Melt

by Demelza Carlton

  But Amani would not give up. She lived – Maram would not lie to him about something so important. Unless the Sultan had lied to her, too…

  Fury built as Amani's spell swept around the globe, finding nothing but emptiness.

  Amani opened his eyes. Nothing could hide her from one of his search spells. Nothing. For who was more powerful than him? Only death could outmatch him. If death had taken Briska…

  Then the world was no longer a place he wished to live in, either. But first he would exact his revenge on the man who had driven his beloved to her death.

  Amani leapt to his feet, slashed open a portal, and strode through.

  Twenty-Eight

  Amani almost skidded on the tiles, he moved so fast, but he merely slowed to regain his balance before marching on. "Where is she?" he demanded.

  The Sultan had aged twenty years and swelled as round as the world he wanted to rule, but somewhere in there was the bastard Briska had married before he enslaved them both. So much for the virile young leader, hungry for power and wealth, who had thrown Amani's lamp into a well. Now he'd eaten so many perfumed jellies he'd turned into one.

  "Where is Briska?" Amani repeated, louder this time, as the quivering wreck of a man cringed away.

  "I don't know!" the Sultan shouted back, his eyes bulging. He opened his mouth again, undoubtedly to shout for his guards.

  Amani grinned. A wave of his hand slammed the doors shut, shrouding them in a bubble from which no sound could escape. "No one can hear us, and I will not leave until you tell me what you've done with her."

  The Sultan's mouth opened and closed, like a dying fish. Amani had a brilliant idea.

  "If you don't tell me where she is right now, I shall turn you into a fish, and I will sit here and watch you suffocate to death, drowning in air like you tried to drown me in that well." Amani seated himself on a bench and folded his arms.

  The Sultan blinked, his fear fading. "Amani?"

  Amani inclined his head. "The very same."

  "You haven't changed a bit. You look just as you did the day you betrayed me." The Sultan jumped to his feet. "And as your master, I command you to open the doors, and get out of my sight!"

  Amani grinned. "Ah, but didn't you hear? I am not a djinn any more. I have no master, for I am free, and my powers are greater than they have ever been. And it is you who betrayed her, for I know she begged you for a divorce so that she might marry me. You loved her money too much to release her, and look at all it has bought you!" He waved his hands at the palace walls, which he was happy to see were still inferior to Maram's mosaics.

  "My wise rule, and my trade agreements have won me this wealth. Not some wife's paltry dowry," the Sultan snapped.

  "You mean trade agreements won by the lovely Princess Maram, don't you? You whored Briska's daughter out to foreign princes while you sat here like a fat spider in his web, waiting for her to bring rich prizes to you!"

  "How dare you insult my daughter!" the Sultan roared.

  Amani flashed a mirthless smile. "I know the lovely princess well. You would have given her to that piece of carrion, Hasan. If not for me, she would not have lived long enough to marry her beloved Aladdin. I know everything she has endured, and you will pay for that, too. But first, you will tell me where you have hidden her mother, or I will make Hasan's fate seem like a paradise filled with houris."

  The Sultan paled. "I do not know!"

  "Tell me!"

  "I do not know!" the Sultan shouted. "Much like you, I could not bear to look upon her. The enchantress who bound her took Briska into her service."

  "Where?"

  "Somewhere far to the north, where it is cold and snow falls from the skies, or so she said. But that was years ago! She could be anywhere now!"

  An enchantress powerful enough to hide Briska from him? Not possible.

  "Who is this enchantress?" Amani demanded.

  "Mistress Kun, the courtesan."

  Amani burst out laughing. "The contortionist, you mean? Your left testicle has more magic than Mistress Kun. Why, every man at court has had her, one way or another. Tell me the truth, old man, or I'll set your hairy balls on fire."

  The Sultan glowered. "The woman may be free with her affections, but her magic was powerful enough to bind you, and Briska. Who do you think enslaved you to that tarnished lamp?"

  Common gossip in court had held that her youthful appearance and sexual prowess were through magical means, but then, most of the court considered owls and broken mirrors bad luck, too. They were a superstitious lot.

  "If this is true, then she may have more to answer for than you do." Including how a lowly courtesan had managed to hide her powers from him, Amani thought but didn't say. "Tell me where she is and I will let you live."

  "I don't know that, either. She left my court some time ago. Maram may know, for she trained with her, but I do not." The Sultan threw his arms up to shield himself. "Don't hurt me! I am telling you everything I know!"

  Which wasn't much, but it was something, at least. Amani narrowed his eyes. "Divorce her, and I will let you live."

  "I already have. Before she was bound as a djinn. Because it is not fitting for a sultan to be married to a slave." The Sultan sniffed.

  "And what of her dowry?" Amani asked.

  "Slaves cannot own property. I have it still."

  And he'd profited mightily from it, Amani didn't doubt. He lifted his chin. "See that you have it ready for her when I return. For I shall free her, and when I do, she will return to claim what is hers. Down to the smallest copper coin." He'd endured two decades of slavery because this man refused to divorce a wife who did not love him. A little payback was called for. "And if you think to withhold any of it, I will make sure you die an agonising death. After I tell Princess Maram's husband everything about her past." Not that there was much Aladdin did not know, but the Sultan wouldn't know that. He still believed Aladdin was a prince, after all.

  The Sultan paled. "None of this is Maram's fault. Leave her out of it."

  Amani grinned. "That's up to you, old man." He cast a portal, and departed.

  Twenty-Nine

  When he'd finished an evening meal lifted from the Sultan's kitchens on his way out of the palace, Amani sat in his own hall and attempted another search spell.

  He sent the spell north, questing wherever he found snow, not for the courtesan, but for Briska. But no matter how hard he looked, still he could not find her.

  So he turned his attention to the courtesan, Mistress Kun. A woman who'd managed to hide her magic from him, keep him from finding Briska and, the biggest insult of all, she'd bound him to that brass lamp.

  He paced the length of his hall and back again, sensing the spell seeking through the northern snow for the courtesan. It should not take so long. Why, he'd never taken more than a moment to find anyone, no matter where in the world they were. To take so long…to fail twice! Why, it was unheard of. Had his enslavement dulled his powers, perhaps?

  Amani broke off the search and stormed outside. From the courtyard, he could see the dry riverbed from which his castle drew its water in the wintertime. Winter was a while off yet, but there were autumn storms brewing in the Middle Sea that would suit his purposes perfectly. Finding a storm was harder than finding a person – if he could not even fill the water tanks at home, then his time tied to the lamp truly had weakened him.

  His magic slowed as it hit a patch of moist air, closer than he'd expected. Amani took a deep breath. Now all he had to do was summon a strong enough breeze to blow it over to that low pressure system and keep them together long enough for the storm to make landfall here instead of one of the countries further north.

  Holding the storm system together took most of his focus, and what he had left he pushed into steering the behemoth to where he wanted it. For hours, he battled the beast, or perhaps it was only moments – Amani did not know. But as the storm hit the wall of heat rising from the desert sands, Amani knew he had succeeded.
He eased back from the roiling mass of clouds, content to watch nature take its course as the clouds dropped their deluge before fleeing over the mountains in defeat.

  Rain filled the streams, turning every depression into a rivulet, tumbling headlong toward the river. Amani felt the water like blood rushing through his veins, spreading its cold fingers across the land. The desert bloomed and all manner of beasts surfaced from the sand to slake their thirst.

  But still Amani waited, for the flood had not yet reached his home.

  The river began to run, a trickle at first, before it became a steady stream. A distant roar heralded the rushing surge that swept all before it. Waves licked hungrily at the high walls of his castle, but the magic-reinforced stone kept it at bay. He waited for the first wash to take the silt and debris out to sea before he opened the aqueducts, allowing the cleaner water to flow through the pipework into his holding tanks.

  When he brought Briska here, to his home, she would have a better bathhouse than her daughter's. All he had to do was find her, or the courtesan who had stolen her away.

  No common courtesan would keep him from the woman he loved, Amani swore, as he sent out another searching spell, secure in the knowledge that his powers were stronger than ever.

  Thirty

  Amani stood on the road outside Maram's gates, wishing he did not have to be here. But he dared not portal into her home without an invitation, especially not when he intended to be even deeper in her debt before the day was out.

  A debt he would make that worthless courtesan pay, when he had her in his grasp.

  Amani had taken the time to bathe and dress appropriately for visiting a prince, as that's what everyone believed Aladdin to be, and Amani had no intention of changing that. He'd worked too hard to build Aladdin's reputation as a prince to destroy it now.

  The guards stopped him at the gate, but politely, as befit someone of his stature. "Your name and your business, master, so that we may announce your arrival to the prince."

  "I am the sorcerer, Lord Amani, and I wish to congratulate the prince and his new bride on their nuptials," Amani said smoothly. Now she was married, he could not visit Maram without her husband present. Never mind that she was an ex-courtesan and he'd lived alone with her for weeks without any impropriety…as though he'd do any such thing with Briska's daughter!

  One of the guards headed into the house, before returning to escort Amani inside.

  Maram rose to welcome him into her sitting room, where he'd spent many pleasant hours conversing with her while they were trapped on the savannah, but Aladdin stood by the wall, looking as awkward as ever in such fine surroundings. A good man and a merchant's son, but no prince. And yet, of all the masters Amani had been forced to serve, Aladdin was the only one he was willing to share a cup of wine with, without poisoning the contents.

  Aladdin ducked his head in a brief bow. "It is lovely to see you again so soon, Lord Amani. Forgive me, but I am on my way to see my mother, who I hope to persuade to take up residence here, at Maram's request. I'm sure my wife will entertain you in my absence." He moved to depart.

  "You're leaving us alone?" Amani blurted out. Did the boy not know what this would do to his wife's reputation?

  "We both know this palace belongs to Maram, and she is well able to entertain any visitor she pleases in her home," Aladdin said with a smile. He rubbed his thumb across a ring on his finger in a gesture that seemed completely unconscious, but Amani knew better, for he recognised the ring. The weak djinn who was bound to it was no match for Amani in most things, but his combination of invisibility and unusual physical strength still made him a formidable protector for Princess Maram. And an unseen chaperone, who would tell Aladdin everything that had passed between them in Aladdin's absence.

  Maram sighed. "He has no idea. I've never met a man who cared less for his reputation. Amani, if you'd be kind enough to help him travel to his mother's unseen…"

  Amani opened a portal, and gestured for Aladdin to enter. Aladdin departed, and Amani waited for the portal to close completely before he said, "He might be gone, but it was not my intention to keep any part of our discussion a secret from your husband. Perhaps another time…" He gritted his teeth. He didn't want to come back. He needed her help now.

  "I keep no secrets from Aladdin, but there are some things I think he does not wish to know," Maram said softly. "Like how to free djinn, for example." She beckoned a servant forward and accepted a cloth-wrapped parcel from the girl. Maram then held it out to Amani. "I had the lamp polished. It's not gold, but…I thought you might like to keep it. And…inside it, you will find something that may help you in your quest. Something…you will need, but that your pride will not allow you to ask for. There are other ways to free djinn, but they require several sorcerers working in cooperation and the results can be unpredictable. This way is better."

  Amani swallowed, then held his breath as he unwrapped the lamp and forced himself to lift the lid. The lamp was stuffed with what appeared to be a roll of fine linen, but inside the linen was a glass vial of some dark liquid. He held it up to the light, and his gut clenched as the liquid glowed red.

  "I cannot accept this." The words burst from him unbidden. This was royal blood, the same as that which ran in her father's veins and her own. With this, he could curse the Sultan's entire bloodline.

  "Then why did you come, if not for more of my blood to free her?" Maram's dark eyes, so much like her mother's, were wide with curiosity.

  "I cannot find her," he confessed. "She is a djinn, bound to serve whatever master holds her in thrall, just as I was. And she serves Mistress Kun, who I cannot find, either."

  Maram drew in a sharp breath. "Kun? The courtesan? No, she can only cast seduction magic, like me. The occasional small blessing or curse, like she did for Vardan. She couldn't possibly be powerful enough to hide from you. Why, Mother always said you were the most powerful sorcerer in the world!"

  Amani grunted. "I am, or I was. But there are some forms of magic I cannot perform, and cloaking, invisibility, is one of them. And she has done something that hides herself and your mother from me. Please…is there anything she said, in passing, perhaps, that might help me locate her, and maybe your mother, too?"

  Maram spread her arms wide. "She is a courtesan, the kind who travels for both business and pleasure. She could be anywhere in the world. The last place I saw her was Beacon Isle, before I met my husband. But if you wish to get a message to her…there is a city on a swamp, a republic, like the one in the ancient legends, with a port that is a favourite among crusaders. She keeps a palace on one of the islands in the floating city."

  "She's from a floating crusader city?" Even Amani didn't believe it.

  Maram smiled faintly. "No, she has a house there, is all. She was born in the Kunlun Mountains, far to the east, where the horse people war with the middle kingdom, and no one truly wins, or so she says. There are magical peach trees in the mountains where she was born, so powerful that one bite of the fruit can grant you immortality, or so it is said. What I do know is that I have known her for most of my life, and she has not aged a day. Perhaps immortality is possible, after all. The floating city…while I have not been there myself, I have heard many crusaders speak of it. It is no myth."

  "I have heard she is in the far north, where it snows."

  "Perhaps. Who can say? I last saw her at Beacon Isle, in the northern seas. There are tales of places further north where the ground is made of ice, ice that never melts." Maram laid a hand on Amani's wrist. "I do not know where Mistress Kun is, but if I were to go searching for her, I would go first to the floating palace and leave a message, telling her you wish to find her. For me. And you will take the lamp and the vial, because I ask only one thing of you: that you find my mother, free her, and bring her home to me."

  "Princess…"

  Maram clasped her hands before her. "If the most powerful sorcerer in the world cannot find her, then I fear she is lost forever. Please, Amani.
If you love her…if you ever loved her…"

  Amani dropped to one knee. "I have never loved any woman as I love Briska, and I will never love another. I will find her, and I shall free her, and I shall bring her here to show her the wonderful woman her daughter has become. This I swear."

  "Ah, men and their oaths. Actions speak louder than words, Amani. Go find her!"

  He rose, bowed, and left, with the lamp tucked firmly under his arm.

  Thirty-One

  Amani stayed in the floating city long enough to determine that it was indeed real, and built on poles thrust deep into the swamp. It smelled like the river at the end of the spring, too, when the water dried up and formed shallow, stagnant ponds that would make a man so sick he'd die if he drank from them.

  Kun the courtesan kept a house there, and Amani left a message with her servants, but they had no idea when she might return. He gathered it had been some time since they'd seen their mistress, and Amani didn't blame her. He never stayed home when it smelled like the river had died. Instead, he'd travelled during that part of the year, including the summer he'd paid a visit to the Sultan's court and first glimpsed Briska. The woman had mesmerised him with her eyes alone. Almost like magic, and yet it was not.

  Once he left the city, though, he found himself with two choices. Either he could follow the silk road east, or the crusaders' way north. He cared little for silk and less for horse people, whatever those might be, but he was curious to see what had inspired the religious zealots in their crusade, so he headed north, as it had been some time since he'd last seen snow.

  But every city he stopped at…no one had ever heard of a courtesan named Kun. The more prosperous cities had heard of Princess Maram, though, and they sang her praises. When he mentioned he was on a quest for her, doors opened as they never had before. A powerful sorcerer they looked upon with suspicion, but Princess Maram's envoy was beyond reproach.