“You’re welcome. Your messages helped.”
“You understand that they were watching me.”
“Yes.” Then, heeding Jewel’s suggestion, I larded it on. “You behaved in a loyal, sensible manner.”
Faddy paused. I could tell he was significantly pleased. “Do you need me any more, now that you have recovered the Ifrit Iften?”
“I’ll always need you. You’re great company. Do you have any advice?”
Faddy glanced at Jewel. “You’re civilizing him already.”
“Civilized men are easier to handle,” Jewel said.
The ifrit’s lips quirked. “In contrast to civilized women.”
“Someone needs to do the handling.”
“Just so.” Faddy looked at me. “Iften’s depleted from the savaging by Prince Zeyn. He can still do a lot more than I can, but you should probably save him for when you really need him.”
That was surely good advice. I had figured on simply having Lamprey pop us to Samarkand, but chances were I needed his power also to deal with Jewel’s brute of a husband. No sense wasting him on small stuff. Jewel was right to have me encourage Faddy. “But we have to get to Samarkand swiftly. He can take us there.”
“But you can make it easier on him if you manage correctly.”
“How so?”
“Get in the lamp.”
I stared at him. “Come again?”
“Use it as a convenient transport vehicle. It will be much easier for Iften to carry the lamp there than two full-grown mortal people who need to be protected from extreme acceleration, atmospheric thinning, the chill of the heights, radiation, time dilation, and so on.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. “We just want to pop out here and pop in there, the way ifrits do.”
“But ifrits are immortal, largely impervious, and we can reconstitute our damaged substance. We can handle the rigors of rapid transit. You mortals are dangerously delicate.”
This quibbling was annoying me. “And how could we ever fit in the little lamp?”
“The same way Iften does. Diffuse and compact.”
“We’re not ifrits! We’re locked to our normal density here.”
“Normally, yes. But the lamp is special. Invoke the right spell, and it will take you in.”
“But I don’t want to be squished into that tight little space!”
“It won’t seem like that to you.”
“We’ll be squished together,” Jewel murmured.
I reconsidered. How bad could it be, jammed in close to her? “Okay, we’ll try the lamp. What else?”
“You will need a plan of attack. You will have time to work it out in the lamp, because it’s like Djinnland: no time passes outside it, for you, regardless how long you remain inside.”
Being squeezed up against Jewel for an indefinite period. The notion had its appeal. “What else?”
“One thing to be aware of is that the woman’s evil ex-husband has magical assistance. We have seen the power of his allies. They will be aware of any magic practiced in their vicinity, and will home in on it instantly. Then you’ll be finished.”
“But we’ll have Lamprey.”
“Iften at full power could handle it, yes. But Iften depleted will simply get himself captured again, and you may be sure Zeyn will be more careful next time to see that he never gets sprung. Your available force is limited; you need to manage it carefully. Otherwise you are courting disaster.”
“Excellent point,” Jewel said. “We came close enough to disaster in Djinnland. We don’t need any more of that.”
“All right,” I said impatiently to cover my nervousness. Disaster meant Jewel becoming a sex slave and me a monarch serving the nefarious purposes of Zeyn. We couldn’t risk that. “Jewel and I will discuss it while we’re in the lamp.”
Jewel took my hand and squeezed it affirmatively. She was managing me, but I rather liked it.
We were arriving at Abu Bakr’s house. Faddy faded out; he had become invisible. “Halloo!” I called.
The sage emerged, surprised to see us. “How is it you are returning from that direction? There is only the mountain there.”
“We took a roundabout route.” It seemed he did not know about the other access to Djinnland, or wasn’t telling. Maybe he knew of it, but also knew how dangerous it was.
He took stock, visibly. “Did you accomplish your mission?”
“Yes. Now we need to move on to Samarkand. Have you any advice before we go?”
“If you visited Djinnland and returned intact, you need no further advice from me. Do you wish to have your horses back?”
“Keep them. We won’t be using them.”
“May I offer you some food for your journey?”
“Yes,” Jewel said. “Make it to go.”
“Are you sure?”
Jewel merely inhaled. The sage froze in place, momentarily stunned.
“We could also use some clothing,” I said, remembering that we were naked. No wonder Jewel was impressing the man so. Even the oldest and wisest sage was not immune to that.
Soon we had modest clothing, a loaf of bread, and a jug of wine. We thanked the sage and departed afoot. If Abu Bakr was curious how we proposed to travel, he masked it well.
When we were alone and shielded from any observation, we organized for the journey. I rubbed the lamp.
Lamprey, or more properly Iften, emerged as a column of smoke that formed into his normal aspect. “What is your wish?”
“We want to take your place in the lamp and have you transport us to Samarkand,” I said briskly. “Can you do that?”
“Readily, when so directed. Where in Samarkand?”
I turned to Jewel. “Where?”
“I don’t know exactly. We’d better go to an inn while Faddy explores and locates my son.”
“I don’t have to take orders from you,” Faddy said.
Jewel smiled at him. “It’s that you have such ability and finesse that only you can do this job properly.”
The ifrit, swayed, glanced at me. What powers of persuasion the woman had!
“We need you,” I agreed.
“In that case, I’ll be glad to.”
“So be it,” Lamprey said.
Then Jewel and I were in a pleasant room girt with soft cushions and a bed mat. A set of dice lay in a corner. In a moment I realized that the chamber was in the shape of a lamp. Lamprey must entertain himself shooting dice while confined here. I was aware of no motion; if the lamp was traveling at high velocity it did not seem to affect the interior. This was, in short, a comfortable way to travel.
Jewel settled on the bed with the bread and wine. “Care to join me?” she inquired. Her lovely thighs showed under her skirt as she raised her knees. That could not have been accidental.
I joined her. What else could I do? “What do you have in mind?” I asked cautiously, sure it wasn’t romance.
“Our strategy, of course,” she said as she tore off a piece of bread and offered it to me. She was still showing me how she could be when pleased. “We are not going to be able to simply walk in and claim my son. In fact any approach will alert them. They may even be using my son as a lure to bring us in for capture. That may have been their plot from the beginning.”
That made unkind sense. “So what do we do?”
“That is for you to figure out, my lord.”
“Jewel, by now you know me well enough to know that I’m not all that smart. You’re going to have to help me.”
“You’re stupid like a fox in a grape yard. Now exert your native cunning.”
“Jewel—”
“Oh, all right, you beggar.” She moved close and kissed me. “Does that do it?”
“I meant some hint about where your son might be, and how I am to recognize him if I see him.”
“You mean I wasted a kiss I didn’t have to give?” she demanded severely. But then she smiled. “Here is my best hint: I told him long ago that if he were ever
in a situation he did not trust, and perhaps feared for his life, to be wary of the food. They might use it to drug him, or as part of a ceremony.”
“Such as a ritual sacrifice?”
“That was not in my mind at the time, but yes, now it fits perfectly. Gods of any stripe are choosy about what they accept as sacrifices. The offerings have to be healthy and eager to participate.”
“Which means a good meal and the promise of life in paradise,” I said. “Only a child will not know that the paradise is not in the mortal realm.”
“Exactly. So I told him to demand something excruciatingly rare, such as yak’s milk cheese.”
“That’s not that rare. Merchants bring it from the eastern mountains. Expensive, but available.”
“With chocolate sauce.”
“With what?”
“Chocolate sauce. The jinni fetch it from the far, far west, I understand. It is said to be fabulously tasty.”
“That’s rare,” I agreed.
“Their sacrifice will not be valid without it.”
“Assuming your son does ask for it.”
“He’s a smart boy.”
Now my mind was percolating. “I know a cheese merchant who owes me a favor and can be trusted,” I said. “He will tell them he can get chocolate in a week, for a ridiculously high price.”
“They’ll need it tonight.”
“Precisely. Cowed by their offer of riches coupled with their threat of beheading him if he fails, he will reluctantly agree to have his eunuch deliver it before nightfall.”
“But that will set them up to sacrifice my son!”
“Ah, but I will be there with my lamp.”
“How can you be there when you don’t even know where?” Then she paused. “That eunuch—you!”
“The same,” I agreed. “I’ll put the boy in the lamp, and we’ll be off before they realize.”
“You devious genius!” This time her kiss was enough to make any thought of being a eunuch dissipate in steamy smoke.
Then suddenly we were standing in a private courtyard. Lamprey had completed the journey to Samarkand and rubbed the lamp to bring us out.
It was time for action.
Chapter Nineteen
Although it was mid-day and we were alone in the courtyard, a cold chill swept through me. I had trained myself to be wary of such chills. They were, in my experience, indication of dark magic.
“Faddy,” I called, rubbing my ring.
The ifrit appeared by my side in a puff of billowing smoke that quickly solidified into a man. “Yes, master.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please, for the love of Allah, stop calling me master.”
“As you wish. Is that why you summoned me?”
“Of course not,” I snapped. “Are we being watched?”
“I cannot know this until I have poked around.”
“Then poke away.”
“As you wish, master,” he said, disappearing, and I not-so-silently ground my teeth.
Jewel came up next to me and rested a long-fingered hand gently on my forearm, causing a shiver of pleasure to course through me. She said, “You do realize that he’s magically required to call you master?”
“He’s also magically required to do my bidding.”
“Then perhaps he enjoys toying with you. Remember, my lord, we need his help, which, I believe, could be considerable. So go lightly on him. After all, you are his master, as you are Lamprey’s. Some things are inevitable.”
Her words struck home, and I wondered if her speech had a deeper, perhaps more widespread meaning. Some things had been inevitable for me, like leading a kingdom, which I had readily given up in my grief and sorrow.
I said nothing; merely considered her words, and soon Faddy re-appeared invisibly next to my ear. “There’s a large contingent of men closing in on you. From what I gather, they were alerted by your sudden appearance. This city is heavily monitored by Zeyn and his forces. Very little magically can happen within Samarkand without his immediate knowledge, including my own appearances by your side.”
I shook my head. I always loathed this city, and this was further proof. I said, “So every time I summon you—”
“Zeyn can zero in on you immediately.”
“That could be problematic.”
“Perhaps, but you are wily old king. I am certain you can circumvent this using your fox-like cunning.”
“Don’t patronize me, ifrit. Begone.”
“As you wish, master,” he said, and although I couldn’t see him, I suspected Faddy had bowed deeply, grinning all the way down.
I took Jewel’s hand. “We need to go.”
“But where?”
“Anywhere but here. And no magic, or djinns.”
“So we are forced to live by your wits alone?” she asked, and I heard the mocking in her voice.
“My wits have gotten us this far,” I said, scanning the lush gardens. We were in the courtyard of a caravanserai, a roadside inn popular with passing caravans, and perhaps not so popular with traveling djinns; at least, not presently. I thought I heard voices coming from the east side of the garden. Indeed, there was a single portal—a pointed arched opening—that led to the streets and wide enough to give access to heavily laden beasts of burden. It was the only entrance into the open courtyard.
“Your wits and my breasts,” she snorted.
“We’ll talk about your breasts later,” I said, and pulled her along. The caravanserai was lined with smaller doors that would lead to the building’s many rooms.
I led the way across the brick yard, past stalls and niches and bays that would accommodate merchants and pack animals. We stepped around large piles of steaming camel dung and ducked into a doorway just as a troupe of armed guards stormed through the portal. The heavy wooden door was, mercifully, unbarred. I pushed it open and we eased inside just as the guards fanned out.
Inside, the room was absolutely stifling. It also smelled of hay and urine and dirty camel, a nauseating combination not uncommon for these parts.
“They’ll be looking for a man and a woman,” I said, going through the clothing in the room. Obviously, the renter was away at the moment, perhaps selling his wares in the market stalls that would be located just outside caravanserai.
I quickly went through the filthy, dust covered clothing, and selected some of the foulest and handed them to Jewel. She wrinkled her nose and turned her head away.
“They’re filthy!”
“We must look the part of road-weary, dust-covered travelers,” I said, grinning.
She snatched the clothing from my hand and put them over her own, as I did my own selection. I did not enjoy stealing from those less fortunate, even their filthy clothing, but our lives were more important. The best I could offer was a small prayer, blessing the traveling merchant’s wares, and wishing him a robust day of sales.
We both expertly wrapped turbans around our heads, and after tucking away some of Jewel’s stray strands, we eased out of the room and into a connecting hallway. Candles flickered and footsteps seemed to echo from everywhere. People were coming. Many people.
Soldiers, I thought grimly.
The hallway would wrap around the entire, perfectly square structure. Following it would be pointless. Eventually, we would run in to soldiers, and I wasn’t sure how well our disguises would hold up, filthy or otherwise.
There were, however, adjoining rooms, bigger rooms. Those set apart for the wealthiest of travelers. But these would not be left empty. In the least, these would be manned by servants.
Loud voices were coming from around a far corner, along with the sounds of running boots. What to do? Storm a wealthy merchant’s lavish quarters, or face a troop of soldiers?
It was times such as these that I realized how heavily I relied on Faddy. The ifrit could have pointed me to the safest room possible or perhaps find me another means of escape. As it was, I was on my own.
Now came the sounds of doors systematically o
pening and closing. The soldiers were checking all the rooms. I heard a woman scream, and a soldier grunt. He left her alone and I had an idea.
“Come,” I said to Jewel. “Back in the room.”
She did as she was told, although she frowned, clearly confused. Once in the room, I clicked shut the heavy door. I immediately began unbuckling the the belt that held up my trousers.
“Now get on your back and lift up your robe.”
“You’re mad!”
“Perhaps, but we are desperate. You must trust me.”
The sound of slamming doors drew closer, followed by the stomping of boots and the demands of soldiers. Jewel looked from the closed door, which would be yanked open at any minute, to a straw bed in the far corner of the room.
In the room next to ours, a door opened, and then slammed shut.
Jewel grimaced and then flung herself to the straw bed. I flung myself on top of her, with my trousers around my ankles. Boots stomped toward our shut door.
I worked my way between her strong but soft legs, pressing my flaccid member against a warmth greater than I had expected. I gasped, and so did Jewel.
And when the door slammed open with such force that it sent shockwaves through the stone floor and straw bed, I was pantomiming the motion of deep lovemaking. We were both mostly dressed in filthy traveling attire, and for all the world—especially to the two guards standing there watching us—we would have looked like a typical husband and wife finding some alone time after days and perhaps weeks of traveling.
Jewel screamed on cue and I grunted like a man lost in the throes of passion. One of the guards grinned and cocked his head and I saw a flash of whitish teeth.
“Carry on, good man,” he said, and the two soldiers left, shutting the door far gentler than I would have believed.
“You may get off me now,” said Jewel.
And I did, slowly. I hadn’t realized how deeply I was holding her in my arms. Surely my pantomime of lovemaking had been a convincing one to the soldiers. As I sat back, with her legs still spread open and her robe pushed up over her flat waist, I saw something shocking.
A mild erection.
Jewel had felt it and gave me a sly grin. “The king returns, after all,” she said, standing over me and straightening her robe. She held out her hand. “Now, let’s find this cheese merchant friend of yours.”