Aladdin Relighted

by Piers Anthony

“Prince Zeyn sent me to investigate your appearance by the sacred grove. I was supposed to capture you and bring you to him for interrogation.”

  “What is Zeyn’s interest in me?”

  “You are likely the possessor of the Lamp that commands the Ifrit Iften, second in power only to Zeyn himself. If so, you are a key mortal man who will enable Zeyn to take control of the mortal kingdom as well as Djinnland.”

  “Ludicrous,” Jewel exclaimed.

  But it wasn’t ludicrous. The jinn prince evidently knew my identity as the former king who could return at any time to resume power. Now I knew why he had captured Lampry, or maybe Iften. It was to get control of me, put me back on the throne, and use me to work his will in the mortal realm.

  “Assuming this nonsense is true,” I said carefully, “Why does he think I would cooperate in betraying my own kingdom?”

  “Once you are spelled, your cooperation will be involuntary. If there were any doubt, he could simply torture your paramour here to force your compliance. If that did not suffice, he could cut off your manhood an excruciating sliver at a time. No one says no to Prince Zeyn.” He smiled a trifle bitterly. “Not for long, anyway.”

  Just so. “How did you sneak up on us unawares?”

  “I used the magic conduit from the castle to the sacred grove, then stepped out from behind the trees.”

  “This rope you have—what is it?”

  “It is a magic lariat, that my master acquired from a future far western land. It compels any person roped to obey the will of its possessor without resistance or evasion.”

  I nodded. That could be one useful rope.

  “Where is the Ifit Iften imprisoned? In the deepest dungeon?”

  “Not at all. Solidified mortals could readily reach that. He is in the topmost turret of the castle, where mortals can’t readily go, protected by all manner of traps.”

  “So how can Iften be rescued?”

  “That is beyond my expertise,” Morabec said.

  “You have no idea?”

  “I don’t think it can be done.”

  Aladdin was curious how far the rope would make its captive go. “If you were assigned to do it, how would you proceed?”

  “I would send in the lady to persuade Zeyn to let Iften go. But I doubt she could succeed.”

  That was probably a true assessment. Was their mission doomed?

  “What else do we need to know?” Jewel asked Morabec.

  “That your time is brief. Soon Zeyn will realize that I am taking too long, and will investigate. Then you will be doomed.”

  I looked at Jewel. “Do you want to give it up?”

  “No! My life is over if I do not save my son.”

  “Even though you risk sexual slavery if we continue?”

  She shook her head. “If Zeyn puts that loop on me, I will be his slave. I have felt its power. He surely has other ways. If he puts the loop on you, you will serve him loyally, and betray the mortal realm.” She took a breath. “I will risk it if you will.”

  It was one huge gamble. But not following up was probably almost as bad, because the jinn prince would track us down before we could escape Djinnland. “We’ll try it,” I said.

  “You have a plan?”

  “I have a plan,” I agreed, marshaling my lagging brain.

  “That’s a relief. I would have gutted our captive.”

  “Sometimes there are better uses for a man than gutting,” I said with the thought of a smile.

  She responded with her own thought of a smile. “Oh? I am surprised to learn that.”

  My cudgeled brain began to function. Desperation helped. “Morabec will take us in as captives.”

  She stared at me. “That’s your plan?”

  “All will not be quite as it appears,” I said. “The loop I wear will be a fake. Morabec will wear the real one, concealed. You of course will be bound by the threat to me, willing to do anything to spare me my fate.”

  “And what do we do when we are hauled before Zeyn?”

  “I haven’t worked out that detail yet.”

  “Well, work it out!”

  I drew her away from Morabec. “My suspicion circuit is working. This is too pat. I don’t fully trust that loop. It may work on mortals, but may not work on ifrits. If that is the case, Morabec will play along to get us into the castle, then betray us to his master. So when we get there, I want you to slip away while attention is on me, take the flying carpet and sail quietly up to the topmost turret, jam Lamprey into the Lamp, and take off for home. If you get in trouble, densify to the max and try to plow through to the exit.”

  She nodded. “I suspect similar. But what about you?”

  “I’ll manage one way or another. I can densify too.”

  “Allah smite you for a liar! Even so, how would I manage without you?”

  “You will have Lamprey. He obeys the holder of the Lamp. He will be all you need to rescue your son.”

  Her mouth worked for a moment before anything came out. “You—you are sacrificing yourself to enable me to escape and rescue my son?”

  “I am trying to enable you to complete your mission. I will take care of myself. Maybe my bluff will be effective, and I’ll escape Zeyn’s clutches. Meanwhile I’ll distract him so you can get the job done.”

  “I could distract him better.”

  “Surely so. But you need to be free to rescue your son.”

  “Why are you doing this, you idiot?

  “Because I’m an idiot, as you say.”

  “Not because you’re smitten with me?”

  “That too, maybe,” I agreed.

  She bit her lip, then decided. “We’ll try it. If it works, and I rescue my son, I will return for you.”

  “With luck you won’t need to. I’ll return on my own.”

  “With luck,” she repeated. “How much luck have you had in the past year?”

  “Not much. So I’m about due.”

  “You’re impossible.” Suddenly she kissed me. It was amazing how potent she was able to make such a brief experience. “I will make it worth it, for you, if I have the chance.”

  “Wrap the carpet about your body so it doesn’t show. Here is the Lamp.”

  She wrapped, and took. We were almost ready.

  We returned to the captive ifrit. Jewel examined the magic rope, then harvested some fibrous weeds and wove what appeared to be a similar rope. She fitted a loop of this around my waist. It looked authentic. Then she worked the genuine lariat loop under Morabec’s shirt so that it did not show. It seemed the ifrit might use illusion to enhance his appearance, but not for actual clothing; the shirt was real. We were ready.

  “Act as you normally would, with prisoners,” I told Morabec. “Take us to your leader.”

  “I must say, you have nerve,” the jinn said. “You’re doomed, but impressive in your folly.”

  We went to the copse, and found the magic conduit. Morabec spoke the words, and we were suddenly swept across the landscape to the distant fort.

  We were there. Now what?

  Chapter Eleven

  We were in a wide tunnel. Torches flickered on the stone walls, mounted in small nooks. Behind us was a massive iron gate, and before us, perhaps a hundred feet away, was a heavy wooden door. Standing to either side of the door were heavily armed guards. All were watching us closely.

  “You are to act naturally,” I commanded Morabec. “You are to act as if you really did capture us.”

  He nodded. “As you wish.”

  “Now, lead us as you would normally to your master, and do not give him any indication that things are not as they seem.”

  He nodded again. “As you wish. And you’re sinking.”

  So I was. The stone floor provided some support for my heavier mass, but not enough. It appeared that only true bedrock could support our bodies fully. Jewel and I adjusted our density levels to comfortably stand on the stone floor. Once done, the ifrit led us down the hall and to the guards.

>   “I have two prisoners for Lord Zeyn,” Morabec announced. I saw no indication of the ifrit doing anything other than his duty, but then again, I was wholly out of my element here. What did I know of magic and the ways of djinns? Not much, although certainly more than the average man, as I presently owned two. For all I knew, a silent message had been successfully passed from him to the guards. If so, I would surely find out soon enough.

  But one of the guards simply nodded and stepped aside. The heavy door swung silently open on its own volition. More magic, surely. What chance did we have? Non-magical beings in a land of magic, about to face perhaps the most magical being of them all?

  I didn’t know, but I wasn’t going down without a fight.

  Famous last words, I thought.

  Morabec entered first, leading me by the non-magical rope Jewel had fastened. I, of course, discreetly held the real magical lariat behind him. Whether the lariat did any good would be revealed soon enough, too. Jewel followed behind, gently holding on to the hem of my shirt. Even that slight touch was heavenly.

  I am no better than a young boy with a silly crush.

  We entered a grand throne room as befitted the wealthiest of kings. Apparently Zeyn was not only a great magician but a ruler, as well. Perhaps, then, this was nothing more than a heavily fortified palace. Indeed, ifrit guards lined the walls, all watching us, all heavily armed. We traversed the long room, crossing over a thick and ornate carpet.

  We approached a raised platform and a beautiful throne. The thing sitting on the throne, however, was anything but beautiful. The powerful ifrit, Zeyn I assumed, was a monster of a man, spilling out of the great chair that would have sat two comfortably. A massive crystal chandelier lit the entire room in a reddish glow. Flying above us were small creatures with long, scaly necks and tales. Small dragons, perhaps. These creatures were largely ignored by everyone in the room. I noticed the creatures were coming into and out of the room through a window high above.

  Zeyn was watching us closely. He was also sweating profusely. His red-eyed gaze settled on Jewel and he licked his thick lips. She stepped closer to me.

  Zeyn turned his gaze onto me and for the first time in a long time I felt real fear. The man—or djinn—was a monster.

  “You are afraid of me,” said Zeyn, licking his lips again. “I can sense fear.”

  I sensed he fed on fear. I sensed that fear, perhaps, served him quite well. Fear gave him added strength, fear enhanced his magical gifts. How I knew this, I didn’t know, but I always trusted such feelings. Trusting these feelings have served me well.

  I took in a lot of air and fought through my fear. I was King Aladdin, after all. I had ruled a mighty kingdom, and had done so quite well. I feared no man, or ifrit.

  Zeyn cocked his head slightly. “The fear is gone. Just like that. Curious, curious.” He looked at Jewel. “You have no fear, either. Just loathing for me. You would do well to fear me, my dear, because I am going to be your worst nightmare.”

  “You are a pig.”

  One corner of his wide mouth lifted and I assumed this was a grin. A half-hearted attempt if I had ever seen one. Zeyn turned his attention back to me. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, King Aladdin. It’s a shame it had to be under such regretful conditions.” He motioned toward the rope that allegedly bound me magically.

  Next to me, Jewel gasped. “King Aladdin? What is he talking about, Niddala?”

  Now the great magician threw back his mighty head and roared with laughter. Startled, the little dragons perched atop the chandelier took flight. They headed for the dark window above.

  “Niddala, is it? How simple, yet clever.” He looked at Jewel, who still stood behind me. “Ah, my dear, did you not know that you’ve been in the presence of the great King Aladdin, protector of the innocent and defenseless, a once mighty ruler who gave up his throne because fortune did not smile down upon him?”

  Jewel stepped back and took in a lot of air. I felt her eyes on me. But I did not take my own off the creature in front of me. If anything, I had learned to keep my eyes on my enemies. Never off. Perhaps at another time and place I would have been amused by her shock, but now was not the time.

  Zeyn continued, “But your loss is my gain, my lord. Your absence has left a void in the kingdom, and as such there are many who desire to rule your rich lands. Your puppet king substitute, what’s his name, Huran, has little power to suppress them. You can count me as one of those.”

  With Jewel’s eyes still on me, I spoke to the disgusting being in front of me. “What does an ifrit want with the lands of man?”

  He grinned at me, and this time both corners of his mouth lifted so high that his ears wiggled. He then looked at Jewel and his grin turned into pure, unabashed lust. He licked his lips again. “The answer, my lord, is obvious, isn’t it?”

  “To appease your lust?”

  “Men have fought for far less, as you well know.”

  Jewel found her voice. “You are not a man. You are something filthy and wretched.”

  “Something filthy and wretched that you will come to know quite well, my dear. How your husband gave you up, I do not know. Perhaps he was tired of your mouth.”

  He snapped his fat fingers and an ifrit appeared before us, materializing instantly. Zeyn was about to say something when Jewel spoke again, in shocked surprise.

  “You!” she hissed.

  The thin man, with hands folded before him and wearing a long colorful robe, smiled and bowed. “We meet again, Emira Jewel.”

  “Who is he?” I asked, stunned that she would know anyone in this kingdom.

  “It is because of him that I found you,” said Jewel.

  “I do not understand,” I said.

  “I was searching for help, asking around for someone who could be trusted, and this man appears as if from nowhere and gives me your name and how to find you.” She turned back to the ifrit who was smiling pleasantly at us. “But why?”

  “I will answer that, my soon to be play thing,” said Zeyn. “He did so on my command. You see, I needed to lure your king into my realm, as I have big plans for him. One way to do that was capture his djinn and let fate do the rest. And fate is such a good friend of mine these days.”

  “Why not just kidnap me?” I said. “Obviously you knew who I was and where to find me.”

  “Indeed, for you have the djinn’s lamp, and the djinn is deeply connected to it. With just a little prodding and perhaps a lot of torture, the djinn gave up his secrets and led us to you. Unfortunately, my strength is not nearly as powerful in your world as it is in mine, and so I could not overpower you.”

  “You are working with my ex-husband,” said Jewel.

  “He thinks he is working with me,” said Zeyn. “He is proving very valuable and nearly as wicked as I am.”

  “Then why did he send his men to stop us?” she demanded.

  “Ah, because your simple ex-husband is not privy to all of my plans, Emira Jewel. He thought you posed an actual threat, which couldn’t have been further from the truth. But I trusted our wily king here to get you here safely, and he did just that.”

  “So what now?” I asked. So far, the ifrit Morabec gave no indication that we had turned the tables on him. Perhaps the lasso did work on djinns after all.

  “Now the real fun begins,” said Zeyn.

  And as he motioned for his guards, I sprang forward, removing the dagger hidden inside my belt. Still holding the rope, I grabbed Morabec around the neck and held him fast.

  “Go, Jewel. Now!” I pointed to the dark window high above. “There, up there!” She needed little prodding. Within moments she had removed the magic carpet.

  “What is this?” bellowed Zeyn, rising to his trunk-like legs.

  “This,” I said, “is when the fun begins.”

  Chapter Twelve

  I stood there holding my knife to Morabec’s throat, though that was mostly for show; it was the lariat loop that really pacified him. We watched as Jewel
spread out the magic carpet, sat on it, and took off.

  “Catch her!” Prince Zeyn shouted.

  Guards converged on her, but Jewel, already airborne, sailed up out of their reach, barely eluding them. Barely was truly the word, because her skirt was flying up about her waist as the air caught it, exposing her lifted knees and thighs. Her shirt had somehow fallen open again, too, providing flashes of her breasts. That was when I realized that none of that exposure was accidental. She wanted all eyes to be locked on her instead of on me. She was giving me my best chance to solidify and escape.

  The guards virtually froze in place, staring up at the parts of her that showed beyond the edges of the carpet. Even Zeyn was silent a moment, taking in that glorious scene. Jewel’s thighs flexed as her feet braced against the carpet, and her breasts shook with every dip and swoop as she spiraled ever higher. Her hair was loose and whipping about her head like a living thing. She certainly knew how to hold male attention.

  Meanwhile I worked the loop off Morabec, one-handed. It was complicated, because we had concealed it under his clothing.

  Zeyn finally shook off his stasis. “Shoot her down, idiots!” he bawled.

  Several archers lifted their bows, nocked arrows, and reluctantly aimed. It was evident they did not want to kill such a gorgeous creature.

  “She won’t be any good to you as a hostage or sex slave if you kill her!” I cried.

  “That’s right,” Zeyn said. “Put the trackers on her while we fetch carpets.”

  Trackers? What were they?

  Meanwhile Jewel passed the chandelier, reached the ceiling and flew toward the high window the little dragons used. They oriented on her, but she waved a knife and that seemed to cow them.

  Then a picture formed in the center of the chamber, below Jewel. It showed her on the carpet, her evocative parts flashing, but not as seen from below. It was as if the beholder was right up there beside her.

  The dragons! This was what they were seeing. Somehow they could broadcast it as a three dimensional picture the rest of us could see. They were the trackers, the spy eyes. Many eyes, gazing from all around, so that every detail could be covered. One was evidently flying in front of her, looking back, seeing right up between her lifted legs.