Tales of the Djinn: The Double (6 page)

Elyse didn’t understand. She looked up at Arcadius.

“When djinn transform to smoke, they no longer require food or warmth. They can remain disembodied indefinitely. The danger is that, after a time without taking physical form, they lose mental acuity. The bottle house’s magic protects them against degrading.”

“We wake them when we have better situations available,” the priest said. “Families who wish to adopt or employment capable of supporting them. Unfortunately, as you can see from some of the dates of entry on the tags, there aren’t enough good options.”

Elyse found herself blinking rapidly. Perhaps it was her culture that made her think so, but this seemed pretty horrible.

“I stacked the stone bottles over here,” the priest said, indicating another shelf to Arcadius. “I suppose we’re lucky. The sorceress’s curse turned no more than a third of our vessels to marble.”

Arcadius moved to examine the petrified amphora. His face showed little expression but his hands were gentle. “Tell me,” he said. “When you woke and took inventory, were some of your vessels gone?”

“How did you know?” the priest asked. “Unless you read the police report I filed?”

“We received a tip,” the commander said.

The priest bent behind a counter to lift out a thick ledger book. He opened it to a pair of facing pages near the back. “These are the two individuals I couldn’t account for. As you can see, we store portraits of everyone who stays here, along with brief biographies. These two were recent arrivals and still received visits from former companions. While it’s not our policy to release residents simply to socialize, street children sometimes form strong attachments to each other. They like to assure themselves their friends’ urns are here. The friends of these two noticed they were missing before I did.”

Arcadius made room for Elyse behind the counter to look at the pages too. Paintings of a teenage boy and girl accompanied the short records. The portraits were rougher than Balu’s but appeared to be good likenesses. The missing djinn were thin but attractive, with similar wide-eyed looks of hopefulness. The boy’s face was slightly older, with strong bones and a wide mouth. The girl’s waving golden hair and blue eyes reminded Elyse of a Renaissance angel. Her name was Celia. She couldn’t have been more than fifteen.

“I believe Celia and Patrizio were romantically involved,” their caretaker said. “They grew tired of scrabbling for survival and asked to be woken up together when their fortunes had a chance of improving.”

Elyse’s throat was tight. She couldn’t have asked more questions even if she’d known what would be helpful.

“No one else is gone?” Arcadius asked.

“No one,” the priest answered. “I checked very carefully as soon as the friends of these two left. I have their names and a general idea of the areas they wander, if that would be helpful. I don’t mean to press, but is there anything I should be doing for the bottles that turned to stone?”

“For the time being, please just keep them safe from damage. We have reason to believe everyone will recover once we’ve rooted out the rest of the power behind the curse.”

“Do you know how long that will take?”

“We don’t,” Arcadius admitted. “Rest assured, however, that every member of the sultan’s administration is devoting their minds and hearts to solving this problem. None of us will rest until all our people are restored.”

He spoke quietly but with passion. Clearly moved, the priest bowed respectfully to him.

~

The sun had set by the time they left the bottle shop, and Arcadius had much to digest. Elyse was quiet too, sitting in the carpet’s rear with her knees pulled up to her chest. As they headed to the palace, she watched the streets recede behind them without truly seeming to take note. She held her scarf wrapped close. The breeze that blew the edges of her curls was cool, and Arcadius hoped the air wasn’t chilling her. Their driver had activated the lamps on the carpet’s corners, but the safety precaution was uncalled-for. They weren’t passing other vehicles or even other people. Everyone who could had gone home as darkness fell.

That wasn’t usual. The Glorious City had an enjoyable nightlife.

It was some minutes before Arcadius noticed Elyse wiping wetness from her cheeks. She was crying. His heart tilted uneasily. He’d promised the other him he’d take care of her. Probably he ought to find out what was wrong.

He’d been standing, but he moved to sit beside her.

“Are you well?” he asked.

She wiped her face again. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get weepy. Those kids’ stories got to me.”

“Patrizio and Celia?”

“All the homeless kids. Your city is so rich. I didn’t expect to encounter poverty bad enough that people would resort to letting themselves be locked up in bottles.”

She was a woman, and women were often more tenderhearted than practical. Then again, Arcadius didn’t like the situation much himself.

“In the past,” he said, “we had sultans who gave every coin away. Still the poor remained with us and, inevitably, other leaders with better-paid armies overthrew those sultans. I suppose it is a commentary on djinn nature that our race seems not to respect self-effacing rulers.”

Elyse nodded. “I’m not sure it’s different in New York. We’re also a wealthy city, and we have plenty of poor there.”

An unexpected twinge of envy touched him. The other him had been to her world. If their spirits had recombined the way they were supposed to, Cade’s memories would have been his as well.

“Do you wish to do this again tomorrow?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind having me along.”

“Not at all,” he assured her, surprised to discover he was relieved. “You were helpful.”

“For a human, you mean.” Her little smile told him she was teasing.

“For anyone,” he said firmly.

The exchange pleased him for no good reason. He supposed she’d earned his respect today. She’d navigated unfamiliar waters without complaint. She’d experienced compassion but hadn’t let it hobble her. Her accounts of what she’d learned were thorough and no more distorted by sentiment than a man’s would have been. All in all, she was a competent assistant.

They parted ways in the palace’s grand reception hall. She looked at him, her face tilted upward to suit his height. Her lashes were dark as ink, her soft green eyes wide and innocent. Her pink lips were slightly parted, their cushy shape unnervingly appealing.

“Thank you for letting me help today,” she said.

He hadn’t planned to but he took her hand. It nestled small and smooth in his palm as he bent over it. Pressing his lips to her skin was more pleasurable than he was prepared for. Her fingers twitched. As he straightened, a noticeable tingle coursed down his spine.

“Thank
you
,” he responded.

His voice wasn’t quite normal. He could hear that himself. Seeming flustered, Elyse blushed and tugged her hand back from him. He watched her climb the ornate stairway toward the official offices, where his double was presumably still working. She lacked the tempting curves of a harem girl, but something about the muscles of her bottom and how they shifted beneath her tunic kept his gaze glued to them.

His stomach growled. They hadn’t stopped to eat all day. Should he have invited her to dinner? He pictured himself offering her succulent morsels from a platter. Her lips would close around his fingers. Perhaps she’d lick juice from them. Perhaps she’d hum with pleasure and close her eyes.

Perhaps she’d shift on her little bottom as she creamed with arousal.

A rush of heat to his groin warned him to stop imagining this. He was painfully erect, his cock thrusting urgently against his clothes. He wanted to debauch her in the nearest shadowy alcove, hard and deep and maybe more than once in quick succession.

Damn it,
he thought. The other him’s lust for her was rubbing off on him again.

~

The crowd in Cade’s anteroom was finally thinning out. He was deep in discussion with the Minister of Foreign Affairs when Joseph sent him a scroll message that Elyse had returned.

“Excuse me, minister,” he said with no remorse whatsoever. “We’ll continue this later. I need to take another report right now.”

The minister bowed and retreated. After a decent pause for discretion, Joseph brought Elyse in. Aware that Cade wouldn’t want to talk to him just then, the magician closed the door behind her.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Cade said.

Elyse smiled a little shyly and came to him. “Joseph said it would all right to interrupt.”

“More than all right.” He stretched in his chair and groaned as his vertebrae realigned. “God, I hate sitting like that all day.”

She perched on the edge of his desk facing him. “You look tired.” She stroked the hollows beneath his eyes with her thumbs. The touch was gentle and wonderful.

“That’s funny,” he joked. “I was thinking about you a minute ago, and it gave me a second wind.”

He caught her nearer leg, lifting and bending it so that her shin rested lengthwise along his groin. He hadn’t lied about her being in his thoughts—or about becoming aroused because of it.

“Hm,” she said, the swell of his erection pressing the embroidered silk of her trouser leg. “That
is
funny.”

Holding her calf wasn’t enough for him. He lifted her onto his lap, wrapped her slender waist in his arms, and kissed her thoroughly. This was the way a long day of work should end. She held him back, her breath coming faster with the kiss. Her head fell back as he trailed his mouth down her neck.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

Cade slid one hand up her front to squeeze a sharp-tipped breast. His cock was painfully hard, his whole being aching to take her. “Starving,” he growled at her.

“I meant for food.” She pushed weakly at his chest.

He tipped her back onto the desk, propped above her with his hips positioned between her lolling thighs. She bit her lip, her cheeks flushed inspiringly. Then, just as he began to tug down her silk trousers, her stomach growled noisily.

“Damn it,” he said, not knowing whether to cry or laugh. “Didn’t the other me feed you?”

“We were busy. If you let me call for a meal, I can bring you up to date on what we found out.”

“Fine.” He subsided back into his chair, his groin pounding annoyingly. Chances seemed good he looked sullen.

“You’ll have more energy once you’ve eaten,” she pointed out.

“Will I need it?” he asked, intrigued by that idea.

Elyse smiled at him.

Chapter Three

JOSEPH
the Magician—formerly Joseph the Eunuch—knew he shouldn’t resent Cade and Elyse’s happiness. They weren’t so wrapped in each other that they forgot the city needed them.

They’d simply forgotten him.

In sharing the challenges of their journey home, Joseph had come to consider Elyse a friend—his first female friend in life. He’d trusted her with his secret: that he’d unintentionally made his double a whole man. At the time, Elyse had reacted more understandingly than he could himself. By making his copy different, he’d jeopardized the chance that he and it would reunite. Considering this was necessary to restore his power to its former level, a power their city certainly could use, his mistake wasn’t trivial. Ever since he’d discovered it, he’d been afraid to think sexual thoughts.

They didn’t belong to the man he’d been.

He laid his hand on the outer door to his apartment. Though he served the commander closely, Arcadius had long ago granted his request not to reside in his house, allowing him to have separate rooms. Joseph liked privacy—creature comforts too. He had both here: his own bed, his own bath and sitting room, which he’d decorated to suit himself. This apartment was his island apart from the sea of life where other people swam. Here he didn’t worry that he’d never have a wife, that he’d grow old alone without anyone loving him. Here he read his books and he honed his craft. Here he was safe from feeling inferior.

Tonight, for once, he was reluctant to enter.

The palace corridor where he stood was dim. The majority of its residents had retired, though the working day had unavoidably been lengthened. Joseph forced his fingers to grasp his door’s flowery knob. It was no use. He couldn’t compel his hand to turn.

Well, fin
e, he thought. He had another task to accomplish, one he’d been putting off.

He could have sped to his destination in smoke form. Unfortunately, a confrontation with a human sorcerer in Elyse’s realm had jammed his ability to shift. Usually, djinn were spared being bossed around by the simple fact that humans rarely knew they had the potential to do spells. In this case, Joseph hadn’t been so lucky. The human, a tattooed gangster named Mario, had forced Joseph’s smoke into an oil lamp against his will, despite Joseph being the more skilled practitioner. Another human’s aid—Elyse’s—had been needed to free him.

For now, Joseph had to travel by other means. He signed out a personal flying carpet from the palace’s vehicle stores. The sleepy clerk didn’t challenge him. Everyone was aware of Joseph’s role as the commander’s aide. Joseph appreciated the deference this earned him. Djinn who knew he was a eunuch might whisper their pity behind his back. To his face, however, he was treated with respect.

The carpet he requisitioned was the size of a small prayer rug. Joseph flew it from the palace up the broad Avenue of Palms. The city seemed untouched from above. The red clay roofs were as picturesque as ever, the golden domes and spires gleaming fancifully beneath a quarter moon. When he landed on its topmost level, he had the Arch of Triumph to himself. Hidden within its structure was the nexus he and Cade had used to reach New York.

The door to the portal chamber was sealed with powerful spells. Because Joseph had set them in place himself, they were easy to undo.

The room inside reminded him of old subway stations in Elyse’s home. The walls were tiled, the architectural detail lovely but very cool. The floor and the few plain benches were marble and not cement. Nonetheless, this was not a place where humans or djinn would enjoy lingering.