Liar's Island: A Novel Read Free

run for his life under the unmoving onslaught of its gaze.
    â€œHow do you know our names?” Hrym said.
    Excellent question, Rodrick thought. If he hadn’t been halfway to soiling himself with fear he might have asked it himself.
    â€œI was sent to deliver a message,” the djinni said. “The thakur of Jalmeray requests the pleasure of your company at his palace in Niswan.”
    â€œI understood some of those words,” Rodrick said. “Notably ‘pleasure’ and ‘palace.’”
    â€œJalmeray,” Hrym said. “You mean that island off the coast of Nex? With all the monasteries and tigers and so on?”
    â€œAh,” Rodrick said. “The place where those fighting monks study, isn’t that right? I hear they’ll take anyone who shows talent. You just have to go there and pass some kind of test, where you punch an efreeti in the face, outdrink a marid, spank a djinni—things like that. Then you get to join a House of Perfection and live on rice water and regular beatings for years while you learn how to punch a man’s heart out through his back, or kill someone with your pinky finger. Never saw the point, myself, as a sword is just as effective, and you don’t get blood on your fingers unless you use it wrong.”
    The djinni was not noticeably amused. “Jalmeray is a wondrous island, the westernmost of the Impossible Kingdoms of the Vudrani.”
    â€œAnd this thakur you mentioned is, what? The king?”
    â€œIn essence,” the djinni said.
    â€œHmm. I don’t owe a foreign king any obedience—”
    â€œOh, because you’re so obedient to local kings,” Hrym said.
    Rodrick shrugged. “Local kings tend to have local soldiers who can compel obedience, though, so I walk a bit more softly around them, you have to give me that.”
    â€œThis king of Jalmeray sent a djinni,” Hrym said. “The one standing right here. You remember. Look at him. He’s got a scimitar in each hand, and when he kicks you, you get kicked with a tornado . You want to disobey him?”
    â€œI will not compel your attendance,” the djinni said. “You are invited guests. A ship leaves the docks tomorrow at first light, the Nectar of the Gods , and there is a berth for you if you wish to board. Whether you accept the invitation or not makes no difference to me.”
    â€œAll right, fair enough, but can you give us a hint ?” Rodrick said. “Does this thakur want to hire us to do something unsavory? Marry me off to his ugliest granddaughter to bring some fresh blood to the family line? Give me a medal for some act of heroism that’s temporarily slipped my mind?”
    The djinni still didn’t look amused. Rodrick might give up trying soon at this rate. “I cannot say,” the creature replied. “But for a man from the barbarous lands of the Inner Sea to be granted an audience with the thakur is a great honor.”
    â€œHonor doesn’t fill my belly, or my purse,” Rodrick said.
    â€œMmm. If you proved hesitant, I was instructed to offer this incentive.” The djinni sheathed one of the scimitars—sheathed it where, or in what, exactly, Rodrick couldn’t see, but that was supernatural creatures for you—and reached into the swirling vortex beneath its waist. Its hand reemerged holding a small leather bag, which the djinni tossed to Rodrick.
    The bag clinked endearingly, and a peek inside revealed the warm yellow glow of gold, coins stamped with multi-armed women and elephant heads and roaring tigers.
    â€œThat is merely a taste of the wealth that awaits you,” the djinni said. “If you come to Jalmeray, and reach an accommodation with the thakur, you may well leave the island with your own weight in gold.”
    â€œEvery time someone says that,” Rodrick said, “I wish I were a great deal fatter.” He made the coins disappear almost as