"And yet…" I said with a savage grin.
The swirling vortex grew more violent and the Djinn drew closer. Wild winds tugged at my coat and looted cloak. "In your arrogance, you are mistaking my patience for generosity, terran."
I didn't back down, instead raising my chin in defiance. I could feel the Arcstorm inside of me and knew my eyes were flashing with the lightning I kept bottled up. "And you mistake arrogance for competence, Djinn."
Ishtar groaned beside me. "If you had told me you were going to start another fight with this god, I would not have sat so close, terrible student."
The winds of the Djinn seemed to calm a little at her words. "At least your pahht knows how to properly pander to its betters." There is a truth hidden in that statement, one I have spent many years ruminating over. In my many dealings with those creatures that we mistakenly call gods, I have discovered that the Rand truly desire our worship. They changed us. In many ways, they really did create the terrans, the pahht, and the tahren. They took what we once were, and warped us to be more to their design, and they did so because they wanted to be gods. And they wanted us to elevate them to that status through belief. The Djinn, on the other hand, do not care what we believe, they just want us to bow and scrape and flatter. Unfortunately, I've never been very good at any of those things, so I chose to stand there defiant instead.
"What is it you want, terran?"
"We made a deal, Djinn," I spat the words into the centre of the vortex. "Ishtar's freedom for yours."
A hissing laughter whistled around the arena, stirring up sand and whipping it in every direction. "Be careful of your choice of words. You would tie yourself into an impossible task."
The Djinn are not to be trusted, but take that warning to heart, Eskara. Make no further deals with this creature. Get what we are owed and leave it to rot here on this island.
"What happened to wanting to kill it?" I asked.
The churning winds drew back a little, the Djinn pulling back into itself slightly. "Who is it you talk to, terran?"
It was your grief, not mine, that led to your rage. I just directed it where it belonged. Now we both know this creature is beyond us. For now. It offered you power. Take it. Learn from it. Then, let it fade away to obscurity up here on its floating prison. Become the deity it wishes to be.
"I agreed to free Do'shan," I said, trying to ignore Ssserakis. The horror could get quite passionate when it talked about rule and the worship of others. It longed to be back in its world, where it was one of the rulers. "To let you travel the skies once more."
"You did. And you are running out of time."
"That is a hefty price you paid," Ishtar said. "Just to free little me."
I turned to her and shrugged. "I'd pay it again. In an instant."
Ishtar chuckled. "Such a terrible student, but a better friend. Thank you, Eskara." Ishtar rarely used my name, only when the weight of the situation called for it.
"I gave you three days, terran," the Djinn continued.
I let out a snort and smiled. "I don't need them. Tell me about the chains. What are they made from? Why do you need me to set you free?"
Tamura chuckled. "The chains are Iron, not made from, but of."
"But the Djinn are the masters of earthen magic, no?" I asked. "Surely you can break the chains yourself."
A chill breeze gusted through the amphitheatre. "The crazy Aspect confuses the matter. I suspect, deliberately. The chains are alive. Grown from one of Mezula's children, one she named Iron. He rests at the heart of my city like a parasite. His limbs worm their way through the rock, an infestation of unbreakable metal, locking my prison in place."
"He is the chains?"
The Djinn paused a moment before answering. "The chains are Iron. Surrounding him, enveloping him. A great web buried inside the rock, a fat spider cocooned at the centre."
It should not have surprised me as much as it did. A similar monster lives in the centre of Ro'shan, a giant whose bones grow upwards to form the very city. One of Mezula's many children. I have never learned the name of the creature that lives in her mountain, providing shelter to all Ro'shan's citizens. As far as I am aware, there is no way down to meet the living heart of the city. It slumbers there, responding to the will and whim of the mother. Iron was not so different in scope, though with a far-removed purpose. An Aspect created for the sole reason of keeping Do'shan anchored to the earth. A creature of metal limbs that fed on the nutrients of the earth, sucking up what it needed through the ground so far below. I wonder if it was aware of us, of anything that happened around it. How much intelligence had Mezula granted her child of iron?
"Why can't you destroy him?" I asked. "You're a Djinn, aren't you? Powerful beyond measure, worshipped as a god. Has Mezula truly bested you so easily?"
I perhaps should not have taunted Aerolis so. There was a saying back in Keshin, one I remember for some reason despite the passage of years. Don't poke the fire. It cares not whether you burn. The wind picked up once more, the calm breeze turning to a howling gale. Sand was sucked into the air and whirling tornadoes formed around us. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my coat and pulled it close around me, but my cloak whipped about me in a mad flurry of activity.
"Eska?" Hardt's voice raised to a shout over the wind. I glanced over to see him crouching low, braced against the fury of Aerolis' gale. Imiko clung to Hardt's arm, white knuckles standing out even in the frigid winds.
What are you doing?
"So much bluster!" I had to scream into the wind just to be heard. "Give up the show, Aerolis. It doesn't fucking impress me." You might wonder how I could be so calm and confident in the face of such power. A hurricane was blowing through the amphitheatre, trying to tear us all from the ground. Localised tornadoes tore at the sand and the earth beneath. The sound was deafening. The violence of the storm, mind numbing. Yet we were all of us, unharmed.
I have a taste for gambling, a vice earned from countless hours at the gaming tables down in the Pit. The thrill of a wagered bet, the anticipation of victory or defeat, the battle against an opponent who desires to take all you have. But I learned long ago that for most games of chance, the outcome relies not upon the cards or chips or dice, but upon the players. A lesson from Josef, whispered down in the dark just moments before the oblivion of sleep, but a lesson I had taken to heart. Bet against the player, not against the game. Silva taught me a similar lesson, that negotiation is much like gambling. Sometimes it is worth giving something away, losing a round, just to see how the other person will act. Occasionally it is worth feigning value for an item that means nothing to you. Knowing when your opponent is bluffing, is nine tenths of any victory.
The storm grew yet more violent. Ishtar slumped sideways off her little pillar and clung to it. Tamura crouched down, curling into a ball and clutching at the ground. Even Horralain and Hardt, each as big as a horse, had trouble bracing against the fury that whipped through the arena. Ssserakis snaked my shadow into the earth beneath me, anchoring me against the buffeting, and I leaned into the winds. One last gasp of defiance. One last bet into the bluff.
"Enough, Djinn!" I screamed into the winds and the Arcstorm roared to life around me, lightning sparking off my skin and lighting up my eyes. It is a strange thing, the storm I carry inside; it reacts to strong emotion. Pleasure and pain, fear and exhilaration. It is sometimes awkward in that regard; I have been known to accidentally shock lovers in the throes of passion. But most often it reacts to my anger. "You're not going to harm us, so give up this pathetic fucking act and tell me what I need to know!"