Free Rebels of the Lamp, Book 1 by Peter Speakman Page B

a rumor, spoken in hushed voices, that there is one more
genie, a genie that Xaru creates as I write this. The last of his brothers will be an abomination, a monster so grotesque as to turn all those who see him immediately into glass. Impressive! If
this is true, he will be the greatest power to walk the Earth.
    How proud I am of my son Xaru! If not for my condition, I would be standing beside him, laughing as my fellow men are cut down by fire and magick. Xaru is right! There is no
reasoning with humanity! They must be put down, one by one, until their wills are broken and they beg for mercy.
    Fon-Rahm, the fool, stands with the humans. He is brave but deluded. He cannot win against Xaru’s beautiful genie army. I can hear them as they battle in the skies above
the city, and I can feel the ground shake as they trade mighty blows. Buildings fall. Fires burn. Humanity is doomed, no matter how valiantly my first son strives to fend off the inevitable. Men
will be slaves, perfectly docile pets for their genie masters.
    Some even know that this is for the best. In the West, a cult has sprung up based only on spoken stories of Xaru and his brothers, a group of fanatic men who worship the
genies as gods. I applaud their enlightenment. They may be the only wise men left.
    The specter of my dead family haunts me. They follow me everywhere now, always in the shadows, never saying a word but simply staring at me with pleading eyes. They are in my
chambers even now. I try to talk to them, begging them to forgive me for not saving their lives, but my voice goes right through them, as if I were the one that did not really exist. The sight of
them tortures me, but my time grows short, and I suppose I will not have to bear it for much longer.
    Word has reached me here that Tarinn has struck a deal with the sultan. He knows that his claims to power fade like smoke from a dying fire, and he is desperate to keep his
hold on the city. Tarinn believes that she can trap the genies in metal boxes. She has no chance for success. Her sorcery is strong, but she is no match for my magnificent creations. Let her try
and be destroyed with the others for her impudence.
    Would that I could be there to see her extermination at the hands of Xaru and his genie army. But I remain rooted here.
    Each genie that Xaru creates further takes a piece of my own life force. I, Vesiroth, immortal wizard of untold knowledge and might, am reduced to a state of living death. I
move as slowly as the oldest man. Each gesture takes hours instead of seconds. It has taken me days to write this, my final entry before I am frozen like a stone statue for eternity.
    My only wish now is to see the triumph of horror over mankind, but it will have to go on without me. When Xaru completes his last genie, all my life force will be gone from
me. I will be frozen, a living statue, able to think but not to act. Soon, I fear I will no longer be able to mov
    [TRANSLATOR’S NOTE: The author’s handwriting here trails off in an indecipherable scrawl.]

14
    THERE WAS A CLAP OF THUNDER. Both Parker and Theo agreed on this, later on. They didn’t mistake it for gunfire, either, because it
didn’t sound like gunfire. It sounded like what it might sound like if a bolt of lightning had struck about, say, two feet in front of them.
    They didn’t see what happened, because both of them had their eyes squeezed shut in the completely unfounded belief that what they couldn’t see couldn’t hurt them, but they
could still hear, and what they heard were gunshots. Lots of gunshots.
    Parker, pleasantly surprised to find himself intact and unshot, opened his eyes first. It didn’t help. The ditch was filled with a deep fog so thick that Parker couldn’t see anything
at all. He walked a step and tripped over the now-open canister. It was empty. He looked up to see Theo inches from his face. Theo looked as confused as Parker felt.
    They heard the men yelling in their strange language,