XLVII

ELSEWHERE IN THE FLOATING CITY

The Djinn circled Vincenzo slowly. He turned and tried to keep it within view, but it sank deeper into the waters and he felt the swirling currents where it swam past him. He spun and tried to find it, but could not see it. Then he felt it brush against him as if taunting him, and he turned again, and then felt the coarse touch of scales against the back of his legs.

He kicked out, vainly hoping to scare it away. He wanted to keep turning to keep it in front of him, but his limbs were as sluggish as if he was underwater. He tried to lift himself free, but felt himself sinking deeper. It was water but it wasn’t. He could breathe, though it felt thick and stuffy in his mouth. The waters gripped him, but were dry.

He reached out his arms to find something to grab hold of to pull himself free, but there was nothing. He looked up and saw the buildings and bridges of the city. And he saw stars about him. As if the city was floating in the night’s sky. As if the canals were not filled with water, but something darker and heavier.

And the Djinn circled in closer, the large head leaning in closer to his, as if just wanting him to know it was there. He saw the red fire in the eyes and the jaws open in a wide mocking smile.

Vincenzo tossed and turned in his thin bed, legs entangled in the blankets, trying in vain to avoid the beast that circled around inside his head.