Sun Glory For Mankind

Chapter Six

Back at the palace, Semalil was growing impatient. He knew that all his game pieces were not set up yet, but he was eager to get the ball rolling. Every contrivance, every ploy, every scheme had to be set up perfectly, or he risked failure. But he was not one used to waiting, and his spine shivered with displeasure. He was even finding little time to enjoy Jasmine, who was a puppet to his plan since his eyes had convinced her that he was the true Aladdin.

"Maybe there's a way to hasten his homecoming," Semalil pondered aloud. "Perhaps he just needs a little purple persuasion."

He picked up one of the toys he had stolen from the late Sultan. It was a crocodile, with a long vicious snout and sturdy legs.

"I will call you, Cambrunsinburg. Awaken," Semalil said, blowing on the figure.

At once it sprung to life, standing before the Green Warden. "My life-giver!" the crocodile said in a throaty voice, lowering his head in reverence before Semalil.

"I have a drink for you," said his benefactor, pouring the contents of a vial down the crocodile's throat. It's forelegs became like hands, and the vertebral column realigned itself, until standing before Semalil was a biped monster, instead of the quadruped it had been a mere moment ago.

"What an improvement!" marveled the pseudo-Aladdin. "But that's not the only alteration I hope for you. I wish you to take this powder," handing him a bottle, "and smother it all over your skin."

The crocodile proceeded to obey this caprice of Semalil's, and when he had finished, the latter held up a mirror to his face. Cambrumsinburg was astonished to see a purple, almost lavender, mug staring back at him.

He nearly let out a roar, but then remembered that this is something crocodiles cannot do. A lingering gasp arose in the air, after he realized just how horrendous this transformation was.

"Now, there is one more thing," Semalil said. "You will not travel alone. With you will go three companions, Tonclor, Bactrax, and Onlepth." The figures appeared out of a crusty smoke as he called their names.

Tonclor was taller than Cambumsinburg, with about eight feet between his forehead and the ground. Bactrax was as obese as a sumo wrestler, and his snout was lengthened. But Onlepth seemed to be so small that at first the leader couldn't see him. The tip of the last crocodile's head barely reached Cambumsinburg's knee. He was also as thin as a toothpick. Cambumsinburg grunted, not believing that such a little wasp would be of any use.

"Now, mush!"

Nobody moved. Tonclor spoke up. "Isn't mush what they say to order sled dogs about in Alaska?"

"It doesn't matter," Semalil said. "All that is of any moment is that you get your hineys out of here, find Aladdin and make one hundred percent sure that he never comes back! Got that?"

"Yes, master," Cambumsinburg said, bowing.

The troupe left, and Semalil breathed a sigh of relief. He had feared that the crocodiles would be too slow to carry out his orders. The day progressed, and he soaked in some sun, which was not a good sight, since it blemished his green skin. Six hours after the crocodiles had left the palace, he had a brilliant idea.

"What if," he said, pulling out a rhinoceros figurine, "I were not only to create Aladdin's destroyers but also his protector? That would be a fun game."

He brought it near his face. "Brummagem, awaken," he said, blowing on it.

The same ritual progressed. A rhino appeared, and Semalil forced it to take a drink. It turned into a biped, but instead of having it rub lavender powder over its skin, this time it was bile-colored. The rhino shrieked so loudly when he saw his transformation that he broke three mirrors.

"Your job is to keep Aladdin out of harm's way," Semalil said. 'But do not meet him until he leaves Zancrushin Valley and obtains the Golden Keycorn. If you do, this game will be pointless. Now, go!"

Brummagem did not hesitate. A few guards saw him running out, and they were alarmed. But when they came to ask the pseudo-Aladdin about it, he just dismissed Brummagem as a phantasm.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Aladdin was worrying about how to reach their next destination.

"Zancrushin Valley," Ruffian said. "It's quite a distance, and without Niggle, we are presented with a handicap. Why not hire a rickshaw?"

"What's a rickshaw?"

"Sort of like a taxi. It's a wagon in which one rides, and a runner pulls the wagon to wherever you wish to go, for a price."

"I didn't bring any money with me."

"Oh, the rickshaw drivers in the next town don't want money. They specialize in maggots."

Aladdin turned to the place where Niggle had been tethered. There was the barrel of maggots he had received in exchange for the Magic Carpet. "We'll meet again friend, I hope," he said, using apostrophe, as Carpet was obviously not present to hear this optimism.

They trudged to the town and found a man with a milky-white moustache near such a cart as Ruffian had described. "Can you take me to Zancrushin Valley?"

"That's a long distance, aye! It will cost you a barrelful of maggots."

Aladdin lifted the lid of his barrel. The maggots seemed so grotesque; he was glad that he would no longer be forced to carry this burden.

"Well, then, that's just the right amount. Put it behind the counter and place a krinsem cloth over it, so that no one will have a mind to run off with it while I'm away. I'll go prepare the rickshaw."

The man went outside, and Ruffian followed him. "Wait, where are you going?" Aladdin asked.

"He's not to be trusted. I have a feeling that he's planning to cheat you."

"But he left me with the maggots. What could he get out of it?"

"I'll explain later. If I don't pinch him with these puissant chelae of mine, he'll disappear before you can say 'Jiminy Cricket.'"

Aladdin quickly put the krimsen cloth over the barrel and went out of the shop. The rickshaw was ready, and Ruffian was pinching left and right. "Get your dumb, iridescent crab away from me!"

"I'm not dumb," Ruffian said, "for I can talk. I'm not a crab, for I am a lobster. And I'm not iridescent, for I am only one color and do not ever change."

"He was just trying to make sure it's not a swindle," Aladdin said, hopping in the rickshaw, with the lobster coming in after him.

"If you try anything funny, I've got a few bruises I'd like to give you," Ruffian said.

The driver with the milky moustache groaned, but he pulled up the two handles and started running. It took two hours to arrive at the valley, since the driver had to take an occasional rest break.

The two passengers decamped, and Ruffian made one last swipe at the driver's foot before he and his rickshaw left them.

"Now, why did you have to follow him when we could've just taken the maggots if he was going to swindle us?"

"Because you were going to put a krimsen cloth over the barrel. That cloth is covered with an oil known as vendorsuite, and when it is put over any object, the object is transported to another site and replaced with an empty one of its kind. It's sort of like a Portkey, except not. Anyhow, an empty barrel would've awaited you if you had removed the cloth."

"If I didn't have you around, Ruffian, I might get hoodwinked. Now, where would Nharla be?" he asked, glancing around the valley.

"I think that tent might be a perfect domicile," Ruffian said.

The tent in question was red with white stripes. Or was it white with red stripes? It was hard to tell. Aladdin entered cautiously, with Ruffian following as quiet as a mouse.

A peal of thunder was heard when they entered. "Who goes there?" asked an eerie voice.

"It is I, Aladdin, sent on an errand from the Genie, in order to find the woman Nharla."

"Genie?" the voice asked. A young woman stepped forward from the shadows. "Oh, you're the boy that stole Jafar's girl."

"She was not Jafar's! She never even like him, and she loved me!"

"Is that so? Allow me to show you something."

Aladdin gave Ruffian a look that said, Can we trust her? Ruffian nodded, and so Aladdin allowed Nharla to lead him into the back room of the tent, where a large screen like the one at a theater stood. At first the images on the screen were hazy, but they gradually became clearer and clearer and focus. Aladdin saw himself, only with a sickly green hue. "Is that a mirror?" he asked.

"Raise your right arm," Nharla said, as her only answer.

Aladdin obliged. The green Aladdin on the screen did not raise his left.

"It's not a mirror," he concluded. "But what is it?"

"Watch."

The screen shifted, and Aladdin saw Jasmine, as beautiful as ever. She seemed to be reading aloud from a poetry book. Aladdin could not hear a thing she was saying, but there was a smile on her face. Had she forgotten her father already? And how could she be happy while he, her husband, was away? Then Jasmine stood up and went over to Semalil's throne, kissing him on the lips.

"But that's not me!" Aladdin tried to shout at Jasmine.

"She cannot hear you," Nharla said. Her voice had suddenly become coy.

Aladdin turned to her. He had already noted her youth, but now he saw that she possessed a rare level of comeliness. Indeed, as much as he hated to admit it, she outshone Jasmine in beauty. He tried to shake himself of the thought, but it just wouldn't leave him.

"Before I tell you what you must do, why not check your fortune with some tarot cards?"

"You can see the future?"

"I like to think so. Actually, I often say the future can see me."

"Well, I suppose it couldn't…hurt," Aladdin said, not bothering to turn to Ruffian. Every time Nharla spoke, he had a greater amount of eagerness to spend time with her. Whatever would hinder his leave-taking of her was welcome.

Nharla now led him to another back room in the tent, where there was a card table. She sat down on one side, and he sat across from her. She shuffled a deck and pulled three cards, turning them over one by one as she explained them.

"Ivory. That could mean one of two things. Either there is a traitor in your future, or you will encounter a whale before you get home."

"It must be the former. Jasmine's already betrayed me, and it's unlikely I'll meet a whale, since I don't have to cross the ocean to reach home."

"Second card," said Nharla. ""Three swords. There will be three kinsmen and three wraiths in your future."

"What's a wraith?"

"A wraith is a sort of ghost."

"Ah, I don't believe in those creatures. Once someone is dead, they are gone."

"People who have lost their true love to death believe that the spirit of the loved one comes back for them when it is their turn to die."

"That's great in theory, but until I see it, I will not believe it."

"Let's just have faith that you'll never be given that opportunity," Nharla said, knowing that every word she spoke increased Aladdin's love for her. She turned over the last card. "No! It's the calf's head. This means mortal peril before a battle is won. This certainly spells your doom, Aladdin!"

Aladdin almost found it hard to choke out a syllable, but he finally managed to say, "I'm sure…it's not for certain, is it? One can change their future, can't they?"

"Certainly, but I wouldn't risk it if I were you. Hey, I just had an idea. How about you not assemble the Golden Keycorn, remain here with me as if you were my husband, and not bother about Jasmine ever again?"

"I can't do that, Nharla. I am determined to finish this game."

"Fine," she said, exasperated. "Follow me."

This time she took him outside the tent to a tiny garden, where ears of maize were glistening in the sunlight. "You need to find Golden Keycorn, which is hidden among these stalks. They are very rare, and you will have to gather at least seven of them before you can create a key, which is what you are here for. I will help you with the first, because it is doubtful that you've seen Golden Keycorn before."

She searched about and spotted the ear she wanted. "See how this has a small red tint to it, which slightly conceals the green hue underneath? You must find similar stalks to this one, but I warn you, it won't be easy. It might take you days if you don't have keen eyes. I cannot help you, but I will be more than happy to keep you company."

Aladdin walked about among the corn stalks, while Nharla prattled away. In some ways, her chatting was a hindrance, for he would rather listen to her beautiful voice than search meticulously for Golden Keycorn. By the time dusk set in, he had only gathered five ears, counting the one Nharla had helped him find.

"There's no use searching in the dark," she said. "Let's go inside."

By this time, Aladdin was as in love with Nharla as he had been when he and Jasmine first kissed. While he slept, she remained awake, murmuring in the same room.

When he awoke, his head was so full of Nharla that only a vestige of his love for Jasmine remained. He couldn't even remember his wife's name, just her image. But Nharla seemed so much nicer.

It took him seven hours to find the other two ears he needed, among the millions of stalks. At last it was time to make the key.

Nharla demonstrated how it was to be done. Using a piece of turkin string and a bottle of glue, Aladdin had to attach the kernels together until he had created something in the shape of a key. He would know he finished when it glowed bright red.

Aladdin worked diligently on the key, but his fingers were not nimble enough, and Nharla persuaded him to take a rest the first day. He was still not done on the eve of the second day, and he practically had to be goaded to even continue when dawn roused from him from his dreams on the fourth morning since his visit to Nharla's tent.

'Finally, at noon, he completed the key, but by this time he had forgotten Jasmine altogether. Thus, when Nharla beseeched him to remain with her and evade danger, he had the temerity to say, "I will remain."