Adijan and Her Genie

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Adijan and Her Genie Page 27

by L-J Baker


  “My patience is famed,” Murad said, “but not infinite.”

  “A thousand, thousand pardons, exalted lord.” The woman dropped to her knees. She licked her lips nervously and glanced at Hadim. “She – she said it again, great lord. Just those words. I heard Adijan.”

  Adijan’s blood tingled from her toes to the top of her head. Shali had said her name? Again? Oh, Eye, I thank you!

  Hadim looked as if scorpions fed on his liver.

  “So,” Murad said, “your sister knows the name of her ex-wife, but cannot recall the name of her husband. How do you account for this?”

  “The workings of my unfortunate sister’s broken mind,” Hadim said, “are a mystery to all but the Eye, Honored Brother. You might as well ask me why my pet monkey acts as it does.”

  Adijan snarled. She broke the captain’s hold on her arm and hurled herself forward before the bodyguards could stop her.

  “You scab!” she shouted. “She’s not a monkey!”

  She ran past the guests’ divans and made it to the dance floor before someone tackled her from behind. She tripped and sprawled. Pain shot up her left arm from her stump. Her right hand jolted open. The tiny clay jar of antidote bounced on the floor and skidded away toward Shalimar’s embroidered hem. Two men dropped onto Adijan to pin her to the floor.

  Murad held up his hands. Hadim froze as he scrambled to his feet. Mrs. il-Padur stopped as she stepped toward Shalimar. Takush halted three paces beyond her flanking escort. Shalimar, alone, had not reacted to Adijan’s outburst.

  “Do you know who that is?” Murad pointed to Adijan.

  Shalimar did not move.

  The woman servant put her hand in front of Shalimar’s face and lowered it slowly in Adijan’s direction. Shalimar turned with equal deliberation. Adijan’s heart thumped extra hard. She looked up into Shali’s large, beautiful, dark brown eyes. But Shalimar’s gaze contained not a spark of recognition or animation.

  Murad stroked his beard. “I am perplexed.”

  “Honored Brother,” Hadim said, “I did warn you that my simple sister was not as other women.”

  Adijan writhed under the guards and grunted behind the hand clamped over her mouth.

  “Mother of my bride,” Murad said, “is this truly the normal state of your daughter?”

  Mrs. il-Padur turned a despairing look on Hadim. She wrung her hands and burst into tears.

  “Honored Brother,” Hadim said, “my mother means no disrespect. Her nerves are easily overwrought. As you see, exalted brother-in-law, the women in my family are susceptible to excitement.”

  “Fetch a priest,” Murad said.

  “Priest?” Hadim said.

  The captain of Murad’s bodyguard bowed low to his master. “Puissant lord, there is a priest just outside the doors.”

  “A priest, Honored Brother?” Hadim said. “Perhaps – perhaps –”

  “Your sister knows me not. Excitement may indeed have overcome her diminished wits. You know your sister better than I know my bride.”

  Hadim smiled.

  “But,” Murad continued, “if she knows me not now, she did not know me a short time ago in the temple. And if she knew me not, are we truly married?”

  Hadim’s smile fled.

  Behind the guard’s hand, Adijan grinned. Yes!

  “But – but –” Hadim licked his lips. “Honored Brother –”

  The jewels in Murad’s rings twinkled as he held up his hand for silence.

  “Here is a priest,” Murad said. “He will be able to answer me.”

  The priest knelt before Seneschal Murad’s divan and bowed his forehead to the floor. “I am Ahmed al-Asmai, priest of the temple of Kharj. I am at your service, oh benevolent and magnanimous sir.”

  “Al-Asmai!” Hadim said. “We cannot trust –”

  “He is a priest,” Murad said. “If my bride knew not what she did when she gave her consent in the wedding ceremony, are we truly married?”

  Ahmed admitted that the laws of the temple required that all parties to a marriage give their consent willingly and without reservation.

  Murad nodded. He snapped his fingers. His bodyguards released Adijan.

  “You still have what you claim is an antidote?” Murad asked.

  Adijan’s heart leaped. “Yes, Exalted One.”

  She scrambled to her feet and stepped forward. Hands restrained her so she could get no closer to the fallen clay jar or Shalimar.

  “You will not approach her,” Murad said. “You, woman, bring her closer. Hadim, sit down. Remain quiet.”

  Shalimar docilely obeyed the woman servant’s guiding hand on her elbow to step close to Murad and the priest. Shalimar would see only Murad.

  “You will taste it first,” Murad said.

  Hadim tried to protest. One of Murad’s bodyguards placed a warning hand on his shoulder. Hadim glanced around to discover two armed men behind his divan. He did not look smug now. The chamber hummed with doubtful murmurs.

  Adijan could not remove the wax bung. The captain did it for her. She didn’t know how much Shali would need, so she tipped it up and allowed just a few drops onto the tip of her tongue. She grimaced. Her audience watched wide-eyed.

  “It tastes like salted date juice,” Adijan said. “The Enchanter Hujr didn’t warn me about that.”

  Murad signaled for Shalimar to be given the antidote. The serving woman took the jar from the captain. She turned to hold it to Shalimar’s lips, then hurled the jar away. Adijan flung herself into a dive across the dance floor. Her despairing fingers clutched the jar just above the ground. She hit the floor and nearly lost her grip.

  “Hold her,” Murad said.

  Murad’s men grabbed Hadim’s serving woman and dragged her away from Shalimar. Murad turned an implacable stare on Hadim. For once, Hadim didn’t have a slick answer ready.

  The captain took the jar from Adijan. He looked to Mrs. il-Padur, but she slumped on the end of her son’s divan and silently wept.

  Takush stepped forward to take the antidote from the captain. She gently encouraged Shalimar to swallow.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Adijan hardly dared breathe. She offered up a fervent silent prayer. What if there wasn’t enough antidote? What if Enchanter Hujr had sold her the wrong stuff? What if Zobeide had been wrong in saying this ahrar el jins was the right antidote for shaz? And what if the drug used on Shalimar wasn’t shaz at all? If only Zobeide could have been here. She might have been able to whip up some magic to dispel whatever ill Shalimar labored under. What if – if only – oh, Eye!

  Takush bowed low to Murad and retired a few paces to stand beside Adijan. She looked as anxious as Adijan felt.

  For an eternity, Shalimar’s back remained unmoving. Murad watched her with unchanging interest. Ahmed’s lips moved as if in silent prayer. Adijan clenched her fist so hard that her fingers hurt. Oh, Eye, she had not asked Hujr how long it would take to work. It might be days. Or a month.

  Shalimar shuddered. Murad’s eyebrows twitched and his interest sharpened.

  “Oh,” Shalimar said. “This isn’t the garden.”

  Adijan’s heart leaped into her throat as if it might choke her with happiness.

  “No, Miss Shalimar,” Murad said, “it is not. Do you know me?”

  Shali’s head tilted. “What a nice beard. It’s just like my father’s. All woolly and grey. Like a lamb.”

  Murad looked a little taken aback. Adijan smiled with pure relief and blinked back tears. Takush squeezed Adijan’s shoulder.

  “Oh, hello, Uncle Shadduc.” Shalimar waved to one of the guests. “You shouldn’t be eating figs. Auntie Zenobia says they give you tummy ache.”

  “Miss Shalimar,” Murad said. “Perhaps –”

  “Oh,” Shali said. “I must have drunk something nasty. My mouth tastes funny.”

  “Here.” Murad offered Shalimar his jewel-crusted gold goblet. “This wine will take the taste away.”

  “I don’t like wine,
” Shalimar said. “But thank you, sir. Oh. This is a nice dress. All shiny and smooth. I wonder whose it is. I hope she won’t be angry with me for wearing it. It is very beautiful.”

  “It is beautiful,” Murad said. “It was made for a wedding. The gown belongs to you. But it is clear to me now that the wedding was not yours.”

  “Wedding?” Shalimar said. “I like weddings. Everyone is so happy.”

  “And I cannot help wondering if the divorce was real, either.” Murad turned a hard, unfriendly stare on Hadim.

  “Hello, Hadim,” Shalimar said. “Is this your wedding? I do hope so. A wife might make you happy. Why don’t you look happy?”

  “Miss Shalimar,” Murad said. “I need to ask you just a few more questions.”

  “I’m not very good at questions,” Shalimar said. “Adijan answers all the difficult ones. She’s so much better at them than me. Where is Adijan?”

  “Do you not know?” Murad asked. “No. Please don’t turn away from me.”

  Adijan stared at Shalimar’s back. Shali had not wanted to marry Murad.

  “I – I don’t know.” Shalimar shook her head. “She came to take me home. She promised to come back. She promised me oranges. But – but she didn’t come back. And – and –” She bent her head and burst into tears.

  Adijan stepped forward. Takush grabbed the back of her robe to restrain her.

  “She promised.” Shalimar sniffed. “Hadim said she wouldn’t come. I told him she would. But she didn’t.”

  Adijan strained forward, but Takush held firm and shook her head vehemently. She knew Takush was right: that they should let Murad finish the questioning to his satisfaction. But it tore her heart to hear Shalimar weep.

  Shalimar’s broken remarks made it clear that she was highly confused about the last few weeks. Indeed, she didn’t seem to have any idea how long she had been living with Hadim.

  “I see.” Murad’s sympathetic look hardened as he flashed a glance at Hadim. “So, Miss Shalimar, you don’t remember a wedding or a divorce?”

  “She said she loves me,” Shalimar said sadly. “Akmina said that people stop loving. But that’s not true, is it? No prince and princess ever stop loving each other, do they? But –” Shalimar broke off in a sob. “I saw her.”

  Adijan scowled. Takush took the precaution of wrapping her arms around her.

  “That woman,” Shalimar said.

  “Are you saying that you remember divorcing your wife because of adultery?” Murad asked.

  “I – I don’t know who she was,” Shalimar said forlornly. “She was very beautiful.”

  “I don’t understand this,” Murad said. “But it’s clear –”

  “You see!” Hadim leaped to his feet. “Honored Brother, what you have heard is the result of some sorcery in the potion my sister drank. And her own idiocy. She is confused about –”

  “You turd!” Adijan broke out of Takush’s hold and launched herself at Hadim.

  She smashed her fist into Hadim’s face. He dropped like a sack of rocks. Murad’s men grabbed her before she could deliver a second blow. Hadim lay cowering with blood already welling from his nose.

  “Adijan?” Shalimar said.

  Adijan twisted her head around. Shali stared at her with eyes liquid from tears. The men released Adijan. She dropped to her knees.

  “Oh, love, I’m sorry,” Adijan said. “So sorry. I never meant to make you cry. Never. But I know that I did. That you ended up crying alone. Because of me. Because I didn’t protect you and treat you like I should. I didn’t treat you right. I meant to. I really did. But it didn’t work out that way. With the wine and my stupid schemes. And always leaving you to deal with the landlord. And our creditors. While I left you for days and days. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m really sorry.”

  Shalimar stared down at her, still looking on the verge of tears. Adijan had never felt worse: so impotent and guilty. Her fist opened and closed uselessly.

  “It may not be any consolation,” Adijan said. “But I’ve stopped drinking. No more wine. Or beer. Or anything. Ever again. And I’m going to get a steady job. I’ll ask Fakir if he’ll let me work in his warehouse.”

  Adijan swallowed down a throat uncomfortably tight. “I – I was wondering… Shali, if I straightened myself out, would you – urn. Oh, Eye.”

  She stared miserably up at Shalimar who made no move toward her.

  “Who was she?” Shalimar asked. “Who was that woman?” Big, damning tears rolled down Shalimar’s cheeks. “You were in bed with her.”

  “Oh. Her. Love, I don’t know who she was.” Adijan spread her arms. “I don’t. Honestly. She was someone who was paid to be in bed with me. Like the women at Auntie’s house. I didn’t pay her. I was drunk. I didn’t want any of that to happen.”

  Shalimar sniffed and bit her lip. The tears continued to fall. The wetness stained her red wedding dress. In a tiny, fearful voice, she asked, “Do you love her more than me?”

  “What? Love her? No! Oh, no. I don’t even know her name. I only saw her that once. We didn’t – we didn’t do anything. I promise you. I don’t love her. I love you. I never stopped. Not for a moment.”

  “You still love me?” Shali asked.

  “Of course! I love you more now than I did before. I love you so much that there’s none left over for me to love any other woman. I swear it, Shali, I love you and only you. Always.”

  Shalimar’s tears had stopped. “Forever?”

  “Forever and ever.”

  Shalimar broke into the biggest, broadest, happiest smile. She flung herself to her knees and wrapped her arms around Adijan. “Don’t leave me again.”

  “I won’t, love. I promise.”

  Adijan hugged Shalimar tightly, as if she would hold onto her even if a giant tried to pry them apart. This was what she’d dreamed of. The palaces, riches, and vast business empires didn’t matter. Being with Shalimar mattered. Making Shalimar happy was important, because that was the key to her own happiness. And now she held Shalimar. The warm weight of her filled Adijan’s arms. Her throat tightened and she tried to blink back tears, but could not stop them.

  “Why are you sad?” Shalimar asked. She touched Adijan’s tears.

  “I’m not sad, love. I’m very, very happy. And very relieved. So much has happened. I don’t – oh, love.”

  “Can we go home now?” Shalimar asked.

  “Yes.”

  With Shalimar’s hand clasping hers, Adijan had to use her sleeve to wipe her face.

  “Your hand,” Shalimar said. “Where did it go?”

  “Oh. I – urn. It got cut off. By a magical sword.”

  Shalimar’s eyes widened. “Magic? And you look like a prince from a fairy tale. Tell me the story.”

  “I will. When we get home, eh?”

  Shalimar smiled. She slipped her hand free and looped both arms around Adijan’s neck. “You haven’t kissed me.”

  Adijan heard Takush’s sniff and remembered that a hundred people watched them. Shalimar didn’t care. She put her lips to Adijan’s mouth. Suddenly, Adijan didn’t care either.

  Shalimar broke off, a little breathlessly, to give Adijan a blatantly seductive look from close range. “I dreamed about you.”

  Adijan grinned. “Let’s get home, love.”

  Shalimar thrust her fingers into Adijan’s hand. Adijan clasped them tightly.

  She looked past Shali to see Seneschal Murad watching with an unencouraging expression and offered him a deep bow. “Exalted One. I beg your pardon a thousand, thousand times for being the one to expose the stain to your honor. Had there been any other time and place, powerful lord, I would have been more discreet.”

  Murad nodded. “I cannot pretend that today’s events have been happy for me. And your part in them does not endear you to me. But I bear you no grudge. Your actions were just.”

  Adijan bowed again. Shalimar dropped a deep curtsy. Murad’s expression softened as he nodded to her.

  As they
turned away, Shalimar glimpsed Takush. She slipped her hand free and dashed across the chamber to throw her arms around Takush. “Auntie! You shouldn’t weep. Adijan loves me. She’s come back for me. And we’re going home. I’ve missed you.”

  Takush smiled, hugged Shalimar, and pecked her cheek. “It’s so good to see your smile again, Shalimar.”

  Shalimar opened her mouth to say something, but broke away from Takush to fly to her mother. Mrs. il-Padur slumped on the divan. Shalimar dropped to her knees and put her head in her mother’s lap.

  “She came back for me, Mother,” Shali said. “You shouldn’t be sad.”

  Mrs. il-Padur attempted to rally. She patted Shali and nodded to Adijan, but she also cast a miserable glance at her disgraced son.

  “Now, now, dear,” Mrs. il-Padur said. “You go along with Adijan.”

  Shalimar rose and kissed her mother. “I’m so happy.”

  “Good girl,” Mrs. il-Padur said. “I think Adijan will try to keep you that way.”

  “I shall,” Adijan said. “I promise. I really have given up drinking. And I’ve earned enough money to pay all my debts and go into partnership with my uncle. I won’t neglect her again, Mrs. il-Padur. I swear it to you. And I swear it to Shali.”

  Mrs. il-Padur raised a twisted hand in a gesture of motherly blessing. “You will marry her again? To make it right? Her father, may the Eye bless his memory, wouldn’t like it if it wasn’t all proper.”

  “Of course,” Adijan said. “We –”

  “No,” Hadim said. “Whatever else might happen to me, I’m still head of my family. Nothing in this world will induce me to give my permission for you to marry my sister. Nothing. You can rot in hell first.”

  Adijan stiffened.

  “Hadim?” Shali sounded wounded and surprised.

  “We’ll be moving to another town,” Hadim said. “I’ll find you a suitable husband there.”

  “No!” Shalimar said. “I’m married to Adijan.”

  “Perhaps you would like to reconsider,” Murad said.

  Adijan’s fingers tightened on Shalimar’s fingers. “I know, Exalted One, that Shalimar could find a richer and more important spouse than me. She –”

 

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