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"Who… what… you can't be the…" I stopped, realizing I had no idea what to say next.
He gazed up at me, a long, luxurious look from behind tiny fringed eyelashes. "I'm the guardian of the horn."
The guardian of the horn? Well, I'd thought it might be sentient. This just proved I was at least half right. "What's your name?"
"You will either earn my name, or you will not, depending on what happens. If you earn my name, then you may wield the horn and control its powers." He grinned then, and I saw that he had really sharp teeth. I backtracked really fast.
"Are you a djinn?"
He shrugged, his expression noncommittal. "No. Now, answer me this: am I telling you the truth?"
Great, a jokester. But as I studied his face, I realized he was anything but joking. "I have no idea," I said after a moment. I couldn't read his energy, couldn't really even read his aura. He didn't smell of demon, but he sure wasn't run-of-the-mill Fae.
"Since you don't have a clue as to whether I'm lying, why did you bother to ask? Not too bright, I'd say." He leaned back against the horn and crossed his arms and began to whistle some aimless tune.
I frowned, more at his attitude than what he said. After all, he was right. Asking if he was a djinn had been stupid. If he was one, then he'd probably just lie to me. Djinns weren't inherently evil, but they were dangerous, and they delighted in causing havoc. And if he wasn't one, well, that didn't ensure that he was telling the truth.
Glancing around, I asked, "So, where are we? Otherworld?"
The spirit lithely jumped off my hand, onto the box. He sat down, cross-legged, and leaned back on his hands. "No, not really. And yet, we aren't Earthside, either."
"The astral?"
"No."
He was seriously starting to tick me off. "Listen bud, I don't have time for guessing games. I don't watch Jeopardy, and I don't play Twenty Questions. So knock it off and tell me what I need to know."
"You don't have much patience, do you?" He jumped off the box and down to the ground. Within seconds, he was cloaked in a puff of green smoke. When the cloud dissipated, he was standing there, seven feet tall and grinning. He held out his hand, and I hesitantly took it, allowing him to help me up. I kept hold of the horn, though. No way was he getting it. Maybe he wasn't a djinn, maybe he really was the guardian of the horn. But either way, I'd be stupid to hand over the artifact to him. It might free him from service, and that could cause one hell of a headache.
"Patience is for those who have the luxury of not being chased by a bunch of demons." I pulled my hand away the moment I was on my feet. The meadow seemed overly bright, and I had trouble seeing very far, even when I shaded my eyes from the brilliant light flooding the lea. The smell of newly mown grass wafted by on the breeze, and the warmth of the sun on my skin made me want to lie right back down and go to sleep. I yawned. "I'm beginning to feel pixie led," I said. "You aren't a pixie, are you?"
"No." He shrugged again. "Don't worry yourself over time. We're outside of it, so this little interlude won't intrude on your schedule. Now, stand here for a moment." He motioned for me to stay where I was, and before I could blink, had receded to the far side of the field.
One minute I stood, holding the horn, wondering what the hell was going on. The next moment, a bolt of lightning came sailing my way, darting like a rocket on steroids. A seriously fry-your-ass-to-a-crispy-critter rocket.
Before I could think about it, I instinctively raised the horn and focused on trying to shield myself, because in the split second I had left, there was no way I could dodge the hundred million volt wake-up call barreling my way.
"Dissipate!" As I spoke, a wavering barrier shot up between me and the burst of Electric Death. There was a loud crash, and the concussion knocked me off my feet, back a good two yards to land hard on my butt. But the barrier did its work, and the lightning discharged, harmlessly reaming into the ground.
As I lay there staring at the worms that wriggled to the surface, shocked by the sudden intrusion into their domain, I couldn't help but think that perhaps I'd made a teensy mistake by accepting Feddrah-Dahns's offer of help.
The spirit was instantly at my side. "You seem to have handled that in good fashion. Here, let me help you up."
I ignored his hand and pushed myself to my feet, wavering as a ripple of dizziness ran through me. "What the fuck were you trying to do? You could have killed me." Eyeing him warily, I checked myself over to make sure nothing was broken or singed.
"I had to test you. Very few can command the power of the horn, and I'm bound to keep it away from those with whom it won't resonate." His voice was so calm that it only inflamed my outrage.
"And just what would have happened if I'd been one of the majority who can't wield the horn? What then, pray tell?" My shock was wearing off. Not a good thing for my wannabe Ben Franklin dude. He'd better make tracks and fast.
He shrugged again. "You would have died."
I stood, rooted to the spot. My jaw refused to close for a moment. Finally, I shut my mouth as a dragonfly zipped a little too close for comfort. I jammed my finger against his chest. Hard. "Died? You would have really let me die?" Again, the casual nod as if I'd just asked him if he liked potato salad. "What would have happened to my body since, according to you, we're standing outside of time?"
"Heart attack." Again, the stupid grin.
Oh cripes. Why worry about Smoky accidentally frying me when I had this miscreant to turn me into witch-on-a-stick? Magical creature be damned! I slammed both my hands against his chest, catching him off guard and sending him stumbling back.
"Who the fuck do you think you are? This is your idea of a test? Hell's whiskers! Gee, let's give her a chance—a slim chance—if she can't wield the horn, we'll just toast her right up? I got news for you, dude. I don't taste that good with butter and jam!"
