Howl's Moving Castle (47 page)

“It would be just as easy to wish ourselves straight to Kingsbury, intelligent infantryman,” Abdullah pointed out—a little sullenly, if the truth be told.

“Ah, yes, but I’ve got that genie’s measure now, and I know he’d mess that wish up if he possibly could,” the soldier said. “My point is
,
you know how to work that carpet, and you could get us there with much less trouble
and
a wish in hand for emergencies.”

This was sound sense. Nevertheless, Abdullah only grunted. This was because the way the soldier put his advice had made Abdullah suddenly see things a whole new way. Of course, the soldier had got the genie’s measure. The soldier was like that. He was an expert in getting other people to do what he wanted. The only creature that could make the soldier do something he did not want was Midnight, and Midnight did things
she
did not want only when Whippersnapper wanted something. That put the kitten right at the top of the pecking order. A kitten!
thought
Abdullah. And since the soldier had the genie’s
measure,
and the genie was very definitely on top of Abdullah, that put Abdullah right down at the bottom. No wonder he had been feeling so put-upon! It did not make him feel any better to realize that things had been exactly the same way with his father’s first wife’s relations.

So Abdullah only grunted, which in Zanzib would have counted as shocking rudeness, but the soldier was quite unaware of it. He pointed cheerfully at the sky.
“Lovely sunset again.
Look, there’s another castle.”

The soldier was right. There was a glory of yellow lakes in the sky, and islands and promontories, and one long indigo headland of cloud with a frowning square cloud like a fortress on it. “It is not the same as the other castle,” Abdullah said. He felt it was time he asserted himself.

“Of course not.
You never get the same cloud twice,” said the soldier.

Abdullah contrived to be the first one awake the next morning. Dawn was still flaring across the sky when he sprang up, seized the genie bottle, and took it some distance away from the ruins where their camp was. “Genie,” he said. “Appear.”

A flutter of steam appeared at the mouth of the bottle, grudging and ghostly. “What’s this?” it said. “Where’s all the talk about jewels and flowers and so forth?”

“You told me you did not like it. I have discontinued it,” said Abdullah. “I have now become a realist. The wish I want to make is in accordance with my new outlook.”

“Ah,” said the wisp of genie. “You’re going to ask for the magic carpet back.”

“Not at all,” said Abdullah. This so surprised the genie that he rose right out of the bottle and regarded Abdullah with wide eyes, which in the dawnlight looked solid and shiny and almost like human eyes. “I shall explain,” said Abdullah.
“Thus.
Fate is clearly determined to delay my search for Flower-in-the-Night. This is in spite of the fact that Fate has also decreed that I shall marry her. Any attempt I make to go against Fate causes you to make sure that my wish does no good to anyone and usually also ensures that I get pursued by persons on camels or horses. Or else the soldier causes me to waste a wish. Since I am tired both of your malice and of the soldier’s so continually getting his own way, I have decided to challenge Fate instead. I intend to waste every wish deliberately from now on. Fate will then be forced to take a hand, or else the prophecy concerning Flower-in-the-Night will never be fulfilled.”

“You’re being childish,” said the genie.
“Or heroic.
Or possibly mad.”

“No—realistic,” said Abdullah. “Furthermore, I shall challenge
you
by wasting the wishes in a way that might do good somewhere to someone.”

The genie looked decidedly sarcastic at this. “And what is your wish today?
Homes for orphans?
Sight for the blind?
Or do you simply want all the money in the world taken away from the rich and given to the poor?”

“I was thinking,” said Abdullah, “that I
might
wish that those two bandits whom you transformed into toads should be restored to their own shape.”

A look of malicious glee spread over the genie’s face. “You might do worse. I could grant you that one with pleasure.”

“What is the drawback to that wish?” asked Abdullah.

“Oh, not much,” said the genie. “Simply that the Sultan’s soldiers are camped in that oasis at the moment. The Sultan is convinced that you are still somewhere in the desert. His men are quartering the entire region for you, but I’m sure they will spare a moment for two bandits, if only to show the Sultan how zealous they are.”

Abdullah considered this. “And who else is in the desert
who
might be in danger from the Sultan’s search?”

The genie looked sideways at him. “You
are
anxious to waste a wish, aren’t you? Nobody much there except a few carpet weavers and a prophet or so—and Jamal and his dog, of course.”

“Ah,” said Abdullah. “Then I waste this wish on Jamal and his dog. I wish that Jamal and his dog both be instantly transported to a life of ease and prosperity as—let me see—yes, as palace cook and guard dog in the nearest royal palace apart from Zanzib.”

“You make it very difficult,” the genie said pathetically, “for that wish to go wrong.”

“Such was my aim,” said Abdullah. “If I could discover how to make
none
of your wishes go wrong, it would be a great relief.”

“There is one wish you could make to do that,” said the genie.

He sounded rather wistful, from which Abdullah realized what he meant. The genie wanted to be free of the enchantment that bound him to the bottle. It would be easy enough to waste a wish that way, Abdullah reflected, but only if he could count on the genie’s being grateful enough to help him find Flower-in-the-Night afterward. With
this
genie, that was most unlikely. And if he freed the genie, then he would have to give up challenging Fate. “I shall think about that wish for later,” he said. “My wish today is for Jamal and his dog. Are they now safe?”

“Yes,” the genie said sulkily. From the look on his smoky face as it vanished inside the bottle, Abdullah had an uneasy feeling that he had somehow contrived to make this wish go wrong, too, but of course, there was no way to tell.

Abdullah turned around to find the soldier watching him. He had no idea how much the soldier had overheard, but he got ready for an argument.

But all the soldier said was “Don’t quite follow your logic in all that,” before suggesting that they walk on until they found a farm where they could buy breakfast.

Abdullah shouldered Midnight again, and they trudged off. All that day they wandered deep lanes again. Though there was no sign of any constables, they did not seem to be getting any nearer to Kingsbury. In fact, when the soldier inquired from a man digging a ditch how far it was to Kingsbury, he was told it was four days’ walk.

Fate!
thought
Abdullah.

The next morning he went around to the other side of the haystack where they had slept and wished that the two toads in the oasis should now become men.

The genie was very annoyed. “You heard me say that the first person who opened my bottle would become a toad! Do you want me to undo my good work?”

“Yes,” said Abdullah.

“Regardless of the fact that the Sultan’s men are still there and will certainly hang them?” asked the genie.

“I think,” said Abdullah, remembering his experiences as a toad, “that they would rather be men even so.”

“Oh, very well then!” the genie said angrily. “You realize my revenge is in ruins, don’t you? But what do
you
care? I’m just a daily wish in a bottle to you!”

Chapter 14
:
Which tells how the magic carpet reappeared

Once again Abdullah turned around
to find the soldier watching him, but this time the soldier said nothing at all. Abdullah was fairly sure he was simply biding his time. That day, as they trudged onward, the ground climbed. The lush green lanes gave way to sandy tracks bordered with bushes that were dry and spiny. The soldier remarked cheerfully that they seemed to be getting somewhere different at last. Abdullah only grunted. He was determined not to give the soldier an opening.

By nightfall they were high on an open heath, looking over a new stretch of the plain. A faint pimple on the horizon was, the soldier said, still very cheerful, certainly Kingsbury. As they settled down to camp, he invited Abdullah, even more cheerfully, to see how charmingly Whippersnapper was playing with the buckles on his pack.

“Doubtless,” said Abdullah. “It charms me even less than a lump on the skyline that may be Kingsbury.”

There was another huge red sunset. While they ate supper, the soldier pointed it out to Abdullah and drew his attention to a large red castle-shaped cloud. “Isn’t that beautiful?” he said.

“It is only a cloud,” said Abdullah. “It has no artistic merit.”

“Friend,” said the soldier, “I think you are letting that genie get to you.”

“How so?” said Abdullah.

The soldier pointed with his spoon to the distant dark hummock against the sunset. “See there?” he said.
“Kingsbury.
Now, I have a hunch, and I think you do, too, that things are going to start moving when we get there. But we don’t seem to get there. Don’t think I can’t see your point of view: You’re a young fellow, disappointed in love, impatient; naturally you think Fate’s against you. Take it from
me,
Fate doesn’t care either way most of the time. The genie’s not on anyone’s side any more than Fate is.”

“How do you make that out?” asked Abdullah.

“Because he hates everyone,” said the soldier. “Maybe it’s his nature—though I daresay being shut in a bottle doesn’t help any. But don’t forget that whatever his feelings, he’s always got to grant you a wish. Why make it hard for
yourself
just to spite the genie? Why not make the most useful wish you can, get what
you
want out of it, and put up with whatever he does to send it wrong? I’ve been thinking this through, and it seems to me that
whatever
that genie does to send it wrong, your best wish is still to ask for that magic carpet back.”

While the soldier was speaking, Midnight—to Abdullah’s great surprise—climbed to Abdullah’s knees and rubbed herself against his face, purring. Abdullah had to admit he was flattered. He had been letting Midnight get to him as well as the genie and the soldier—not to speak of Fate. “If I wish for the carpet,” he said, “I am prepared to bet that the misfortunes the genie sends with it will far outweigh its usefulness.”

“You bet, do you?” said the soldier, “I never resist a bet. Bet you a gold piece the carpet will be more use than trouble.”

“Done,” said Abdullah. “And now you have your own way again. It perplexes me, my
friend, that
you never rose to command that army of yours.”

“Me, too,” said the soldier. “I’d have made a good general.”

Next morning they woke into a thick mist. Everywhere was white and wet, and it was impossible to see beyond the nearest bushes. Midnight coiled against Abdullah, shivering. The genie’s bottle, when Abdullah put it down in front of them, had a distinctly sulky look.

“Come out,” said Abdullah. “I need to make a wish.”

“I can grant it quite as well from in here,” the genie retorted hollowly. “I don’t like this damp.”

“Very well,” said Abdullah. “I wish for my magic carpet back again.”

“Done,” said the genie. “And let that teach you to make silly bets!”

For a while Abdullah looked up and around expectantly, but nothing seemed to happen. Then Midnight sprang to her feet. Whippersnapper’s face came out of the soldier’s pack, ears cocked sideways to the south. When Abdullah gazed that way, he thought he could just hear a slight whispering, which could have been the wind or something moving through the mist. Shortly the mist swirled—and swirled harder. The gray oblong of the carpet slid into sight overhead and glided to the ground beside Abdullah.

It had a passenger. Curled up on the carpet, peacefully asleep, was a villainous man with a large mustache. His beak of a nose was pressed into the carpet, but Abdullah could just see the gold ring in it, half hidden by the mustache and a dirty drape of headcloth. One of the man’s hands clutched a silver-mounted pistol. There was no question that this was Kabul Aqba again.

“I think I win the bet,” Abdullah murmured.

Even that murmur—or maybe the chilliness of the mist—set the bandit stirring and muttering fretfully. The soldier put his finger to his lips and shook his head. Abdullah nodded. If he had been on his own, he would have been wondering what on earth to do now, but with the soldier there he felt almost equal to Kabul Aqba. As quietly as he could, he made a gentle snoring noise and whispered to the carpet, “Come out from underneath that man and hover in front of me.”

Ripples ran down the edge of the carpet. Abdullah could see it was trying to obey. It gave a strong wriggle, but Kabul Aqba’s weight was evidently just too much to allow it to slide out from under him. So it tried another way. It rose an inch into the air, and before Abdullah realized what it intended to
do,
it had darted out from under the sleeping bandit.