The Candle Princess

by Raine Hughes

  Walt Doer had been feeding the livestock. Noah heard the dogs kicking up a fuss as he approached the barn. They practically bowled him over as he entered. He took overly long in reassuring them, using the time to assure himself that he had to look on the bright side: Jasmine would stay awhile yet—long enough for a ride on his ark.

  Then doubts hit him. What if she’d changed her mind? She’d been so enthusiastic at the prospect of sailing with him, but that had been back when she was feeling like a failed Djinni. She was no longer a failure. Would she stay for the first trip out or would she head home as soon as they found her magic urn in the spring?

  Not that the sailing of the ark couldn’t be handled by himself, he was sure. But confound it, he wanted Jasmine to share the excitement in seeing his dream come true. He wanted her to share more than that. Somehow he would ensure that her desire to sail with him on the ark wouldn’t wane. He didn’t want to lose her.

  Surely something would come up to ensure her stay.

  But, maybe nothing could stop the inevitable, especially if her people wanted her back now that she’d proved herself.

  Chapter 15

  Jasmine glanced at Noah’s abstract study of the food on his plate. Was he displeased with the meal? She thought not.

  Was he still enthusiastic to have her sail with him on the ark’s maiden voyage? He had been quiet on the subject of their future since the ferry’s successful transport. He had once asked if she would be staying long enough for first sailing, wondering if she would have to leave once she had her glass urn back. Perhaps he had it in mind that since she had performed the many tasks enabling the ferry to get to its destination, that her royal entitlement was no longer in danger. Did he think she was obligated to return home? Or, that she might have changed her mind about staying to sail with him?

  She could return home. She should.

  No! She wanted to remain, with Noah.

  But, could she stay without jeopardizing her place in Djinn society? Did her royal status really matter to her anymore? If she did remain, what would their future hold? She had her family, Djinn royalty, to consider and it was not something to take lightly.

  Nor was true love and she was deeply and truly in love with Noah D’Ark. Besides, she also had a human component in her makeup, which meant that her loyalties were divided naturally, though this trip out was the first time she had to face her dual ancestry.

  She was still thrashing the considerations about in her mind later as they lounged in front of the television set, watching the news. She was not sure how to broach the subject. Noah’s sudden alert attitude drew her attention to the screen.

  “And now we move over to our coverage of the overland voyage of Noah’s Ark.”

  The breaking of the cables at the beginning of the trip started the newsreel.

  “This is miraculous, news viewers! There’s just a single cable holding the ferry while the other cables are being reattached. Simply amazing!”

  The next thing they saw was the transport rig and ferry zoom down the steep and slippery incline to the bridge. The picture was snowy so that little except the bulk of the unit was identifiable.

  “I don’t believe it!” screamed the reporter holding the recorder, his voice coming through loud and clear. “I was just told there was less than an inch of clearance on that bridge, but look at it go! Wow, oh wow!”

  “Wow is right!” Noah chuckled, his hand searching the space beside him for Jasmine’s hand. His grip was strong as the focus switched to the end of the trip.

  “We’re at the final destination here at Mystery Lake. Oh no! Look at that!”

  Jasmine giggled at the newsman’s excitement as the truck tractor unit underneath the old ferry reared precariously onto its back wheels on the steep lake bank, leaving the cab and front wheels suspended. As the truck teetered mid-air, the ferry slithered off unharmed and the truck dropped back down onto the ground with a bounce. That was one mishap she hadn’t orchestrated.

  “Hooeee!” Noah cheered as television coverage flashed over the ferry as it tobogganed down the hillside to the lake, its passage made safe by the deep snow that cushioned it. “It looks even better on T.V. Look at that thing go!”

  “Go ark, go!” Jasmine fell against Noah in helpless laugher after she gave the cheer. Noah’s chuckle rumbled in his chest where she could feel it right into her own body, but there was no time for dwelling on the intimacy of the situation. They quieted to listen to an interview with an astonished neighbor.

  “I never thought he’d pull off transporting a ferry through the mountains and right onto our lake. I thought Noah was crazy when I first heard about it. Now I’ve changed my mind and I think a lot of other people have, too. Noah D’Ark is opening tourism up for everybody.”

  Another man was captured by the camera. “I’m going to seriously consider expanding my own business. Noah’s Ark will bring people interested in horseback riding along the trails of Mystery Lake. The views and the scenery are fabulous.”

  The newsman turned the microphone back to himself. “Seems like everyone will be jumping on the bandwagon now that the door of opportunity has been opened,” he concluded. “We’ll be here to give you live coverage of the first voyage of Noah’s Ark scheduled for the May long weekend holiday.”

  Noah sat back, stretched and ran his fingers through his hair. “I wonder if I’ve jumped the gun by giving them a date? But with your help…”

  “Dollar for your thoughts?” Jasmine prompted when he fell silent.

  “That’s a penny for your thoughts,” he corrected then nodded at the television set. “They didn’t see anything they shouldn’t have.”

  “I did well,” she acknowledged with pride in the role she had played. “I never botched a single thing, thanks to you for giving me Mouse Guy.” She held up the watch that was always affixed to her left wrist. “I can return to the mountain without fear. Father will be pleased at my reinstatement, probably be making arrangements for a new zawg, a husband, but—”

  “It’s been a long day,” Noah declared, leaping to his feet. “Think I’ll turn in. Good night.”

  His abrupt departure left Jasmine talking to an empty room. He had not let her explain that she already had set her sights on the mate of her choice. While he was not a Djinni, he most certainly was not a common mortal!

  She could not let him go without explaining. Galvanized into action, she pursued him with urgency. The telephone rang. With a moan she altered her course to answer it, recognizing Martha D’Ark’s cheerful voice.

  “Welcome back, dear. We just saw it. It was so exciting on television. It must have been marvelous being right there. I bet Noah…” she rambled on excitedly over the next few minutes. Finally Noah’s mother ran out of words on the subject and announced, “I’m bringing Chastity back right away. Put the tea on.”

  Jasmine looked upward at the ceiling as she gently replaced the receiver. Noah had every reason to be exhausted, so he was probably asleep by now. They would talk in the morning. Disappointed, she occupied herself with brewing a pot of shaye, grateful for the small task to occupy her. A few minutes later she greeted Martha and received a warm hug.

  “Herman decided not to come,” Martha said as Chastity jumped from her arms to be greeted by her canine friends, “said he’d wait until daylight and go have a look for himself. I’m so happy for Noah. I know how much he’s counting on making a go of this venture.” She peered around the room.

  Jasmine tipped her head to indicate Noah was up in his bedroom. “He was very tired. The worry exhausted him.” She indicated the ordered beverage waiting for them at the table and they took their seats, Chastity jumping into her lap immediately.

  Martha fixed Jasmine with a look that had Jasmine dropping her gaze to her hands clasped lightly over the kitten.

  “He was enthusiastic about the ark until a few years ago,” Martha reiterated. “I know Carol put a damper on the whole idea. He didn’t mention it much. Then, after the divorce,
he started talking again, in a half-hearted way. Know what I mean?”

  At Jasmine’s nod, Martha continued. “He was lacking a reason to go on, I think. Oh sure, he talked about it but he didn’t really seem enthused about getting things moving. Then you came along, Jasmine.” She leaned forward, placing a hand over top of Jasmine’s to give it a squeeze. “I know your belief in him and your willingness to go along with this project that everyone else dubbed as crazy, picked his spirits up again. You made all the difference, Jasmine.”

  Jasmine began stroking the kitten snuggled into her lap, without meeting the older woman’s gaze.

  “But why do I get the impression that there’s been some sort of anticlimax? You don’t seem your normal bubbly self, dear, or is it my imagination?”

  Jasmine could not think how to answer that. She doubted feigning weariness would work with her astute guest.

  “Before leaving to get the ferry, Noah mentioned that you might not be able to stay come spring, after all, Jasmine. He didn’t sound too happy about it. The two of you seem to get along so well.”

  Jasmine glanced at her friend, because that was what Noah’s mother had become. Martha had never once regarded her judgmentally though she must be aware of the gossip. She must have some thoughts on herself and Noah living in the same house, whether she was simply a houseguest or the gossip-claimed mail order bride. Was Martha hoping for a union?

  “Your son is a most wonderful man,” Jasmine began. “He is exciting and has great understanding, and he has much compassion. He has not found it easy to have me in his life. I think he has fallen in love with me, even though we had not planned this.”

  Martha raised a brow at what must seem to be a contradictory statement. Of course, she and everyone else had assumed that Noah had sent for a foreign bride but she must realize that neither Noah nor Jasmine had ever admitted that. Martha didn’t comment on the discrepancy. Instead she said, “I think he has, too, dear. I also think you love him. But, I sense there is some barrier that keeps you two apart. Can it be overcome?”

  Jasmine nibbled her lower lip, distressed that it was that obvious. “Perhaps,” she said with truthful uncertainty. “There are factors; the situation is a complex one. I am…” She halted, torn between the need to confide in this woman who was so much like her son, and the necessity of remaining silent on her true ancestry.

  Martha reached out and once more touched Jasmine’s hand. “Please know that you can talk to me, Jasmine. I have my son’s happiness at heart and yours, too. I like to see people happy and God knows Noah has not known much happiness these past few years. I think perhaps you have suffered similarly. I will be pleased to help you in any way you let me.”

  Jasmine nodded at the compassionate woman and tried to smile. She felt utterly miserable. “In my country, marriages are still arranged. I was betrothed while I was still a child, promised by our parents. I was not consulted. But, neither Prince Rasoul nor his parents were prepared to accept my faulty handling of certain tasks.”

  “You were going to marry a prince?” Martha squeaked.

  Jasmine winced at letting out more than she should have and rushed to say, “I did not desire him. He was cruel and demanding. My father was very upset. To have a daughter rejected by such a high-ranking suitor was to disgrace him as well.”

  Martha made no effort to question her and for that Jasmine was grateful.

  “I was not knowledgeable of certain customs that caused undignified reprimand of high-ranking masters… master figures,” she covered. “It was Noah that explained the misunderstandings to me.” She giggled, a nervous reaction to remembering the dismay and the shame over what happened while she served the presidential worker.

  “I am pleased that you’ve been forthright in sharing your difficulties with my son. Honesty is always the best policy,” Martha said. “I trust my son’s perspective on the matter.”

  Jasmine willed herself not to wince because of course she wasn’t being totally honest with Martha. “Noah said the incidents were not my fault and that the men did not realize this. Noah helped me see the amusement that I did not know at the time.”

  Martha nodded, obviously still trying to understand the situation without prying. “And this… situation… blacklisted you?”

  Jasmine nodded. “But I have been reinstated because of my excellent success of other tasks of significant challenge.” Raising her head high she added, “I still refuse to marry Prince Rasoul even if he should accept me.” She stood to help Martha into her coat, “Besides, I want to help Noah prepare the ark and sail on it. None of my people were involved with Noah’s Ark the first time.”

  Martha pulled up short, halfway through the act of stepping into her boots.

  Jasmine realized her mistake instantly and rushed to cover the blunder, “Well, at least I do not recall any stories passed down by my ancestors to say that they sailed on the original ark.”

  Martha laughed, obviously not taking the subject seriously. “I’m sure Noah would like to hear that, especially the part about you still being anxious to sail with him.” She gave Jasmine a hug and a squeeze. “I’ll come again when it’s not so late. Thank you for the tea, Jasmine.”

  Moments later, Jasmine watched the tail lights of the car disappear down the driveway and wondered how she would let Noah know that she had no intention of marrying any suitor her father might chose. She had already made her choice, in the way of free mortals. Noah had given her the right to make all sorts of choices; she intended to go on doing so, especially in regards to picking a husband!

  She stared easterly, thinking of the oppression of her people, or rather of the womenfolk. The Djinn were not so bound by constraints that were commonplace among the rest of the population, but still most were obliged to abide by the standard that saw men rule every part of living. She could no longer accept that. Whether she returned home or remained here, she would strive to be in command of her own life. This she learned from Noah D’Ark.

  * * *

  Before breakfast next morning, the telephone rang. Since Noah had just come in from doing the morning chores, he was closest to the instrument and answered it.

  “We’ve received an invitation to a party,” Noah informed her with some surprise. “It’s probably due to all the media attention we gained. We’re celebrities, of a sort.”

  “A party? Oh, what excitement!” Jasmine was immediately ecstatic and he couldn’t help feel his mood lift, too.

  “It’s Mystery Lake’s Annual Small Business Association party. We’ve been invited by Helga, the store clerk who sold you the Mouse Gal nightgown.” His face heated just remembering that particular day. “It’s a dress-for-business costume party. She, Helga that is, suggested we go as Mouse Guy and Gal, in keeping with the intent of the ark—a pair of every species, but—”

  “I have not thought of including mice on your ark,” Jasmine broke in, still bouncing in delight over the prospect of a party. “I do not like mice”—she shivered expressively—“but I suppose they should be included. Can we put them in a cage, please?”

  Noah let himself laugh at that. He was ecstatic for it sounded like Jasmine would be sailing with him, after all. “You’ll get no objections on that score,” he assured her and they went on discussing all the creatures that would accompany them on the ark.

  The time flew quickly.

  Now it was party time and Noah wasn’t quite so thrilled about it, not as he stood scowling at himself dressed up as Mouse Guy, in the appropriate red tee-shirt, black tuxedo and baggy pants. He surveyed the giant pointy-eared headgear that Jasmine had provided for him after he’d innocently told her about the specific hat ardent fans donned. “No way am I wearing this!”

  He swung around to face Jasmine. She looked fabulous in her Mouse Gal nightgown-come-costume dress. She was sporting a big red bow in her hair as did the cartoon character, and of course she had clunky red high heeled shoes. Her ruby and emerald choker necklace went perfectly with it and she had a
matching one on her wrist.

  “You look cute. I look ridiculous! You’ve done an admirable job of this costume, Jasmine, and I know Helga suggested we come as a pair of mice headed for the ark, but most of the people don’t dress up. In fact, I’ll bet the only ones that do will be Sven Pedersen in a wet suit—he’s a plumber, Myrtle from the Butterfly Boutique will wear the most exotic dress in the shop, and the feed store manager will have coveralls on—clean ones—but then he never wears anything else.”

  “But, Noah—”

  He shook his head firmly. “Please change this back to the way I was.”

  She obediently folded her arms and nodded his costume off.

  He looked down and discovered he wasn’t wearing anything except his faded long red underwear, not the original suit pants and dress shirt he had wanted to wear before Jasmine had talked him into the suggested Mouse outfit. He scowled at the grim-faced man in the mirror, more annoyed that his long-johns weren’t figure-enhancing and in better condition in light of present company. He could have been wearing his black fleece if he had known she might do something like this.

  Much as it chagrined him, he was actually pleased that she had reacted with a little mortal revenge. However, he couldn’t let her get away with her mutiny. “Jasmine!” he warned the mirror image behind him.

  “Yes?” She gave him an innocent look. However the twitch of her lips betrayed her. She was enjoying her willful mischief.

  “My suit, please.”

  Apparently not ready to concede defeat, she said, “We could go as a Captain and First Mate, just like we will be on the ark.” Without waiting for his approval, she took her stance and in a flash he was dressed in authentic whites, complete with Captain bars on his jacket and a Captain’s cap on his head.

  He laughed. There was just no holding her back, not when she was so excited. “I’ve created a monster, I think.” Then, as Jasmine cocked her head, he explained, “I’ve brought you a long way from obeying, to exercising your own rights and thoughts.”