by Emma Holly
Georgie was fine with that. She gritted her teeth to hold back cries of fear. The portal’s snakelike turns were a water slide from hell . . . one with no speed limit. Now that she knew they moved, closing her eyes increased her anxiety. She tried to watch every curve so she could prepare for it—a pointless exercise, since whatever magic ran the tunnel shunted them powerfully by itself. She tensed. Something flashed to their right and was gone.
Something white.
Something shaped like a person.
“Stop,” she said, the word hoarse with strain. “Stop. We have to go back. I think I saw someone. A woman. She might be in trouble.”
“Can we stop?” Connor asked.
“We can try,” Iksander said. “Turn around and see if flying works.”
It took the men’s combined will to buck the fierce current, a difficulty made greater by dragging her between them.
“There,” Connor panted. “Georgie’s right. Someone is clinging to the wall up there.”
The female was tall and slender and stark naked. Her straight long hair was silver and flapping like a flag. That and the alabaster hue of her skin explained why she’d caught Georgie’s eye. She’d dug her fingers underneath the scales on the wall, apparently to forestall being blown farther through the portal.
As they drew even with her, Iksander sucked in his breath sharply.
“Is that—?”
“No,” Connor said. “It looks like her, but it’s not really a person.”
Georgie didn’t understand what they meant until the woman slowly turned her head toward them. Once seen, her distinctive features were unforgettable.
“Luna,” Georgie said softly.
This wasn’t the likeness she was most familiar with. The guardian she’d grown up with bore the face of a human she’d possessed. This female’s striking visage belonged to Luna’s original form. Georgie had seen an illustration of it in a djinn children’s book.
On second thought, though, it wasn’t identical to that either. This woman’s eyes were entirely glacial blue—no pupils and no whites. Shiny and mechanical, they showed no spark of life. Connor was right. This wasn’t a real person.
“You’re not Luna,” she said to it. “You’re something Luna made.”
The being blinked spiky silver lashes. Maybe it couldn’t talk.
“It’s the embodiment of Luna’s curse,” Iksander said in a tone of discovery. “The one she used to petrify my city. She imbued it with so much death magic it must have developed a crude existence—like strong thought forms do sometimes. My God, what is it doing here?”
“It’s here because Luna died,” Connor said. “It’s supposed to be winging to your city, to end the curse Luna laid.”
That caused a race of startled thoughts inside Georgie’s head. She hadn’t known wishing Luna dead would break the curse. If she had known . . . Ending the empress’s suffering was a simpler choice than killing her to benefit others. Stunned, she glanced at Iksander’s smoke profile. No. He couldn’t have known this would happen. He’d have saved his people without delay—no matter how sharp his thirst for revenge against his wife’s killer.
“I didn’t know,” Iksander said, apparently reading her expression. “My friend Joseph had a theory killing her might help, but none of us knew for sure.”
“Iksander—”
The being could speak after all. At the sound of Iksander’s name, its shiny blood red lips parted. “Sultan Iksander is my enemy. His people deserve their bondage. I will not go. I will not end it. None of them should be free.”
Georgie shivered at its strange voice. Connor being Connor, he answered.
“You can’t prevent it,” he said. “Eventually the current will tear you from your handhold. You’ll reach the sultan’s land and disintegrate.”
The being clamped its jaw stubbornly. “I know my purpose. I will not go.”
Georgie decided she’d had enough of this.
“Pry its fingers off,” she said. “Break them if you have to.”
Iksander knew she meant for him to do it. Connor wouldn’t want to be that ruthless. Though the being was frightening, she’d have done it herself. The current that beat against them prevented her. Unable to fly, Georgie couldn’t let go of her companions.
“All right,” Iksander said. He shifted Georgie’s grip to his leg then extended his arms toward the not-quite-alive creature. It snarled at him, gnashing pointy teeth like a piranha. Fortunately, those teeth weren’t in biting range. Only its clench-knuckled, anchoring hands were close.
“It’s time,” Iksander said, almost as kindly as Connor. “Perhaps you and your maker will be together in the Beyond.”
The creature struggled desperately, but Iksander wrenched it loose. It ripped off, screamed in fury, and was speedily swept away.
“Well,” Iksander said as it disappeared in far pinpoint. His face was calm, considering what he’d just accomplished. He turned to her and his smoky mouth curved gently. “Perhaps we should be going too.”
Chapter Sixteen
EVIDENTLY, CLEARING Luna’s portal of the curse hastened its functioning. As soon as Iksander and Connor stopped flying against the current, they sped through the final distance in no time.
Sunshine smacked them in a brilliant wall as they burst out the other end.
Iksander stumbled and laughed at the same moment. He’d turned physical as they were spit out. His knees had hit grass. Their surroundings were warm and bright and—though he blinked blindly at the change in light—everything smelled like home. They’d made it. And they seemed to have landed exactly where he’d planned.
He turned to help Georgie up.
“Oh,” she said, peering around as she extended her hand to him. “Look at the people! Connor was right. Your city has woken up.”
He looked and tears sprang hotly to his eyes. His wonderful, vibrant citizens moved again. The portal had thrown him and his companions into a curve of flowering bushes not far from Victory Park’s center. Everywhere he looked, throngs converged toward the paved plaza. The djinn seemed fine, nearly untouched by trouble as they conversed and smiled. A gaggle of children darted through slower groups, shouting happily, playing a game of chase with each other.
That was so beautiful he had no choice but to cover his wet cheeks.
When Georgie hugged him, he buried his face in her soft red hair.
“You did it,” she said, holding him as tightly as he wished. “You broke the curse.”
“We broke it,” he said. “You and me and Connor.”
The angel embraced them both. That felt good, but Iksander soon straightened. He had matters to see to—discovering if his friends were here, for one. He dragged his scorched sleeve across his face, at which the angel grinned.
“I think everyone is heading toward that tent with the light blue flags.”
Iksander spied the smallish tent he’d gestured to, its flaps pulled back to form openings on opposite sides. The white silhouette of a rearing leopard, traditional symbol of Iksander’s family, emblazoned the pennants. Lines massed up to both the entrances.
“Listen up,” someone addressed the crowd. “If you want a shorter wait, two new stations have opened by the lotus pool and the rose garden. All the staffers are scroll-networked. No matter where you’re from in the city, you can obtain assistance at either.”
“We like this station,” a djinniya heckled good-naturedly from the line. “We want to hug the guardian.”
“Which guardian?” the staffer wisecracked back.
Iksander’s blood leaped beneath his skin. Arcadius was the Guardian of the Glorious City. Was he in that tent? There was only one of him. What did the djinni mean by “which?”
Georgie touched his shoulder, bringing his gaze to her.
“Go,” she said, her eyes bright with shared emotion. “See if your friends are here. Come get us when you’re ready.”
He couldn’t just leave like that. He kissed her first, then Connor�
�long and deep enough that both his lovers were flushed when he released them.
Probably, he was flushed himself. His heart skipped a little when Georgie and Connor reached for each other’s hands. Iksander must have been feeling better. The intensity of the link between them—and him—stirred a tantalizing mix of memory and anticipation for the future.
Not that he had time for that this minute.
“I’ll be back,” he promised and broke into a grin. “I can’t wait for my other friends to meet you.”
This was the simple truth, despite the complexities that were certain to arise.
Lacking patience to walk, he jogged toward the tent instead. His people didn’t recognize him as he passed. His trademark long golden hair was shorn, his ridiculous foreign outfit dirty and bedraggled.
“Young man!” an older matron chided, clearly concluding he was trying to cut in line.
“Pardon,” he replied, oddly tickled by the scold. “So sorry. Been in a fire.”
He slid into the second slot without more trouble.
As luck would have it, Arcadius manned the camp desk he’d queued in front of. Iksander had forgotten how giant his shoulders were. His dark-locked head was down, his brows drawn together in concentration above his nose. He wore worn military garb, casual but official—appropriate for reminding citizenry their protector was on the job. His large bronzed hand held a magic quill poised above a neatly squared stack of scrolls. His fingers, as ever, were surprisingly dexterous.
“Name,” he said without looking up.
This tickled Iksander too.
“I know I’m dressed like an idiot, but don’t you recognize your old friend?”
Arcadius’s head jolted up. “Iksander? Is it really you?”
He laughed at the other man’s amazement. “Yes. I made it back, though not as quickly as you, apparently.”
“You made it back.” Arcadius blinked rapidly. “Where have you been these long months? We waited and waited for you to answer our coded newspaper ad. We feared—” He cleared his throat. “We feared something terrible had happened. Oh. Forgive me, Your Majesty.”
Belatedly recalling to whom he was speaking, he jumped up and began to bow.
“Shh,” Iksander said. “None of that today.”
Because the male was still stunned, Iksander stepped around the desk and pulled him into his arms.
“Iksander,” Arcadius said, squeezing him tightly enough to crack a rib. “I’m so, so glad you’ve returned.”
Iksander clapped his back. “As am I, old friend.” He pushed back and smiled. “We have a lot to catch up on.”
For some reason, this observation caused his friend to grimace uncomfortably. “As to that, I should—”
Their exchange had drawn attention. The djinni at the desk behind Arcadius, the one handling the line at the second entrance, suddenly scraped back his chair and rose. As he turned, the hair on Iksander’s nape prickled. He was seeing double. The male whose astonished eyes he stared into looked like Arcadius too.
“Good Lord,” this second Arcadius exclaimed. “Your Majesty. You’ve returned.”
Did they have to be so surprised he’d survived? He shook his head to throw off his annoyance. Clearly, more important issues required his notice.
“There are two of you,” he said, stating the obvious.
“He was my statue self,” the Arcadius nearest him explained. “When I returned, our spirits were unable to recombine. Joseph theorizes my experience among the humans caused my character to diverge too much. Under the circumstances, we decided two individuals could share my duties as well as one. I go by ‘Cade’ now, if that makes matters easier.”
Iksander coughed out a flummoxed laugh.
“We are both whole people,” the statue Arcadius said. “Our spirits have . . . filled out from the attenuated portions they were before.”
“I see,” Iksander said, though he didn’t quite.
“If you wish to name only one of us as your guardian, of course you are welcome to.”
Iksander smiled at the stiffness with which this was offered. “You seem to have made a sensible decision. I only hope I don’t have to become accustomed to there being two of me.”
He was joking, but the Arcadiuses exchanged an uneasy look.
“We’re sure that won’t happen,” Arcadius said.
“Almost sure,” Cade qualified. “Your statue woke this morning, along with the second half of the populace.”
“The second half?” Iksander asked. Henri and Eleanor had behaved as if the entire city were petrified.
“The first woke when we smashed Luna’s statue. We had some trouble locating it. She replaced herself with an imposter so she could slip into the palace secretly. We finally found her stone form outside the treasure room, where you’d escaped through the portal. We assume she tried to speak to you one last time. Because she’d only left part of her energy in the statue, smashing it didn’t wake everyone.” Cade quirked a dark eyebrow. “I don’t suppose you know what the rest of her consciousness has been up to and how she was destroyed.”
“I do know, but it’s a long story.” Iksander scratched his temple. He’d been convinced he’d coded the door correctly, but he seemed to have mistimed a trip again. More had happened in the interval since leaving Luna’s city than he could make add up. But maybe his longing to see his friends bumped their arrival to when they could meet up. He scrunched his shoulders. Trying to sort this out was giving him a headache. He was here now, and they’d make the best of it. He returned to the question that troubled him. “Is something wrong with my statue self? Has its spirit portion been damaged?”
“We don’t believe so,” Arcadius said. “Joseph is keeping it company. It, um, refuses to leave the treasure room where we left it for safety. I suspect the percentage you left inside it was simply small.”
“You’re leaving something out of that explanation.”
“Your statue woke in a better state than our friend Philip’s. He must have left even less of his spirit behind. I hear from Murat that his double is comatose.”
Murat was Iksander’s vizier and Philip’s father.
“Philip’s projected self hasn’t returned from the human plane?”
Arcadius shook his head. “We haven’t heard from him since we four escaped. We’re concerned but holding onto hope. Joseph thinks if he were dead, his statue wouldn’t have transformed back to flesh.”
“All right,” Iksander said slowly. “You remind me I’m fortunate. I suppose I’ll see my double for myself and deal with what I find.” Because he hadn’t greeted the second Arcadius properly, he reached for the djinni’s hand. With only slight hesitation, the male accepted and returned his double clasp. “I’m glad you’re well, Arcadius, however many of you there are. I’m certain my heart has room for another dear old friend.”
The second Arcadius bowed formally. “Your Majesty. I speak for both of us when I say we’re grateful two of us can serve.”
The “Cade” Arcadius rolled his eyes, seeming to have more of a sense of humor than his double. “We are grateful. For many things.”
“You’re also busy,” Iksander said, observing a bit of restlessness in the waiting lines. “I presume you’re helping these people reconnect with friends and relatives.”
“Among other things. As you might imagine there were disruptions, what with half the populace walking around and the other half locked in stone. We’ve had to . . . adjust city services somewhat.”
Cade seemed to think his sultan might disapprove.
“Cade,” Iksander said, testing the new name. “I’m sure you haven’t changed so much that your decisions would horrify me.”
“We’ve taken over your rooms,” Arcadius blurted in confession, startling him.
“My rooms?”
“The royal suite. Cade and Elyse and I are sharing it. She’s a human Cade met in the human world. She helped us, and we’re both in love with her.”
�
�My God, you’re a blabbermouth,” Cade huffed. “You couldn’t let Iksander catch his breath before you burst out with that?”
“We’ve been sleeping in his bed. And she’s human. Some djinn have trouble accepting them.”
Iksander yielded to his urge to laugh. “Sorry. Not laughing at you, just the situation. You can decide how much trouble I have with humans after you hear my tale. In truth, you may decide I’ve one-upped you. —Later,” he added. “Your task here takes precedence. Why don’t I see to my business, and we’ll reconvene this evening over dinner—perhaps in your former chambers? If you’re not currently using them?”
“I’ll have someone make sure they’re in good order,” Cade promised. The tiniest flush of shyness washed up his chiseled face—not a standard look for him. “Your Majesty? If you’d like to meet our fiancée Elyse, she’s helping staff the tent by the lotus pool.”
That was interesting information. Not only had their Elyse been entrusted with a public job, but Cade thought her confident enough to handle meeting Iksander by herself.
“Bring her to the meal tonight,” he said. “I’d like to meet her after my breath is caught. As it happens, I have friends to introduce as well.”
His guardians’ eyes widened identically.
“I’ll reveal all tonight,” he pledged jokingly, to which the pair bowed respectfully.
He snorted in amusement as he walked off, back toward Connor and Georgie. His life had turned more peculiar, and more pleasing, than the wisest seer could have predicted.
GEORGIE WATCHED IKSANDER approach with a definite bounce to his long-legged stride. Gosh, he was handsome, even in his crazy King of Versailles outfit. His grin added even more appeal to his looks. His happiness warmed her like the abundant sunshine she was still adjusting to.
Connor’s sigh of contentment suggested he had the same response.
“You found your friends,” she said once Iksander was close enough.
“Two of them,” he confirmed, which for some reason made him laugh. He kissed her hand and patted Connor’s arm. “They’re too busy for introductions at the moment, but I’ve arranged for us all to break bread tonight. In the meantime, I have an errand I can’t avoid at the palace. I don’t know how long it will take. Do the two of you want to come with me?”