Once the lantern was lit, I knew there would be no turning back. That small, defiant flame perched on the end of the oiled wick seemed to smile at me— as if it held the same sentience as myself. Nevertheless, it was time. One does not enter a dragon’s lair half-cocked. Ideally, one does not enter it at all. But a contract with a djinn is not to be trifled with.

I hadn’t always been a tomb raider— once, when I was still a young man, I had been the assistant to a famous court historian. Ramsey Islington had made his name after unearthing the Circle of the Sphinx in Mallorca. It had been a powerful summoning tool for a forgotten band of Iberians that controlled the eastern coast. I had tagged along as a favor to my uncle, Lord Kenwick. He had made it clear to professor Islington that I was to be made useful to the excavation but not put in harm’s way. Professor Islington failed on both accounts.

Uncovering the Circle of the Sphinx had made Professor Islington reckless. Desperate to prove that he had another great discovery in him, he threw himself into dangerous situations without mortal regard. Serving as his porter, I was compelled to join him. The dread beast that dwelled within the Sahara past Morroco should have been his final warning that he was, in fact, a mortal. Unfortunately, Islington pressed further into forgotten wharves within the desert. Late into the night, under a star-drenched sky, he confessed that he was searching for a lost river— one that had reportedly carried Mansa Musa’s famous treasure across the continent. I listened and nodded, as a young man is wont to do when listening to the unraveling of an older guardian. I knew the desert was keen to swallow us whole— two intrepid explorers that had no business ranging amongst pathways long closed.

Three days beyond our rations and down to a single cannister of water, Professor Islington found an oasis. The shimmering heat waves magnified the small patches of stubborn green growth. It took an entire day to reach the tantalizing sight— as if it kept tip-toeing backwards as we advanced on it. The desperation broke when we heard the trill of a bird— I don’t remember who started running first, but both the professor and I arrived at the muddy edge of the water in a wretched state. We drank the water as if it possessed the answers to life— in which, it did.

We spent a week at the oasis recouping our strength before planning to depart. The professor charted the stars and determined the shortest path back to humanity. Our path would see us head towards the famous university town of Timbuktu. But it wasn’t to be. Before the last night fell— I saw a bright glint among the weeds at the bottom of the spring. I pointed it out to the professor— and he agreed that we should recover whatever it was. He said even if it wasn’t immediately useful, it might eventually help fund the trip.

Wishful thinking.

We stripped down and dove into the water. It became shockingly cold as we closed in on the silver gleaming. I heard muffled whispers that didn’t belong to the water— I pulled my hand back from it, but the professor made contact and we were blown away from the object. A vortex within the water began to pull us towards the bottom— I struggled not to scream and swam for my life. It was no use— we were pulled towards a black maw before my memory blanked.

I woke up coughing water onto a dry stone floor. The air smelled of cinnamon and tar— my limbs felt leaden with exhaustion and I forgot to even look for the professor. Which was just as well because he was no one to be found once I found the energy to stand. I followed the disturbing scent towards a dim light coming from the end of the hallway connected to the small room I found myself in.

I turned the corner to find Professor Islington laying prostrate on the ground before a dark mass that stood in the shape of a man. I looked closer to see the writhing shadows were black scarabs climbing over each other on the godless mass. That too, was wrong.

“Please, please. Spare me— I still have so much to learn!” Islington begged. His voice caught when he heard my feet scuff the stone floor. “Take him instead! He will serve you far better than I ever could. He’s young— malleable. Please!” He wept as he shamelessly tried to sell me to the evil thing before us. It turned towards me— no eyes, nor mouth could be seen.

“This one is quick to betray you. Is he your master?” The monster’s voice sounded amused as it pondered my fate. I felt cold— colder than I had felt since arriving on the continent. I knew I was going to die in this catacomb.

“I’m his ward. He is not my master—” I managed to choke out. I heard a low, rhythmic rumble from the mass. I realized it was laughing at me. I stood there frozen. Unable to act— just waiting for whatever foul end awaited me.

“You have not dropped to your knees. Do you not know who I am?”

I summoned the courage to not shake while I answered, “I do not. Enlighten me.”

“You will not find the light with me— my name is Idder. The likes of which has not been heard for centuries— but once, my name was whispered with the same fear they give Taral.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to release from this tomb.”

“I don’t know how to do that. I don’t even know where we are.”

“All you have to say is ‘akhammake adassifatakhe ouyou’”

“akhamm-ake adassifa-takhe ou-you” I said stumbling over the words. The creature nodded and an invisible force wrapped itself around my body- squeezing tighter and tighter as I tried to say the phrase without pausing. I finally managed it “akhammake adassifatakhe ouyou,” and the force gave a final squeeze and released me. A black smoke flowed from my fingertips and the creature laughed.

“Good. Now, we will leave this one to take my place,” It said focusing on Professor Islington. He lay defeated on the floor- his urine pooled in a small puddle and the acidic smell jabbed at my nose.

“I didn’t mean it! I didn’t mean it. I would have never left you, my boy! Please!” His words fell on deaf ears as I watched the creature morph into a man. He looked ten years my senior— fit, but not laden with muscle. He grabbed my hand and gave a toothy smile before the black smoke returned. It flowed around us—blocking the tomb from view as the Professor began to howl like a wounded animal. His pleas fell away as a sharp wind whipped us away. The smoke dissipated and left us standing at the edge of the pond.

“Grab your things and be ready— we have a dragon to hunt.” The man who had been a monster said as the morning sun rose overhead. I pawed through the Professor’s belongings to find his correspondence book— inside it was empty. All the letters he had read to me from my uncle had been faked. I looked back to the pond, lowered the book, and walked over to the man.

Black smoke surrounded us before another sun ray laid its eyes on us. With that— the oasis was empty and the world bigger than before.