"Here's my last and best piece of advice," Aahz said. "Leave. Now. We're about to."

"But, I can't!" Samwise wailed. "I thought you believed in my project!"

"I did. But I also believe in being free to practice my own beliefs. I can't do that if I'm locked in a cell, particularly not with you." He bared his teeth and leaned toward the Imp. "You don't want me reminding you day after day whose fault it is that we're in this situation, do you?"

"I... I'll let you know if I see him coming," Samwise said, retreating toward the door.

"Tell him now," Gurn said, peering up at us. We all jumped.

"Gurn's here," I said unnecessarily.

The cursedly-handsome minister wasn't alone. Two or three dozen Ghord guards stood behind us, their spears drawn.

"Kid!" Aahz shouted.

That was my cue. I was holding a full load of power from the blue force line. I enveloped Aahz and the protesting Samwise in the spell and transferred us out toward one of Aahz's designated safe houses.

Bamf!

The architect's office vanished around us. Bamf!

We were back where we started. I looked at my hands as if trying to figure out if I'd thrown one spell too many, and realized I was looking up toward the ceiling.

I was lying on the floor with two or three spears at my throat and more pointed at other parts of my anatomy. I held up my hands in surrender. Aahz and Samwise were similarly occupied with their own branches of the queen's guard.

"You fools," Gurn said, bending down to leer at us. "You forget that I, too, am a magician. Bind them! We will take them to the palace!"

The Ghords must have been trained by experts in Necropolis, because they wound us all expertly in yards of linen bandages until we were firmly trussed up. I reached into my inner reserves for magik to cut the bands as I had in Necropolis, but they were empty. Gurn must have drained the magik from me when he dragged us back. I reached out to the force lines I could see in my mind's eye, but it was as if they were behind glass. I couldn't touch any of them.

"Aahz, he's blocking me." "I know, kid. Don't worry."

The guards rolled us onto flying carpets and steered us out into the main office. The clerks followed, wringing their hands.

"Let us go," I said. "We'll figure out something else. Maybe you can even stay as you are now ..."

"No!" Gurn shouted. "Don't even think about that! Take them to the chariot," he directed his force. "We will throw them into the depths of the dungeons. Her majesty is not used to being trifled with!"

"Who said I offered her trifles?" Aahz asked, as they carried us toward the soaring chariot. There, the Sphinxes stood pawing the ground. "Chocolate melts in this heat."

"Not truffles, trifles!" Gurn shrieked. "Say no more, or suffer the consequences!"

"Are you going to say this is going to turn ugly?" Aahz leered.

"Aahz!"

"I refuse to kowtow to this miserable gudgeon."

"That's Gurn," the small minister insisted furiously.

Aahz was unimpressed. "Whatever. If you're going to shut us up, do it. I don't care. You can't hold us. We're powerful magicians."

The small minister danced in fury. "One of you is a powerful magician! One of you has a big mouth! You will all suffer the vengeance of Gurn!"

"Do you guys get your speeches out of a script?" Aahz asked. "I mean, every two-bit despot and tyrannical prime minister always uses the same syntax. I could almost recite it along with you . . . Yeow!"

Gurn shot a lightning bolt from his fingertip that burned the end of Aahz's nose, but it didn't wipe the grin off his face. The guards dumped us on the golden steps at the foot of the chariot. The sharp edges bruised my ribs. I tried to use magik to ease my position, but Gurn's spell kept me from reaching any power. The small minister mounted the steps. He pointed downward.

"Ghords, to your places!"

"Yeah, he wouldn't want to accidentally overlook you," Aahz added. "He is short-sighted."

"Why are you provoking him?" Samwise wailed, lying limply in his bandages.

Aahz looked smug. "Because it's fun, and because it can't last. Look."

I tilted my head backwards in the direction of Diksen's pavilion. The bubble was no longer round or remotely clear. It had turned completely black and was twisting and deforming into weird, ugly shapes. Fumes seemed to rise from its surface. Black clouds stained the sky overhead, and lightning crackled down, striking the roiling surface. And something came shooting toward us from its direction.

As it got closer, I could see that it was one Ghord standing on a carpet.

Diksen.

The carpet skidded to a halt at the foot of the chariot. Diksen staggered off and strode directly toward us.

"Get up!" he burbled, gesticulating in the direction of his pavilion. Rain had started pouring down on the shimmering white pyramid. "... Fix . . . terrible mess!"

"Go away, Diksen," Gurn said, dangerously. "They are prisoners of the Pharaoh Suzal, may she live forever surrounded by beauty, music, and perfume. May every step she takes be on silk and down. May her glorious features be praised ..."

"Let them up!" Diksen interrupted him.

Gurn smiled. It was an ugly expression. "Never. They are my prisoners."

"Let ... go! Undo . . . disgusting . . . misery!"

The small minister was unmoved. "Let the harm they've done resound upon you a thousandfold! I have every reason to dislike you. You insulted her most sacred majesty, she whose parents were touched by divine inspiration when they begot her, she who ..."

Diksen wrung his hands. "My Dorsals! Skin disease . . . Ick!"

"Sorry to hear that," I said sympathetically. "They are fierce fighters. You ought to be proud of them."

"Algae! Books . . . rotting! My beautiful globe!" Diksen glared down on me, and in the only entire sentence I had ever heard him utter so far, demanded, "Take off the curse!"

I tried to arrange myself into a dignified position, wrapped as I was from neck to heels, but only succeeded in bumping down one more step.

"It's your curse," I said haughtily. "I am a powerful magician in my own right. The curse has rebounded on you, with a few little twists of my own."

"My curse? How . . . ?"

"You'll never know," Aahz said, grinning.

"What is it you want?" Diksen asked. In his fury, he was able to produce entire sentences.

"Samwise has offered his apology," I said. "Accept it. Take off the curse, or we all continue to suffer. Now that will include you. You can see what collateral damage you caused."

"Never!" Diksen's jowls flapped angrily.

"Oh, fine," I said. "Then I hope you like living in a hurricane."

Diksen looked back at the twisting, bounding wreck that had been his beautiful office building. In a plaintive little voice, he said, "Mumsy."

"What kind of a son are you if you let your mother sit in the dark like that?" Aahz asked.

"Very well!" Diksen declared. "I accept! But none of you ever dare come near me again!"

"We can handle that," I said evenly. "How about it? You take off your spell, and I'll take off mine."

Diksen reached down into the powerful black force line deep under the desert. He spread out his hands. I could feel a blanket of magik settle down over all of us. It sank through my body and seeped into the sands. As it dissipated, I felt cleaner and clearer of mind than I had in weeks. Samwise, tied like a roast a few steps up from me, let out a hefty sigh.

"Now you," Diksen said.

Gurn folded his arms. I reached out for magik and found the way clear. I cut myself out of the bandages and stood tall.

"Thanks," I said. "It's over."

"But the spell you added to mine . . . ? Undo it!"

"I didn't have to do anything to you," I said. "You did it all to yourself. I just made sure you felt what you did to other people. I didn't add any magik at all."