There was pounding on the door behind them. A dim voice called questioningly, and another, louder bang was heard. Markus cursed, though he knew he should count himself lucky that the princess had locked the door behind them. That, and Emmaline seemed to be back to her old self. Once they got out of this mess, he'd give the witch her the necklace back, he reminded himself.
The blades flashed in the lamplight, sending shadows and light spiraling across the chamber. It was briefly halted by Emmaline's launching of various peices of furniture. The first one Mavikim ducked under, which meant it was flying at Markus. The pirate leaped out of its path just in time before it shattered into the ground. "Hey-!" He tried to call at Emmaline, but he was too busy to continue as she continued to throw various objects as he waded in and out of combat. His boot audibly scraped along the ground after another lunge by Mavikim, who was beginning to look a bit more desperate. He had the look of one that wasn't used to not being in complete control of the situation. How did that work for his Eunuch outside? Markus thought wryly.
Meanwhile, the Arabyan woman had slunk away from Emmaline's position, eyes still intent on the lamp. The action of the two men fighting had kept even the asp's attention from her, though it seemed Mavikim was acutely aware of her position. Abruptly, Mavikim made a wild sweep of his curved blade, swiping across Markus's guard. It was a bit less skilled than his previous attacks. Had Markus been a lesser swordsman, he wouldn't have been able to recover so quickly, but Mavikim's intentions became evidently clear once he made a dive passed Markus, grabbing for the lamp within the coils of the adder. Jahazra screamed in denial and scrambled for it as well.
Markus lashed out with his knee, crashing into the diving Mavikim's chest like a hammer. It stung the pirate, but it sent the Arabyan Pasha flying off course into a rough tumble along the hard floor. The asp hissed, but halted once it felt its lengthy body losing the item it had been wrapped about from a sudden lift and a shake. The Princess had more confidence than she had before, it seemed. Like a child yanking a toy out of their younger sibling's hands, she let the snake fall to the floor and held aloft the small brass item, giddy as could be. In fact, she looked positively wicked in the fiery light, cackling.
"Yes!" She cried, raising the thing high into the air above her. Markus had to admit the light and the sudden nefarious turn to the once demure woman was fairly alluring in a way. She smiled wickedly, rubbing the faded brass along its side with her diminutive palm. "The power is mine! The power of the dreaded Djinn that only sultan's wield! Mightly Djinn, kill all in the room save me and make me the Pasha of this land! Do my bidding under Allah!"
The pronouncement sent echoes across the room, and Mavikim looked utterly defeated; horrified even.
But after the seconds passed, it eventually became clear that nothing had happened. The asp flicked its tongue in annoyance and slithered lazily over to Emmaline as Markus sheathed his backsword. The tension and fear mounting in the princess, who now realized she had shown her true colors, was palpable. Markus smiled with a smug expression, letting it slowly sink in that she held a small pot, rather than a lamp.
"This must be embarrassing for you," Markus tsked, shaking his head and drawing out a brass lamp from the folds of his cloak. Emmaline cackled in surprise whilst the Princess's jaw dropped. The pirate chortled, unable to halt his amusement at the two Arabyans utter defeat. "You know, I wasn't entirely certain how to use this thing. I figured I'd wait and let things play out, so I did a small switch. Thanks for letting me know that you need to rub it..."
With a wicked smile, he did so.
An unseen force popped the top off of the lamp like it had been flicked derisively. Despite his bravado, Markus was a supersitious man. He did his best to hold his dignity in check once the swirling torrent of smoke and flame leaped out of the small brass lamp like a Tilean Typhoon! Up and up it went, gathering in size and splendor, filling the very top of the large bedchamber with its girth as the storm coalesced into a being the shape of a herculean man. Markus blinked, not entirely knowing what to expect. A part of him thought it was a daemon of the north, but Emmaline didn't seem frightened, only enraptured by the sight. The thing's skin was the color of blood and coal, depending on where the light hit it. Bangles were clutched to his forearms, and its beard and hair were braided and long. Its blazing eyes gazed about the room, emitting a deep rumble from its belly that erupted into a full blown laugh.
"So!" It said, its voice echoing with immense authority. It pierced the very mind and commanded obedience, though Markus knew it was a ruse. The pirate was not the slave here, so he raised his head high as the Djinn spoke. "My master and that woman whom I stole have been degraded! I have waited many years for such a sight. Who is it that summons me to such a treat?" It demanded, glinting with lusty interest at Emmaline until it followed the path of the smoke to Markus.
"Great Djinn!" He cried to it. "I have heard tale you do the bidding of any who hold your lamp! But I do not wish to enslave someone so great as you. Let us parlay, mighty one!"
"Parley?" The Djinn remarked, thinking. Its massive hand, somehow both gaseous and solid all at once, stroked its wispy beard. Markus gave another wink at Emmaline. "What would you wish of me, northern one?"
"I wish you send both me and Emmaline Von Morganstern back to our ship with all of the gold in this palace!" He cried, and an evil smile spread across his face. "But I do not desire for you to be without compensation, as your previous master had so rightly denied you! Do that, and I shall allow you to acquire both the pasha and the princess as your own slaves! To help you pass the time in your millennia of bondage."