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action.
The only unpretty thing in the whole scene was a brownish mongrel searching
among the rocks and pebbles some little ways up the beach. It was a small,
starved-looking dog, clearly intended to be coated with short tan hair, but
the hair was either very dirty or else it had acquired a naturally dingy
appearance somewhere in the animal s lifetime; so that the only other living
thing on the beach beside Jim and Hob was definitely out of key with all else
visible. On the other hand, it was not bothering Jim and Jim had no real
interest in it.
Jim forgot the dog and concentrated on the waves once more. He had called out
loud more than enough times for Rrrnlf. Now he was trying visualization-but
with no magic command to appear-concentrating on Rrrnlf wherever the sea devil
should be in the undersea, with Jim s calls necessarily reverberating over and
over again in the large Natural s ears.
So far this had shown no signs of working, either.
Oh great and puissant, compassionate magician, said a high-pitched, but
oddly gruff, voice at his elbow. Of your mightiness and strength, aid me in
my terrible plight; and your reward shall be greater than any could ever
imagine.
Jim came out of his concentration to discover at his elbow the dog which, a
moment before, had been nosing about, farther up the beach.
That it was an animal speaking to him did not startle him-although it was the
first talking dog Jim had so far encountered on this magical, medieval world.
All sorts of creatures spoke, here, of course-while others didn t; and there
seemed no rhyme or reason to which did and which didn t
Also, while no dog had ever addressed him until now, one of his best friends
was Aargh, an English wolf, who not only spoke but issued very definite and
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uncompromising statements. So, also, had a Northumbrian wolf whom Jim had met
up near the Scottish border. Until now, Jim had simply assumed that wolves
spoke in this fourteenth-century environment and dogs didn t. Apparently the
rule was not universal. But he had heard so many unlikely speakers by this
time that what concerned him at the moment was the fact that his concentration
had been interrupted.
What is it? he asked the dog sharply.
I am in desperate need and I cast myself on your mercy, O mighty one! said
the dog, fawning upon him.
Yes, yes, said Jim, but what do you want?
The dog pressed close against his right leg and lowered his voice to a
murmur. Thoughts of fleas, lice and possible skin diseases flitted momentarily
through Jim s mind, but his natural instinct not to be unfriendly to dogs-even
ratty-looking specimens like this-which in general he liked and usually got on
well with, kept him from pulling his leg away.
I am in desperate need of your protection, O great and invincible master,
the dog went on, barely above a whisper. I am in flight from a powerful and
wicked one, who most cruelly ill-used me; and when I saw you here, casting
spells upon the ocean, I knew you at once. You are as much greater and
stronger than him as he is than me; and so I have ventured to ask you for
protection, knowing that by your Art you already knew that I was a Djinni-as
is the one who so mistreated and would now pursue me-so that I need not first
show you myself in my own real form.
For the first time in some hours, Jim dropped his concern with Rrrnlf and the
undersea spaces. There had been one glaringly false note in what the dog had
said so far, in speaking to him.
It was not surprising the dog/Djinni might recognize him as a magician.
Unlikely sorts of non-humans had done that before. Others had not, of course,
but there was always the chance that some of them could feel, smell or somehow
tell the difference that his magic gave him. But the other had clearly been
guessing when he threw in that bit just now about casting spells on the
sea-since Jim had been doing nothing of the kind.
Jim was instantly wary. Experience in this particular world had taught him it
was usually wisest not to disabuse a stranger s favorable misapprehension
about him too quickly. By letting the mistake slide by, he might be able to
find out more of what was actually going on around him-and usually he badly
needed to know what was going on around him-for his own safety s sake, to say
nothing of that of little Hob.
He had been aware that he was now in the territory of those middle-eastern
Naturals called collectively Djinn or Jann; and, individually, Djinni or
Jinni. If this dog actually was a Djinni, then probably the most prudent thing
to do was to first find out what kind of magiclike powers he had, while
keeping him as much in the dark as possible about the scope of Jim s own
abilities.
You say you re a Djinni, Jim said. But before I give you any kind of
protection, I d have to know if I could trust you. I need to know more about
you. To begin with, are you really the sort of Djinni you say you are?
O my master, I am. I am! cried the dog in a high, thin voice, then quickly
looked around behind him, as if he expected somebody to be there, listening.
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We ll see, said Jim. You re right, of course, in taking for granted I knew
you were a Djinni without having to see you in your true shape. But what if
you re really a Djinni who s been stripped of his powers by some holy person
because of evil things you did, and condemned to live permanently as the dog
you pretend to be? Prove to me first you can change back to your true shape.
Does he have to? whispered Hob fearfully in Jim s ear.
Hush! said Jim, over his shoulder. He looked at the dog. Well?
The dog changed his appearance.
Tell me when to open my eyes, said Hob in Jim s ear.
That s fine. You can change back. That s just fine, said Jim hastily. It s
all right now, Hob. You can look.
What he had seen, and Hob had almost caught a glimpse of, was a huge male
figure with gray skin and large belly, scantily dressed in a sort of vest plus
loose billowy, purple trousers. It had possessed a hideous face, with a third
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