded Amin as someone would a scared puppy. “I stand a pretty good chance of getting out of here...” (Amin scoffed at this) “...but I could use some more help. I could pay you.”
“Oh, like that shell you gave me earlier,” Amin grumbled. “It didn’t work.”
“I must have given you the wrong one,” Dhandi lied. She paused for a moment as she turned her back to Amin and rubbed her chin in thought. “I know this lady in Agrabah who makes these delicious pies,” she said finally, emphasizing the word “pies”. “There’s this really good pie. I think it has these really sweet chunks of dried persimmons. Too bad, I’m stuck here. I could really go for some-”
She turned around and saw Amin standing erect behind her, eyes glistening with longing and lust.
“So, we have a deal?”
~*~
“Uh, little girl,” Amin asked Dhandi as she looped a vine around his waist, “what are you doing?”
“It’s a life-line,” Dhandi explained, tying it off. “If one of us gets pulled into the slime, the other can pull them out. I heard it from this guy who used to be an explorer.”
“Yeah, but how will we get across? It’s everywhere.”
“We’ll cross on that strip between those pools.” Dhandi pointed to the thin levee between the writhing pools of black slime, as she wrapped the other end of the vine around her waist. “I hope our balances are good.”
Dhandi tied off the vine and tugged at the rope. “Let’s go.”
The pair walked towards the levee, Dhandi taking a deep breath and Amin’s teeth chattering. The slim gurgled as they stepped upon the levee, the girl picking up the slack of the vine.
“So far, so good,” Dhandi thought to herself, holding on to the rope as she and Amin made halfway across. However, her relief was short-lived when Amin yelp and climbed on top of her, frightened.
“Amin!” she yelled, the weight of the cowardly thief pressed down on her shoulders. “We don’t have time for this. You need to get down!” Her knees wobbled as Amin shook his head. “Amin!”
“THE SLIME IS CREEPING!” Amin shrieked, pointing behind them. Dhandi turned and immediately turned sheet-white. The black slime had latched onto the levee, pulled itself out, and was gaining towards the pair. Dhandi stared at the slime, apprehensive, as Amin scrambled on her with fright to get away from the slime. The slime crept closer, Dhandi back stepping away from it.
“Amin,” she whispered to the thief, “I want you to get off me.”
Amin whined, too frightened to speak.
“I can’t run with you weighing me down. When you get off, we’ll both run to the trees.” Her eyes hinted to the forest brush feet away from the pools. “Count of three, we run.”
Amin whimpered as he looked at the slime and the trees that seem to have shrunk back further in an instant.
“One...”
The slime was at grabbing reach. Sweat was pouring down Amin’s forehead.
“Two...”
Suddenly, Amin darted across the levee, dragging Dhandi like she was a kite. The girl’s legs flailed in the air as the slime leaped towards them, a deluge of massive proportions. The thief and the girl screamed as they twisted through the tangles of gnarled trees, felled branches and tall weeds. The slime oozed through the forest like rain through a window screen, its residue clinging to its hubris.
“Look!” Dhandi yelled as they reached the clearing on the other side. “I can see the center of the maze! It’s so close!”
Suddenly, Amin and Dhandi found themselves somersaulting over a massive fallen log and falling flat on their back, painfully. Dhandi scrambled back to her feet when her eyes widened. The slime reached for her, face in range of its appendage.
Suddenly, it shot back into the forest with a snap. Dhandi climbed over the log and saw that the slime was stuck to the trunks of the trees, gurgling angrily. Amin peered over the log and, seeing this sight, fainted.
~*~
“Amin? Amin?”
The thief opened his eyes and Dhandi was standing above him, waving her hand in front of his eyes. Amin yelped and sat up.
“Little girl!” he snapped. “Don’t ever do that again! Even if you promise pie.”
“Sorry,” Dhandi apologized. “You weren’t out too long.” She then smiled slightly. “You were pretty brave. Did you know the slime would do that?”
“I was?” Suddenly, Amin cleared his throat and posed boldly as if posing for a statue. “Uh, yes, I was. Armis slime is very sticky.”
“I can see that,” Dhandi chuckled. She looked back towards where the center laid and pulled out the hourglass. She looked at it, a small confident smile on her face. “We might actually make it in time.”
Amin bit his lip, uneasily. “Uh, Dhandi?”
“What is it, Amin?”
“I, uh, know this short-cut that might-”
Dhandi grabbed his shoulders, excited. “You know a short-cut to the center of the maze?”
Amin nodded his head sheepishly.
“Well, come on! Show me!”
~*~
The sun reflected upon the field that seemed to shimmer like gold. It had nearly blinded Dhandi and Amin as they walked out of that patch of forest.
“Are those...daffodils?” Dhandi asked, holding her hand up to her eyes.
“Yes,” Amin replied, not looking at her.
“Wow,” Dhandi lowered her hand from her brow, “it’s beautiful and I can see the center. It’s much closer now.” Dhandi darted from Amin’s side and began wading through the daffodils. The powerful collective scent of the flowers burned Dhandi’s nose. “Well, come on. Amin?”
Amin doesn’t reply. In fact, he seems to disappear from sight completely as Dhandi’s vision faded in and out.
“Amin?” She yawned, her walking becoming more disoriented. “Could you...help me for a moment? I think my legs aren’t working right? Left, maybe? Maybe they’re working left?”
She began to giggle as she began to twirl in the flowers, the trumpets of the flowers brushing against her body.
“The world is dancing.” She plopped down on the soft ground, the sky spinning in her opiate-soaked mind’s eye. She sighed as her mind began to dance and her eyes closed.
~*~
Sticks of incense spewed smoke about Mozenrath, the sorcerer’s legs crossed upon the floor and hands hovering above a bowl and brush. In one hand was gripped a silver needle, which with he pricked his index finger. Blood dropped into the bowl, soaking into the olive green powder rapidly. He then took a vial of sweet, acidic-smelling liquid and poured it in. His gauntlet glowed as the bowl’s contents mixed together into a strong, earthy-smelling paste.
Mozenrath breathed in the mixing scents of the incense and the concoction as he sung in a low voice:
Djed-I,
Hab reswet en Dhandi.
A’q sey,
A’nen-es en wi.
He exhaled sharply, the smoke scattering and rising out the window. The sorcerer smiled maliciously.
“Pleasant dreams, Rabbit.”
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Chapter 7: Dream a Little Dream of Me
Chapter 7: Dream a Little Dream of Me
Cinnamon, myrrh, and other strong, exotic scents snapped Dhandi back into awareness as she walked into the cavernous tent, decorated with rich fabrics draping from the ceiling and alive with the sounds of sensuous music and the vivid hum of speech and raucous laughter. The women, dressed scantily in rich, deep colors and jewelry that hung from their forms, curled into the laps of men, stroking their partners suggestively as they purred. Dhandi rubbed her shoulder, growing uncomfortable, only to find that her own attire was just as scant. Gone was her unassuming orange dress; her top was of a transparent, flimsy material that if it were not the clever placement of draping strings of pearls, she could almost swear that she was topless, and her harem pants were of a vivid shade of violet with short slits down along its length, exposing her the skin of her shivering thighs. She quickly placed her arms across her chest, her face now turning beet red.
She had accidentally backed into the snake charmer, his cobra spitting at her from between its master’s legs, when she felt a hand upon her bare shoulder. She gasped as she turned and looked at the hand’s owner, a young man, perhaps fifteen of age like her. The young man in dark blue held out his cape and bowed respectfully before her. The alarm she had eased into curiosity as she reached her hand to his face. That long, thin face was so familiar. Her finger twirled playfully one of the black curls that got loose from his turban. She looked into his dark eyes that, to her shock, were focused on her small chest.
Disgusted, she pulled her hand away, but the young man caught it and held it firmly against his chest.
“I’m not made of stone,” he said to her, pressing her hand closer. She felt the throbbing of his heart, in tune with the timbrel’s steady beat. “I bet you got one somewhere in there too.”
He then placed her hand against her chest and pressed down firmly. Dhandi’s heart beat against her ribcage, like a bird thrashing against the bars of its cage.
“Nervous little thing,” he smirked, removing his hand, “aren’t you? Maybe we can fix that.”
Dhandi turned away, but she could feel his hand gripping firmly around her wrist. She turned back to him to protest, but, glancing at his serene expression, words fail to form. She swallowed the lump in her throat as he gently pulled her back to his side. Why couldn’t she run away? She shouldn’t be this helpless, easily falling for this persistent courter.
Maybe she knew him. That face was familiar enough. He seemed to know her skin just as well. Is this body even her own? She had never felt as uncomfortable with herself as before. Perhaps he was mistaking her for someone else, someone more confident in herself and her surroundings.
Dhandi clung to the man’s chest, his heartbeat beating steadily. The rest of the tent seemed to disappear as she listened, his heartbeat hypnotically calm. She didn’t notice his fingers running through her coarse hair.
“Now, that wasn’t so bad,” he whispered to her, “was it, Dhandi?”
“Dhandi?” Dhandi asked, looking up. The young man sniggered, amused. Embarrassed, the girl blushed and smiled uneasily as she backed away. “I-I’m so sorry. I forgot myself for moment.”
“It doesn’t really matter here,” he replied, stretching his hand to her. Dhandi looked at it for a moment and hesitantly placed her hand in his. Grasping it firmly, he led her to a corner of the tent, a small, low table resting in the center of a ring of cushions.
“But, where is here?” Dhandi asked as she sat down in front of the table. “Or even what?”
“A wedding,” the young man explained, sitting down and pulling out a covered terracotta bowl from his cape.
Confused, Dhandi looked around. She shook her head as she glanced at a couple, enjoying their licks of the other’s fragrant skin. How strange of place to have a wedding! Men and women cuddling each other like animals, in attire befitting more to a loose night in a king’s unguarded harem.
“Whose wedding is it?” she asked the young man. He looked up from his bowl, stirring with a brush. Dhandi leaned over, the strong, earth-scent of the paste tickling her nose. “What’s that?”
“Henna paste,” the young man explained, “nothing more.” He tapped the brush on the rim of the bowl, paste dribbling down its side. “Hold out your hand.”
Dhandi looked at the contents of the bowl. Was henna supposed to be this black? Unresisting, she held out her hand and the young man took it.
“There’s this old tradition,” he said, dipping the brush into the paste. “The night before a wedding, the couple writes their names into the designs that they paint on each others’ hands. Whoever finds the other’s name first, the name’s owner has to reward the finder.”
Dhandi thought for a moment and then smiled playfully. “All right, if I find your name first, you have to kiss me.”
“And you’ll give me that kiss if I find your name first,” the young man smirked. Dhandi nodded as the young man pressed the tip of the brush upon her palm. Dhandi squirms in her seat as she tried to keep her hand steady. The henna felt cold as he continued to paint delicate decorative lines. Dhandi rubbed her head with her free hand. Her brain was pounding. Something seemed to be missing to her.
“Your turn,” the young man replied, as he handed Dhandi the brush. She blew on her painted hand and dipped the brush into the henna paste with her other hand. She made the mental picture of her design, tracing it in the air just above the young man’s hand. Drops of henna dripped upon his palm and Dhandi winced at her mistake.
“Don’t give up,” he said reassuringly. “Connect them.”
Dhandi gingerly pressed the brush down and glided it upon his palm, slightly crooked lines of varying thicknesses the result. Soon his hand was nearly covered by her curlicues and little strayed henna dots.
“Don’t forget your name,” the young man reminded her. Dhandi began scanning his hand and found a tiny little clear space just below his thumb. She bit her lip as she recalled the name of the letters in her name.
“...dhāl..,” she wrote the first letter of her name, followed by, “...‘alif...hā’...dāl...”
As she finished last dots of “...yā’..,” she rested her head upon her hand. Then she felt strong yet sweet drink sloshing against her lips.
“Drink,” the young man said to her, holding up a bronze cup to her lips. Dhandi looked at the contents and sipped, the sweet, acidic drink burning her throat as it went down. It reminded her of when she accidentally dropped a piece of honey candy into a barrel of pickle brine and sucked on it after fishing it out. However strange the taste was to her, she took another sip. Low giggles ensued when the young man took the cup from her.
“I really liked that,” she half-whined. As he took a swig from the cup, she squinted at her painted hand. “...’alif-mīm-yā’-rā’...” she spelled it aloud before chuckling; now knowing. “Your name is Amir.”
“I guess I would owe you a kiss,” Amir grinned, “if I hadn’t found yours first. Just below my thumb.” He held up his hand and pointed to that exact place.
“No fair,” Dhandi laughed, “you cheated.”
“How do I know you didn’t peek?”
Dhandi chuckled, holding back drunken laughter. “Fine. Hold still.”
She leaned forward, eyes closed. Her lips are puckered, prepared to his lips. Suddenly, she wobbled and fell, sprawling on the table. She looked around frantically for Amir when her eyes fell on an hourglass, sand running out steadily. What did that hourglass mean to her?
Dhandi ran to where she entered. She drew back the curtain and her eyes widened as the deception unveiled. She knocked upon the clear, curved glass before dreaded realization set in.
She and the party were inside an hourglass.
Panicking, Dhandi pushed against the glass, perchance it might break. Suddenly, she felt the hourglass move. She tumbled as the tiny little world was turned upside down. The “wedding guests” screamed as the center of the bulb began to swirl and sucked the traces of a ruined orgy down into the void. Dhandi frantically began crawling away from the vortex, but a mixture of soft sand and a strong current sent her sinking down, getting closer to the void.
Then she just vanished.
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Chapter 8: Concerning Amin
Chapter 8: Concerning Amin
Amin paced back and forth beneath a massive tree with gnarled branches, mumbling anxiously. He looked back at the field of daffodils, only a half a mile away. He whined and began pacing again.
Twenty minutes ago...
“Butterfingers!” Mozenrath called out from the portal window from behind the crouching Amin.
“My name is NOT Butterfingers!” Amin growled, indignantly. “It’s A-Ah, Master!” Upon seeing the sorcerer’s face behind him, Amin fell to his knee and began his fevered groveling. “O, Merciful One for who I am nothing but a slug-”
“Save it,” Mozenrath snapped, dispassionately. “I have a job for you.”
Amin looked up, inquiringly. He fingered the shell and its twine in his hand and smiled slyly.
“Iwishiwasbackhome,” he said quickly, feeling confident. He would out of this place, his prison of three years. However, nothing seemed to happen. He didn’t feel any different and worse, Mozenrath was still right in front of him, now grabbing his head in aggravation.
“Amin,” the sorcerer said, derisively shaking his head, “we have to get you another brain cell to give the other two company. She lied to you.”
“No! It works!” Amin rubbed the shell so vigorously; one would almost assume he was starting a small fire. “Uh, I wish I was back home! I wish I was back home?”
Little doubt that Mozenrath was being entertained by this act of desperation; he was sniggering, making no attempt to hide it. Amin, his hand red from rubbing the shell so hard, stared long and helplessly at the shell, letting out a pathetic whimper.
“I only tell you the truth,” Mozenrath said to him in a slimy, condescending tone, leaning forward towards the thief. “She was merely getting your hopes up. You know you can’t leave like you did five years ago. Remember that?”
Amin merely nodded his head.
“Remember that I own you.”
“Y-yes,” Amin whimpered.
“Very good, Amin,” Mozenrath smiled, quite smugly. “Now, find the girl and take her to the fields. I know she likes daffodils. She can’t resist going in-”
“Is she gonna get hurt?” Amin interrupted.
Mozenrath scowled sourly as he raised his gloved hand and Amin was suddenly engulfed in a massive aura of blue, shocking his body and making him cry out in pain.
“I-I am sorry, sir,” Amin simpered and the sorcerer lowered his hand, the shocks ceasing.
“Is she really worth you getting hurt by me?” Mozenrath asked, mockingly. “Tell me. Was it that a shred of humanity reawakened in your pathetic being just because she gave you a trinket? Have you two become bosom buddies, sworn to overcome adversity, et cetera, et cetera?”
“She just seemed...nice?” Amin replied, uneasily.
“Word of advice, DeMoolah,” the sorcerer said, as he stroked Xerxes who was lying upon his shoulder, “Never trust nice girls; especially ones that are interested in you.” Mozenrath brought his hand to his chin and rubbed it. “The Armis slime is restless at this hour.” He turned back to Amin and grinned nastily. “If a girl is too much for you-”
Amin yelped and darted away.
Present Time...
Amin stopped pacing and looked at the field again. He snorted derisively.
“Why should I help the little girl?” Amin thought. “She lied to me about the shell, made me look like a fool.” His expression softened. “She promised pie, I miss pie.”
He shook his head. “But what if she lies about that too?” He looked up at the hazy purple sky and shuddered. The past couple of years had not soothed Mozenrath’s temperament as the thief recalled.
Three years ago, Getzistan...
Amin panted, the ripped bag clenched in his hand dribbling gold coins as he leapt over barrels. His breath was frantic and shallow, his free hand clenching his chest. He glanced about the alley, the darkness encroaching all over. He yelped in fright when he heard a crash. He looked down and found only a scrawny rat crossing through. He sighed in relief and turned, only to turn sheet white as he stared the sorcerer right in the face, only an inch away.
“Boo,” Mozenrath said rather half-heartedly, but the effect on Amin DeMoolah was devastating as the thief stumbled backwards, muttering frightened. The young sorcerer ambled casually towards Amin and pushed him on to the ground. Amin scrambled to get back up on his feet, but his attempts were thwarted when Mozenrath stepped his boot upon the thief’s chest very firmly.
“DeMoolah,” the sorcerer drawled, pressing down on Amin’s chest, “funny meeting you here. I was in the neighborhood and who would I find here?”
“Me?” Amin replied meekly.
“That’s a good boy,” Mozenrath said as if talking to a dog. “Now, this question has been bugging me for ages, why would you be here, in Getzistan, and not back at the Citadel? Take your time.”
Amin looked up at the sorcerer. He had a pleasant smile on his face, but that glint in hisblack eyes suggested malice. Not taking this in mind, Amin muttered-
“I ran away? Because you were dead?”
Mozenrath let out a small chuckle which became a laugh that echoed in the alley. “Do I look like corpse?” he pointed towards himself. “Do I?”
“N-no.”
“So, do you know what happens to servants who run away from their masters, who aren’t dead?”
“T-they get punished,” Amin whimpered as Mozenrath pressed his foot down harder, the thief’s ribs jabbing into his lungs. “Mercy, please! I won’t do it ever again!”
“No, you won’t,” the sorcerer snarled as he drew from his belt pouch a shard of pale violet crystal. Holding the crystal out, Mozenrath grinned cruelly. “Where you’re going, it would be quite impossible. Chaotic Plains!”
Present Time...
Amin shuddered as he glanced at the field. Dhandi appeared to be flailing her arms now amidst the daffodils. Suddenly, he started running towards the field. His brain was slow to act with his legs, arguing as his scrawny legs carried him closer.
“But she lied to you,” his brain said to him. Amin kept on running. Truth had never been much comfort to this thief. Truth held him to be a coward, a lousy thief, and have a single digit IQ and a face like the bad end of a camel. Truth also held him to be an unwitting and trapped servant to a young tyrant who was not known for clemency. In lies he had found some comfort, especially with the promise of pie. Someone had once said, he forgot who, that if someone told enough lies, eventually some of those lies would become truth.
Amin reached the edge of the field, his two brain cells working overtime. Dhandi was now covered in daffodils; this species appeared to have evolved vines over time while in the Chaotic Plains. He skidded to a halt. What use would he be to her if he falls asleep in the field as well? He whined, unsure of the next step he should take. He began pacing when he tripped and fell over. When he looked at his feet, he had made the discovery that the remnants of a very pink scarf had twisted itself around his ankles.
He glanced at the scarf and then at the field. A ridiculously long pause ensued, the sounds of the Chaotic Plains Labyrinth ambling through the thief’s ears. Amin took another look at the scarf and suddenly a light switched on in his brain after a long delay. He pulled the scarf off and began to wrap it around his face, tucking it down as not to obscure his vision.
Taking a breath, he turned and placed a foot down upon the daffodil covered ground. However, he whimpered and jumped back. A second passed and he approached the field again. Exhaling, he jumped right into the daffodils and waded through it, frantically looking Dhandi. Halfway into the field, he tripped over a green mound. Scrambling back to his feet, he found that the mound was breathing. Frenetically, he tore at the vines, revealing the girl who appeared quite pallid. With the vines clinging to her body, one would almost mistake her as one of those statuaries that adorned more expensive cemeteries.
Feeling disoriented (possibly the strong scent was finally getting to him), Amin picked her up by the arms and began to drag her, the vines pulling back. Dhandi groaned quietly in her induced slumber. Amin grunted in effort, the vines becoming taut against the strain. He pulled harder, his feet digging into the ground until he heard a loud snap and he and Dhandi somersaulted across the field, tumbling and uprooting flowers until they flew out of the field of daffodils and landed, sprawled upon the overgrown trail.
Amin shook his head and yelped, blinded by pink. However, he then found that the yarn of the scarf had pulled up into his eyes. Ripping the scarf off, he turned to Dhandi, lying beside him. He crept up to her, inspecting her body. He shook her, now muttering worriedly. She doesn’t reply. He whimpered as he shook her harder.
He bit his over sized lip as he hastily searched his brain for a plan. Looking back at Dhandi, one idea popped up. His lips trembled as he knelt down towards Dhandi, looking into her eyes. His lips drew closer towards hers.
Suddenly, Dhandi’s eyes shot open and she and Amin exchanged looks of surprise and alarm for a good several minutes.
“Amin?” Dhandi asked, slightly confused.
“It’s not what it looks like!” Amin muttered quickly, scuttling away from her. “Uh, I don’t like you that way- no, that’s not what-“
Amin’s incoherent ramblings were interrupted by Dhandi’s shrieks. He turned and saw her staring frightened at her hand, covered in black lines of mehandi design.
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Chapter 9: Let Me Fall
Chapter 9: Let Me Fall
Apart from following behind Amin upon the trail, Dhandi had spent twenty minutes trying to scratch the black lines off her hand. This endeavor reaped only peeling skin and sore fingers with absolutely no effect upon the mehandi. The girl looked up towards the horizon, the center of the maze growing closer in view. She glanced at the hourglass, the precious sand nearly spent.
He lied to me, Dhandi thought bitterly as she looked at her hand, AGAIN! I can’t believe I fell for it. She sighed as she lowered it. Her cleverness had failed her the second time Mozenrath had invaded her dreams.
But why? She asked herself. Why did he take up the guise of Amir again? He had even admitted to me that he loathed being him.
She recalled their reunion, that uncomfortable moment in the cavern where he had felt her up. Was it just an excuse for him to make her quiver, remind her of how much she hated him? But why did he take Halim then? She scoffed at this question. He also hated Aladdin and Jasmine and, from what she had heard from Eden and Genie, took onto himself to make them miserable, so how could he resist taking the one person they both loved?
Halim, she sighed despondently. Why couldn’t I’ve done more to keep him safe? Me and Halim wouldn’t be in this mess if I’d just zapped those stupid hands with a fireball or something...No. No, it still wouldn’t have made a difference even if I still used magic.
She looked up and saw the massive gate, adorned in gargoyles in a shiny black metal, and Amin pulling at the enormous doorknockers, in the form of a pair of grotesque gargoyles, no less. She suddenly wore an expression of resolve. No. No, I have to finish this. Halim and Amin will be let down if I don’t.
Dhandi approached Amin, placing her hand on his shoulder. The thief let out a yelp and turned to her.
“Dhandi,” Amin said, “I’m sorry for what I...you have to understand my-”
“Amin,” Dhandi interrupted, “I know and understand, but I’m not mad.” She pauses, rubbing her toe against the stone of the path. “If anything, I should be thankful that you came back, but right now, I seriously need your help.”
Amin shuddered as he turned away from her.
“Amin,” Dhandi followed him, pleading, “You know more about him than I do.” Amin whined, trying to avoid her. “How did he get here from the other world? Was it a portal?”
“I don’t want to get involved anymore,” Amin whined. “He won’t let any of us go.”
“Don’t say that!” Dhandi retorted. She paused and looked at Amin. “You’re right. Mozenrath is gonna make it hard for us, but he took somebody from me.”
“Who?” Amin inquired.
“Halim,” Dhandi replied, “a baby and he’s probably so scared, being away from his mom and dad.” Amin’s lip began to tremble. “I don’t want to leave him with that creep. But if I fail, well, I would practically be giving him away to Mozenrath.”
Dhandi stopped when she heard the bawling of the thief. She stared at him, confusion evident in her expression. Apparently, whatever she had said had an effect on him. Shaking her head, she tapped his shoulder and he looked at her with tear-soaked eyes.
“Amin, anything about him would be useful.”
Amin, wiping his nose with his sleeve, snorted. “I remember him taking out a crystal from his pouch and saying ‘Chaotic Plains’ and the next thing I know...I’m here.”
Dhandi took a moment to digest this. “A crystal...he has that pouch on his belt. He took probably took that doorknob from that.” Amin cocked his head in curiosity as he looked at the doorknocker and pressed down upon its tusk. “So, that’s-”
Suddenly, the ground rumbled as the gate doors slowly parted revealing the twisting passages of this sanctum. Dhandi turned to Amin, who was attempting to whistle nonchalantly to no avail.
“Let’s move.”
~*~
“Master! Master!” Xerxes shrieked as he swam up to the upper chamber. He found his master curled up on the divan, snoring inaudibly. The eel hovered closer, an inch away from the sorcerer’s face. He had a serene look upon his face, the expression of satisfaction one gets when they’ve done something that actually worked. Mozenrath had it for the first time in years.
“Master!” Xerxes hissed and, as if rehearsed, the sorcerer’s eyes shot wide open. Sitting up, Mozenrath turned to his familiar and grabbed him by the throat.
“I was having a good dream,” he scowled. “Aladdin’s head was on a lance. Why won’t you let me savor that moment? ”
“They-she’s-” Xerxes strained, his eyes bulging, “she’s here...”
“Really?” Mozenrath answered, releasing his familiar, the eel plopping down upon the floor. The sorcerer got off the divan and headed towards the stairs. “Time to roll out the welcome wagon.”
~*~
Dhandi looked around, lightly touching the walls as she walked. She looked up, seeing the edifice rising above the inner maze.
“It must be the center-most point,” she said to herself. She squinted, eye upon the windows that adorned the structure. Suddenly, she saw him, the man in dark blue walking by in the window. She clenched her fist, motivation renewed by anger. “Amin, let’s try this way!”
Amin turned to the girl, who pointed to the passage on her right. The pair went down that way, only to encounter a dead-end. Back tracking, they then took to the left. The path winded, the pair glancing up to keep the edifice in sight. They turned at a corner and came upon passage littered with corpses, green, slumped against the wall, and still clutching their scimitars.
Amin gulped, Dhandi following suite, as they treaded carefully on the path.
“I hate dead bodies, I hate dead bodies,” Amin whined repeatedly. Suddenly, something juicy squished beneath the sole of his shoe. He looked down and let out a long “ewwwwwww.”
“Ugh,” Dhandi groaned, but then glanced back at their guide, the edifice. “On the bright side, we’re almost there.”
Amin ignored this, his focus set on scrapping the purple gunk off his shoe. He lifted his foot and shook it, the ooze staying put. That method failing, he scrapped it across the wall, leaving a long, dripping streak upon the stone. Suddenly, he heard a rattling. He darted back to Dhandi’s side, gripping her arm and huddling uncomfortably close to her.
“Uh, Amin,” Dhandi asked the thief, uneasily due to both claustrophobia and the unsettling aura that their surroundings emitted, “how many people were here before me?”
“Uh, why?” Amin’s eyes darted about.
“Well, dead people just lying there, armed...somehow this just feels a bit-”
“What?” Amin clung closer.
“-like a trap.” No sooner did Dhandi said those words, Amin turned and let out a piercing shriek. Dhandi turned and her eyes widen as she saw a troop of mamluks standing behind she and Amin. Dhandi and Amin exchanged looks and both screamed-
“Run!”
The pair darted, the army of mamluks limping after them, swinging their scimitars.
“This way!” Dhandi shouted as she and Amin rounded a corner, only to be met with more mamluks. Backing away slowly, Dhandi glanced up at the structure. It was so much closer; all they had to do was go around a corner. However, that corner was being guarded by shambling half-dead soldiers/slaves. She grabbed Amin’s hand and turned to him. “Amin, on the count of three, we run.”
Amin nodded his head quickly. Dhandi mouthed “one”, Amin bracing himself to run away. “Two” came after, the thief clenching his fist. When “three” was reached, however, Amin found himself being dragged along side Dhandi, not away from the mamluk army, but squarely into the stomach of one of the undead soldiers. Dhandi had head butted a mamluk in half and was leaping over its remains. Amin, still gripping her hand, knocked down four more as he was swung around like a mace. Using a move that she had often seen Eden used, the girl kicked one in the stomach. Mamluk parts strewn about the passage soon after, the pair bended over and panted heavily.
“Eden made this look so easy,” Dhandi wheezed. “It’s like kicking, what, ten pounds of flour, each?”
Amin nodded, very flushed in the face. However, the ruddiness of his cheeks faded to white soon enough when he glanced behind his back. Disembodied mamluk parts began to crawl towards them like oversize spiders. Amin and Dhandi darted, though acutely sluggish from the previous battle. They leapt over mamluk parts, tramping on them as the gruesome appendages attempted to grasp.
They turned the corner and they beheld a large door of dull obsidian. Holding up the hourglass (a thin layer of sand still in the top bulb), Dhandi turned to Amin.
“Thank you again for helping me,” she said, thoughtfully. “But there’s one more thing I want you to do if the all of us are going to be free.”
Amin cocked his head at a margin as Dhandi leaned towards him and whispered into his ear. His face contorted into various befuddled expressions until the girl pulled away.
“You got it?”
Amin nodded slowly. Dhandi then turned to the door and pushed it with all the strength that an exhausted fifteen-year old girl could fathom. The heavy door moaned as it opened. A long dimly lit hallway laid before them.
“Amin, stay hidden.”
The thief nodded affirmatively as they both stepped inside. As Dhandi walked down the hall of ebony pilasters, Amin broke away and stepped behind the row. Dhandi was now alone. The lone light source ahead, she continued to walk towards it. Her heart was pounding against her ribs. Her journey in this strange land was about to end, but she could find no relief in that sentiment. She stared at her henna-ed hand. A thousand questions formed incoherently out of those curving lines, the most blatant came from “Amir”.
A wail halted these questions in their tracks, a baby’s wail coming from the room up ahead.
“Halim,” Dhandi mouthed, her walking dissolving to a canter and, soon after, a run. Her heart pounded harder and faster, the light growing brighter.
She had entered the throne room.
“Dhandi.” Hearing that unenthusiastic voice, she turned to Mozenrath who was sitting upon his throne, one leg idly over its armrest. “You made it and, oh, with time to spare.” He pointed to the hourglass. Dhandi looked at it. Indeed, the thin layer of sand had changed little from the time she passed through the inner sanctum’s door.
“Where’s Halim?” Dhandi demanded.
“Halim,” the sorcerer placed his index finger upon his smooth chin in mock contemplation. “Ah, yes. He’s over there in that cradle.” He pointed to the black cradle four feet away from his throne. “All you have to do is pick him up.”
Dhandi glanced at Mozenrath, suspiciously. The corners of his mouth were slowly forming a smirk. What was he thinking? Surely, something was brewing under those black curls. However, her thought-process was interrupted by a shriek from Halim, who was being molested by Xerxes who was gnashing maliciously at the infant.
“Get away from him!” Dhandi rushed to the cradle’s side to rescue the babe from the eel’s harassment. However, the moment she reached her hand, she flew- or rather, was thrown- from the cradle and crashed onto the black marble floor, like a rag doll by an invisible hand. Bewildered, Dhandi attempted to get up, but getting up proved a struggle unto itself for her body felt as heavy as lead. Her eyes turned to Mozenrath who was smiling quite haughtily as he rose to his feet.
“Honestly,” he drawled as he walked towards her, “you should know by now that you can’t trust anything, especially your dreams.”
Dhandi panicked in her helplessness. He was right, but why did he have such power over her? Suddenly, her stomach felt sick as she realized what she had dreaded.
“You know now,” Mozenrath oozed, looking down at Dhandi. “Well, thanks to you, I now hold you in the palm of my hand.” He laughed with a sort of perverse giddiness as he held up his left hand, decorated in mehandi with Dhandi’s name in the middle of it.With that action, Dhandi limply rose to her feet, like a marionette. Mozenrath leaned forward at her chest, eying the hourglass, sand still trickling down. He smirked slyly as he looked at Dhandi, who was standing there powerlessly.
“You still owe me a kiss,” he drawled as his elegant hand began to move, his two middle fingers touching his palm. Something began to burn in her head. Her eyes began to shift in and out of focus, the sorcerer’s rigid body becoming softer in her mind’s eye. Her heart began to beat quicker. She tilted her head, gazing with curious longing.
Suddenly, a crash was heard and Mozenrath turned away, searching for the cause. Dhandi, breaking away that mindset, mouthed “Amin”. From a corner of her eye, she saw the thief, clumsily trying to hide behind the pillars of the throne room, and, unfortunately, the sorcerer, who was an inch away from discovering Amin’s hiding place.
“My Lord.” Mozenrath turned to Dhandi, oblivious to Amin behind him. “I have never realized how...exceptionally beautiful you are.”
Mozenrath met this with a very, very slimy grin. “And how do you find me as such, little Rabbit?”
Dhandi slinked towards him, an eye still on Amin.
Good, good, keep him distracted, she said to herself. Amin, get Halim.
“You’re so tall,” Dhandi purred, “your skin is like, uh, cream!” She raised her voice at the end of the sentence when she caught Mozenrath peering over his shoulder. She strode quickly up to him and rested her head against his chest. His focus rested back on her as he uneasily allowed her to reach her hands upon his shoulders. She accomplished this by standing on her tiptoes. She wasn’t lying when she said he was tall. “I-I look at you and I look back on how...how much you affected me. You gave me a taste and...I want some more.”
Mozenrath raised an eyebrow as Dhandi rubbed her face against his tabard and tugged at his belt. “Well, now,” he grinned, “you’ve certainly changed your tune.”
Behind his smile hid a different objective, however. For five years, starting on the night of when he came back to his Citadel after his rebirth, a spark had ignited in his brain. He blamed it on the week his spirit had spent in the ten year-old’s mind, but every night to that day, he fostered a vision of her, dancing in upon the sand. She enticed him, despite her lack of mature feminine curves. No, it was because in his mind she felt...soft, like the fur of a young doe. However, he would then wake up and attempt to scrub his sin off, but it would still linger, even if he would tear his own hide to be rid of it. To say that he had never been a godly man would be the understatement of this millennium and possibly the next, but even he felt his own soul was damned because of her.
Within his sleeve, he hid a knife and his hand was twitching to unsheathe it.
“I’ve been a child so long,” Dhandi moaned quietly, as she twirled a lock of his curly hair around her finger. “I need some one to make me a woman.” It would scare her later on of how much of her seduction wasn’t made up on the spot. Whether it had been all her or just Mozenrath’s spell working upon her, it would forever be a mystery to both of them. However, it was no mystery to Dhandi when Xerxes began to shriek, as well as Halim. Fearing that Amin’s cover was about to be blown, Dhandi grabbed Mozenrath’s face and pressed her lips to his.
The noise of the outside became mute to the sorcerer’s ears; the resounding beat of his own heart became deafening. His twitching hand became placid as he rested it upon the girl’s back, clenching the fabric of her modest dress. Dhandi gripped on to his tabard, this strange ecstasy rising within her as well. Not even the screaming plead for resistance in her head could make her part.
However, what finally made them was Xerxes who had collided into the back of Mozenrath’s head. The sorcerer spun around and snarled at his familiar when his eyes met with Amin’s as the thief picked up Halim from the cradle. His black eyes glared mercilessly as he bared his teeth like a rabid jackal.
“YOU!”
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Chapter 10: The Rabbit and the Minotaur
Chapter 10: The Rabbit and the Minotaur
“You!”
Mozenrath snarled as he lifted his gauntlet, its aura glowing as it prepared to attack. Dhandi, gasping, quickly grabbed his turban with one hand, pulling it over his face. Furiously, he backhanded her blindly but firmly, the force throwing her to the ground. The sorcerer was infuriated. He didn’t even hear the rip of fabric. He pulled back his turban from his eyes, spotting Amin deMoolah and Halim, in his arms, darting from pillar to pillar in an attempt to hide. A shot of dark blue fire from the sorcerer’s gauntlet hurled itself towards the pillar, Amin diving to avoid it. Shards of marble rained down around the thief, the babe wailing in his arms.
“You might want to get up,” Mozenrath yelled. “I don’t miss twice, deMoolah!”
Amidst Halim screaming and the threatening hum of the gauntlet, Amin managed to hear-
“AMIN, CATCH!”
Mozenrath spun around and saw Dhandi throwing overhand a familiar glimmering jewel. In an instant, he spotted the loose threads of where a black pouch once was.
The shard!
Everything seemed to have moved more slowly the instant the shard flew out of the girl’s hand. Amin, carrying Halim in one hand, “darted” out, hand out reached. Mozenrath, on the other hand, made a dramatic dive as the shard descended back to earth. Xerxes gaped as did Dhandi at the final result.
Amin, having caught it in his mouth, possessed the shard. Just then time sped back up again, with Mozenrath ramming straight into the thief’s stomach. Halim screamed as the sorcerer grabbed Amin’s throat.
“Open up,” he seethed, throttling Amin’s neck. “GIVE IT TO ME!”
Suddenly, Mozenrath found himself knocked down to the floor as Dhandi leapt onto him, pulling at his curly hair. Amidst the struggle, Dhandi called out to Amin.
“Go! Go back to Agrabah!”
Fumbling with Halim and the shard which he had spat out, he clasped it in his hand and muttered: “Agrabah!”
A violet flash occurred and Amin and Halim vanished, leaving Dhandi and Mozenrath alone in the throne room. Dhandi, having seen this, managed a small smile of triumph before the reminder of her dilemma came in the form of a sharp and painful jerk of her ponytail.
“You may have saved the brat and the imbecile,” Mozenrath hissed venomously, “but you lost your only way out. And I’m still hungry.” A predatory grin appeared as he uttered these words. Dhandi, panicking, thrashed against him, stomping on his foot. The sorcerer let out a howl of pain, releasing his grip on her hair. Skidding upon the marble floor, she ran into the dimly lit hall of pillars.
Clinging to one of the pillars, Dhandi panted, feeling drained. She glanced at the hourglass, the top bulb completely depleted of sand. It didn’t really make much of a point to her at that moment to look, other than it being out of habit. Her henna-ed hand, which held up the hourglass, now appeared to have black veins. She glanced around frantically, her body pressed against the pillar as if by powerful suction. Her heart beat quickly as she heard the fall of footsteps and the rustling of fabric.
“Dhandi,” Mozenrath’s calm, casual voice echoed in the hall, “why won’t you come out?” Unbeknownst to the girl, the sorcerer had laid his hand upon the other like an axe blade. “Why don’t you tell me where you are?”
Even to him, this was an obviously poor attempt to get somebody to reveal themselves. However, Dhandi, through no fault of her own, blurted out-
“I’m right here!”
She clasped her hands over her mouth, surprised of what she had said. His low and cruel chuckle echoed in the hall.
“A bit of loose tongue we have, don’t we?” Mozenrath’s voice was growing louder and closer.
Dhandi whimpered softly, growing more frightened.
“I wonder what else I can get out of you. There’s an infinite number of possible questions I could ask you, but given the time we both have left-” In the dark, a smirk appeared on his face. “Oh, I always forget. The Chaotic Plains is going to shift again and I can only keep it stable for so long.”
Dhandi’s eyes widened in alarm.
“So, I’ve decided to ask you just one question.”
Dhandi’s heart pounded. He sounded so close now.
“I know you are capable of being a witch,” Mozenrath said, now just behind the pillar Dhandi was hiding behind, “that at anytime you could have used magic to aid yourself and Amin in my maze, but you didn’t.” Frozen in place, Dhandi shivered as he reached towards her chin and lightly ran his fingers across it. “Why didn’t you use your magic and please, elaborate.”
Her throat salivated, trying to keep her mouth from opening. She rasped through her nose, her eyes watering. Mozenrath tapped his fingers upon her chin, impatiently.
“Tell me, wench,” he seethed.
“I-I quit doing magic,” Dhandi mumbled, “When I was eleven. It hurt too much, ‘cause whenever I thought of my mage light, you came into my head.” The corners of Mozenrath’s mouth formed an amused smirk. “I hated you. I hated that I wanted to be with you.” Big tears began to gush from Dhandi’s eyes. “You hurt me, Amir.”
Suddenly, Mozenrath glared at her maliciously, his eye twitching.
“Don’t call me that,” he seethed, his tone cold as ice. Dhandi turned her eyes towards him.
“Why?” she asked, curious now. “Why don’t you want me to call you ‘Amir’?” Mozenrath withdrew his hand from her chin, wrinkling his nose as if he had smelled something foul. She slowly stepped away from her pillar, approaching Mozenrath. He backed away slowly like one would an angry, rabid animal. “You used that name twice when you got into my head.”
“I have no attachments to that name,” the sorcerer hissed, but his incensed expression melted down into a face of composure. He stopped, only a few inches away from the girl. “I only used it because of your attachments to that name.”
“So why won’t you let me call you ‘Amir’?” Dhandi demanded; Mozenrath’s face faded to a sickly pale green. “You’re freaking out over it like you do have attachments and-and I can’t just not, because you’re right. I’m attached to Amir and you, once, were him.”
She glanced quickly at his hand; the mehandi began squirming, metamorphosing into black veins like the ones upon her own hand. She smiled slightly and quickly turned her focus back upon Mozenrath’s face, now looking very perturbed and wan.
“That’s why,” she asserted, “you will always be considered to me as Amir.” Suddenly, after a pause, Mozenrath staggered towards her and backhanded her across the face. Dhandi tumbled to the floor, sticky, red blood dribbling from her nose.
“Your stupidity knows no bounds,” Mozenrath said in quiet, icy tone. “You shall mercifully be rid of it soon.” He let the knife drop from his sleeve and into his hand. Dhandi didn’t even see this as she got back on her feet, but when she turned her head, she jumped back as the sorcerer lashed out at her with the knife.
“Well, if I can’t have you,” he said in a calm voice, “I can at least have your heart.” Dhandi had the appearance of deer having light shone into its eyes. She jumped back as Mozenrath staggered forward limply.
Something must be wrong with him, the girl thought as she darted behind a pillar. Indeed, the gait of the sorcerer was more akin to that of somebody suffering from a weak heart. The clash of metal against stone was heard and Dhandi was off.
The girl panted as she ran, but she tripped over her feet, whether by her own or his doing. Whatever the case, Mozenrath quickly gained with her on the ground once more. He held the knife above her head; eyes alit with malice and weariness and beads of sweat running down his brow. Dhandi’s head swam with thoughts, feverish and frightened.
Please, don’t do this, Amir, she pleaded in her head. Her hand began to prickle. It felt like her hand was on fire. She watched as the knife came down.
No!
Her hand flew to block, expecting the blade to pierce her. However, she doesn’t feel it. There was no feeling of cold metal or of sliced flesh. She lowered her hand and noticed that not only Mozenrath was not in front of her, but was slumping against the pillar that was three feet away. She gazed at her hand, when she then heard the sorcerer groaning and slowly rising to his feet. He glared at her like an angry panther. He even started snarling.
“That name has no power over me,” he said, though not towards Dhandi. He said it as more of a mantra. However, somebody failed to mention to him that mantras don’t work if spoken aloud as Dhandi shot her hand forward and Mozenrath was thrown against the pillar as easily as a rag doll.
“That name has no power over me!” he shouted, now getting desperate in his tone as he repeatedly thrashed against the pillar. Dhandi, her lip curled, kept pushing her hand in the air.
He deserves it, she thought bitterly as gushing tears flowed down her cheeks. He lied to me, he hurt me. He hurt everybody I love. Why shouldn’t he hurt-
Her heart stopped when she saw him go limp. In an instant, the massive hatred Dhandi had felt for Mozenrath turned into worry as she lowered her hand, lowering him to the ground as well. She walked slowly towards his still body. Perhaps it was a trick, to catch her off-guard. She now stood beside him, the sorcerer still not stirring. She knelt down and, grabbing his shoulder pads, turned his body to face her. Her eyes widened, alarmed by the massive bruises he had sustained upon his face. Blood soaked into his turban and stained it a darker shade of plum. Her hand shaking, she slid her fingers beneath the silver choker he wore. A strange sense of relief washed over her when she found that his neck throbbed with a pulse.
She then rose to her feet and walked back to the throne room, feeling rather triumphant.
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Chapter 11: To the Victor Goes the Spoils
Chapter 11: To the Victor Goes the Spoils
(First Ending)
The surprise came when she walked unsteadily back into the throne room. Her eyes became a lit with surprise when she saw Chaos curled up on the throne, Xerxes squirming underneath his paw. Chaos looked up and smiled.
“So, you have beaten the Minotaur,” Chaos chimed, “Though it got a little one-sided as soon as you started beating his head against that pillar, you and Mozenrath have certainly entertained me.”
Dhandi doesn’t reply, but rather she sat down on the floor. She wiped her bloody nose with her sleeve. Chaos leapt off the throne, Xerxes still bewildered from this encounter with the feline Incarnation. Dhandi could feel the cat’s wings rubbing against her.
“You’re usually more talkative than this,” Chaos said.
“Is he gonna...you know?” Dhandi asked, turning towards Chaos. “I mean, I didn’t really mean to-”
“Who can predict,” the cat replied, “but if he does wake up, I imagine he’ll think twice of underestimating the both of us.”
Dhandi sighed, smiling slightly. “I still gotta figure out of I’m going to get out of here. I mean, I can’t really expect to suddenly vanish-”
Before she could finish her sentence, in a swirl of sky blue smoke and magic, the individuals within the sanctum vanished as the throne room began to spin and mix in upon itself, until it no longer resembled its former state, now looking like a mixture of different colored paints stirred in a bucket.
~*~
“Come back here!” Rasoul growled at Amin, roughly grabbing and tossing him towards his underlings in the alley. Halim screamed as Amin held on tightly. “A failed kidnapping; oh, it’s the executioner’s block for you.”
Amin whimpered frightened. He was going to die and it was for something he didn’t even do, though the moment he had set his feet back on to the more benign sands of this city he had pondered ransoming the babe. He began bawling louder than Halim, when he heard-
“Amin!” Dhandi ran towards the guards and their detainee, barefoot and out of breath. “Oh, Amin. I’m so sorry I put you through this. You were so brave when that man tried to kill me and Halim!”
Rasoul looked at her suspiciously.
“Well,” Dhandi turned towards him, “I was trying to calm Halim in the alley and then this...horrible man came and grabbed me.”
“This man?” Rasoul pointed to Amin who had turned pale.
“Him? Oh, oh, no!” Dhandi continued to lie in an astonished tone. “Amin was trying to save me, but I gave Halim to him so that he could take him back to the palace while I fought the other man off. I finally got away from him when I threw my sandals at him.” She lifted her foot and pointed to it. “I was trying to find Amin, but the man took me to a part of the city I didn’t know very well, so I got lost.”
Rasoul glanced at Amin who weakly smiled and then at Dhandi who smiled innocently.
“That may be all and good,” Rasoul said gruffly, “but he is still a thief with several counts of theft and one for...turning the Sultan into gold.”
Dhandi was bewildered by this. Since when did Amin learned magic? Was he really smarter than he had let on? Amin stuck a finger in his ear, pulled out a small blob of earwax upon the tip of his finger and smelled it. All thoughts of the thief possessing a much higher intellect fled from her at that moment.
“True,” she continued, “but doesn’t our faith believe that a good deed can outweigh a bad one?”
“Faith maybe,” Rasoul replied roughly as he yanked Halim from Amin’s arms and placed the babe into the girl’s, “but not the law.” The guards slapped upon the thief’s wrists irons.
Dhandi frowned as the guards turned away, dragging Amin. She looked around and, holding Halim close, began to scream.
“Heeeeeeeeellllllllllp!” she shrieked, Halim began to bawl as well. The guards turned around. “That man found me! He’s over there by the barrels!” Her finger shot up and pointed towards the barrels in the alley. “Oh, Merciful Allah! He’s come back for Halim!”
Rasoul and the guards ran over there, dropping Amin who was still in irons. Amin looked around and, with a look of reassurance from the girl, slid the irons off his bony arms. He got up to his feet and began to run off in the opposite direction. The shouts of guards could be heard as Dhandi took a step back and watched nonchalantly as Rasoul and his company ran through the streets, searching for Amin deMoolah. Dhandi looked at Halim who had stopped crying and was lying contented in his sitter’s arms. She stole a glance at her hand, the black veins of henna fading away against her tanned skin.
“Let’s go find your mommy,” she whispered to Halim as she turned and walked towards where the palace dominated the skyline.
~*~
Mozenrath groaned as he slowly rose, rubbing his head gingerly. However, he found that he began to slide down. He soon found the reason why as he grabbed on to the railing and dangled from the black onion-shaped dome of the Citadel, several hundreds of feet up. He shut his eyes, vertigo setting in and felt around for something to stand upon with the tips of his boots. Fortunately for him, a ridge of bricks stuck out from the chipped plaster, just above a window. The sorcerer lowered himself upon the ridge and surveyed his surroundings. Indeed, he was back in his own lands, but questions arose in his bruised head, mainly “when and how did I get back”. However, one thought lingered. He sneered as he recalled the events, how at a raise of her hand the child was able beat him against the pillars.
He remembered his past lessons, the importance of verbal commands in spells, but more importantly, that the words themselves were powerful, that a single word can bind one person to another, even without the aid of blood and enchanted vapors.
...that’s why you will always be considered to me as Amir... He clenched his fists furiously. That stupid girl and the fact that he gave her that name upon her hand aggravated him further. He stared at his hand, scowling at the black mehandi like they were varicose veins. He sighed and waved his gauntlet over his palm, the henna-ed lines lifting up towards the glove like pieces of metal to a magnet. He then held the gauntlet flat at eye level and blew; the powder that the lines have been reduced to caught the wind and flew away.
I won’t let her take advantage of me again, Mozenrath thought to himself as he climbed down to the window. She won’t be able to next time.
Suddenly, something jabbed at his brain.
“Xerxes?”
~*~
Somewhere within a fortress, Xerxes was tensely fighting off the advances of a starving calico.
~*~
Amin deMoolah stumbled clumsily into a dark bar, populated by very surly clientele. Running from the guards for five hours had led him to familiar streets and, unfortunately, familiar faces who, in the five years he was imprisoned, kept grudges towards him. Amin nursed his bruised cheek as he sat down at a low table. Freedom didn’t taste very sweet for this thief. Even in the Chaotic Plains, he had learned to cope with it, but now, even in what he considered his element, he was having trouble re-adjusting.
“Hey, Butterfingers!” the portly barkeep barked from behind his post. Amin cringed and turned to the barkeep.
“My name is NOT Butterfingers!” he hollered, indignantly.
“Whatever,” the barkeep only shrugged. “Somebody left sumthing up here for youse.” Amin got up from his seat and staggered up to the bar. The barkeep plopped a small parcel, loosely wrapped in cheesecloth, in front of the thief. Amin inspected it before slowly unfolding the cheesecloth. His eyes widen with surprise and delight at the wedge of pie, revealed. The warm aroma of spices and fruit fused between the two layers of flaky crust seduced his nostrils. His mouth began to water when he noticed a big bite mark on the side of the wedge.
“Hey!” he complained, looking suspiciously at the barkeep. The barkeep shrugged, scrapping crumbs from his beard.
“What? How could I let a piece of pie lie there, especially with those juicy bits of persimmon in there? You just don’t get stuff like that downtown. Whoever your benefactor is,they has good tastes.”
Amin looked at the wedge again. Even with a bite taken out of it, it still looked good, especially it being the first piece he’d seen in many years. Looking around first, he grabbed the pie and stuffed it all in his mouth. He moaned happily, crumbs scattering into his beard along with a good amount of saliva and pie juices. Swallowing the pie, he searched himself for something to wipe his mouth.
Feeling something stuffed in his shirt, he reached in and pulled out a pink scarf, or rather the remains of a pink scarf. For a few minutes, he stared blankly at the mess of yarn, trying to connect two thoughts together, which was a mighty task for one with a single digit IQ. Suddenly, the hooting and wolf-whistling of surrounding patrons broke his train of thought.
“Nice scarf! Meeting your boyfriend later on, Butterfingers?”
The End
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Chapter 12: To the Victor Goes the Spoils (alternate version)
Chapter 11: To the Victor Goes the Spoils
(Second Version)
Dhandi walked into the throne room, heart high with triumph. She glanced around, the room seeming to sway. She shook her head and the room was once again at a standstill. She continued her investigation of the throne room, ducking her head into the corridor.
It’d figure if he had stairs in this place, Dhandi thought to herself as she walked down the corridor. This place looked huge from the outside. At the end of the corridor, sure enough the stairs were there, but she had not anticipated them to be so...complicated. Above her head, there were numerous sets of stairs and arches that intertwined so intricately, but seemed to be going into different directions at same time. Her head began to hurt, trying to follow one of the paths mentally. However, she found a separate set of stairs, wrapped against the wall and going in one direction, up.
Maybe he had a lot of free time on his hands, Dhandi decided as she climbed the stairs. Would be interesting to try that place out if I get another chance.
The steps were narrow, so most of the time she clung to the wall, side-stepping. The soles of her feet scrapped against the sandstone as she climbed. The corridor that she had left shrunk in the distance when she spotted a doorway, above. Her pace became quicker as the doorway came into sight. The final step was reached and Dhandi stood face to face with the door. It was plainer than the rest of the sanctum, suggesting it had been more of an afterthought. There was no door knob, only the simple rope handles that she knew inhabited the poorer parts of Agrabah. Dhandi pushed the door open and found a small round, modestly furnished room. She walked in, looking about. She ran her fingers across the ebony frame of the divan, when she spotted the terracotta jars. Her curiosity piqued, she ambled towards them. She found that along their bases, powders of different colors had piled up.
Magic powders! An intrigued smile appeared on her face. Sadira and Eden had often talked about them and of certain combinations that resulted in either explosion or enchantment. For Sadira, the former often resulted. However, this didn’t seem to bother her as she lifted one of the lids. If she couldn’t find a way out in her experimenting, she could at least defend herself. After all, she didn’t know how long he would be lying there unconscious or how terrible his wrath will be when he wakes up.
Dhandi glanced at the powder, dark green in color, and took a whiff. It smelled earthy. Little doubt it was henna.
Unless Mozenrath wants a dye job, Dhandi scoffed as she set down the lid, moving on.
She went to the next jar and peered into it. It was very dark whatever was in there, even the light pouring in from outside seemed to be absorbed by the contents. Dhandi set the lid down and stared at the black sand, curiously. She reached her hand in and scooped up sand. She had never felt the sands of the sorcerer’s kingdom. Even when she had spent some time there as a child, Eden and Genie kept her inside the Citadel. Compared to the more benign sands of her home, it was finer, like the ashes from a potter’s kiln.
She dropped the black sand when she saw something moving. Something was tunneling around the sand in the jar, creating narrow mounds on the surface. A dreadful feeling began to churn in Dhandi’s stomach as she felt for the lid. She grabbed the lid, but as she slowly began to set it down, the sand exploded in her face. The sound of shattering pottery was heard in the confusion as was Dhandi’s shriek of pain. She turned to the source of her pain, Mozenrath’s familiar Xerxes latching on to her arm with his razor-sharp jaws and not budging.
“Let go!” Dhandi screamed, trying to shake the eel off. Xerxes, a malicious smirk on his face, clamped on tighter. Beads of sweat forming on her face, the girl suddenly fell upon the floor. The air seemed grow heavy and pressed down on her body. Her hand, in spasms, felt around the floor. She felt the pointed and serrated edge of a terracotta shard. She wrapped her hand around it and flung it at Xerxes. The shard’s teeth slid across the eel’s skin, slicing a wound upon it. The eel shrieked and unlatched himself from her arm, fleeing back to the jar.
Dhandi sunk lower to the ground, grabbing her arm, now bleeding profusely. She sprawled upon the floor, her body becoming very numb and rigid.
Am I gonna die? She thought to herself, frightened. No. No, I’m not. It’s just like when I was ten, when he first tricked me with Xerxes. Her throat became horribly dry. Dear Allah, I should have known better. He doesn’t stop, he never gives up...
She heard footsteps. She couldn’t turn her head to look, but she had a terrible inkling of who now stood above her.
Mozenrath looked at the girl’s body upon the floor, an uncompassionate expression on his bruised face.
“Unlike you,” he seemed to say to Dhandi with that look, “I had a back up plan.” He glanced at the shards of terracotta upon the floor beside her and then at the jar of black sand. Xerxes popped his head out and slithered towards his master.
“Good boy,” the sorcerer cooed as Xerxes draped himself on his master’s shoulders, nursing his own wounds. “Let’s see,” he continued to himself as he knelt down beside Dhandi, “Three year plan ruined thanks to a meddlesome servant, lost the bait to lure the street rat here along with the shard to get me out of here to said servant, was humiliated by an Incarnation...” He sighed. “All in all, it still was a good day.”
Xerxes slid off his shoulder, looking at Mozenrath like his face was melting. The sorcerer chuckled softly as he picked up Dhandi and flung her over his shoulder.
“I still got the consolation prize,” Mozenrath drawled as his legs shook under the additional weight. Heavier than she looks, he thought as he straightened up.
Xerxes cackled as Mozenrath reached his gauntleted hand into the jar of black sand. His fist glowed dark blue for a moment and he opened his hand, pouring the magically-charged sand and forming it into a circle.
She may have pulled a fast one on me, he thought as he finished the circle, using that...name against me, but next time...oh, she won’t be able to.
He turned to Dhandi who was still awake despite being unable to move and smiled maliciously. “When we get home,” he told her in a mockingly sweet tone, “I’m gonna see how really special you are.”
Though she couldn’t talk, Mozenrath knew, by her soft whimpering, that she was screaming with fright on the inside. His grin became broader with triumph as the circle glowed and swirled. Mozenrath, Dhandi, and Xerxes disappeared as the swirling ceased and the room began to twist and contort violently as it spinned on itself and the colors swirled like paint, freshly mixed straight in the pail.
~*~
Jasmine held her cloak close to herself that night as she and Aladdin stood at the border of the Land of the Black Sand. She quickly turned her head around, abruptly.
“What is it, Jasmine?” Aladdin quietly asked his wife.
“I could have sworn I saw something,” Jasmine replied, in hushed urgency. “Any chance that Mozenrath knows we’re here?”
“Genie and Eden are staying low until we call for them,” Aladdin whispered. “The magic detectors couldn’t have been set off.”
“That still just leaves regular watch,” Jasmine pulled her cloak closer. Tonight was especially bitter cold. Suddenly, there came a great whistle in the air.
“Jasmine!” Aladdin grabbed her and ducked down as spears landed about them. The pair tumbled down the dune, spears flying through the air.
It had been three days since the guards dropped before her the would-be kidnapper of Halim, her first borne son. Amin deMoolah was a sniveling wreck when the guards found him. Seeing him being hauled to the dungeon had almost aroused her pity, in spite of past grudges.
Then he had called out Dhandi’s name.
This then aroused her curiosity and concern. Dhandi had been Halim’s sitter that day and, since they had found Halim but not Dhandi, she had become worried. As did Eden who at that moment popped in, scared beyond her wits for her master who had not returned home. Jasmine had decided to interrogate the thief who, to her distress, had become mute when the guards exceeded their bounds and had him hanging upside down in nothing, save his underwear (as to what they wore as underwear in that day and age would be another tale). It would have been two more days until he would utter another name- Mozenrath.
Jasmine and Aladdin now stood in the middle of an army of mamluks, the half dead soldiers armed each which a scimitar.
“You think we déjà-ed this vu already?” Aladdin asked Jasmine. Jasmine smiled playfully.
“There’s always room for more,” Jasmine replied as she scooped up two spears with her feet and launched them in the air. The husband and wife leapt, grabbing the spears. The mamluks lurched towards them, scimitars drawn. Jasmine swung her spear like a bat, knocking the head off of one. Aladdin used his as a pole vault and launched himself in the air, knocking two to the ground. This continued until there was a pile of mamluk parts scattered upon the dunes. The couple, exhausted, dashed off towards the familiar horizon line of the city and, more importantly, of the Citadel.
~*~
Aladdin and Jasmine didn’t know when or how they had entered the throne room. They remembered running towards the Citadel and suddenly disappearing and then reappearing. They had noticed a figure in a full concealing purdah, sitting quietly next to the throne.
“What do you know?” Mozenrath’s voice echoed, saturated with sarcasm, “The street rat and the royal pain.” From where they stood, Aladdin and Jasmine scanned the room for the sorcerer, vigilantly. “Had I know you were dropping by, I would have baked a cake.”
“Mozenrath!” Aladdin shouted, still scanning the room.
“Mozenrath,” Jasmine stepped forward, her royal air exuding from her stance, “As Sultana of Agrabah, I demand that you show yourself!”
“You don’t have to shout,” Mozenrath said condescendingly, now standing beside her. “Let’s use our indoor voices, shall we?” He looked at Jasmine in her disguise with interest before sauntering nonchalantly past the royal couple and to his throne where he sat down, one leg hanging idly over an armrest. “What’s the occasion? Decided to drop by for coffee? Hummus? Battle to the death?”
“We’ve come to negotiate the return of your hostage to us,” Aladdin answered confidently. Jasmine looked on with reassurance. Mozenrath chuckled softly, swinging his leg over.
“It’s so sweet that you learned all those big words just for me,” the sorcerer said, in a tone that one would use talking to a four-year old, “but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.” He held his index fingers side to side and up to his lips. “It’s seems...I’ve grown attached to her.” He then snorted. “Who am I kidding? I’ve been attached to her for years! Only for the past three days, I’ve actually had her and, well, the answer is no.”
Aladdin glared at him furiously as he stepped forward. “Where is she?” he demanded. “We want to talk to Dhandi! You have no right to keep her here!”
The corners of Mozenrath’s mouth formed a smirk as he pointed towards the seated figure on his left. Jasmine gasped as the figure stood up slowly and lowered her hood. Indeed, it was Eden’s mistress, right down to her coarse hair and her scrawny figure. However, she looked so sickly. It easily rivaled Mozenrath’s own pallid countenance, though when she glanced back at the sorcerer, Jasmine had noticed that his skin seemed darker as if he took the time to let the sun brown him. Then, there was that emptiness in the girl’s eyes, like the fire of her soul had been snuffed out.
“How a few days can make a difference in a girl’s life,” Mozenrath smiled cruelly as he got up. “One day, she’s playing with dolls and the next, she, for lack of a better word,-” he wrapped his arm around Dhandi’s shoulders, the girl accepting him unresisting. “-becomes one.”
Aladdin and Jasmine looked on with horror as the sorcerer leaned over and, sliding his tongue between Dhandi’s lips, kissed her, but worse of all, Dhandi kissed back.
The End
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