“What is all this noise about?”

Both djinns started backward. The new arrivals were all female, and they all looked extremely displeased; but when you had said that, you seemed to have said the only two things they had in common. They stood in a row, thirty or so of them, glaring accusingly at the two djinns, and they were tall, short, stout, skinny, young and old, and of every color the human race produces. Abdullah’s eyes scudded along the row in amazement. These must be the kidnapped princesses. That was the third thing they had in common. They ranged from a tiny, frail, yellow princess nearest to him, to an elderly, bent princess in the mid-distance. And they were wearing every possible kind of clothing, from a ball dress to tweeds.

The one who had called out was a solidly built middle-sized princess standing slightly in front of the rest. She was wearing riding clothes. Her face, besides being tanned and a little lined from outdoor activity, was downright and sensible. She looked at the two djinns with utter contempt. “Of all the ridiculous things!” she said. “Two great powerful creatures like you, and you can’t even stop a child crying!” And she stepped up to Valeria and gave her a sharp slap on her thrashing behind. “Shut up!”

It worked. Valeria had never been slapped in her life before. She rolled over and sat up as if she had been shot. She stared at the downright princess out of astonished, swollen eyes. “You hit me!”

“And I shall hit you again if you ask for it,” said the downright princess.

“I shall scream,” said Valeria. Her mouth went square again. She drew a deep breath.

“No, you won’t,” said the downright princess. She picked Valeria up and bundled her briskly into the arms of the two princesses behind her. They, and several more, closed around Valeria in a huddle, making soothing noises. From the midst of the huddle Valeria began screaming again, but in a way that was not quite convinced. The downright princess put her hands on her hips and turned contemptuously to the djinns.

“See?” she said. “All you need is a bit of firmness and some kindness, but neither of you can be expected to understand that!”

Dalzel stepped toward her. Now that he was not so anguished, Abdullah saw with surprise that Dalzel was beautiful. Apart from his fungoid ears and taloned feet, he could have been a tall, angelic man. Golden curls grew on his head, and his wings, though small and stunted-looking, were golden, too. His very red mouth spread into a sweet smile. Altogether he had an unearthly beauty that matched the strange cloud kingdom where he lived. “Pray take the child away,” he said, “and comfort her, O Princess Beatrice, most excellent of my wives.”

Downright Princess Beatrice was gesturing to the other princesses to take Valeria away anyway, but she turned back sharply at this. “I’ve told you, my lad,” she said, “that none of us is any wife of yours. You can call us that until you’re blue in the face, but it won’t make the slightest difference. We are not your wives, and we never will be!”

“Exactly!” said most of the other princesses, in a firm but ragged chorus. All of them, except for one, turned and swept away, taking the sobbing Princess Valeria with them.

Sophie’s face was lit with a delighted smile. She whispered, “It looks as if the princesses are holding their own!”

Abdullah could not attend to her. The remaining princess was Flower-in-the-Night. She was, as always, twice as beautiful as he remembered her, looking very sweet and grave, with her great dark eyes fixed seriously on Dalzel. She bowed politely. Abdullah’s senses sang at the sight of her. The cloudy pillars around him seemed to sway in and out of existence. His heart pounded for joy. She was safe! She was here! She was speaking to Dalzel.

“Forgive me, great djinn, if I remain to ask you a question,” she said, and her voice, even more than Abdullah remembered it, was melodious and merry as a cool fountain.

To Abdullah’s outrage, Dalzel reacted with what seemed to be horror. “Oh, not you again!” he trumpeted, at which Hasruel, standing like a dark column in the background, folded his arms and grinned maliciously.

“Yes, it is I, stern stealer of the daughters of sultans,” Flower-in-the-Night said with her head bowed politely. “I am here merely to ask what thing it was which started the child crying.”

“How should I know?” Dalzel demanded. “You’re always asking me questions I can’t answer! Why are you asking this one?”

“Because,” Flower-in-the-Night answered, “O robber of the offspring of rulers, the easiest way to calm the child is to deal with the cause of her temper. This I know from my own childhood, for I was much given to tantrums myself.”

Surely not! Abdullah thought. She is lying for a purpose. No nature as sweet as hers could ever have screamed for anything! Yet, as he was outraged to see, Dalzel had no difficulty believing this.

“I’ll bet you were!” Dalzel said.

“So what was the cause, bereaver of the brave?” Flower-in-the-Night persisted. “Was it that she wishes to be back in her own palace or to have her own particular doll, or was she simply frightened by your face or—”

“I’m not sending her back if that’s what you’re aiming for,” Dalzel interrupted. “She’s one of my wives now.”

“Then I adjure you to find out what set her off screaming, raptor of the righteous,” Flower-in-the-Night said politely, “for without that knowledge, even thirty princesses may not silence her.” Indeed, Princess Valeria’s voice was rising again in the distance—“wah-wah-WAH!”—as she spoke. “I speak from experience,” Flower-in-the-Night observed. “I once screamed night and day, for a whole week, until my voice was gone, because I had grown out of my favorite shoes.”

Abdullah could see Flower-in-the-Night was telling the exact truth. He tried to believe it, but try as he might, he just could not imagine his lovely Flower-in-the-Night lying on the floor, kicking and screaming.

Dalzel again had no difficulty at all. He shuddered and turned angrily to Hasruel. “Think, can’t you? You brought her in. You must have noticed what set her off.”

Hasruel’s great brown visage crumpled helplessly. “Brother mine, I brought her in through the kitchen, for she was silent and white with fear, and I thought maybe a sweetmeat would make her happy. But she threw the sweetmeats at the cook’s dog and remained silent. Her cries only began, as you know, after I placed her among the other princesses, and her screams only when you had her brought—”

Flower-in-the-Night raised a finger. “Ah!” she said.

Both djinns turned to her.

“I have it,” she said. “It must be the cook’s dog. It is often an animal with children. She is used to being given all she wants, and she wants the dog. Instruct your cook, king of kidnappers, to bring his animal to our quarters, and the noise will cease, this I promise you.”

“Very well,” said Dalzel. “Do it!” he trumpeted at Hasruel.

Flower-in-the-Night bowed. “I thank you,” she said, and turned and walked gracefully away.

Sophie shook Abdullah’s arm. “Let’s follow her.”

Abdullah did not move or reply. He stared after Flower-in-the-Night, hardly able to believe he was really seeing her and equally unable to believe that Dalzel did not fall at her feet and adore her. He had to admit that this was a relief, but all the same—

“She’s yours, is she?” Sophie said after one look at his face. Abdullah nodded raptly. “Then you’ve got good taste,” said Sophie. “Now come on before they notice us!”

They edged behind the pillars in the direction Flower-in-the-Night had gone, keeping a wary eye on the huge hall as they went. In the far distance Dalzel was moodily settling into an enormous throne at the top of a flight of steps. When Hasruel returned from wherever the kitchens were, Dalzel motioned him to kneel by the throne. Neither looked their way. Sophie and Abdullah tiptoed to an archway where a curtain was still swaying after Flower-in-the-Night had lifted it to go through. They pushed the curtain aside and followed.