Thirty-Four

 

Kasmirus was a tropical paradise compared to this place, Amani fumed as he tried to move closer to the fire without actually sitting in the flames. This inn's fire was larger than the one in the Dragon's Head, but the very air seemed to drink the warmth from it before it reached him. He'd downed two drinks, enough to stop him from shivering, but it did little to slow the creeping numbness in his fingers and toes. If Kun didn't turn up soon, he'd head home and return on the morrow. He had no intention of trying to sleep in this frozen nightmare of a place.

He signalled to the innkeeper for another drink. If Kun had not arrived by the time Amani had drained his cup, he would depart.

A cloaked figure came into the taproom, almost bent double under the weight of snow on her cloak. And it was a woman, so ancient-looking Amani wondered how she could still be alive. The innkeeper took her cloak with reverence, and the taproom fell silent.

Beneath her cloak, the crone wore a gown that was more suitable for the desert than a blizzard, yet she did not seem to feel the cold. She made her laborious way across the room to Amani's table. The nearest place to the fire.

He debated whether to offer his seat to the old woman, but she made up her mind before he did. She perched on the bench across from him and patted the table, indicating for the innkeeper to set her drink down.

Amani rose, then bowed. "I must beg your forgiveness, revered grandmother, but I am waiting for someone. I will move to another table."

"And what makes you think I'll let you?" The crone lifted her head, and Amani found himself staring into Kun's unwrinkled eyes. She pressed a finger to her lips. "I hope you brought what I asked for. If you've dragged me out into a blizzard to beg and make excuses, I will turn you into one of those squirrel things so prized for their fur hereabouts. Vair, I think they are called."

Amani had no idea what a squirrel was, but he did know he didn't wish to become one. "Mistress Kun." He ducked his head and returned to his seat. "I believe I've found the object you wanted."

He pulled the lamp from the pouch at his waist and set it on the table.

Kun squinted at it, then tapped it. "It looks like an ordinary lamp. Aren't you sleeping in its twin these days?" She cackled with laughter, sounding like a crone.

"I will not rest until I have found Briska," Amani snapped.

Kun grinned. "Is the compulsion to obey getting painful for you? So much for being a powerful sorcerer, when you're rendered useless by a little headache." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "And it will only get worse. If this isn't what I asked for, you will fail in your quest."

So she knew about the skull-splitting headaches djinn suffered when they resisted their masters. A malady he would suffer from no more, though she did not know that.

"You asked for a magical object that can dampen any magic around it. This lamp does precisely that – at a radius of thirty feet," Amani said.

Kun snorted. "Do I look like a fool to you? If this was anything more than a common lamp, you would see me as I truly am. None of this white hair." She waved her hand at the white tresses that crowned her youthful face.

"It needs to be lit," Amani said, conjuring a handful of flames. He held the flames to the lamp wick until the oil caught.

Kun gasped.

So did Amani.

Before him sat a teenage girl, wearing a short tunic so thin it was almost transparent, leaving none of her skeletal body to the imagination. The only ornament she still wore was a ring that sat loosely on her finger, giving off a red light that shimmered across her skin, as though setting the very blood in her veins aglow. Magic of some kind, he guessed.

"And I thought all those muscles were an illusion. No wonder you seduced the queen so easily," the girl snapped. Her eyes betrayed her – they belonged to no child. "You should show your true form to young Maram. She will keep you close to home, no tiresome quests, and make you serve her in the bedchamber instead. She is a gifted courtesan, as capable of giving pleasure as she is at receiving it. You will come to enjoy it, I am sure."

The very thought of lying with Maram – Briska's daughter, no less! – disgusted Amani, and he made no attempt to hide it.

"Enough," he said. "You have what you asked for. Now, tell me where she is."

Kun wagged an admonishing finger at him. "Oh no. You have not told me how to control this thing yet."

"When the lamp is lit, the spell is active. When you extinguish the flame..." Amani dipped his fingers in his drink, then used the dripping digits to pinch the wick out. "When the light is out, magic may be used again." He waved his hand and his torso was once again covered by a thick fur vest.

In the blink of an eye, Kun had changed, too. The poor peasant girl was gone, replaced by the curvy courtesan he'd once bedded. She pursed her lips, as if to beg for a kiss. "You must think me a fool, Amani. This is not the treasure I asked for, but a poor imitation you have conjured to trick me. Does the disgraced queen mean so little to you, that you won't even go on a simple quest to save her?"

"I would do anything for her!" Amani protested.

A wide, predatory smile showed too much of Kun's perfect teeth. "Pledge yourself to me. Become my bed slave, and when I decide you have atoned for trying to trick me, perhaps I will tell you where to find the woman. If you still want her, once you have had me." She fluttered her eyelashes. Once, long ago, the slight movement had fanned his desire into a raging blaze. Now, he could only see the starving child who'd been seated across from him only moments before.

"No. You have what you asked for, I swear it. Now tell me where she is!" Amani roared, rising to his feet.

People were staring, but Kun paid them no heed. She was a crone once more, even more frail-looking than before. She raised her hand to wave, the ring on her finger seeming to glow red in the firelight. "Farewell, sorcerer, and good luck finding your snow queen without my help. When you are ready to offer me what I want, then I will help you."

She marched across the room, pausing only to pull on her cloak, before sweeping out of the door into the whirling snow.

Amani swore, then called for another drink. He'd need it if he intended to go outside into the snow to cast a portal home. At least he still had...

He stared at the table, but the lamp was gone.

The bitch had distracted him, somehow, and stolen it, taking with her his only chance of finding Briska.

The innkeeper brought his drink. Amani drained it, then ordered another. He may as well drink himself senseless, for he was the biggest fool the world had ever seen. And poor Briska would pay the price for his stupidity, once again.

He deserved to lose her.