Adijan and Her Genie

by L-J Baker

  “Thanks.”

  “Not that I can’t understand the urge to take a few risks. Between you and me, I’ve done it myself in my time. Need to weigh risks carefully, Nipper. Gain against loss. That sort of thing. Wouldn’t want to see you lose again, eh?”

  “I have only one thing to lose and everything to gain. There’s not much to decide.”

  Fakir nodded. “Can see how you’d think that. Can, indeed. But, you see, I was wondering – ahem. Wouldn’t like to see your aunt disappointed again. Not that she said anything. But it was obvious when you ran off to Ul-Feyakeh. The dear lady was a bit unhappy. But if you win, then she does. And so does Fakir. You see?”

  Adijan frowned down at her dusty second-hand sandals. She knew she’d let Takush down.

  “Might be able to help,” Fakir said. “Planning. That sort of thing. Won’t say a word to the dear lady. Lips locked and all that. Our little secret.”

  He looked so earnest, and she felt so bad. Adijan sighed and tugged the necklace out from beneath her shirt.

  “I’m taking this to Emeza,” Adijan said.

  As she outlined her plans, Fakir looked increasingly skeptical.

  “Magical necklace? Human genie?” He scratched his beard. “Sure you’ve not been at the wine, Nipper?”

  “Honey Petal?”

  Honey Petal appeared at the side of the desk. Fakir’s head snapped around. His eyes bulged and he leaped to his feet. Honey Petal looked him up and down before glancing around the room. She appeared, as always, unimpressed with Adijan’s surroundings.

  “Who –?” Fakir asked in a squeaky voice.

  “This is Honey Petal,” Adijan said. To Honey Petal, she said, “Fakir is my aunt’s friend. This is his warehouse, where I worked.”

  Fakir swallowed heavily and visibly struggled for composure. He couldn’t take his eyes off Honey Petal’s little gold bells.

  “May – may the Eye bless you,” he said.

  Honey Petal ignored him apart from folding her arms across her chest. “I take it, then, that we are not only not in Emeza, but you have made no effort to get there?”

  “No,” Adijan said. To Fakir, she added, “You can see she’s not the sort you’d want hanging around you for very long if you can avoid it.”

  Fakir nodded like a wooden puppet, not taking his eyes from Honey Petal’s bosom.

  “You’d better go back into the necklace,” Adijan said to Honey Petal.

  “I was merely on display?” Honey Petal said.

  “That wasn’t my intention,” Adijan said. “But I think Fakir has seen enough. I’ve certainly seen enough of him watching you.”

  Fakir started when he found himself ogling empty space.

  “I said,” Adijan said, “we’d better keep this to ourselves.”

  Fakir cleared his throat, looked embarrassed, and covertly glanced around as if looking for Honey Petal. “Well, Nipper. That was quite… quite a… ”

  “Quite. Yes. But now you can see I’m not on just another mirage chase. And why I haven’t told Auntie about Honey Petal.”

  “Oh, yes. Wouldn’t want the dear lady distressed to think of you with a magical… well, a magical…”

  “Whore,” Adijan supplied. “I must be going. I have an early start in the morning.”

  “Oh. Um. Right. Nipper, wait. Can’t just let you go off like that. Not right. Important journey and all that. Last chance to save Mrs. Nipper.”

  Adijan watched impatiently as Fakir dug a small bag out of his desk drawer. He dropped the bag into her palm. It chinked.

  “Money?” Adijan said. “But there’s too much here to be my last pay.”

  “Not your pay. Something to help you. Need to eat, don’t you? And come back. Your aunt wouldn’t take it well if you didn’t come back. Nor me.”

  “I’ll pay you back.”

  Fakir waved that aside and patted her head. “We’re family, Nipper. Or nearly, eh? Best not tell your aunt about this, either. Our secret, eh?”

  “Um. Thanks. Thanks a lot.”

  Fakir’s smile finally returned. He winked at her. “You go and get the gold. I’ll look after your lovely aunt. Won’t let anything happen to her. You can trust me.”

  Adijan felt very awkward. After a moment’s indecision, she offered Fakir her hand for the first time. His smile broadened as he clasped her fingers.

  “May the Eye watch over you,” Adijan said.

  “May the All-Seeing Eye guide your steps and make your journey safe and profitable, Nipper.”

  Adijan stripped and sat cross-legged on the bed. She untied the bag Fakir had given her. Mostly copper coins spilled onto the sheet, but there were three silver half-obiks. She sucked in a breath as she separated them and weighed them in her hand. In total, there was nearly two obiks. She bit her lip. Fakir’s generosity surpassed her wildest guess. She kept only a few small coins for her pocket, and put the rest in the security of her secret shirt pocket except for the three silver half-obiks, which she sewed into the waistband of her pants.

  She stretched out on the bed and pulled the sheet over herself. “Honey Petal?”

  Honey Petal appeared against the far wall. “I’m not on exhibition again?”

  “We’re leaving for Pikrut at dawn. Unless you’re horrible to me. In which case, I’ll send you back into the necklace and leave you to whoever gets the necklace when I die in twenty or thirty years’ time.”

  Honey Petal strode away to stand at the window. She waved a fly away with an angry jerk of her hand. “The holy city is a good choice. My father’s business has warehouses there. We will be able to travel on one of his ships to Emeza.”

  “That’ll help. And I thought Pikrut would be the ideal place for a bit of prayer. I’m going to need it.”

  “You doubt my word?”

  “I was thinking of divine help to get to Emeza as fast as possible.”

  Honey Petal paced the width of the room and back, accompanied by an impatient tinkling of her little nipple bells. “In light of the purpose of our venture, it would be desirable if I did not spend all of the next weeks banished. I need to think. I can only do that outside.”

  “But we hate each other.” Adijan rolled onto her side to study Honey Petal. “On the other hand, why should I do all the hard work?”

  “The matters I was referring to are beyond your cognitive abilities.” Honey Petal frowned outside as if the whole evening offended her. “This enchantment has been crafted by one of the greatest of masters. It won’t be easy to break, even for Baktar. If Ardashir retains his legacy, it may require Baktar to defeat him first.”

  “Are you saying this Baktar might not be able to do it?”

  Honey Petal flashed contempt at Adijan. “Baktar is a noble man of learning and skill. He’s above your judgment.”

  “But you just said –”

  “I said it would be difficult – not impossible. The task will be easier if I have more time to think.” Honey Petal resumed pacing, to the accompaniment of gentle tinkling. “Thus far, my opportunities to remain outside and unoccupied have been extremely limited.”

  “What? None of your masters were the poke and fall asleep type?”

  Honey Petal drew a deep breath and glanced skyward. “Eye, preserve me. From anyone with the slightest shadow more learning or civility, I would suspect calculatedly provocative crudities. You, though, know no better, do you?”

  “No. Just like you can’t help being an insulting snob.”

  “We are each to ourselves true. I shall certainly make no apology for my birth and breeding.”

  “Nor me. But I don’t expect you to understand. Now, I’m going to sleep. Did you want to remain out for the night?”

  “I have just explained it would be to our mutual benefit.”

  Adijan rolled over and tugged the sheet up over her shoulders. “That birth and breeding of yours didn’t include much manners, did it? Even in a whorehouse, you hear ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’”

  “You ca
nnot expect me to know the truth or otherwise of that.”

  “You don’t let up for a moment, do you?” Adijan lifted the pendant up so Honey Petal could see it. “Remember this?”

  After a stiff, bristling silence, Honey Petal said, “Yes, mistress. Thank you.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Adijan opened her eyes to the first pale wisps of dawn seeping through the window. Not fully awake, she savored the last warmly-colored remnants of an erotic dream and rolled over to reach for Shalimar.

  “Good morning,” Honey Petal said.

  Adijan blinked and sat up quickly. The human-genie stood near the window.

  “It’ll soon be dawn,” Honey Petal said. “You gave me to understand that would be the time for our departure.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  Adijan tip-toed through the sleeping friendly house to the kitchen. A soft tinkling of bells followed her.

  “We’re going to have to do something about those bells,” she said between bites of yesterday’s bread and cold left-over vegetables. “Come to think of it, that whole outfit is going to be a problem.”

  “Change it. You have the ability to modify my appearance. If you wish the bells removed, then request that be done.”

  “Just say it?”

  “What did you expect? An incantation at midnight and virgin sacrifice?”

  Adijan grinned. “Actually, I expected you to get snotty and tell me it’s all explained in that stupid poem I don’t have. Or it’s something I couldn’t possibly understand.”

  Honey Petal glanced skyward but kept her thoughts to herself.

  Adijan wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before self-consciously clearing her throat. “Go away bells.”

  The golden adornments on Honey Petal’s breasts vanished.

  Adijan blinked. “Wow. It worked.”

  “I have told you that this is an enchantment of the first order. Only in ignorance could you be surprised at its power and versatility.”

  “What about a shirt?” Adijan frowned. “It didn’t work.”

  “You phrased a question, not an instruction. And I would prefer –”

  “I want you to wear a white linen shirt. Wow! Look at that.”

  Honey Petal did look and lift a hand to touch. Her face showed considerable relief at not seeing the revealing blouse. “I would prefer –”

  “Wear red pantaloons,” Adijan said. “Wow. Wear green pantaloons. Ugh. Wear yellow pantaloons with green and blue stripes. Pock! That hurts my eyes to look at. Wear white pantaloons. Much better. And those golden sandals have to go. Wear plain brown leather sandals. There. You don’t look like a courtesan any more.”

  Honey Petal’s eyebrow arched. “I would prefer female attire.”

  “I don’t. And this way, no man is going to look twice at you.” Adijan headed to the door. “But I can’t say the same for women like me.”

  She strolled through the waking city streets toward Hadim’s warehouse. Honey Petal glowered at her side. Adijan knew she shouldn’t take quite so much pleasure in Honey Petal’s discomfort, but she also realized she needed to make the most of any good humor she could get. Unless she misjudged Hadim greatly, her life as one of his employees wasn’t going to be the slightest shred enjoyable.

  Shouts and mule brays already carried across the sleepy market square. Adijan halted and frowned at Honey Petal.

  “I was going to make you walk and work all the way with me,” Adijan said. “But now I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

  “Work?”

  “It’s the horrible stuff most of us spend our days doing so we can eat.”

  “I am perfectly well acquainted with the concept. My surprise was on account of there being any suitable employment for my talents in any enterprise or establishment at which you might find a use.”

  “There are plenty of pokers you could suck on a caravan gang.”

  Honey Petal’s lips compressed into a thin, angry line. “You can take the whelp out of the brothel, but not the brothel out of the whelp.”

  Adijan grinned. “I know you meant that as an insult, but it’s not to me. Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of you being cook’s assistant. But then, I don’t suppose you can cook. Had a hundred servants to do it for you?”

  “Twenty,” Honey Petal said, “and thirty-eight under-cooks.”

  Adijan smiled.

  “You can’t seriously expect me to engage in menial labor?” Honey Petal said. “And – need I remind you? – I don’t eat.”

  “True. We wouldn’t want people noticing that. More importantly, I don’t want anyone tattling tales back to Shali that I travel with another woman. Hadim could easily make something like that up, but I don’t want to give him ideas. Six weeks.”

  “Is it absolutely necessary I hear about your disgusting relationships with other women?”

  Adijan stared at her. “You’re my sex slave, aren’t you?”

  Honey Petal folded her arms and glared across the square. “I never thought I’d ever have occasion to look back fondly on any of my previous masters.”

  Adijan staggered to the cook’s wagon under an armload of firewood.

  “What took you so long?” the cook bellowed. “I knew you’d be lazy. I can tell by the look of you. Soft. A few strokes of the whip will cure you of that.”

  By the time Adijan rinsed the last pot, most of the men had curled up to sleep. She dropped wearily to the ground near the wheel of the cook’s wagon. This was just the first day, and she was already exhausted.

  Six weeks. Forty-two days and then she could be lying in a bed with Shalimar, married again.

  “Get up!”

  Adijan snapped awake to someone kicking her legs. She peered blearily up at the shadowy man standing over her in the dark.

  “Your watch,” he said. “If you fall asleep, overseer will flog you.”

  He gave her a light jab in the ribs with the butt of the spear before leaning it against the side of the wagon.

  Adijan dragged herself to her feet and ground the sleep from her eyes. She grabbed the spear and picked her way to a large boulder about twenty paces away. From there she could look back at the dark shapes of the wagons and the groups of oxen and donkeys. The sleeping men were black lumps scattered on the ground. She spun around at a movement in her peripheral vision. The dark shape lifted a hand. Adijan let out a breath and returned the salute. She watched him until he settled near a twisted tree. Yawning, she slipped around the boulder.

  “Honey Petal?” Adijan whispered.

  Honey Petal appeared.

  “It’s the middle of the night,” Adijan said. “I’m on watch. There’s another one around, too. So, keep the noise down. Don’t stand out there where he might see you.”

  Honey Petal stepped closer. “Where are we?”

  “A day from Qahtan on the road to Yabri.” Adijan yawned and rubbed her face. “You didn’t miss much today. Although you might’ve enjoyed watching that camel spit cook working me worse than a dog and then giving me the burned bits of bread.”

  Honey Petal sat and frowned into the dark, lost in her own thoughts. Adijan stifled another yawn and conjured up the image of Shalimar and their blissful reunion in six weeks time.

  “Mistress?”

  Adijan jerked awake.

  Honey Petal unclenched her grip on Adijan’s shoulder. “You were snoring. I heard voices.”

  “Camel crap.”

  Adijan scrambled to her feet and grabbed her spear. A man stepped around the boulder and stopped just short of colliding with her.

  “Asleep, were you?” he said.

  “Of course not, sir,” Adijan said.

  He grunted. “It’ll be the lash for you, if you sleep through your watch.”

  “Yes, sir. I know, sir. Is my watch over now, sir?”

  He shoved past her. Adijan spun around, aware that Honey Petal sat just behind the boulder. She let out a long breath when she saw the spot empty. Her fingers rose to touch h
er necklace under her shirt. Honey Petal might be a bitch, but she wasn’t stupid.

  Adijan stumbled back to her lumpy piece of ground and barely lay down before the cook kicked her awake. It was still dark as they revived the fires, fetched water, and began making breakfast. Then she had to wipe the dirty utensils, pots, and bowls. By the time the wagons creaked onwards, she was already tired.

  This was going to be the longest six weeks of her life.

  On the afternoon of the fourth day from Qahtan, the city of Yabri dissolved out of the heat haze. Adijan plodded alongside the cook’s wagon and imagined a cool jug of wine. She could taste the slightly sour liquid in her mouth and feel the raw aftertaste in the back of her throat. After the last four days, she deserved a drink.

  Amidst shouts and curses, the caravan rolled to a stop near the northern end of the city. Children and beggars soon trickled out of the gates. After helping with the oxen, Adijan bowed to the cook. He reeked of cheap beard oil.

  “I’ll be back before dawn, sir,” she said.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

  “To the city.”

  “Just because you once swived the master’s sister doesn’t mean you don’t pull your weight around here.” He emphasized his words with a large finger jabbed against Adijan’s shoulder. “This ain’t no escort for your pleasure. You work, just like the rest of us.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You stay here. If anything – and I mean the smallest crumb – goes missing from this wagon, I’ll take it out of your hide with the whip. You understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Adijan watched him stroll away and mentally formed an obscene gesture. Well, she had promised not to drink anymore. She climbed over the seat and under the wagon cover. It stank of an unpleasant mix of the cook’s sweat, perfume in his beard oil, and smoked meat. She wrinkled her nose.

  “Honey Petal?”

  Honey Petal appeared crouched, with one foot on a flour sack. She stumbled forward. Adijan caught her. Honey Petal immediately pulled away.

  Adijan ignored the expression on Honey Petal’s face, which was not gratitude. “Fourth evening. Cook’s wagon. Parked outside the northern gate to Yabri. Most are off drinking and whoring. I’m guarding the food.”