Inside Straight

The Djinn gave a grunt of satisfaction. The full lips were lowered toward her mouth. She reached through one of the cuts in her burqa and closed her hand around the butt of her small pistol. His mouth was on hers. The reek of his breath caught in her throat. Pig. She pulled free the gun, pressed the barrel against his elbow, and pulled the trigger. The report echoing off the walls was almost drowned out by the Djinn’s bellow of agony. The most painful injury to the human body had once again worked its magic. The injured arm fell limp to the ace’s side. Lilith drove the heel of her boot down onto his instep, then spun away. The Djinn swung his good arm, and clipped her gun hand. The pistol went flying and she fell to the floor. Her legs were flaccid. His eyes were wild, curses emerged in a staccato roar, and the arm dripped blood as he charged down on her. With the last of her strength Lilith gathered her power, felt the snap, and teleported just as she heard the door crash open and the confused bellows from the guards.

She ended up in one of the hallways she had traversed only a few moments before. She would have only seconds before the alarm would be raised through the entire palace. Quickly she pulled out the map. It was time for a bit of misdirection. They would be looking for a woman. So, let’s give them women.

Snap. She was in the laundry where women labored in the heat. Lilith grabbed two of them, swept the folds of her burqaaround all three of them, and teleported away. The women’s screams set her ears to aching as they appeared in a first floor hallway. The marble walls amplified the sound. There were male shouts and the thunder of booted feet running toward them. As Lilith teleported away she heard the chatter of a Kalashnikov, and a woman’s piercing scream. She couldn’t believe her luck. They had actually opened fire. Panic had clearly gripped the palace. It could only help her.

Lilith grabbed two more serving women and two of the dancers who were eating in the kitchen. She used them to season the stew of growing confusion. A stitch sent white hot pain up Lilith’s side, and her shoulders and back were aching. It hadn’t been easy controlling the hysterical, struggling women. She rested against a wall in an alcove and waited for her breathing to slow. She heard a high and querulous tenor voice call out. Abdul the Idiot has taken command. Perfect.

“Lock down all the gates. No. Wait. Not until the military arrives. Turn on all the lights in the gardens.”

“That will kill our troops’ night vision, my prince,” another voice warned.

“Oh, yes. Well, issue night goggles.”

“They have night goggles,” came another voice.

“Oh, yes, right.”

“Shouldn’t we stay with your father?” another asked.

Which implies the Caliph has changed location, Lilith thought.

“No. We must find the crusader assassin.”

Lilith teleported back to Prince Siraj’s room.

He gave a shout of alarm then relaxed when he saw her. “What’s happening? Have you done it? I heard gunshots.”

“Pandemonium. No. Yes,” Lilith said. “How much does the Caliph love Nashwa?”

“A lot.”

“Is he a coward?”

“No.”

“Thank you.” Lilith teleported away, certain now where she would find him.

The Caliph whirled as the pop of displaced air announced her arrival.

In the dimly lit bedroom the green glow that emanated from his body was apparent. His black hair was flecked with gray and his beard had two long streaks of silver that ran from the corners of his mouth. He was dressed in white robes and she could see the line of puckered brown across his throat where a sister’s knife had once failed to cut deep enough. Then he had only been the Nur al-Allah, and the restoration of the caliphate had only been a dream.

The Nur’s eyes telegraphed the lifting of his pistol. Lilith seized a pot of face powder off Nashwa’s dressing table and flung the contents into his face. He jerked his head to the side, and spoiled his aim. But it had been a near thing. Lilith felt the heat from the muzzle flash across her face, and the report set her ears to ringing. There were female screams from beyond the door.

She ran for the bed. As she passed the door she slammed it closed and threw the bolt. It wouldn’t hold for long, but she only needed minutes. Jumping, she landed on the mattress and used its spring to increase her speed and the height of the jump. She lashed out with her foot as she arced over the Nur’s head, and caught him hard on the jaw. With her trailing foot she kicked his hand and wrist, and felt bones snap.

The second kick had the desired result—he dropped the gun—but it wrecked her trajectory and she fell harder than she’d hoped, onto her hip. Clenching her teeth against the pain, Lilith rolled to her feet and drew a knife from the sheath strapped to her leg. The Nur shook his head, trying to throw off the effects of her first kick.