“And you know the sirens? How is this, if you reside in Djinnland and they reside in the mortal realm?”
We have portals to other realms we can use. Like the one between your realm and this one, that Zeyn forced me to use. So we associate with the sirens, with whom we get along well.
We do, Sylvie agreed.
Aha. “So you could connect us to our ship?”
It is not that easy. We don’t make portals, we use them. Zeyn made the one he fastened me to. And while the portals may be safe for us to use, that would not be true for mortals. There are nasty beasties along the way.
I had had some experience with the type. Still, it started devious plans stirring in my brain. “Is there a portal to Hades?”
There is, but Aladdin, beloved, you must not venture near that one! There is no return!
Precisely. “And can you emulate a man?”
Both ring maidens were shocked. Aladdin, your passion is not for a man! Sylvie protested.
“Indeed not,” I agreed. “But could you?”
If a man truly desired another man, we could reflect that, Nydea agreed reluctantly. At least our queen Nylon could. She has better control over our nature, and more, um guts. She was a nice girl and did not like to use the crude term.
“Zeyn’s passion right now is Duban. He wants to capture and kill him. Could you emulate Duban when Zeyn pounces?”
I think so. But such a deception could not fool Zeyn long.
“And could your emulation of Duban stand astride the portal to Hades?”
Aladdin, you are frightening us, Sylvie thought.
But it is a good fright, Nydea thought.
“I want to send Zeyn to Hades. Then all the rest will become academic.”
Academic, Sylvie thought. You must have attended some academy!
Now we came to a broad passage underground, leading to a shimmering portal. My beloved Rosebud stood guard there, with truly shapely legs. “Who are you?” she demanded as we emerged into that passage.
I removed the Nydea ring. She reformed. Now there were two Rosebuds. “Queen Nylon! He is Aladdin!” she said. “He and his friends are here as refugees from Zeyn!”
“So that’s what stirred up that evil ifrit! Of course we’ll succor them.” It seemed the queen was nice too.
More nymphs appeared. One took Duban’s hand, and I knew she looked to him just like Myrrh. Nydea took Sinbad’s hand, and she was his beloved wife. And Queen Rosebud, I mean Nylon, took mine. Her hand felt exactly like that of my lost beloved.
Speechless, we passed though the portal and entered the Refuge.
Chapter Twenty
We were in what appeared to be the inside of a great mountain.
Surrounding us on all sides were great, sloping cliffs that came together high above. Glowing lanterns hovered in the sky, illuminating the interior.
We followed a path from the portal, down a rocky trail, and through dense jungle. Like green snakes, curious vines dropped down from branches around us. Some vines curled playfully around our arms and wrists. Although playful now, I suspected these vines could just as easily strangle or trip or even tear apart a man.
Nylon saw my amazement as one such vine playfully caressed my cheek. “Yes, our land is alive in every sense of the word. Here we call it The Refuge, but in the mortal realms, it is sometime referred to as Eden, for you are not the first humans to visit.”
Sylvie, who was still on my finger, giggled as one such vine entwined through my fingers...and around her.
We continued through the forest, which parted before our large party, and then just as quickly closed behind us. Soon the dense foliage opened up to a grassy clearing, where there were many simple wooden structures. Beautiful nymphs were everywhere, tending gardens, bathing nude in steaming pools, or coming and going from the huts. I realized, with some fascination and concern, that all of them resembled my departed wife. No doubt they all resembled Sinbad’s missing wife and Duban’s first love, too.
Once in the village, Nydea led Sinbad off to a hut, and the sailor willingly followed. I was about to call after them when the village leader stopped them. “Leave them be, Aladdin.”
“Where is she taking him?”
“To mate with him.”
I think my jaw dropped open. “But he is a married man!” I protested.
“No,” said Queen Nylon. “He’s not.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Come, then let me explain.”
She led me to an official-looking building, bigger than the others and made of stone. A central fire blazed inside and everywhere there were beautiful replicas of my Rosebud.
We sat next to the fire, on cushions made of straw and hides. Immediately food appeared by other nymphs, all of them identical to my lost wife. And array of meats and vegetables were offered to us. Now this felt more like home, where I, as king, was waited on hand and foot.
“So explain,” I said to the nymph queen. “But first, is there a way to turn your magic off, so that you don’t all look like my beloved?”
She shook her sadly. “We have little direct control over how you view us.”
“Fine,” I said, tearing meat off a leg bone of what I assumed was something of the size and shape of a chicken. Duban ate hungrily next to me.
“Sinbad’s wife was killed not too long ago, attempting to escape Prince Zeyn.”
My heart sank for my friend. “You speak the truth?”
The Queen looked stricken by my question. Sylvie came to my rescue, squeezing my finger gently. She cannot lie, my king. She has been created to please man, and lying would never please a man.
I understood.
“Nydea was captured once Sinbad’s wife was killed. We believe accidentally, but with Zeyn one never knows. His evil knows no limit.”
I nodded, catching on. “So Nydea, being enchanted, would appear to be his wife,” I said, tossing aside the greasy bone. A fiery creature, shaped vaguely like a dog, appeared from the flames, snatched the bone in mid-air, and returned to the pit, where creature and bone disappeared. I stared briefly in disbelief.
The queen nodded sadly. “A magical replacement. Nydea was no doubt treated terribly, subjected to all sorts of torture and rape, only to be used as a pawn for the evil djinn.” The queen absently reached out toward the fire, and the hellhound’s head appeared from the flames. She scratched between its fiery ears with no ill effects. Nymphs, of course, were immortal, and apparently fire did not harm them. She went on, “And all Nydea wanted to do was look for a mate. Do you see where I’m going with this, Aladdin?”
I cudgeled my balky brain but, alas, her words were lost on me.
“Think, father,” said Duban, shaking his head pathetically at his old man. “Sinbad lost his wife and Nydea was looking for a husband...”
I slapped my own forehead. “By Allah, it’s a devious plan!”
“Is it?” asked Queen Nylon. “Now Sinbad will never, ever lose his wife, who will age gracefully with him, who will absorb all of his own memories of his wife, who will naturally take on the mannerisms, memory and personality of his wife. In every way, she will become his lost wife and she will never be happier. Sinbad, too, will never be happier. For remember, nymphs are created to please their man in every way imaginable.”
I nearly covered Duban’s ears, but already the boy had lost interest. Instead, he was playing with the hellhound, which was making me nervous. But Duban, although not quite as powerful in Djinnland as he was in the mortal realm, seemed to have created a spell to protect his hands. A fiery tail wagged happily.
“So there is no harm, and Sinbad will never know the difference. Nydea will have her dream to mate with a mortal, and Sinbad will have the love of his life.”
Sylvie squeezed my finger. Unless you prefer to tell Sinbad that his real wife was killed by the prince and crush him for the rest of his mortal life.
I saw the benefit of not telling, and I even saw the tragic beauty of the plan. It
was obvious how much the sailor loved his wife. And seeing Rosebud now conjured feelings in me that had long since lain dormant. But I had the benefit of knowing that the queen and her court were illusions.
I nodded. “I shall keep the secret, as will Duban.”
The queen looked greatly relieved. “I think it is best, too. In time, her magical charm will wear off, and others, too, will see her only as Sinbad’s wife.”
“There is only, then, the matter of dealing with Prince Zeyn.”
“A dangerous task,” said the queen, “and one that many here in Djinnland have set out to do, but to only fail. Many bodies line his castle walls, where he displays the corpses for all Djinnland to see.”
Next drinks were served and I quite enjoyed the spicy punch. Duban ran off to play in the woods with another nymph, whom I was assured would act appropriately for a child his age.
Nydea next arrived without Sinbad who, she claimed, was sleeping contentedly. With her hair askew, I had no doubt the exhausted sailor was sleeping deeply, completely spent and exhausted. That Nydea looked like Rosebud should have triggered feelings of jealously, but already I was getting used to the notion of the nymphs appearing to be my first true love.
With Duban playing in the woods and Nydea swimming in a natural pool with other naked nymphs, Queen Nylon sat a little closer to me and rested her hand on my thigh. “But you are safe here, King Aladdin, for as long as you wish to stay. Do you not find me satisfying?”
“You are an illusion. Truth be known, I have no clue what you look like.”
“Oh, on our own we are natural beauties, my king. Our flesh is soft and our hips are curved and our breasts are wonders to behold.”
I swallowed hard and slipped from under her arm. “True, you do look like my first love. But I have another love. A second great love, and she is not you, and you will never be her.”
“Oh?”
And suddenly Rosebud seemed to undulate, as if under water, and the Queen who once appeared to be Rosebud now looked exactly like Jewel. “I’m not the queen for nothing, Aladdin. Unlike my maidens, I can take on other forms as I see fit.”
I swallowed hard. Jewel now stood before me. Or the illusion of Jewel. My wife was a stunningly beautiful woman. The queen now dropped her robe and Jewel was standing before me completely naked, her round breasts reflecting the central fire.
I had been away at sea for a long, long time.
My body reacted instantly to the naked nymph who looked like my present wife. Who appeared exactly like my beloved wife.
“I see I got your attention, King Aladdin.”
And now the Queen Nylon reached over and cupped me gently. I had just reached for her hand to push her away, when she lowered her soft mouth onto mine. And despite myself, despite the knowledge that I was kissing an illusion, I reacted passionately, loving, excitedly to the naked woman who now wrapped herself around me in the most loving embrace I had ever experienced.
And that’s when I heard a gasp from a doorway, and it took all my will power to tear my lips away from Jewel’s—or Queen Nylon. Standing there, face twisted with jealousy and a sword in his hand, was Sinbad.
The sailor charged me, growling with fury.
Chapter Twenty-one
Nylon glanced at the enraged sailor without alarm. “I will handle this,” she murmured. “Keep your gaze on me, not on him; do not waver.” I was so badly out of sorts that I froze in place, not wanting either to fight my friend or disabuse him of the status of his wife. It was not easy to keep looking at my simulated wife when we were being attacked, but I managed it.
As Sinbad came up to us, scimitar swinging, Nylon smiled at him. I watched peripherally, nervously. “What can I do for you, my good man?”
And I believe Sinbad’s mouth dropped open as his sword lowered. “I—I thought you were someone else. My apology.”
“Obviously,” Nylon agreed. “We Nubile Nymphs do tend to get mistaken for others. But as you can see, I am not your love, who would never betray you with another man. You know that, don’t you? You will find her back where she was.”
“Yes.” Sinbad backed off, then turned and strode rapidly away, obviously embarrassed. Now I was free to look directly. I saw a Nymph hurrying to intercept him; Nydea must have misjudged how long he would sleep. She surely would not do that again.
“What did you do?” I asked.
“I showed him Jewel, as I am showing you. When two men gaze at me simultaneously, I can choose whose beloved to emulate. As I said, I am not Queen for nothing.”
“That’s why you told me to keep looking at you,” I said, belatedly catching on. “Had I looked away—”
“I would have been helpless to avoid the aspect of his beloved. Then it might have become complicated.”
Complicated indeed! I would have had to fight my friend, and though I was satisfied I could best him at swords, I did not want to do that. Neither did I want to kill him or allow him to kill me. Queen Nylon had spared me that dreadful choice. I shook my head, bemused. “You are some woman!”
“Indeed. Shall we resume where we left off?”
But the interruption had restored some of my senses to me. “No. You look like Jewel, but I know you are not. I know she is alive. It would be cheating to make out with you.”
“Ah, but you are royal. Surely you have concubines. They are not considered cheating.”
“You are no concubine!”
She shrugged. “I will take that as a compliment. A concubine is a lesser creature, there purely for your passing pleasure. I am a queen, a person of stature, so you can not be casual with me. Still, if you should change your mind, I remain interested. It is of course my nature to be interested, and I have not encountered a man of your caliber in some time.”
“Thank you,” I said awkwardly. I did remain interested; that was the problem. Her beauty, her power, and her flattery were all too conducive. So I changed the subject. “I have not encountered your name before. What is its origin?”
She smiled, relaxing. Unfortunately that was just as sexy as when she was coming on to me, maybe by no accident. She was a creature in search of mortal love, however rational her manner. She probably had not given up on me.
You bet, Sylvie thought. Never trust a woman.
Should I trust you?
Of course not! she thought indignantly. I believe I have a prior application for seducing you, and will do so when the occasion permits.
I shook my head, uncertain how to respond to that.
“If you are quite through conversing with your captive Siren,” Nylon said, “I will answer your question.”
I’m not captive!
She’s teasing you.
“Of course I am,” Nylon agreed. “We cousin-species Nymphs have a certain competitive camaraderie. As you know, we are immortal, and desire above all else to become mortal, normally by marrying a mortal and acquiring part of his soul.”
“And that’s another question,” I said. “Why would anyone sacrifice immortality?”
“Because we are blank. We lack the extraordinary passions of mortality. We do not fear pain or loss or humiliation or even death. We are as empty shells.” She grimaced prettily, her face now a cross between Rosebud and Jewel. “In fact we are bored as Hades. What good is immortality without love, hate, fear, hope, or joy? Our existence is interminably dull, and there is no escape from it. Except to interact briefly with mortals, borrowing their emotions, striving to make them our own, at least for the instant that is their sojourn in life.”
This was interesting. “So when you seek sex with a man, you don’t have lust of your own. It is all about evoking his passion so you can share a bit of the feeling.”
“Exactly.” She eyed me again. “Understanding that, will you now have mercy on me and let me evoke yours? I have the longing of centuries to slake.”
I shook my head. “I can’t. You make me feel guilty, but I can’t.”
“Guilt is another emotion I would gladly
share with you.” She sighed. “But I must answer your question. Immortality extends into the past as far as the mind can compass. It also extends into the future. Some centuries hence there will come a new material, underived from sheep or plants or flesh; it is magically processed from the inanimate substance of the ground, and spun into fine strands that can make exquisite and strong threads and textiles. Young women will wear tight stockings made of this material, enhancing their legs phenomenally, as you can see.” She lifted her legs, parted toward me so that I could see every part of them from feet to juncture. They had a remarkable smoothness and luster, and of course strongly excited my masculinity yet again. “I am wearing nylon, and I take my name from it, appreciating its quality.”
I appreciated it too. “I wish I could get stockings like that for my wife. She would absolutely adore them.”
“I will give you these. Just let me get them off.” She set about unrolling the material from her luscious legs, making sure I got to see every portion of her marvelous nether architecture. In due course she had the sheer material off, and my manhood gave scant evidence it had ever been limp. She handed the stockings to me.
They were curiously slight, weighing next to nothing. I could squeeze them into a tiny ball. Amazing how such small things could enhance such shapely limbs! I put them in a pocket. “Thank you.”
“For the nylons?”
“That, too,” I said, finally wrenching my gaze from her inviting cleft.
She knew she had me ready to topple. “Then let’s—”
Sinbad returned, this time with Nydea. “I am taking my wife home,” he said.
So his denial was complete. He had to know she was really a Nubile Nymph, but his desire for his wife was so great that he chose belief over knowledge. As Queen Nylon had pointed out, this was surely best for him.
But Nylon, surprisingly, had a caveat. “Make Refuge your home, Sinbad. You can be safe here.”
“With every Nymph imitating my love? I think not. I want to be alone with my true love.”
The Series Boxed Set Page 26
