Two of the mamluks held tight to Sahib while the others surrounded him with their swords, one swipe away from removing his head from his brittle shoulders.

"Now," Xerxes demanded, leering closely at the ghoul, "You talk. You tell truth. But lie to Xerxes and die."

Sahib sighed. (Which sounded more like a wheeze.) "If I do, promise me that you won't tell Disdain."

"Xerxes promise you not get throat ripped out if you talk."

"Fair enough." The ghoul muttered. He wondered how ridiculous this must've looked- getting death threats barked at you from a fish with a speech impediment.

The eel gave out a small 'hmph' and hovered closer, not taking his little eyes of the zombie. Eager to get on with this to see if Mozenrath was safe, he began; "Where lamp at, mamluk?"

Another wheezy sigh. "Here." Sahib replied in a cautious tone, reaching into his robe, pulling out the black lamp and setting it gently on the ground. "Disdain gave it to me so that Mozenrath wouldn't have a chance to take it back from him."

Clever idea. But not clever enough. Xerxes tilted his head to one side. "Disdain wish?"

Sahib raised an eyebrow. "You mean did he wish for anything?" he reiterated, doing his best to understand the eel's broken sense of grammar. "Yes, he made two wishes. The first one…" He thought for a moment. "The first one was to get his powers back. The second was to take Mozenrath's away. He didn't make a third yet."

"But Mozenrath already…" Xerxes stopped. He remembered that Mozenrath still had the ability to teleport and make things float in the air. Both were weak, but still useful. Evidently, Mozenrath couldn't even do those things anymore. It made him even more nervous, especially picturing him with a fully-capable Disdain.

Carefully, Xerxes swam down to the lamp, rubbing his front fins against it, as he had observed Mozenrath doing before.

As usual the lamp made a few jerks and a cloud of smoke exploded from its nozzle, bringing forth the figure of Jafar.

Jafar blinked, surveying the setting he was in this time.

"Genie!"

He looked down at Xerxes, who was holding the lamp. There were a few mamluks around too, but Mozenrath was absolutely nowhere.

"What's going on?" He demeanded.

Xerxes spoke in an anxious tone. "Talking traitor steal lamp for Disdain! Mozenrath tell Xerxes to look for lamp while he go after him!"

"Mozenrath went after Disdain ….alone?"

"He insist!"

Jafar shut his eyes in frustration. "It's a miracle that boy doesn't kneel over dead every morning."

"Well…" Xerxes lifted the lamp into the air, having a bit of difficulty as it was a bit heavy to him. "Xerxes wish that genie bring us to wherever Disdain be!"

Nothing like being commanded by a flying eel to lift your self-esteem.

"As you wish." Jafar said.

Mozenrath wasn't moving. He laid face-down on the floor with blood leaking out from fresh wounds. A few burn marks were left on his body as well, parts of his clothes having been seared off by what had probably been a blast of fire. His hands were no longer tied, but it hardly mattered right now.

Disdain sneered at him. "You'd better wake up soon." He removed a dagger from his robe. "I want to hear you scream my name when I put this through your-"

"GET HIM!!!"

"Whatthefu-"

Disdain whirled around just in time to see about twenty mamluks charging in his direction. With a low snarl he disappeared and reappeared to another area in the room. Giving a wave of his hand, a blast of black magic took out half the soldiers.

Xerxes held onto the lamp by the handle, keeping his composure in the air. "Uh… Um…. Xerxes wish for three hundred mamluks!"

And that's when the place became a total zombie free-for-all. Disdain let out a shout of both anger and utter confusion as he fought off the ghouls, sending sparks and body parts flying through the air. Xerxes and Jafar quickly made their way over to Mozenrath's body. Disdain hadn't spotted them yet, amongst the chaos, but he would, soon enough.

"Mozenrath?" Xerxes whispered.

No response. No movement.

"Hey, Mozenrath!" He said again, giving him a few light slaps on the shoulder with his fins. Still nothing. Xerxes started to panic.

Jafar knelt down beside the boy, watching him carefully. His body had sustained countless injuries, but he was still alive. The sound of shallow breathing could be heard from his mouth. Knowing how his touch affected him, Jafar gave a sharp pinch to a burn on his left shoulder blade.

The effect was instantaneous as Mozenrath's tired eyes shot open. "Nghh!"

Xerxes gave off a small squeal upon seeing that his master was alright and cuddled up to him.

"Getoffame…" Mozenrath grumbled, trying to shoo him away but winced at the pain when he tried to move. He rolled his tired eyes, which fell onto the black lamp in front of him as they came back into focus.

"Xerxes get lamp like you say."

The wizard smirked and touched it with the fingers of his good hand, which was slightly difficult taking into consideration the large bruise on his shoulder. "I see that…" his eyes wandered over to the genie who was watching him closely.

Disdain, ignored at the moment, brushed off the remains of gore on his person and vanished

Mozenrath closed his eyes and let a cruel smile crawl across his lips. "Heh… I wish…" the words of his last request to the genie were whispered. Then suddenly, his eyes shot wide open as the vengeful ghost stood in front of him.

Xerxes snarled and attempted to bite at the figure, but was met with a blast of black magic, hurtling his slippery little body across the room.

Disdain crouched down, knowing fully well that the genie proved no danger after three wishes, and grasped the scruff of the broken man's neck. "Nice little show there, but pathetic attempt to get away from me, Mozenrath." Instead of hurting him more, as what was expected, the dead man simply gave him a cold smile and leered sharply into his eyes. "You don't want me to leave, do you?"

Mozenrath sneered in disgust.

"You could've used your last wish to send me away permenantly." The grip tightened. "Instead, you wasted it on something else- look at you. You didn't even fix your own crippled corpse you little- Argh!"

Mozenrath blinked.

"He didn't waste it." Jafar hissed, digging his fingernails into the flesh of Disdain's throat from behind. Giving a low growl, the dead man pulled himself free, making the lamp reappear in his hand. "You!"

"Me?" Jafar asked innocently.

Disdain seethed. "Back in the lamp. Now."

Mozenrath, still on the floor, grinned wickedly at that.

"I don't think so."

A smile crept across Jafar's lips.

Xerxes, having recovered a little from the blast, appeared at the Genie's shoulder with a look of astonishment. "Genie… free?"

Disdain blinked.

"Yes, Xerxes, I am."

In that instant, the ghost of disappeared in a burst of black magic.

"Coward!" Xerxes yelled.

"He's not stupid." Mozenrath muttered. "He knows he doesn't stand a chance with a genie in the shape he's in now."

He was met with a scowl from Jafar. "The way you went after him with a sword and two mamluks, you little idiot?"

"I learn from the best." He replied curtly.

The genie smiled. "So I've noticed. Hold still."

"Hm?"

He snapped his fingers, letting off a burst of white light which seemed to swirl around Mozenrath's form. The broken bones knit back into place and the wounds disappeared. It took a moment, but the wizard finally found the strength to sit up. Jafar reached out a helping hand to him, who took it without argument.

"He'll be back." Mozenrath whispered, "He needs time to prepare but he'll be back."

Jafar shrugged. "Let's just worry about getting back to the citadel first."