A doorway opened in the wall before her, where she had not even thought a door existed. From beyond, she could see a golden glow of light that dazzled her eyes with its soft radiance. Hesitantly Selima walked forward, knowing the wind couldn’t harm her but still worried about the fate of her father and her friends.
When the wild wind that carried him down the castle corridors finally stopped, it deposited Jafar al-Sharif on the floor of a darkened room. Jafar lay still on the black floor, so weak from the aftereffects of his magic and the buffeting of the wind that he could barely move. After several minutes, with great effort, he pulled himself first to his knees and then unsteadily to his feet. There was light coming from somewhere, for he could look down and see his body quite plainly—
