Kiss - Frog Prince Retold

Part 5

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 s******c 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 l**t had leaked out of his usually 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.