Your Wish Is His Command (3 page)

But Kal’s thesis had been about creating a
balance of power; he’d love to stick around and see how Faruq
planned to live up to
that
while keeping his dictatorship
running. After all, the High Master had chosen his vizier based on
that thesis, so the ruler was on board with it.

But Kal wasn’t sticking around. He’d committed
an unforgivable act; there was no way around it even if he had the
chance to plead his case with the High Master. From now on, he was
on his own.

He turned his head slowly. The flames weren’t
too close; he had some time to assess his situation before he’d
have to make a run for it.

The coast was clear to his left. They’d tossed
him on the top of a twenty-foot pile, so he had a decent view of
the surrounding desert, and without the light of the moon or stars,
no one—if they were watching—should be able to see him
move.

Unless the flames grew too big, in which case
they’d be the worst sort of backdrop for his silhouette.

And then the flames surged higher, their heat
singeing the tip of his nose.

Kharah
! He had to get out of here
now.

Tentatively, he inched to his left, not
wanting to think about what was squishing beneath his hand. Or his
arm. Or his back.

It took him a while to slither to the downward
slope, but once he did, he tucked his arms and his face against his
chest and let himself roll down the hill.

He landed at the bottom with a soft
oomph
and a cloud of sand in his nostrils. He fought back a
coughing fit and peered through the hair that had fallen over his
face. No one was running in his direction.

Pulling his knees slowly beneath him, Kal took
his time righting himself. So far so good.

He let out another breath, this time from
relief. He was going to make it. He didn’t know how he knew it; he
just did. Freedom was right around the corner.

And so was the
High Master
.

Kharah
.

“
I
knew
you were faking.
Jamilliah
, yes?” The High Master held out a vial that looked
like the one Iman had given him. “A very good selection and one
most wouldn’t suspect. But I knew you wouldn’t go willingly to your
death, Khaled.” He tucked the vial into the sash around his wide
belly. “But this does present me with a problem. You broke The
Code, you know. You must be punished and our law states that that
punishment is death.”

“
Actually, our Code also states
that the laws are subject to review by the High Master. You could
always repeal it.” Kal straightened his back. If he were going to
go down, he’d do it fighting.

“
Yes, you do know our laws well,
don’t you? Jurisprudence, wasn’t it?” The irony of an Arab using
Latin wasn’t lost on Kal, but he hadn’t aced his classes by study
alone. He’d always had a good handle on djinn nature and knew the
High Master wouldn’t be receptive to the joke.

“
So you’re expecting me to let you
go free after one of the biggest transgressions in our world, not
to mention faking your death to escape. Sorry, Khaled, but even if
I wanted to, I’d have a mutiny on my hands when word got
out.”

The High Master rocked back on the soles of
his
khussas
. Also blue. The guy did like blue. Some said it
was why the sky was blue, but that had more to do with light
reflecting off the water surface that covered most of the planet
than anything else. But it kept up the High Master’s mystique so
Kal had kept his mouth shut.

“
It would be a shame to lose so
talented a djinni. Your knowledge of our Code could come in handy,
and as for the strength of your magic, well, it is something for
other djinni to aspire to. And there has been a bit of an outcry
among the female population in Al-Jannah at your demise. I swear
the entire French Quarter is in mourning.”

At least
someone
missed him. Well,
quite a few
someones
and Kal couldn’t help but smile at
those
memories.

The High Master ran a hand over his chin.
“Still, I do need to maintain my power base. If I were to start
letting criminals off the hook, I’d undermine my own authority.” He
snapped his fingers.

Kal instinctively ducked. Each djinni had his
or her own way of doing magic, but he’d never figured out what the
High Master’s was. Part of that mystique the guy
cultivated.

The High Master clasped his hands and a wall
of fire shot up along the top of the garbage pile twenty feet above
them. “We’ll use the flames and say that Karma decreed that you
should survive their destruction, but you must still be held
accountable.”

Kal didn’t like where this was heading—which
was in the opposite direction from that freedom he’d wanted so
badly.

Unless…. Unless the High Master had other
plans for him? Unless maybe he’d realized what Faruq had done and
was now going to give him the job that should have rightfully
belonged to him in the first place?

“
I’m sorry, Khaled, but I can’t do
what you’re asking.”

Asking? Kal hadn’t asked anything.

“
In your thoughts. You were so
hopeful. I could hear it.”

Kal did a double take. The High Master could
read his thoughts
?

The High Master adjusted his sash. “Of course
I can. You didn’t think this job was all about luck, did you? There
are some talents one must have to be a successful High Master.
Thought-reading is one of them.”

He patted Kal’s arm. “Now, I know you’re
hoping I will absolve you of all your wrongdoing, but that isn’t
going to happen. I’ve come up with the fairest punishment I can
think of. I don’t want to break your spirit; our world needs more
men like you. But I also can’t disregard the Code, otherwise the
structure of our world would collapse. And we can’t have that.
There are times when the good of the masses is more important than
the good of one individual. And while I understand you’ll disagree
with me on this, well, I am the High Master and what I say
goes.”

Kal was about to argue when the man held up a
pudgy hand. “I suggest you don’t argue with me as I’m about to
impose your sentence. As you say, I can repeal the laws, and in
this instance, I will. It is not good for our culture to lose
powerful djinn just because they have decided they no longer want
to be part of our world. We cannot have disgruntled djinn wandering
around among mortals, but death is so final. Therefore, you will
have to want to come back into the fold. I believe being in Service
to a thousand and one masters will be just the thing to change your
mind.”

“
A… a thousand…”

“
And one.” The High Master nodded.
“You will grant each one of them one thousand and one wishes before
you can move on, and by the time you reach that last wish, you may
be more than willing to return to our world. Then we will not have
lost your power and knowledge, we will not have lost one of our
trained and talented Service members, and morale among our people
for carrying out a senseless execution will not fester.”

He brushed off his hands then conjured a glass
of something amber which he raised in Kal’s direction. “Yes, I do
believe that’s the solution. Sort of an eye-for-an-eye sort of
thing. Brilliant concept, that. You left The Service taking all
your magic with you; now you will return it tenfold. And you will
start,” the High Master rubbed his hands together and, all of a
sudden, there was Kal’s lantern.

So much for Iman’s hiding
place.

“
Oh, don’t blame Iman. She was
loyal to you to the end, but I
am
the High Master. There are
certain advantages to that and while knowing where every djinni’s
lantern is isn’t among them, the crystal tracking board is. I’ve
always known where it was, Khaled. That’s why I suspected you were
faking your death. Quite cleaver of you. I must commend
you.”

Kal didn’t know what to say. He wanted to cry,
actually. All that hard work for nothing.

“
Oh I wouldn’t say that.” The High
Master held out the lantern. “You’ve revealed a weakness in our
cuff system and caused a task force to be created to deal with the
issue. And now you will serve more masters than most djinn ever
will. A win/win for everyone.”

Everyone
, Kal thought as he was being
smoked into his newest prison,
but him
.

The Beginning…of the End

Kal’s lantern

656,624 days later

“
Nine hundred ninety-seven. Nine
hundred ninety-eight. Come on, Kal! You can do it!”

If Kal weren’t already in enough trouble with
the Djinn High Master, he’d wish laryngitis on his four-legged,
court-appointed watch dog—er, fox—just so he wouldn’t have to hear
that
number.

Unfortunately, that same High Master that had
handed down this prison sentence for attempting to leave The
Service had also banned him from fulfilling his own wishes, so hear
it he would.

“
Just three more, Kal. Let’s go!”
The euphemistically titled “magical assistance assistant” waved his
bushy tail like a pom-pom.

Nice of Dirham to include himself in the
let’s
part, but the fennec fox was thoroughly enjoying
himself bouncing on the mini-trampoline in the spout end of Kal’s
lantern, while Kal’s arms shook with the effort it took to force
his body upward one more time. Or maybe it was the energy he
repressed so he wouldn’t hurt Dirham’s feelings. Gods knew, not
being able to use his magic had built up a
lot
of repressed
energy.

“
That’s it, buddy. Two more. You
can do it!”

Kal rested his forehead on the cool polished
floor of his lantern for a second, then worked into push-up number
one thousand.

Dirham went wild, doing back flips that would
make any cheerleader weep with envy. “One more! You’re almost
there!”

That sentiment was the guiding premise of
Kal’s life at the moment.

Grunting through the pain, he finished off the
last push-up and got to his feet, twisted the pewter cuffs on his
wrists the High Master had “gifted” him with back into place, then
wiped the sweat off his face with a gym towel.

One thousand and one sit-ups done, one
thousand and one push-ups. He should probably go for the pull-ups,
but the stress of sitting here day after day, not knowing why
Monty, his current master, hadn’t summoned him in the last six
months was getting to him, both with worry and
anticipation.

One thousand and one.

That number followed him everywhere. Sit ups,
push-ups, pull-ups… And masters.

He was on number one thousand. So close to the
end, he could taste it.

Or
smell
it actually. Was that
fesenjān
?

Kal walked around the exercise equipment and
sniffed through the lantern’s spout. It
was
fesenjān
.
What was his master doing not sharing it? Monty might keep the
lantern—and therefore Kal—locked in a safe in his office when he
wasn’t around, but they often had dinner together in that office,
with Kal doing the cooking, of course. Well, conjuring. One of
Monty’s favorites was
fesenjān
.

And it was one more reason to
worry.

Dirham hopped into the tunnel of the lantern
spout, his paws sliding on the smooth copper finish. “Now for the
pull-ups.”

Kal picked him up and set him on the sit-up
bench on the Bowflex. “Not today, Dirt.”

“
Hey, I’m not dirty. I just took a
bath.”

Dirham might be a helpful little thing, but he
had a major deficit in the sense of humor department. Everything
was always so literal with him.

Take the time Kal had said he was so hungry he
could eat a camel. He’d had to spend hours cleaning up the floor
from the camel’s, er, “presents” until Dirham had shown up and led
the animal out through the magic portal in the handle.

This no-magic-for-personal-use thing
sucked.

“
You’re right, Dir. And your fur
looks great. Any special reason?” The fennec was in love with a
vixen named Lexy—hopelessly so because Dirham thought she was way
out of his league. Given that Lexy was the head of the thinktank
headquartered in the magical outpost of
Madeenat Al-saqf
Al-zojaajey
, otherwise known as
Izaaz
, Dir might have a
case. Kal kept trying to beef up his magical assistance assistant’s
confidence.

But when Dir toppled, slack-jawed, off the
weight bench at the question, Kal figured it was better to let
sleeping dogs, er, foxes, lie. No sense piling more pain on
Dirham’s bruised heart and fragile ego.

Kal headed to the mini fridge, chucking the
towel into the basket beside the sofa, then grabbed a V-8. He’d
have to do laundry soon, and since he couldn’t use his magic even
inside his own lantern, he was going to have to do it the mortal
way.

Luckily, the stainless stackable washer and
dryer had been magicked to contour to the curved wall, so he didn’t
have to send his clothes out. The genie laundry service always took
a while to get his stuff back. You’d think magical beings could zap
laundry to rights in an instant, but apparently there was a whole
lot of red tape to go through for demi-genies.