Forty-Three

 

Briska cried out again, her voice hoarse for the first time in too long. And still Amani played her body until it sang, just for him. She'd lost count of the number of times he'd carried her to that lofty peak of pleasure that made her scream, for once he'd reached it, he started again, just as lovingly as the first time.

"Stop fucking that man!"

Kun's icy tone cut through Briska's pleasure, freezing her in place.

"Now pick up that lamp, and hold it in your hands. He is the slave of the lamp, and as long as you are holding it, you are his mistress. Hold it in your hands and order him to throw himself off the nearest cliff!"

Briska winced as Amani slid out of her, wishing she could disobey the order, but even the thought of trying made her head pound. Blindly, she groped for the lamp.

"Go ahead. You're too late for that," Amani said. He rose from the bed, so that both Briska and Kun could see his naked magnificence, and folded his arms across his chest.

Briska touched the lamp, now cold from lying unlit on the floor for so long, and cradled it in her hands. She didn't want to do this. She didn't. Yet her mouth opened and the words came out anyway, followed by a sob.

And the sound of smashing glass.

Blood trickled down the surface of the mirror, tinting Kun's horrified face red.

"Blood of the betrayed that binds this djinn, set her free!" Amani commanded.

All of a sudden, a weight lifted off Briska, as though she'd been carrying a heavy load that had almost crushed her. The fog in her head – fog she'd scarcely noticed until now – cleared, and she became aware of just how cold she was, standing naked in a palace made of ice.

"NO!" Kun screamed.

"Yes," Amani replied. He flicked his fingers at her. "Now, you will leave us alone, for if I ever see you again, you will not live to see the next day."

Amid a storm of cursing, Kun vanished from the mirror.

"Did you kill the Sultan?" Briska asked, wrapping her arms around herself to try and stay warm. But the very thought of Amani – the man she loved – killing anyone, chilled her heart.

"No, of course not. That blood came from Maram."

"You killed my daughter?" Briska shrieked. She sank her teeth into her lip, determined to curse Amani into oblivion for hurting Maram, but nothing happened. "What is wrong with me?" She rushed at Amani and pummelled him with her fists. "What have you done to me? To her?"

He grasped her wrists and gently pushed her back. "I've made love to you, to the best of my ability. And I have done nothing to Princess Maram that she did not ask for."

Briska snatched up the lamp again. This time, she said the words of her own free will. "I order you to go jump off a cliff and never touch me again."

Instead of obeying, Amani laughed. "If it is your wish, I will not touch you. Because it is your wish. I am no longer a slave, and I have your daughter to thank for it. So do you, for she gave me the vial of her blood and commanded me to use it to free you. Until she told me, I had no idea that you still lived. The moment I was free, I did everything within my power to find you. Now I have...and you are free. No more orders, ever. Least of all from that whore, Kun."

Briska took this all in, looking for a lie, yet knowing she wouldn't find one. His words explained everything, and they even made sense. All except one thing. "But why isn't my magic working?"

His brow furrowed. "I do not know. If you permit me to touch you, perhaps I can find out."

Briska stepped into the circle of his outstretched arms, and breathed a sigh of relief as his warmth engulfed her.

He stood silent for a long moment, before he finally said, "Your magic is working fine. If anything, it's stronger than it ever was. This castle is absolutely humming with it. Every inch of ice and snow, obedient to your command, woven into a protection spell so powerful no one could see through it. Not even to search for you."

"But Kun said...she said she cast the spell. I didn't. I know I didn't. I would have remembered..."

"For a spell of this strength, it would have taken a lot of blood. No wonder she managed to hide you from me for so long. If she cast the initial spell, then used your blood to enhance it...but the amount of blood this would have taken...I don't know how you survived, my queen. Unless she took a little at a time, every day..."

The truth dawned on Briska so suddenly she gasped. She had not thought so quickly in years. "Gerda. When she and the boy stabbed me, I feared I would bleed to death. The floor was awash...and when I awoke it was gone. Kun saved me, or so I thought." She grimaced. "How do I break the spell so that it no longer uses up all my magic?"

"Just let it go," Amani said.

"Let it go?" she asked doubtfully. Breaking spells was usually far more complex than that.

Amani's arms closed around her, his voice a sultry whisper in her ear. "Feel the spell, just as you feel this." His lips kissed her neck, sending a flood of warmth deep into her body. "Then release it."

It was hard to focus, when all she wanted to do was return his kisses and caresses with a few of her own, but Briska did her best. Reaching deep within her to the magic in her blood, she found the spell, a delicate web of threads that radiated out of her and into every facet of the castle. Now she could feel the magic pulsing through the walls of the palace, keeping the world out. No more.

Briska severed the connection.

Magic boiled through her veins, like a flood unleashed on a dry river bed. She bit her lip, and cast the barest whisper of a lust spell.

The power of it swirled around her, more powerful than any blizzard. Swirled around both of them, as desire darkened Amani's eyes.

"My queen, I'm taking you home. My castle is yours, and right now, we need a bed, or my desire will melt this castle the moment I kiss you," he said roughly, tracing a circle in the air.

Lifting Briska in his arms, Amani stepped through the portal, from icy mountain to searing desert. No, not just the desert. A castle in the desert, and he was already carrying her inside.

Briska laughed. Inside, the castle was bare, but she had magic to spare. She conjured a bed, big enough to fit a sultan and a dozen concubines, then squealed as Amani tossed her on top of the silk cushions.

He fell to his knees on the end of the bed. "Permit me to love you, my queen. Every day for the rest of my life. Be my wife, and I shall worship you every night for as long as I live."

"Yes," she whispered as Amani took her in his arms, sliding between her legs and deep within her. "Yes!" And she melted under his touch, just the way she wanted. She was the snow queen no more.