"The Emir, however, is very quick indeed and immediately demanded to know what she was doing risking her delicate lungs in the night air, whose animal was that in the garden, and from whence had she obtained the bottle. She cast her eyes modestly down and handed him the bottle, caressing his neck and chest with her free hand. 'Oh, my lord and master, how relieved I am to see thee!' she said, and raised her eyes wonderingly and batted the lashes thereof with a fury worthy of the sirocco. 'Seest thou! Someone has admitted that beast to thy garden! I heard a noise and looked out my window, and observed that this beast was among thy roses, defiling them and also devouring them, and I thought of nothing but thy loss and hastened down to drive it away-'

"And the Emir pretended to be convinced and said, 'My brave darling!' and the lady continued, 'But it would not heed me and I cast about for some object to throw at it and found this old bottle lying upon the ground. I think the beast may have kicked it out from under a shrubbery!

"A bottle in my shrubbery? I'll have the gardener flogged,' the Emir said.

"But as he threatened, he leaned over the girl's dainty foot and scooped up my cork from the ground and thereby contained me, else I would have found myself flogging a gardener for him. He-the Emir I mean, I know nothing of the gardener-is a man not unlearned in the arcane arts, and knew for certain what his concubine had delivered into his hands when he saw the seal of Suleiman upon the cork."

"So now you live with the richest, most powerful man instead of simply one of the richest, and our Aman wears a donkey's tail!" Aster said. "I suppose that makes you happy, may you be a worm in dung in your next life."

"You wrong me, lowborn princess," he replied, looking almost as sad as Aman. "For, irregular as was thy husband's household, it was more amusing by far than my present employment, and in a life as long as mine, amus.e.m.e.nt is no trifling matter. This new master may be a prince but he vouchsafes me no journeys to foreign climes to procure rare types of ugly foreign women, nor does he permit me to run his household with my magicks, preferring outmoded prosaic methods instead. Indeed, he shows little appreciation for my powers, for all that he has coveted them, but seems chiefly pleased that he has deprived someone else of them. Not only is he wealthy, but has, I suspect, access to magic from other sources, to regard mine so poorly. Where thy husband took greatest delight in using my skills, this one sets my bottle in a niche in the wall until he may spend my power as he would an insignificant silver coin. The sole task he has set for me is to gather for him thy husband's holdings, for though he knows not that Aman is the donkey, he knows that Aman is missing and his household helpless and has invented this new tax specifically to bring down the upstart whose glory threatened to dim his own.

"Imagine! Me! One of the most powerful beings of the cosmos reduced to the station of tax collector! But thus it is, and I am so reduced by the will of my new master, and you see before you the fruits of my labor, upon which I was merely taking a brief rest when you encountered me. Also, his seal is upon the door and that too is his will and therefore I must say to you, though it grieves me to do so, 'Scat!' and 'begone!'

"One moment, demon," I said. "If indeed you harbor tenderness for our husband, tell us then, what is to prevent us from finding this Hyaganoosh and persuading her to undo the wrong she has done us?"

"Naught but a piddling desert, an insignificant sea and a bit of a mountain range, O strange one," the djinn replied. "The Emir was not entirely convinced by the story his fair one told him, I suspect. And though he cannot prove her treachery, he has chosen to send her away as a gift, from the looks of the entourage accompanying her. Probably to the King. The Emir has not been in high favor since the King's father banished him from the capital to administer these lands. Again for suspected but unproven treachery. The King is a boy on the verge of becoming a man and very susceptible to such gifts. It may work."

"I don't suppose you could help us snitch your bottle and then fly us over to where the woman is before you have to go back to the Emir, could you, venerable Uncle?" Aster wheedled.

The djinn was both mournful and indignant. "I can perform no such tasks on thy behalf, lady, while the Emir holds my soul sealed in my bottle. Strictly speaking, I should not have spoken at all. However, it is partly upon my head that such unsuitable beings as yourselves have been loosed upon this city and I felt it no more than my duty to warn you and to explain what befell my former master. Furthermore, my new master will kill thy husband if ever he learns the truth of this matter, even though Aman Akbar still wears a donkey's hide. The lot of you will be sold at market, I suppose, since no one in his proper mind would believe you are lawful wives-if the Emir believed that you were, he would probably put you to death as well. Therefore, avail yourselves of my wisdom and get you far from the reach of this Emir, and take your braying spouse with you."

Um Aman jingled across the garden behind us. If she discovered the djinn, she would rapidly undo these vestiges of goodwill he offered. If he discovered the gold she carried, he would be bound to take from her the gold that represented what hope we had left of a future.

Amollia fell quickly and noisily into a genuflection, all of her jewelry setting up a tremendous and concealing clatter. "Your advice is welcome as always, immortal one," she said. "But pray, do not let us hinder you in your work, but rejoin your master and allow us a moment or two alone to weep our women's tears for the life here we have lost."

"It would also help," I added, "if you could neglect to mention to your new lord that we're here."

"Hearing and obeying," the djinn replied and winked out, along with the treasure upon which he had been seated.

It took Aster's truly civilized, highly developed understanding of how to evade obedience of inconvenient laws and persons of authority to devise a plan to deliver us from our predicament. It also took the cooperation and connivance of Um Aman's cronies to implement the plan, and a great deal of Um Aman's h.o.a.rded gold.

The women did not have to be asked to come to the widow's home the next morning. As soon as prayers were over, they arrived en ma.s.se, their eyes shining with curiosity above their face coverings. Each in turn kicked her shoes into the courtyard before settling her behind onto the mud bricks of the yard. Once settled in this fashion, the women gazed up at us expectantly, waiting to hear our tale of woe regarding the loss of our home. By then, of course, everybody knew about our misfortune, since one woman's husband's second cousin's son had seen the sign on our gate in pa.s.sing.

Aster's plan delighted them, and frightened them a little at the same time. But now that they had it straight from the mouth of the seeress that we were good and blessed women, most of them seemed inclined to enjoy our audacity and the chance to buy something beautiful, even if it was not for themselves. And truly, there was nothing wrong in such a plan, for were not wronged women supposed to be allowed to apply to the wives of the ruler for justice? That was within the law and surely it was a good thing to help a friend receive what was due her. It was doubtful that even the Emir would deny a mother and wives their rights if they followed the proper procedure, and if he did, and Um Aman and the foreign women came to harm, why then, the cronies had done their duty as friends and would have a large party to lament the woes of one of their number and a new story to tell for years to come.

So with Aster's carefully edited version of what she intended us to do ringing in their ears and Um Aman's gold burning in their palms, they set forth upon their individual shopping sprees to the stalls of the best of the silk merchant's, the carter's, the jeweler's, the cobbler's, and those other establishments where our needs might be obtained. Also, there were those truest friends of Um Aman's who were willing to loan jewelry of their own to help us make a more fitting appearance, despite the very real possibility that it might never be returned to them. Before they left, when preparations were completed, and while they were still seated, I saw Um Aman tuck a coin in the sleeve of each of their abayahs, and if the leathery lines around her eyes glistened with dampness, still her face was determined.

The women returned that afternoon with their booty, and the next day and the next their free hours were spent in the courtyards of first one and then another, so that no one in particular would be implicated in case of trouble (Aster's suggestion), sewing, embroidering, and otherwise fashioning the silk and jewelry into garments and curtains for the litter being produced by the carter at our order.

At last Khadija, the oldest of Um Aman's friends and the best embroiderer, shook the kinks out of her reddened fingers and pa.s.sed the garment she had been sewing over to Aster. Her daughter did likewise and her pretty young granddaughter, who had chattered with excitement during the whole three days' worth of work, licked the last of her needle p.r.i.c.ks and added her shimmering contribution. Certain children received in front of the doors of wealthy houses other items which had been ordered. When all was in readiness we four gathered in the house of the seeress, who lived near the Emir's palace. Earlier that day we had accompanied the other women to the hammam baths, where we had bathed and oiled and perfumed ourselves with ointments and fragrances purchased and borrowed, but all of fine quality, before donning once more our own dusty clothing. Now we flew around an equally dusty room, for the seeress did not see such insignificant things as dust in her own home, and fastened, pinned, tied, polished, adjusted, combed, brushed, draped and patted our costumes into place, finishing with the help of the seeress and Um Aman by applying kohl to our eyes and rouge to our lips and cheeks and beautifying henna symbols to our palms and fingers and faces-the latter were for Amollia and me. Aster said it was more high cla.s.s to do without the henna.

For Amollia and I were to be the serving women, walking beside the palanquin while Aster, dressed as a great lady, rode within. Um Aman was not overly fond of her own role, which was to wait for us at the caravanserai in case we needed to bolt. Then too, if we did not return, she would have Aman Akbar to care for. She could not risk prison, rotting inside the Emir's dungeon while on the outside her son could be bought and sold as the beast of burden he appeared to be. After more than a few stern words, she departed. Aster climbed into the palanquin, Khadija's out-of-work male third cousins picked up either end, and we paraded out of the back alley which was all but deserted now in the midday heat. From there we had only to round a corner to the main gate of the Emir's palace.

Amollia coolly announced to the guards that we-Aster that is-had been requested to visit the wives of the Emir of Kharristan by the newest wife of her own husband, the King of Persia, who was, she said, related to one of the Emir's ladies. They could announce that the Princess of Wu, wife of the King of Persia, had arrived.

The Emir's ladies were delighted to see us, which was hardly surprising. During the days Aman Akbar had left me alone in the harem, I would have been glad of visitors too.

We tried to make an interesting spectacle of ourselves. Amollia and I each carried a ceremonial-looking but quite functional spear, embellished with paint and colored feathers and so on. Our abayahs were bright blue, as per Persian custom, with gold at the sleeves, the edge of the veil and hem. Aster wore a scarlet brocade jacket with a pattern of gold and rubies (Well, they looked like rubies.) and all-but-transparent red-and-gold-striped trousers with lots of jewelry on her feet and hands and Khadija's grandmother's ruby earrings hanging to her shoulders. Her hair hung straight under a golden turban with red plumes.

The Emir's women, more sensibly wore very little indeed, for it was the hottest part of a hot day. My own garments were soaking and I deeply hoped nothing untoward would happen, for I wasn't sure I retained the strength to deal with it.

Amollia and I stood by the door and tried to keep straight faces while Aster was offered the softest cushions upon which to sit and the nicest of dainties upon which to snack. We waited for her to make her move and wondered. For one so talkative she had been vague on a number of rather important points which now began to occur to me. All she had said, really, was that if we would follow her plan to get her inside the harem, she would obtain the bottle and all of this rested on her faith that wealthy, bored, fashion-conscious women of one country were very much like wealthy, bored, fashion-conscious women of any other. Since I had never known anyone of that description, I had to take her word for it but she certainly sounded as if she knew what she was talking about, so I didn't object. Amollia seemed to have faith in her, but Amollia seemed to have faith in everyone. Um Aman, as I've hinted, invoked her G.o.d with great vociferousness for blessings for our success and gruesome vengeances if we failed.

The Emir's wives were uniformly raven-tressed and dark-eyed except for one copper-haired woman who appeared rather miserable but who wore many more jewels than the others. Though many of them were extremely pretty, they had in common a listlessness, which may have been due to the heat, a dullness around the eyes, and a certain bloated quality bespeaking lack of exercise. Among them, Aster, about whom there was nothing dull, listless or static, looked more like a G.o.ddess than a princess. She played it to the hilt, gazing down upon the others from her lofty height a full head shorter than any of them, even sitting.

Her gracious silence and unspoken disdain of her surroundings caused them to jabber and show off all the more to impress her. Women of my tribe wouldn't have taken kindly to such an att.i.tude, and would probably have stoned her for her airs, but these ladies were well-aware of the advantage to be gained from a person of importance. Aster casually clapped her hands and had Amollia crawl forward to present one of the necklaces we had had made and though it was of mediocre workmanship and not all that costly, the recipient, the Emir's second wife, seemed sure that if it came from Aster it was rare and costly. At any rate, she admired it a great deal, keeping any misgivings she had to herself.

The others pa.s.sed it around and I crawled forward, tangling myself badly in the folds of my garment but otherwise managing to conceal my distaste for crawling, and presented Aster with another casket of earrings and lesser jewels. These she laid on the floor, allowing the wives to pick over them like children scuffling for candy at a festival.

A very young one gigglingly admired the effect of her new pearl ear-drops in a gold-backed hand mirror. "Are all the ladies in Persia wearing these, Princess Aster? And what about your women guards? I think that's frightfully novel, to have women guarding you. Would they be strong enough if some man absolutely couldn't control himself-you know, if he happened to glimpse your beauty or something, and tried to a.s.sault you?"

"If Amollia and Rasa couldn't handle him, my little pet, Kalimba, would have him for dinner," Aster sniffed smugly, reaching out to pet the cat, attached to her wrist by a length of gold-colored metal. Kalimba, not caring that she went better with Aster's outfit than with Amollia's, growled warningly, and Aster's hand quickly returned to her lap. "You see, she's showing off how fierce she is."

"Ooh, I think it's rather dangerous, but rather intriguing too. What do you do with the cat when your husband comes to your chamber?"

"Why nothing. Don't you customarily have your leopard lying by your side when your husband loves you?"

"I don't remember," the second wife said with more wit than I'd have given her credit for. "However, Onan did once give me a jewel box with a cat upon the lid that looks just like your pet. Would you like to see it?"

Aster indicated with a sweep of her lashes that she would, and one of the younger wives scurried off to fetch it.

"Charming," Aster p.r.o.nounced, examining the emerald eyes, the topaz spots on a coat of solid gold.

"Do you really like it? It's quite old actually. It looks exactly like your cat, doesn't it?"

"It certainly does," Aster admitted, as if she were just being pleasant. "Why, the eyes are the exact shade, aren't they?"

"That they are. You must take it. I insist."

"How very gracious," Aster said, accepting the box and snapping her fingers. Amollia glanced uncertainly at me, gave a slight shrug of one shoulder, dropped to all fours again and crawled forward to receive the trinket.

"Just which of the Persian King's wives are are you, Princess Aster?" a brash young thing inquired. you, Princess Aster?" a brash young thing inquired.

"His favorite," she said without hesitation.

"The guard mentioned something about a new wife having a relative here?"

"Ah, yes, that was the point of my visit. This poor little thing who came to us from one of the-less conventional-routes. She's so terribly homesick. She asked if while I was here I wouldn't visit and see her cousin Hyaganoosh. Which of you might that be?"

"What a pity!" the second wife said. "She has left this palace and been sent to another establishment in Sindupore. It was a promotion, you understand, but sudden."

"Amana will be so disappointed," Aster said. "She specifically asked me to see her cousin and tell me what her rooms were like, if she had a garden to enjoy, what sort of presents her husband had given her. Such a child! Still, I suppose I can invent something rea.s.suring."

"Dear Princess Aster, if it will ease your kind heart, well be only too happy to conduct you on a tour of the harem."

Aster allowed that it would ease her kind heart a great deal.

"Lovely," she said indifferently, when shown the pools, the gardens, the thick dark-red carpets so intricately ornamented and piled upon one another, the gold-inlaid tile work, the gold and silver fixtures, the luxurious appointments throughout. "Cozy little place. How charmingly quaint to have such a profusion of-things. I'm afraid the current trend in Persia is toward a certain elegant simplicity. Oh, quite stark actually, compared to your your sweet little palace. Take those lovely rugs there. Now, for a person of a certain... individual bent, those would be just the thing to have exactly as you have them, but the floors at home are kept bare except for the marble tiles, which are shined to a high gloss with the elbow grease of Nubian slaves. And a room may have but a single ornament, say a vase like this one,"-She ran a finger around the lip of a vase I recognized suddenly as having stood a few days before in the library of our palace-"adorned only with a spray of winter branches. sweet little palace. Take those lovely rugs there. Now, for a person of a certain... individual bent, those would be just the thing to have exactly as you have them, but the floors at home are kept bare except for the marble tiles, which are shined to a high gloss with the elbow grease of Nubian slaves. And a room may have but a single ornament, say a vase like this one,"-She ran a finger around the lip of a vase I recognized suddenly as having stood a few days before in the library of our palace-"adorned only with a spray of winter branches. That's That's the sort of thing I mean. They're doing it in all the best houses now, I understand, from Mesopotamia to Baghdad. How delightful to see such... traditional ideas still prevail in some parts of the world." the sort of thing I mean. They're doing it in all the best houses now, I understand, from Mesopotamia to Baghdad. How delightful to see such... traditional ideas still prevail in some parts of the world."

"It sounds a strange fashion to me," a younger wife said, wrinkling her alabaster brow.

"Not really. It is simply a matter of a certain spa.r.s.eness, I suppose you might call it," she said with a world-weary sigh, "a lack of the usual cushions, rugs, jars, lamps, and bottles, replacing all of these little knick-knacks with uncluttered elegance."

"Isn't that rather bare?" one wife asked.

"My dear, that's just the point, don't you see? You have have heard surely that in order to have more it is sometimes necessary to have less?" heard surely that in order to have more it is sometimes necessary to have less?"

That wife looked baffled but another said slyly, "You did say you are from Wu, did you not? Because all of this seems very inscrutable to me."

Aster laughed. "My dear, I couldn't agree with you more. But it is is the way things are done in Persia and the other centers of fashion these days. the way things are done in Persia and the other centers of fashion these days.

"I seem to have missed this trend," the second wife said, and the worry in her voice slipped through only slightly. "I do wish our husband would keep me informed of such matters when he goes abroad. It is so much to his advantage that his household be foremost in Kharristan with the current styles."

"The best ideas are are slow to filter into the provinces," Aster said beneficently. slow to filter into the provinces," Aster said beneficently.

A concubine sitting near my feet drew her veil across her mouth and whispered up to me, "How in G.o.d's name can your mistress afford all that bareness? Where does she put put her household things?" her household things?"

"That's a simple matter," I said, suddenly inspired and beginning, finally, to understand Aster's plan. "She gives three presents for each gift she receives and each gift she gives is of twice the value of the one she receives. It keeps her busy, trying to maintain that stylish bareness, but as a result her rooms are are fashionable and her generosity renowned." fashionable and her generosity renowned."

The recipient of this information considered it for a brief time, then turned to the woman beside her to whisper.

Someone buzzed softly into the second wife's ear and she asked Aster, "You truly like these carpets, milady? You don't think they're-too much?"

"Certainly not. Why, they really-um-add something." She sounded as if the something might be rust, perhaps, or mold.

"Then, oh light of grace and beauty, you must take them with you as a token of my esteem and that of my husband's house! You there, girls, roll up these rugs for Her Highness. Our master would not like her to report to her husband the King of Persia that we were neglectful of her household needs, and everyone knows that the rugs to be found in the markets here in Kharristan are of superior quality."

"I'm overwhelmed," Aster said. She continued to be overwhelmed with golden platters, a bit of jewelry she yawningly admired in one room or the other, an ornamental sword, and various vases, but I could see that disappointment and restlessness were overtaking her pleasure in this charade. It didn't seem to be producing the results for which she had hoped.

"And this is Leila's room now," the second wife led us, huffing and puffing under the weight of the treasures acquired in the last room, to a charming chamber with a familiar latticed window overlooking a rose garden. The red-haired woman sat possessively in a corner and looked embarra.s.sed. Aster scanned the room with the eye of a wolf selecting the weakest but tenderest lamb. "It used to belong to Hyaganoosh."

This was obviously also the room where the Emir now spent his nights. Though the chests carved from precious gems and scented woods probably provided storage for most of his clothing, lengths of silk and gauze trailed negligently across the floor. While Aster loudly and fervently admired every box and container in the room in hopes, I suppose, that the bottle might have been stored in one of them, the cat paced restlessly at the end of its chain and began toying with the end of one of the silken lengths, batting at it. Aster's voice grew louder and more brittle and the women began to look affronted. Amollia's face was wary. Aster was definitely overdoing it. The women had no authority to give her the Emir's personal belongings, and despite her a.s.surances that she would be sending them a few things by messenger from her Persian palace as soon as she returned home, some of them were beginning to look with regret at the items they had given her. Only the cat seemed natural and unconcerned, peering out from beneath a self-made veil, probably one of the Emir's sashes, and batting an obligingly roly-poly article between her front paws. No one else was watching, and since I was too enc.u.mbered to bend down and examine the object, I snagged it with the b.u.t.t of my spear and rolled it toward me. The cat didn't like that, but her chain didn't reach far enough for her to argue with me. The cork to the djinn's bottle! What was it doing rolling around on the floor? And where was the bottle in which it belonged and the accursed contents of that bottle? Even as I wondered at these matters, I dropped the rugs and embroideries I carried with the pretense of rearranging my load and when I picked them up again, scooped up the cork as well hiding it in my own sash inside my abayah.

Aster was making her goodbyes by then, pretending to take careful note of the names of each wife in order to know to whom to address the gifts she wished to send. Amollia led the way out of the chamber perhaps a bit sooner than Aster was ready to leave, and I was right behind her. The Emir's ladies were looking decidedly peevish. The open litter was as welcome a sight as a cave in a thunderstorm and Amollia and I rushed toward it as fast as pomp permitted, and tossed our burdens inside, while Aster and the second wife chatteringly followed behind. We would have been safe enough if the Emir hadn't chosen that moment to return home.

Chapter 6.

I do not think that the separation of men and women is a good idea, the way it is done here in my husband's country. It makes some of the men a little crazy. The Emir rode into the courtyard with a number of his guard, all of them on gleaming black steeds, and his eyes did everything but fly out of their sockets when he beheld the unveiled Aster among his wives.

At first I thought he must know who we were and what I had found, for he leapt from his horse's back as if he were a far younger, trimmer man, except that he caught his foot in the horse's silken trappings. That alone saved us. For while he was fumbling, Aster bolted for the litter and the cousins of Khadija trotted off double fast through the still-open gate before the guards realized that anything was amiss. As we pa.s.sed them I heard the Emir babble, "But who is she? That shining one? I must have her! Who is she?"

He followed us a few steps and I looked back, expecting to see the guards wheeling to bear down on us as we gained the street. Instead I saw the Emir's second wife, hastily veiled before the guards, throwing herself around his legs and crying, "Stop, Dawn of My Day, cease pursuing our guest, for she is the Queen of Persia and you would insult her husband."

I didn't hear any more than that for the litter bearers whipped us around the corner to the seeress's house and ran off down a back alley. The three of us dragged the litter inside, pulled off our finery and donned our old clothing, covering ourselves with dusty, well-used abayahs. By the time the hoofbeats of the Emir's guard shook the walls of our refuge, we were peacefully sitting on the roof, helping our hostess sort her inventory of charms and chicken bones. The litter had been chopped up for firewood, the fine gowns folded and hidden with the other treasures behind the bedding.

Indeed, we felt ourselves very clever and free from detection until suddenly a column of smoke descended upon us and the seeress covered her face with her veil and prostrated herself. The djinn stood before us, glowering. Aster fell into a coughing fit. Too much smoke, no doubt.

"You certainly get around," I said to the djinn.

"I am not the only one," he said severely, and a little plaintively. "O wives of my former master, why must you always be the agents of complication and chaos?" I wondered if our Yahtzeni demons were nearly so p.r.o.ne to whining and self-pity as this creature.

Aster recovered and smiled winningly at him. "On the contrary, O being of everlastingly long years, we were bent upon doing you a good turn and delivering you from your captivity."

"Or at least making it possible for you to be the captive of someone more appreciative of your powers," Amollia added judiciously.

"Whatever was in thy tiny woman's mind, thou hast botched it, for now I am bound to deliver thee to my master, who having seen thy face is overcome with the pa.s.sionate desire to possess thee."

Aster considered this only a moment before waving it airily aside. "Out of the question, Old Uncle. The Lady Aster, the dutiful wife you see sitting here before you, has never had the so-called honor of meeting the ill.u.s.trious and felonious person who employs you. How can he therefore be so enamoured of her?"

"Don't be coy with me, habibi. Thou wast within his dwelling but a short time ago and he saw thee unveiled. I told Aman Akbar that failing to train his women in the proper veiling procedures would-"

"But it was not I in his courtyard," Aster said, "but a Persian Queen. The only resemblance between us is that we are both-ahem-very beautiful and virtuous married ladies."

"It was thee I saw crawl into the palanquin, O gem of infidelity. Thinkest thou I do not recognize the plague of impiety and impropriety I have loosed upon this land in thy form and the forms of thy accomplices?"

"Ah, but I tell you, dear djinn, that you are mistaken. Ask any of the Emir's wives. They will tell you we were nowhere near the palace today, such humble women fallen so low as we are, all but widowed."

The djinn placed both pudgy hands on his turban as if his head had expanded to fill it and moaned. "But he has required of me that I fetch thee-"

I crawled between the djinn and Aster and pointed at him. "You heard her, demon. We aren't going. Haven't you done us enough harm?"

"Rasa," Amollia said reprovingly. But the djinn stared at me and shook his head again, while Aster continued with the voice of sweet reason, though she had to peer around me to meet the demon's piggy little eyes.

"Dear Old Uncle, do you not understand that you have been asked to fetch to your master a Queen? You cannot bring him a low-born foreign woman, no longer a virgin. Like many men, your poor master has fallen in love with an illusion that not even a djinn can supply. Go to him and say the lady has already left for Persia and seek no more to dishonor your former mistresses."

The djinn gave her a perplexed look and me one so full of anxious confusion that he appeared ludicrous. "You heard her," I snapped. "Go."

"Hearing and obeying," he replied, and smoked back over the rooftops.