Castle in the Air. Diana Wynne Jones
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Illustrated by Tim Stevens
For Francesca
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE In which Abdullah buys a carpet
CHAPTER TWO In which Abdullah is mistaken for a young lady
CHAPTER THREE In which Flower-in-the-Night discovers several important facts
CHAPTER FOUR Which concerns marriage and prophecy
CHAPTER SIX Which shows how Abdullah went from the frying pan into the fire
CHAPTER SEVEN Which introduces the genie
CHAPTER EIGHT In which Abdullah’s dreams continue to come true
CHAPTER NINE In which Abdullah encounters an old soldier
CHAPTER TEN Which tells of violence and bloodshed
CHAPTER ELEVEN In which a wild animal causes Abdullah to waste a wish
CHAPTER TWELVE In which the law catches up with Abdullah and the soldier
CHAPTER THIRTEEN In which Abdullah challenges Fate
CHAPTER FOURTEEN Which tells how the magic carpet reappeared
CHAPTER FIFTEEN In which the travellers arrive at Kingsbury
CHAPTER SIXTEEN In which strange things befall Midnight and Whippersnapper
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN In which Abdullah at last reaches the Castle in the Air
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Which is rather full of princesses
CHAPTER NINETEEN In which a soldier, a cook and a carpet seller all state their price
CHAPTER TWENTY In which a djinn’s life is found and then hidden
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE In which the castle comes down to earth
CHAPTER ONE In which Abdullah buys a carpet
Far to the south of the land of Ingary, in the Sultanates of Rashpuht, a young carpet merchant called Abdullah lived in the city of Zanzib. As merchants go, he was not rich. His father had been disappointed in him and, when he died, he had only left Abdullah just enough money to buy and stock a modest booth in the north-west corner of the Bazaar. The rest of his father’s money, and the large carpet emporium in the centre of the Bazaar, had all gone to the relatives of his father’s first wife.
Abdullah had never been told why his father was disappointed in him. A prophecy made at Abdullah’s birth had something to do with it. But Abdullah had never bothered to find out more. Instead, from a very early age, he had simply made up daydreams about it. In his daydreams, he was really the long-lost son of a great prince, which meant, of course, that his father was not really his father. It was a complete castle in the air and Abdullah knew it was. Everyone told him he had inherited his father’s looks. When he looked in a mirror, he saw a decidedly handsome young man, in a thin, hawk-faced way, and knew he looked very like the portrait of his father as a young man – always allowing for the fact that his father wore a flourishing moustache, whereas Abdullah was still scraping together the six hairs on his upper lip and hoping they would multiply soon.
Unfortunately, as everyone also agreed, Abdullah had inherited his character from his mother – his father’s second wife. She had been a dreamy and timorous woman, and a great disappointment to everyone. This did not bother Abdullah particularly. The life of a carpet merchant holds few opportunities for bravery and he was, on the whole, content with it. The booth he had bought, though small, turned out to be rather well placed. It was not far from the West Quarter where the rich people lived in their big houses surrounded by beautiful gardens. Better still, it was the first part of the Bazaar the carpet-makers came to when they came into Zanzib from the desert to the north. Both the rich people and the carpet-makers were usually seeking the bigger shops in the centre of the Bazaar, but a surprisingly large number of them were ready to pause at the booth of a young carpet merchant when that young merchant rushed out into their paths and offered them bargains and discounts with most profuse politeness.
In this way, Abdullah was quite often able to buy best quality carpets before anyone else saw them, and sell them at a profit too. In between buying and selling he could sit in his booth and continue with his daydream, which suited him very well. In fact, almost the only trouble in his life came from his father’s first wife’s relations, who would keep visiting him once a month in order to point out his failings.
“But you’re not saving any of your profits!” cried Abdullah’s father’s first wife’s brother’s son, Hakim (whom Abdullah detested), one fateful day.
Abdullah explained that, when he made a profit, his custom was to use that money to buy a better carpet. Thus, although all his money was bound up in his stock, it was getting to be better and better stock. He had enough to live on.