By the time he reached the ports along the northern sea, Amani had all but given up asking for Kun. It was as though the woman had never existed, which he knew couldn't be true.
Weary beyond belief, he took a room in an inn in Kasmirus that had an enormous skull mounted above a sign that proclaimed it was the Dragon's Head, for some famous dragonslayer had once slept there. And left the beast's head behind.
He claimed a table near the roaring fire in the crowded taproom, for the winter in those parts was biting cold at the best of times. He refused the ale and asked for some wine, but these northern barbarians had never heard of grapes, so their wine tasted more of raw spirit than the fruit it was brewed from. Perhaps they needed the liquid warmth, with the air so cold. He sipped it slowly, letting the stuff warm all the way down to his toes before calling for another.
A black-haired barmaid brought it, dumping his drink on the table before sitting across from him, unasked.
Amani waved her away. "I'm in no need of company tonight. Better sell your affections elsewhere."
She raised her head and met his eyes as she took a deep draught from his cup. "A slave cannot afford such things, anyway."
He laughed. "Your mind must be addled! Me, a slave? Take care, girl, for I am a lord with a castle back home."
"You are a slave, because I bound you, and only I can break the bond between you and the lamp. Who do you serve?" she demanded.
Amani met her gaze squarely. "Most times, I serve myself, but right now, I have the honour of doing a small favour for Princess Maram."
Surprise flickered in her eyes for a moment, so quickly Amani might have imagined it, but he knew he had not.
"What message do you bring from Her Highness?" she asked.
Amani took a careful sip of his drink, wiped his mouth, then said, "Not so much a message as a request. She wants to see her mother."
Mistress Kun smiled, for the girl could be no one else, though she looked a decade younger than Amani remembered her. "And she sent you. She always was a clever girl. Because no one wants to find Briska more than you do. Did her father give her the lamp, or did she find it on her own? Ah, it does not matter, not truly. The real question is: what are you willing to offer me for the information you want?"
For Briska? "Anything," Amani answered.
Thirty-Two
And that's how he'd ended up back in the desert, where this whole mess started. Well, perhaps not quite the same place, for Briska's bed was cold and empty, but now he stood at the blocked-off entrance to an underground city. A city with no people inside and, he discovered as he used magic to shift the enormous entrance stone, stale air that said no one had been there for some time.
For a moment, he feared that the treasure he sought would be long gone, but the glitter of gold beside the entrance caught his eye. Several statues were lined up along the wall, all life-sized. If anyone intended to steal something, these would be the first items he'd take, yet here they were, untouched.
With increasing hope in his step, Amani headed into the tunnel.
As he'd moved away from the city gates, the air had grown fresher, fed by the ventilation shafts in the ceiling that ran deep into the earth, but the dust on the ground had also become deeper, muffling his footsteps. A closer look revealed it was fine sand and not dust, undoubtedly carried down the air shafts by the swirling sandstorms outside.
Aside from the dust, the place had been left in a surprisingly orderly state, as though the city residents intended to return, but had been prevented from doing so. Bad air hadn't driven them out, the usual culprit in underground places, and the place hadn't been sacked, so…what else could it be?
He approached one of the numerous wells around the city, and peered in. He should have been greeted by the drip and rush of the underground aquifer, but all he heard was silence. Amani bit his lip and sent his magic questing after the water.
The well was dry, and so was the next, though the cavern where the water should have been was deep enough to hold more water than a city of this size could ever need. He followed the twisting cavern, carved by the ancient, underground river, until he found the natural stone dam that had once kept the enormous reservoir secure beneath the city. No more – the rock was cracked all the way across, and the water had followed its natural course, down to a natural depression where it leaped to the surface in a bubbling spring. A spring so new there were no trees around it yet, though a clump of tiny date palms huddled together in solidarity, proclaiming their intention of claiming this waterhole as their own.
He knew the waterhole – it was Philemon's folly. Which made this city…Tasnim. A city guarded by the djinn who served Aladdin. A djinn who had no liking for Amani.
Amani swore softly. If Kun had intended to humiliate him, she'd chosen her quest well. His lamp prison had been stored in the treasure rooms here for a time, at the command of another, younger and comelier enchantress than Kun. If Philemon had owned an enchanted object that negated all magic in its vicinity, rendering an enchanter like himself powerless, it would be in his deepest treasury, where Amani's lamp had been. For what better way to protect his other priceless treasures than with a powerful magic object?
After an hour of walking and still he hadn't reached the bottom of the tunnels, Amani waved his magical light source to a halt and summoned a waterskin to quench his thirst, for there was no other drinkable water in the city.
Finally, he arrived at the city's treasury, and a stone door heavier than the rest stood in his way. He used magic to shift it aside, then sent his magical ball of light inside first, as a matter of caution. If a magic-nullifying artefact lay inside, he would rather lose his light source than all of his powers at once.
Yet the light glowed serenely as it bobbed across the room, so Amani followed it. There was less dust on the floor here – fewer air shafts, most likely – but there were gold coins strewn around, as though someone had tried to take some with them and not cared if they dropped a few.
The scattered coins grew more numerous, the deeper he ventured into the treasury, until he reached a sort of altar, with an open chest before it. Whatever had once graced the altar was now gone, leaving only a circle in the dust to show it had ever existed.
Amani was willing to wager that whatever had sat there was the item he wanted. Without it, Kun would never tell him where to find Briska.
Then again, she hadn't known what it looked like, just what effect it had.
Amani took a moment to contemplate his options. Perhaps he could provide the courtesan with a magic dampening device after all.
Thirty-Three
Right. This time, he thought he had it.
Amani set the lamp down in the sand, then backed up against the outer wall, as far as he could get away from it while still in his castle compound.
If this worked, he could meet Kun before nightfall, and have Briska in his arms before morning.
If it didn't…
He sighed. If it didn't, then he would have to seek out some even more ancient scrolls in the hope that he'd find the spell he needed, for he'd scoured through every spell he had.
Amani took a deep breath, and bit his lip. A flame-trail flickered across the sand, headed for the lamp. It touched the wick, and the lamp flared to life, flames dancing a little in the breeze. At almost the same moment, the trail extinguished itself, leaving nothing but wispy smoke and a line of scorched sand to mark its passage.
So far, so good.
Amani conjured a ball of light, like the one he'd used to light his way in Tasnim. He lobbed the ball at the lamp.
The ball arced up, reaching the peak of its flight, before it began to fall. Then it winked out. Gone.
Amani measured the distance with his eyes. That had to be…twenty feet, at least. Hard to tell at that height.
He conjured another ball and sent it skimming along the sand. It vanished sooner than he expected. Not twenty feet at all – more like thirty.
So the spell had a radi
us thirty feet wide…but did it stretch up thirty feet, too? Amani used magic to scoop up some sand, then floated it to a point fifty feet above the lamp. Then, he let it sink, foot by foot, until it was just above thirty feet. So far, so good.
Another foot. Fine. Another. A third…
The sand dropped, and no spell he cast at it could touch it. He was powerless to do anything but watch as the sand buried the lamp, extinguishing it.
He sent a magical breeze toward the lamp to blow the sand away. It took some concentration to ensure he'd scoured away all the sand, leaving the lamp as shiny as it had looked when Maram handed it to him.
It looked nothing like the tarnished piece of trash it had been when he'd been trapped in it. If Amani himself scarcely recognised his prison, Kun would surely not know the difference. As long as it negated all magic within thirty feet of it, she would not care what it was.
He squinted at the sun. It was perhaps not too late to portal to the northern town where Kun had insisted they meet once he'd found what she wanted.
Just the thought of having Briska in his arms again…tonight, even…
Amani opened a portal, pausing only to conjure warm clothes for himself as he stepped from desert sands to deep snow.
Thirty-Four
Kasmirus was a tropical paradise compared to this place, Amani fumed as he tried to move closer to the fire without actually sitting in the flames. This inn's fire was larger than the one in the Dragon's Head, but the very air seemed to drink the warmth from it before it reached him. He'd downed two drinks, enough to stop him from shivering, but it did little to slow the creeping numbness in his fingers and toes. If Kun didn't turn up soon, he'd head home and return on the morrow. He had no intention of trying to sleep in this frozen nightmare of a place.
He signalled to the innkeeper for another drink. If Kun had not arrived by the time Amani had drained his cup, he would depart.
A cloaked figure came into the taproom, almost bent double under the weight of snow on her cloak. And it was a woman, so ancient-looking Amani wondered how she could still be alive. The innkeeper took her cloak with reverence, and the taproom fell silent.
Beneath her cloak, the crone wore a gown that was more suitable for the desert than a blizzard, yet she did not seem to feel the cold. She made her laborious way across the room to Amani's table. The nearest place to the fire.
He debated whether to offer his seat to the old woman, but she made up her mind before he did. She perched on the bench across from him and patted the table, indicating for the innkeeper to set her drink down.
Amani rose, then bowed. "I must beg your forgiveness, revered grandmother, but I am waiting for someone. I will move to another table."
"And what makes you think I'll let you?" The crone lifted her head, and Amani found himself staring into Kun's unwrinkled eyes. She pressed a finger to her lips. "I hope you brought what I asked for. If you've dragged me out into a blizzard to beg and make excuses, I will turn you into one of those squirrel things so prized for their fur hereabouts. Vair, I think they are called."
Amani had no idea what a squirrel was, but he did know he didn't wish to become one. "Mistress Kun." He ducked his head and returned to his seat. "I believe I've found the object you wanted."
He pulled the lamp from the pouch at his waist and set it on the table.
Kun squinted at it, then tapped it. "It looks like an ordinary lamp. Aren't you sleeping in its twin these days?" She cackled with laughter, sounding like a crone.
"I will not rest until I have found Briska," Amani snapped.
Kun grinned. "Is the compulsion to obey getting painful for you? So much for being a powerful sorcerer, when you're rendered useless by a little headache." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "And it will only get worse. If this isn't what I asked for, you will fail in your quest."
So she knew about the skull-splitting headaches djinn suffered when they resisted their masters. A malady he would suffer from no more, though she did not know that.
"You asked for a magical object that can dampen any magic around it. This lamp does precisely that – at a radius of thirty feet," Amani said.
Kun snorted. "Do I look like a fool to you? If this was anything more than a common lamp, you would see me as I truly am. None of this white hair." She waved her hand at the white tresses that crowned her youthful face.
"It needs to be lit," Amani said, conjuring a handful of flames. He held the flames to the lamp wick until the oil caught.
Kun gasped.
So did Amani.
Before him sat a teenage girl, wearing a short tunic so thin it was almost transparent, leaving none of her skeletal body to the imagination. The only ornament she still wore was a ring that sat loosely on her finger, giving off a red light that shimmered across her skin, as though setting the very blood in her veins aglow. Magic of some kind, he guessed.
"And I thought all those muscles were an illusion. No wonder you seduced the queen so easily," the girl snapped. Her eyes betrayed her – they belonged to no child. "You should show your true form to young Maram. She will keep you close to home, no tiresome quests, and make you serve her in the bedchamber instead. She is a gifted courtesan, as capable of giving pleasure as she is at receiving it. You will come to enjoy it, I am sure."
The very thought of lying with Maram – Briska's daughter, no less! – disgusted Amani, and he made no attempt to hide it.
"Enough," he said. "You have what you asked for. Now, tell me where she is."
Kun wagged an admonishing finger at him. "Oh no. You have not told me how to control this thing yet."
"When the lamp is lit, the spell is active. When you extinguish the flame…" Amani dipped his fingers in his drink, then used the dripping digits to pinch the wick out. "When the light is out, magic may be used again." He waved his hand and his torso was once again covered by a thick fur vest.
In the blink of an eye, Kun had changed, too. The poor peasant girl was gone, replaced by the curvy courtesan he'd once bedded. She pursed her lips, as if to beg for a kiss. "You must think me a fool, Amani. This is not the treasure I asked for, but a poor imitation you have conjured to trick me. Does the disgraced queen mean so little to you, that you won't even go on a simple quest to save her?"
"I would do anything for her!" Amani protested.
A wide, predatory smile showed too much of Kun's perfect teeth. "Pledge yourself to me. Become my bed slave, and when I decide you have atoned for trying to trick me, perhaps I will tell you where to find the woman. If you still want her, once you have had me." She fluttered her eyelashes. Once, long ago, the slight movement had fanned his desire into a raging blaze. Now, he could only see the starving child who'd been seated across from him only moments before.
"No. You have what you asked for, I swear it. Now tell me where she is!" Amani roared, rising to his feet.
People were staring, but Kun paid them no heed. She was a crone once more, even more frail-looking than before. She raised her hand to wave, the ring on her finger seeming to glow red in the firelight. "Farewell, sorcerer, and good luck finding your snow queen without my help. When you are ready to offer me what I want, then I will help you."
She marched across the room, pausing only to pull on her cloak, before sweeping out of the door into the whirling snow.
Amani swore, then called for another drink. He'd need it if he intended to go outside into the snow to cast a portal home. At least he still had…
He stared at the table, but the lamp was gone.
The bitch had distracted him, somehow, and stolen it, taking with her his only chance of finding Briska.
The innkeeper brought his drink. Amani drained it, then ordered another. He may as well drink himself senseless, for he was the biggest fool the world had ever seen. And poor Briska would pay the price for his stupidity, once again.
He deserved to lose her.
Thirty-Five
"How fares Zuleika, and her prince?"
Briska blinked
. Kun's face filled the mirror, and she'd asked a question. Haltingly, Briska begged her to repeat it.
When she had, Briska answered, "As well as to be expected. She is warming to him, and I think it will only be a matter of time before they give in to their mutual attraction."
"Good, good. You have done well. I have a reward for you."
This was unusual. "Thank you?" Briska ventured.
Kun continued, "You asked for my protection from magic while you are here in your citadel. At great personal cost, I have procured such a spell for you. Here." She held out a brass lamp, and Briska hurried to take it from her.
It wasn't until Briska's fingers touched the glass that she realised how silly she'd been. Spells passed through the mirror, but a solid object could not, surely. Yet her hands closed around metal, and she now held the lamp in her hands, while Kun's were empty.
"Once lit, the lamp will extinguish all magic around it. But when the lamp goes out, your protection goes with it, and you must light it again." Kun peered into the mirror. "If you place is within ten yards of the entrance to your palace, no one will be able to bring magic inside or cast a spell anywhere near you."
"But only when it is lit," Briska corrected. "Right now, it does nothing." She stared back at Kun. "I'd best keep it away from the mirror, then, for if the lamp removes magic, it will surely turn this back into an ordinary mirror."
Kun laughed. "I doubt it. The magic enchanting that mirror is more powerful than any living spellcaster could produce. The little lamp will not harm the mirror, or its magic. But the mirror is more than ten yards from your gates, so if you place the lamp at the entrance, you will have nothing to worry about."
"Yes, Mistress." The words that came out of Briska's mouth were the last thing she wanted to say. She had plenty to worry about, not least of which was this new, strange artefact that Kun was only giving her now. Did that mean the current couple she was trying to matchmake would attack her, and it would be worse than Hansel, Gretel, Gerda and Kai combined?
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