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Entertaining Angels
—
Opening her eyes in her childhood bedroom was disconcerting. She’d slept well at least. Judging by the angle of the sun, noon was approaching. Deciding to behave as she would if she’d been in her own apartment, she got up to prepare a meal. The servants being gone, and her parents not out of bed, she had the kitchen to herself. That presented another choice. Cooking manually was harder but more nourishing for their race. Naturally, she knew what her mother would advise.
“Food is love,” she quoted humorously.
Thus motivated, she had eggs sizzling in a pan by the time Balu joined her to perch sleepily on the agate topped prep table.
“Orange juice,” he mumbled. “Please, if you love me.”
Yasmin smiled. Her brother was even less sociable in the morning than she was.
A shuffling noise and a yawn told her Joseph had arrived too.
“Want help?” he asked politely.
“You could make orange juice for my brother.”
“Magic-squeezed is fine,” Balu added, more considerate of a guest than a mere sister. He rubbed his face with both palms. “I guess I could heat up leftovers from last night if anyone wants them.”
Joseph allowed he would enjoy that.
They sat at the good dining table, eating quietly, when a knock sounded on one of the high windows.
“Hello,” someone called, nose pressed against the glass. “Sorry to interrupt. No one answered the front door.”
“It’s Connor,” Joseph said, clearly surprised to see him hovering there.
Connor was the male member of the sultan’s love triangle. He wasn’t in smoke form, just levitating in the air.
“He must have news,” Yasmin said, immediately feeling more alert. “Maybe they’ve arrested Dimitriou.”
Realizing someone ought to do it, she magicked the aperture open.
“Thank you!” Connor exclaimed, beaming at all of them as he floated in and down onto his feet. Yasmin didn’t know the consort well, but he had to be the happiest djinni she’d ever met. “I’m so glad to see you and Joseph safe! We heard you’ve been having big adventures. You’re Balu, aren’t you? How nice to meet you! You’re as beautiful as your brave sister.”
Connor was rather beautiful himself. Also tall and well built. He had an unusual energy about him, as if his power were of a simpler and purer nature than most djinn’s. His eyes were a soft, swimming blue. Once seen, it was difficult to look away from them.
“Uh,” her brother said. “Would you like some food? And a chair?”
“Yes and yes,” Connor accepted delightedly.
Her brother laughed; it really was impossible not to. The dining chairs were low but had tall backs—a compromise between East and West. Balu rose and pulled one out for their visitor. “I expect you’re here to speak to Joseph and my sister. Why don’t I fill a plate for you and come back?”
“You can listen if you like,” Connor said. “Arcadius and Cade say you’re quite reliable for your age.”
The testimonial pleased her brother, who bounced from the room grinning.
“Is there news?” Joseph asked.
Connor’s good-natured face pulled into lines that were almost serious. “The news is a little challenging, though I do think we should have hope.”
“What happened?” Yasmin asked.
Connor smiled at her. His gaze was so sweet and gentle it made her a bit dizzy. “I’ll start at the beginning, the way our fiancée Georgie advises . . .”
* * *
Connor’s Tale
First, know Iksander was grateful to get your evidence concerning the treacherous plot. The Justice Minister believes it establishes a basis for prosecution, plus the guardians observe the scroll in particular is nicely organized. I don’t which of you that’s thanks to, but congrats! The necessary folks consulted, the guardians organized a mission for taking Dimitriou into custody. The plan was to bring him and any other fish they could hook for trial in the capital.
Because they didn’t want word to get out prematurely, the team they assigned was small. A dozen guards would accompany them, plus a sorcerer to handle magical containment for transport. Arcadius didn’t want Iksander along but, considering the political aspect of the threat, the sultan thought he needed to be seen confronting Dimitriou.
They were going to leave me behind. I’m not a fighter, I admit. I am, however, useful for seeing things that will happen before they do. Sometimes, anyway. I didn’t foresee what happened in Milion.
Initially, our arrival went smoothly. We set down at Dimitriou’s gate and, though his household troops challenged our right to enter, Dimitriou instructed them not to fight. He had nothing to hide, he said. Therefore, they had no cause to resist.
“My sole request,” he proclaimed for all to hear, “is that the charges be made clear before you haul me away in chains. I am a lord . . . and the elected speaker for this province. That much respect doesn’t seem too much to ask.”
His confidence was our first warning that he might have a backup plan.
The guardians wanted to take him without delay. We did have a proper arrest order. Iksander said other lords wouldn’t like the precedent this set. A leader who ignored their privileges was a leader they wouldn’t mind seeing overthrown.
“Our case is strong,” he argued. “Whatever evidence Dimitriou suspects we have, he can’t know the half of it. Why not present some of it here and now? When his supporters learn the depth of his depravity, they’ll beg us to remove him.”
They debated a little longer, but Iksander’s mind was set.
The sorcerer—a man named Celik, in case you’re curious—fitted Dimitriou with a special ankle shackle to prevent him magically escaping.
Dimitriou accepted the restraint. An ally of his, an older man named LaBass, proposed we present our case in the square, where all Milion’s citizens could watch. Even I saw this meant more loyalists, some of whom were trained fighters, would have time to congregate. We’d be outnumbered, no matter how much right we had on our side.
Iksander accepted this suggestion too . . . on the condition that LaBass also be shackled.
The man didn’t like that, I tell you! His aura went very dark, as if a storm of anger were roiling his energy.
“Let them have their way,” Dimitriou advised. “The sooner they present their little ‘case,’ the sooner everyone will know it’s preposterous.”
He was so dismissive it made me uneasy.
Sadly, I couldn’t think how to speak against it, and the plan was agreed to.
While this was going on, the females of the house had been hanging back inside. Probably, they didn’t want to leave the shadows with so many rough males around. The sight of Dimitriou being led away was too much for one. She ran out, full speed, and jumped on Iksander’s back.
“Bastard!” she cried—if you’ll pardon me repeating the insult. “Wasn’t it enough that you betrayed your wives? You have to smear Stefan too? He’s ten times the djinni you are, you snake-eating ifrit spawn!”
She called the sultan plenty more besides as she beat him wildly about the head.
I suppose the soldiers weren’t sure how to restrain a maddened female aristocrat. Arcadius moved while they were still gawking.
“Enough,” he said, pulling her firmly but gently off. “Recall your dignity, Lady Toraman.”
She didn’t appear to care about dignity. She wept and railed as Arcadius held her, thrashing very much as if she wanted another go at him. Iksander’s face bled from her scratches, though he wasn’t more harmed than that. His expression as he looked at the djinniya might have been the saddest I’ve ever seen.
“Safiye,” he said. “I know I’ve earned your anger but not for this. I hope, in time, you understand I’m trying to protect you too today.”
She spat at the grass and sobbed.
“Safiye,” Lord Dimitriou said. His voice succeeded in quieting her. “Be strong, darling. This is nothing to worry over. If I need you, I’ll send someone.”
I think he shocked her by suggesting she stay behind. If he felt sorry for that, it didn’t show. She hadn’t picked up her jaw when he turned to go.
Some of Dimitriou’s staff flew ahead to alert his allies in town. As we arrived, the square was full and growing fuller by the moment. It looked like all of Minion was turning out. I hoped this was a good thing. Apparently, a few of the townspeople had spelled a large white cloth to drape the town hall’s facade. I learned the sorcerer Celik intended to project the video from Joseph’s phone onto it.
Before he did, Iksander climbed the steps beneath. He wanted to prepare the djinn who’d gathered for what they’d see. Despite my anxiety, hearing how calm he was settled me. Well, you know how Iksander is when he speaks from the heart. Anyone can tell he cares about being as good a ruler as he can. He assured the audience he had no personal grudge against Dimitriou or LaBass. This wasn’t about shocking them with salacious material. This was about justice for crimes past and preventing crimes future.
I sensed most of the Milioners were willing to reserve judgment.
You two, of course, are familiar with the contents of Joseph’s phone. Celik played portions of both your video testimony. The conspiracy’s friends heckled the show at points, but not so much that you were drowned out. The claim that Lord Dimitriou had arranged to have people killed, including his own parents, met with louder objections. Many in the crowd cried ‘shame’ at the footage of their desiccated bodies. Some seemed to think Dimitriou incapable of the deed. Others objected to the remains being displayed disrespectfully. Another group sounded as if they’d begun to fear the charges might be true.
That, at least, was how it seemed to me.
Perhaps Dimitriou also sensed sentiment shifting. He made his own assertion.
“These scenes are pure fantasy!” he argued. “Everyone knows you can’t trust human technology—or humans, for that matter. Not one but two magically savvy members of that race fill privileged roles in Iksander’s court. In our realm, humans have the advantage in enchantment. Either or both could have cooked up this so-called evidence. Given the trouble the sultan has led us into, he can’t afford to be challenged by someone more popular. I don’t say I have ambitions of that nature, but he may believe I do.”
The crowd exploded in hot debate.
“Patience,” Iksander said, calming them again. “There is more to watch. You shall see how these threads connect.”
The footage of Dimitriou’s zombie love nest shocked everyone.
People groaned and called out things like ‘blasphemy’ and ‘degenerate.’
“The blasphemy is theirs,” Dimitriou countered with fiery anger. “Theirs, who invent these disgusting lies. Milion, I’m one of you. You’ve known me all my life. Whatever flaws I’ve demonstrated, none approached this atrocity. I protect the vulnerable. I do not prey on them.”
“We can settle this,” LaBass interjected, his cool voice rising above the others. He’d been standing toward the rear of the crowd, observing its reactions. “At least, I believe we can. Presumably, the sultan knows the location where these unnatural acts allegedly occurred. Why don’t we go and see for ourselves?”
Iksander wasn’t the only djinni surprised by this suggestion. Dimitriou, as well, seemed taken aback by it.
He caught his breath and recovered. “Yes,” he said smoothly. “Why don’t we go and see?”
Iksander couldn’t refuse even if he wished. “I’m certain Lord Dimitriou doesn’t need directions. For the rest of you, the spot is beneath a ruin west of the Temple of Demeter, on a cliff by the In-Betweens.”
“The abandoned flour mill,” someone said, recognizing the description. “In the old days, they used wild magic to turn the grindstone . . . until the cliff face sheared unexpectedly and made the area too dangerous.”
I didn’t like the sound of cliff faces shearing, but none of the locals seemed especially alarmed. As if it were decided, djinn began summoning carpets for traveling there.
After a brief consultation with Cade and Arcadius, Celik the Sorcerer took the two shackled men with him. If they had it in mind to run before the charges could be proven, he had the best chance of stopping them.
“They’re too calm,” Iksander observed in an undertone. “LaBass seems to think Dimitriou has a trick up his sleeve. He’s counting on it to save him too.”
“We have to play this out,” Cade advised. “I’ll warn the guards to prepare for circumstances going pear-shaped. If they do, we’ll fly our prisoners out of here as quickly as we’re able.”
“We’ll face resistance,” Iksander said. “And from a larger force.”
“I’m not worried,” Arcadius put in. “I’d match any of our men against ten of theirs.”
“You may have to. I had a view of the crowd from the steps. I counted uniforms.” Iksander’s tone was wry. He glanced at me as we moved toward the carpets.
“Ride with me,” he said.
I saw he was feeling serious, so I tried not to smile too much. Still, as always, I was happy to simply be with him. Georgie would have wanted him to have my support, and knowing I’d be pleasing her made me happy twice over. Though the guards could see and weren’t a hundred percent accustomed to our relationship, I took his hand as we lifted off.
Iksander wagged his head at me. “You’d think this was a picnic, the way you act.”
“You can let go, if you want.”
He returned my clasp instead. “Georgie will kick my ass if you’re harmed here because of me.”
“She won’t. Anyway, I think you made the right choice, letting Dimitriou have a bit of a hearing here. You’re not all powerful. You rule because the different strata of your people allow it, because they have faith you’ll be mostly competent and fair.”
“Mostly.” Iksander rolled his eyes like he was amused.
“Mostly is the best any incarnated being can do.”
Once we landed, the guardians led the way down the long staircase you described. Because the steps were narrow, only a portion of the crowd could follow. Determined to see, I squeezed into the line. Quite a lot of wild magic washed upward from below. I didn’t mind it, but I could see people shuddering. They gritted their teeth and kept going. So close to the mists, the discomfort seemed to be expected.
Our next sign of trouble was that no welcome mat lay at the bottom. More troubling, there also was no door. An irregular stone gap opened into darkness.
With a grim expression, Arcadius went in.
The glow he called up revealed an old dugout chamber with nothing inside it. No furniture. No Fifties kitchen. Certainly no dead-alive love slaves. Curious, Cade crouched and touched the floor. The surface of the stone was glassy, as if it a flame hotter than a blowtorch had melted it.
“This place has been scoured clean magically,” he said. “Lord Dimitriou must have guessed we’d investigate. He had plenty of time to remote-trigger a self-destruct.”
Others studied the room’s surfaces. At first, they seemed to agree with Cade’s assessment—and to find the bunker’s condition suspicious.
“This could have happened anytime,” someone scoffed, a safe claim to make, given how the proximity of the mist confused normal perceptions. “It could even have been done when the mill was operational. Perhaps this space was smoothed out for storage.”
“Bootlegging, more likely,” someone else suggested. “Who builds plain old storage this far underground?”
Neither theory helped our cause. I closed my eyes to find out what I could sense. I thought I saw djinn-shaped figures screaming as unworldly heat ignited their flesh and bone. They had a kind of life in them, though not the sort I was used to. A half-life, I mused. They hadn’t been conscious as we understand it, but they were still sentient.
“Dimitriou burned his playthings,” I said aloud. “To destroy the evidence of his crimes. They died a second time in terrible agony. They knew he’d betrayed them.”
A few djinn glanced at me and looked unnerved.
“You’re making that up,” scoffed the one who’d claimed the bunker could have been destroyed any time. “There’s too much wild magic hereabouts for anyone to tell.”
“I can tell,” I said. “I have more Sight than most.”
This was true, but, “You’re the sultan’s consort,” the ornery djinni insisted. “You’d say anything to please him.”
He made it sound like being Iksander’s consort wasn’t an honor but instead a cause for shame.
“I wouldn’t lie about something this important,” I said. “I’m 98 percent honest . . . 95 if I’m having a tricky day.”
Cade laughed softly and gave my arm a pat. “You aren’t going to convince these djinn. We’ll have to leave it for the courts to settle. Perhaps a committee of impartial experts can determine what happened here.”
His words made the best of the disheartening development. Probably, that was by design. The djinn around us were calm as we tramped back up the stairs and into the ruin.
“I’ll take my apology now,” was how Dimitriou greeted us. “Since your so-called evidence has been disproven.”
“And how would you know that?” Arcadius asked. He, I’ve observed, does supercilious even better than his double.
Dimitriou smiled at him. I noticed a larger crowd of townsfolk than before around him. They and the local guards had drawn nearer in support. I don’t know if they felt the same loyalty toward LaBass, but since he stood next to the younger man, he shared the benefit.
“Remove these cuffs,” he demanded. “As you’ve seen, we are innocent.”
“Hardly that,” Arcadius said. “As you yourself have asserted, evidence can be tampered with.”
“Slander,” LaBass blustered.
“Never mind,” Dimitriou said, touching his arm to cut short the rant. “My friend and I will be leaving now. If you wish to stop us, your men need to use those weapons they’re carrying.”
He seemed to know the guardians wouldn’t order that. If at all possible, Iksander wanted to avoid armed conflict. Whatever their affiliation, Milioners were his people too. To our sides’ dismay, the accused turned their backs on us and walked. Their escort followed their example. Muttering things like we showed them and capital elites think they can bully us, they ushered their leaders safely across the now-trampled wild grasses.
“Don’t worry,” Celik said quietly. “They won’t get far. The minute Dimitriou and LaBass try to cross the boundary to leave town, their cuffs will turn into boots.”
“Boots?” Iksander asked.
The magician nodded. “Two-inch thick. They’ll cover each man from toe to knee. Better yet, the metal I used to form them is iron-laced. They won’t be able to smoke free. Provided they don’t amputate their legs, we can track them anywhere.”
“Their legs wouldn’t grow back?”
“Severing them while booted would count as a magical injury. I’m no Joseph the Magician, but I assure you there’s not much chance they could override my spell.”
Not much chance wasn’t the same as none. Iksander seemed to know this but didn’t challenge the sorcerer. “If that’s the case, they’ll likely stay in Milion. We need more troops to separate them from their protectors. I’d like an intimidating number in order to discourage bloodshed . . . preferably before they figure out how to wriggle loose. Damn the scroll net not working in this place.”
Cade had a suggestion. “Connor could take a message. He’s a fast flier, and we weren’t counting on him to fight.”
“I’d be happy to,” I agreed.
“I know you mean that literally,” Iksander said with a slanting smile. “Very well. We’ll go that route.”
The guardians composed quick instructions while Iksander and I hugged goodbye. He did the backslap thing he would have for any soldier, but his eyes told me I meant more. I might have teased him by mouthing, ‘I love you.’ I wanted to be sure I left him in a positive mood.
Flying as fast as I could was exhilarating. I gave the guardians’ contact their note, answered his questions, then sat in the palace gardens to cogitate. I wanted to tell Georgie everything, but looping you two in seemed like it ought to take priority. I flew here, and you know the rest.
The End until what happens next!
* * *
Connor finished his story triumphantly. In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Yasmin was tempted to giggle. You’d think the consort had never recounted a tale before. That didn’t seem possible. Most djinn had told too many to count while they were still little.
“I should go out there,” Joseph said, his plate cold and shoved aside.
“To testify?” Yasmin asked. “I know we witnessed the events directly, but shouldn’t we share our account in court, properly? Iksander’s lawyers might not want Dimitriou knowing every detail of the case against him. Plus, we can’t assume Milioners will believe us any better in person.”
“I mean I should go out there to bolster Celik. He’s good, but he doesn’t have my experience. I’m sure Iksander would rather restrain that pair with enchantment than force of arms.”
“If that’s why you’re going, I should go too. I’m not saying you can’t handle it, but we’ve already worked together. We’re stronger as a team.”
Joseph furrowed his brow at her. “You really want to return to Milion? You’re safe here. You don’t have to face Dimitriou again.”
“I hope this doesn’t insult you, but I’d want to go even if you weren’t. I’d like to see this through to the end.”
Joseph continued to look perplexed. “Iksander didn’t ask for you.”
“He didn’t ask for you, either.”
“Give it up,” Balu laughed from what was usually their father’s seat. “Yami only gets that look when she’s really determined.”
Joseph turned his head to him. “You’d let your sister fly into danger.”
“Have you seen her run from it yet? Anyway, she’s right. You two make a good couple. —Magically,” he added when Joseph shot him a sharper look.
Her brother squirmed, probably believing he’d accidentally insulted his idol.
Joseph considered him a moment longer, then sighed resignedly.
“All right. We’ll return together. I trust you,” he said, holding Yasmin’s gaze firmly. “You will exercise good judgment, you are an asset, and I’m grateful for your help.”
He sounded like he was trying to make the words true by saying them. In that moment, she didn’t care. They rang as sweet to her as if he hadn’t a single doubt.
“From your mouth to the Goddess’s ear,” she joked.