Kiss- Frog Prince Retold Page 2

  A heavy hand landed on her shoulder, yanking her back. "What are you doing?" he hissed.

  Anahita glared at him. "If we want to get out of here, we'll need a distraction to hold their attention. Releasing the camels to stampede through the camp should do it."

  "Or a fire," Haidar said cheerfully, rubbing his hands together as he rose to his feet.

  A wisp of smoke curled up from the tunnel they'd crawled through.

  "Fool!" Haidar's cousin growled. "I'll get us some supplies. You get her to the camels. If she's not there when I get back, we go without her!" He darted off.

  "Shall we?" Haidar asked.

  Anahita nodded, and led the way to the camels on the outskirts of the camp. She selected four who had been part of her entourage when she arrived, and led them away from the rest. "Stay here with him," she told them, pointing at Haidar. To him, she said, "These were my father's. They will carry us home." Then she untied the rest. "There is food hidden in the tents, with the men," she said. "Trample the tents and you will find it, but hurry!"

  Heads lifted, and they stared at her uncertainly for a moment.

  "Food. The men in the camp, the ones who beat you, they are hiding it!" she said. "Go and get it!"

  A cloud of sand surrounded her, as the grunting beasts rose to their full height, then lumbered off toward the camp to wreak havoc. Screams erupted. The screams of men, not women, for once.

  "Yes," she whispered, elated.

  "What did you do?" Haidar demanded.

  A shriek sliced through the sandstorm. A sound Anahita recognised. "Vega!" She ran toward her.

  "Come back here, girl!"

  Haidar's hand reached for her, but Anahita dodged and ran on. She could not leave Vega here. But in the dark, the eagle's tethers were impossible to untie.

  "Give me your knife," she said, holding out her hand.

  "We need to go back to get Asad," Haidar said.

  "I'm not leaving Vega. She is my hunting falcon, and she's coming home with me." Anahita glared at him. "Give me your knife, and help me cut the others free. They will help with the distraction."

  She felt the cold hilt in her hand, and closed her fingers around it. The sharp blade sliced through Vega's jesses, and the bird rose into the air with a triumphant shriek.

  "You may hunt in the morning. For now, stay with me," Anahita told the eagle, who settled obediently on her shoulder. She made quick work of the other birds' restraints, too.

  The other birds eyed Vega warily, not budging from their perches for fear of what the eagle might do to them.

  "Attack the men. They keep you prisoner. Once you are free, you may hunt, and all your prey will belong to you, and no one else. I will keep you safe from this eagle," Anahita told the birds. "Fly!"

  The falcons rose, a mismatched flock with one deadly purpose. Vega clicked her beak in frustration, and Anahita reached up to stroke the eagle's feathers. "You will fly free at dawn, I promise. But we must get far from here."

  She hurried back to the camels, where both men stood, waiting.

  "What did you do?" Haidar asked. "I've never seen animals obey like that."

  Anahita smiled. "Magic."

  "You're a witch?" Haidar's eyes showed white with fear.

  "What's that bird for?" Asad asked, pointing at the eagle.

  "Vega is what you would call my familiar. My friend." Her only friend out here.

  "She'd better not scare the camels," Asad said, climbing onto the lead animal.

  Anahita chose the smallest camel and struggled to climb onto her back. Between her broken arm and Vega, she was exhausted as she sank into the saddle.

  "A drink for you, lady, for we will not have time to stop until we reach the next oasis," Haidar said, passing her a water skin.

  Anahita nodded her thanks, uncorked it, and drank.

  Wine coated her tongue, a welcome wetness as it trickled down her raw throat. Then she tasted the bitterness behind it, and it was too late. She tried to curse, but the words wouldn't come.

  The opium stole her wits and darkness engulfed her again.

  Five

  Day after day, the water level dwindled, despite Philemon ordering the djinn to refill the wells every night. One well ran dry, then another, and what had once been whispers became loud enough for even the prince to hear his citizens' concerns.

  Philemon summoned the djinn door guardian. "What do you know about the other djinn?" he asked him.

  The djinn shrugged. "He is the slave of a lamp, like I am the servant of your ring of office. He's powerful enough, but I don't trust him. My treason has long since passed into legend, but what is his crime? What did he do to deserve eternal enslavement? What if he is here to serve some other master, who wishes to bring Tasnim low?"

  "You're right. I don't trust him either. Every night, I have ordered him to rectify our water woes, and every morning, they are worse. What does one do when a djinn is not following his master's orders?" Philemon asked.

  The djinn shook his head. "I have never heard of such a thing. It should not be possible. He must be in service to someone else who means you and the city ill. Someone whose orders are more powerful than your own. The only permitted reason for refusing an order is because a djinn lacks the power to do what he's asked. Otherwise, I would fill the city's wells myself, but you know I cannot."

  "So what do you suggest?" Philemon couldn't believe he was asking the djinn for help, but this djinn was once a vizier as loyal to the city as Fadi. And who knew djinn better than one of them?

  "You can only fight magic with magic, and you need the help of someone more powerful than the lamp slave. I can let it be known among magical circles that you are looking for the help of a powerful enchantress, and you are willing to pay a high price for it."

  It was on the tip of Philemon's tongue to ask how high a price, but it didn't matter. The only price too high to pay was the loss of the city, and its water supply. If it cost him all the gold in the treasury, so be it. The city's wealth was in its water. Without it…the city would die.

  "Do it. Find an enchantress powerful enough to save Tasnim from this djinn."

  While Philemon waited for the door guardian's return, he sent camel trains to the as yet unnamed oasis, to bring back water for the city. His concubines grumbled at having to surrender their bath to become the household water supply, but Philemon left them no choice. Once a place where water was plentiful, for the first time, Tasnim became like other desert cities, where every drop was precious.

  Finally, the door guardian returned. "I have brought your enchantress, Master," the djinn announced. "Allow me to present Lady Zuleika."

  She was his height, and she wore her hair uncovered, though it was twisted into a complicated knot on the back of her head, held in place by pins or magic, he wasn't sure. From her proud bearing, she could have been a princess, not just a mere lady.

  The door djinn didn't seem to care about introducing him. Philemon sighed. If he wasn't enslaved to Philemon's ring of office, he would have sent the djinn away long ago.

  "I am Prince Philemon, a humble prince in need of your help to control a troublesome djinn," Philemon said, bowing deeply.

  "What sort of man sends a djinn to find an enchantress to solve his djinn problem?" Lady Zuleika asked. "It seems like a particularly sadistic task to set your poor slave."

  Philemon jerked up from his bow and met her amethyst gaze. He'd mistaken her for one of his own people, but her pale eyes and unnatural height marked her as the child of some northern barbarian from the lands where it snowed in winter. He'd heard tales that the northern women fought as warriors alongside their men, much like the women warriors who had once been garrisoned here, and her manners made him believe it. A pity, for the enchantress was young and pretty. She'd make a lovely wife, were her tongue not so waspish.

  Those purple eyes blazed. "Look at me like that again and I will leave," she snapped.

  Too late Philemon realised his lust had leaked out of his us
ually controlled expression. Or perhaps this witch had read his mind – he had heard tales of powerful enchantresses who could do such things.

  Philemon cleared his throat, trying to clear his mind of thoughts of this girl's body. "This djinn is not the problem. It's the other one. The slave of the lamp. He drained the wells of Tasnim dry and refuses to repair the damage he's done."

  Lady Zuleika nodded. "Ah, no wonder the price you offer is so high. Gold is nothing compared to water in the desert. A djinn who makes it disappear must be stopped." She waved a hand. "Show me the djinn who caused the trouble."

  Now? It would take his servants some time to make their way to the treasury in the lower levels of the city to retrieve the lamp and bring it back. Time he did not want to spend in the enchantress's company, risking offending her again.

  "Summoning the djinn will take time, and you must be tired from your long journey here," Philemon said smoothly. "Allow me to accommodate you in one of the finest guest chambers in the palace. Servants will bring you refreshments, water to wash with, and anything else you need. My other djinn will be your guide in the city, showing you anything you wish to see."

  She inclined her head. "Thank you. I have heard great things about the generosity of desert hospitality, but this is the first time I have had the opportunity to experience it for myself."

  "You'll have to wait until the water's back before you can use the bathhouse," the door djinn said.

  Philemon was struck with the irresistible image of the young enchantress in the harem bathhouse. Desire stirred, and more besides.

  "I'll be in my chambers," he called after her and the door djinn. It wasn't a lie. He would be – after a detour to the harem to find a willing concubine or two to sate his desire. Because more than anything, Philemon knew he needed her magic more than he needed another girl in his bed.

  Six

  Late the next morning, Philemon emerged from his bedchamber, aching in all the right places. Now he could face the enchantress without being distracted.

  "Your Highness, Lady Zuleika wishes you to meet her in the lower treasury," a servant said.

  Philemon stared. "Before I have broken my fast? The woman is mad. Tell her I shall be with her when I am ready."

  The servant bowed and hurried away.

  Philemon took his time over breakfast, knowing he needed to calm his irritation before he faced the enchantress. At least until she had restored their water supply. When he felt he was pleasantly full and he'd regained most of his good mood, he set off for the deepest level of the city.

  "Ah, perfect timing," he heard the enchantress say. She beckoned without looking at him. "Philemon, come here and order your djinn to remain in his lamp until his master summons him."

  Philemon wasn't sure which was the greater insult – her familiarity, or the fact that she deigned to give him orders.

  She made an impatient sound in her throat. "It's the last step of the spell. Once you've said the words, the djinn will not be able to trouble you again. Even if he was ordered by your enemy to destroy the city, as his new master, your orders will take precedence. Hold the lamp in your hands and issue your orders."

  Grudgingly, Philemon stepped forward and lifted the lamp in both hands. He cleared his throat. "Slave of the lamp, you are ordered to remain within the confines of your lamp until I summon you." He set the lamp down on a chest by the back wall.

  She wrinkled her nose. "Not as precise as I'd like, but it will do. Now, Kaveh told me this is your personal fortune, and not the city's wealth?"

  Philemon nodded. "Indeed. The city treasury is on a different level. These rooms hold the gifts personally given to the many generations of princes who have ruled this place."

  "So, when you offered half of your personal fortune for an enchantress who can fix your problem here, you meant half of that?"

  It hurt to agree – losing so much gold was a blow to any man – but Philemon forced himself to nod. "Half of my fortune for saving the city, yes."

  "Good, because I've enchanted all of it. Your half and mine. Anyone who enters this chamber will be filled with such irresistible desire for the gold they see that does not belong to them, that they will not notice the lamp, nor wish to take it from you. Therefore the djinn will remain under your command and inside the lamp, unable to do any further harm to your city." She glanced around. "Perhaps I should ward the door, too, so that no one can open it. Or just you."

  Philemon shook his head. "The gold here belongs to the crown – to me, now, but to my successors, should I succeed in siring a son. And princes do not open their own doors. We have servants to do it for us. Here." He rubbed his ring and the door guardian appeared. "If you must enchant the door, make it so that only this djinn can open it. He is the slave to my ring of office, which passes to my son in his turn."

  She shrugged, bit her lip, and waved her hand. A faint hint of lavender dust flew through the air and sparkled on the door for a moment before it faded. "There. The djinn will trouble you no more!" She turned her amethyst eyes on him. "Now, I would like to take a small part of my fee with me, but leave the rest here, for this is as safe a place as any." A bag appeared in her hand, sturdy enough to hold a great deal of gold.

  So fast? Philemon smiled. "Now you have returned our water to the city, you have more than earned your fee, Lady Zuleika."

  Her eyes grew wide. "Water? Do I look like a water witch? You hired me to deal with a powerful djinn, not fill your water tanks. Which I have now done, so as soon as you pay me for my services, our business will be concluded."

  "Unless you restore the water supply to our wells, I will give you nothing!" Philemon shouted. He grabbed the enchantress's arm and dragged her into the corridor. Then he pointed at the door guardian. "Seal the door to the treasury, and do not open it unless your master commands you to do so!"

  The round stone door rolled into place behind them.

  "Now fix our water, witch!" Philemon said.

  Lady Zuleika snatched her arm from his grip and returned his glare. "One you have paid me for the services already rendered, then perhaps I will consider taking a second commission. Until then...I will not help you, and nor will any witch, once they've heard what I have to say."

  "I will not pay you a single copper coin until you fix our water supply!"

  "And I will do nothing for you until you pay me for what I have already done!"

  The door guardian broke the tense silence. "Master, it is unwise – "

  "Silence!" Philemon roared. "Remove this woman from the city, and see that she does not return. Then find me a witch who will do as I ask!"

  "Then you sentence your city to a slow death by thirst, because of your treachery. No witch will help you now!" Lady Zuleika said.

  "What are you waiting for? Seize her, slave!" Philemon snapped.

  The door guardian's expression was one of wide-eyed panic, but he could not say a word. He wrapped one arm around the enchantress, pressing his hand to her mouth so that she could not draw the blood she needed to cast a spell. Without magic, her strength was no match for the djinn's as he carried the struggling girl up to the gate.

  "Good riddance!" Philemon called after them.

  Seven

  The sun reminded Anahita of her sister, Maram, the way it wanted to worm its way into her good graces, and Anahita was having none of it. Every bit of her hurt, and the sun would only blind her if she opened her eyes, anyway. Not to mention the gentle warmth she felt now would turn into a raging blaze that seemed to set the very sand on fire. Yet it was as relentless as Maram when she wanted Anahita awake, for she was one who always got her way. No one could resist her for long.

  But Anahita would hold out as long as possible, for they had played this game for as long as she could remember.

  An impatient clacking sound got the better of her – Vega did not click her beak lightly.

  Finally, Anahita opened her eyes.

  Vega flapped her wings, as if to gesture toward her haul. Two fat
ducks lay on the sand, and some sort of scurrying creature Anahita could not identify – all dead.

  "You've been a busy girl. Which would you like?" Anahita asked, reaching out to stroke the eagle's feathers.

  Vega cocked her head to one side, so that one fiery eye could better regard Anahita.

  Ah, animals did not understand the nuances of likes and dislikes. Spending so much time among humans without an animal to talk to, she'd forgotten.

  "Which is the tastiest?" Anahita asked instead.

  Vega did not reply. She closed her beak around the dead scurrier's neck and tugged it closer to herself, opening her wings in a protective mantle over her meal.

  "Good choice. Thank you for the ducks, then. They will break my fast nicely." Anahita reached for them, only to realise there was something else she'd forgotten. Her splinted arm was a pointed reminder about the previous night's events.

  "I wondered when you would wake," a male voice said.

  Reflex made Anahita reach for a veil to cover her face, but Haidar shook his head.

  "No need for that. Asad and I are no longer men. That bastard Fakhri saw to that." He spat on the ground at the mention of the man's name. "May he rot in hell like all the damned for what he did to our village."

  "What did he do?" Anahita ventured, though she suspected she knew.

  "A few of his men attacked our camp at dusk, luring our warriors out of the village. As the two best warriors, my father left us behind to guard the women and children until they returned. But no one returned, and he had an army hidden in the dunes that descended on us when it was dark. Asad and I are good, but not against so many. He and his men captured everyone who was left, and dragged them back to his camp – even the girl children. He used the little ones first, making us carry out the corpses once he'd finished taking his pleasure of them. I thought he was a demon then, before he started on the women. And my wife…"

  "Which one is your wife?" Anahita asked.

  Haidar just shook his head and buried his head in his hands.

  Asad approached. "Haidar's wife was with child. That bastard tried to cut the child out of her before he took his pleasure of her. She bled to death beneath him in his bed, before he made us carry the corpse out. I'd never been so happy not to marry, but my sisters…ah, we buried them all, until we were the only ones from our village left alive. He was preparing to attack another camp when you arrived and…distracted him." Asad shuddered.