boomed, his voice rich and loud. Brydie had to stop herself covering her ears.
‘I mean … am I dead? Shrunk down to the size of a flea? Is my spirit trapped in here with you, while my body lies rotting on the floor out there? Or am I stuck in here, whole and entire, and when you get sick of asking me the same questions and gettingthe same answers, over and over, you’ll finally set me free and I’ll be back to normal?’
The djinni was silent for a time, before remarking with a frown in his voice, ‘In Persia, a human captive would never dare question one of the Djinn in such an impertinent fashion.’
‘Oh?’ she said, trying to find a place to look so she knew she was addressing the djinni and not the wall. ‘How do you know that? You make a habit of trapping innocent women with your family jewels, do you?’
There was a moment of heavy silence before Jamaspa said, ‘No human captive would dare make fun of the Djinn , either.’
‘Well, they ought to come see me then,’ Brydie retorted cheerfully, rather pleased she’d been able to rattle the djinni a little. ‘I could give them a few pointers.’
‘Tell me how Darragh of the Undivided leaves this chamber undetected,’ the djinni asked, apparently deciding not to engage in any further idle chatter with his prisoner.
‘I don’t know,’ Brydie sighed. She leaned against the cool, smooth interior of the gem and sank slowly to the floor. She might as well get comfortable. Experience had taught her these questions could go on for quite a while.
Brydie woke a few hours later. Or it might have been minutes. Perhaps days. Jamaspa’s questions had gone on for hours, it seemed, leaving her wrung out and Jamaspa no closer to the truth he sought. She sat up as a shadow passed over the jewel, wondering if the djinni was back, but there was no sign of him. This shadow was outside the gem.
Someone was moving about in Darragh’s chamber.
Brydie scrambled to her feet and began to bang on the walls of her tiny jewelled prison, even though she knew it was useless. She could hear what was happening outside the jewel, but people outside couldn’t hear her. She was certain it was impossible tosee that there was someone trapped inside the brooch. When she’d owned the brooch, she had studied its faceted surface, admiring the colour and the precision of its cut. She hadn’t seen anybody moving about inside it, and if she had, she would have assumed it a trick of the light.
Who could even imagine there might be somebody trapped in here?
And even if they did discover her there, how were they supposed to get her out?
If Brydie could catch the attention of someone … if a Druid came into the room looking for something … if he or she sensed the spell … maybe they could help?
Perhaps it was Darragh, come home at last. If the Undivided couldn’t undo a spell wrought by an evil djinni , who else could?
But that sparked off another set of unsettling questions. Would Darragh notice she was gone? And if he did, would he care? Wouldn’t he simply assume she’d left Sí an Bhrú and gone back to Temair without saying goodbye? Why would he think something evil might have befallen her? They’d known each other for only a few days.
Surely he would sense the magic worked in his own bedchamber, she thought, more from wishful thinking than any real knowledge of the subject. And if he did sense it, wouldn’t he want to know the source? Was he powerful enough to focus on the enchanted jewel lying amid Brydie’s discarded clothes?
The shadow moved again and darkness enveloped her as a hand scooped the brooch off the cloak. Whoever had picked up the brooch peered at it closely for a moment, turning it this way and that — knocking Brydie off her feet in the process — to study it.
‘Hey!’ she shouted uselessly. ‘In here! Look closely, you fool! Can’t you see me?’
Her shouts meant nothing, of course, but she continued to do whatever she could to attract
‘I mean … am I dead? Shrunk down to the size of a flea? Is my spirit trapped in here with you, while my body lies rotting on the floor out there? Or am I stuck in here, whole and entire, and when you get sick of asking me the same questions and gettingthe same answers, over and over, you’ll finally set me free and I’ll be back to normal?’
The djinni was silent for a time, before remarking with a frown in his voice, ‘In Persia, a human captive would never dare question one of the Djinn in such an impertinent fashion.’
‘Oh?’ she said, trying to find a place to look so she knew she was addressing the djinni and not the wall. ‘How do you know that? You make a habit of trapping innocent women with your family jewels, do you?’
There was a moment of heavy silence before Jamaspa said, ‘No human captive would dare make fun of the Djinn , either.’
‘Well, they ought to come see me then,’ Brydie retorted cheerfully, rather pleased she’d been able to rattle the djinni a little. ‘I could give them a few pointers.’
‘Tell me how Darragh of the Undivided leaves this chamber undetected,’ the djinni asked, apparently deciding not to engage in any further idle chatter with his prisoner.
‘I don’t know,’ Brydie sighed. She leaned against the cool, smooth interior of the gem and sank slowly to the floor. She might as well get comfortable. Experience had taught her these questions could go on for quite a while.
Brydie woke a few hours later. Or it might have been minutes. Perhaps days. Jamaspa’s questions had gone on for hours, it seemed, leaving her wrung out and Jamaspa no closer to the truth he sought. She sat up as a shadow passed over the jewel, wondering if the djinni was back, but there was no sign of him. This shadow was outside the gem.
Someone was moving about in Darragh’s chamber.
Brydie scrambled to her feet and began to bang on the walls of her tiny jewelled prison, even though she knew it was useless. She could hear what was happening outside the jewel, but people outside couldn’t hear her. She was certain it was impossible tosee that there was someone trapped inside the brooch. When she’d owned the brooch, she had studied its faceted surface, admiring the colour and the precision of its cut. She hadn’t seen anybody moving about inside it, and if she had, she would have assumed it a trick of the light.
Who could even imagine there might be somebody trapped in here?
And even if they did discover her there, how were they supposed to get her out?
If Brydie could catch the attention of someone … if a Druid came into the room looking for something … if he or she sensed the spell … maybe they could help?
Perhaps it was Darragh, come home at last. If the Undivided couldn’t undo a spell wrought by an evil djinni , who else could?
But that sparked off another set of unsettling questions. Would Darragh notice she was gone? And if he did, would he care? Wouldn’t he simply assume she’d left Sí an Bhrú and gone back to Temair without saying goodbye? Why would he think something evil might have befallen her? They’d known each other for only a few days.
Surely he would sense the magic worked in his own bedchamber, she thought, more from wishful thinking than any real knowledge of the subject. And if he did sense it, wouldn’t he want to know the source? Was he powerful enough to focus on the enchanted jewel lying amid Brydie’s discarded clothes?
The shadow moved again and darkness enveloped her as a hand scooped the brooch off the cloak. Whoever had picked up the brooch peered at it closely for a moment, turning it this way and that — knocking Brydie off her feet in the process — to study it.
‘Hey!’ she shouted uselessly. ‘In here! Look closely, you fool! Can’t you see me?’
Her shouts meant nothing, of course, but she continued to do whatever she could to attract
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