Chapter Eight—On the Town

“It’s been too long since I’ve seen the fall,” Jessamine said.

“It is quite wonderful,” Ali said.

Shiro nodded, admiring the Jifa waterfall. It came down in cascading steps and filled clear pools of delicate water flowers. The entire area was shaded with palm trees, their turtle nuts naturally dropping at their bases.

The mounds of sand between the pools formed little islands where exotic birds and water turtles lived.

In the center of the sandy islands was the temple of Jifa, an ancient structure of overlapping bricks that jutted out at odd angles. The construction style was something that Shiro had not yet seen in these lands before. The structure was so old, the bricks had become black and covered in moss and algae.

“I do not see any of the holy men,” Jessamine said. Then to Shiro she added more quietly, “The Order of Jifa was still active in my time.”

Looking with wide eyes, Shiro glanced about the inner dome of the grand Sanshedrik Palace. Craning his neck so high, it was beginning to hurt as he witnessed the ceiling sculptures of gold that framed the frescos of battle.

“Yes, yes,” Ali said, his arm around Hafza, “the Great Palace of Sanshedrik. He attempted to wrest power from the then sultan. Don’t ask me why. He thought that was the best way to unite with his love—one of the concubines in the sultan’s haram.”

He chuckled then leaned in and whispered something to his wife. Leaning in, their lips touched.

Jessamine was watching them and as they continued kissing, she glanced over at Shiro with a smile. He felt uncomfortable, so he decided to make conversation with her. “This new dress is lovely,” he said, admiring her. Jessamine was wearing a red form-fitting dress with a low neckline, similar to her green one, but the fabric was more silken.

“Isn’t it?” Jessamine asked, and pinched the fabric, lifting the hem slightly as she looked down on herself. Her sandals glinted with a soft golden sheen. They were made of a particularly soft wood that was treated and pressed with gold dust then sealed, giving them the look that they had. The leather straps were similarly treated.

The palace itself was magnificent, but Shiro thought its beauty was positively stale compared to the beauty of Jessamine.

She was captivating, alluring, even. He needed to stop thinking of her this way. But it was difficult when she—at times—paraded herself around him, sometimes without clothes, though she was careful never to allow him to see too much.

How she was able to do that without ever seeming embarrassed or making mistakes, Shiro didn’t know.

What he did know was that this jinni had a way with men.

And she knows it…

Their eyes met. Neither he nor Jessamine said a thing and neither did they look away from one another. There was something there in her eyes.

What is she thinking? he wondered, hoping she wasn’t listening in on his thoughts.

They broke eye contact when Ali exclaimed, his voice echoing about the fine walls and expensive vases. “Hey! Let’s go to the Gakorifa!”

Some of the other visitors looked at them, but the guards didn’t move or say anything against Ali’s slightly raucous behavior.

Not yet at least.

“Yes!” Hafza yelled.

They both glanced at one another awkwardly, Jessamine turning to regard Ali and Shiro did the same, asking, “What is the Gakorifa?”

“It’s an expensive luxury establishment,” Hafza said excitedly. “They have pools and hot baths and comfortable rooms with silk linens.”

“But the best thing is the drink!” Ali said. “The wine is fabulous! The best in the empire! Oh and the beautiful masseuses from Dathrin,” he added, his eyebrows jumping about mischievously.

Hafza laughed and Jessamine joined in.

The jinni was almost believable.

“Well let’s go!” Jessamine cried. “Woo!”

The day was wearing on, but Shiro said nothing. Today was her day. Jessamine wanted to experience Darshuun. Shiro would have been lying had he denied that he wanted to do the same.

But they were here now.

The city isn’t going anywhere, he thought. And neither is Darius.

He said nothing, following the others out of the palace and back to Ali’s carriage, which was spacious enough for four travellers. The cushioned seats were comfortable too.

“And then!—and then! She asked him for a second bottle!!!” Ali screamed the end of his joke, his wine glass sloshing most of its contents onto the table.

He and Jessamine burst out laughing.

“Ahhhhhahahahaahaha! Haaa! Haaaa!”

“Bwah! Haha! Hahahahaha!!!!!”

Shiro rolled his eyes as Jessamine laughed so hard he thought she might develop a sudden condition of the blood and have to see a mage or magical healer for help. Hafza laughed as well but not as hard as Ali and Jessamine.

Shiro was… moderately drunk and he did chuckle at the inane joke. Somehow it was funny, despite there being nothing funny about Ali’s buffoonish behavior.

Gods, he felt tired.

Just moderately drunk!

The music was loud and there were servants and serving girls and dancers and carousers. The heated pools lit with bright blue lights were packed like fish crates. There were steaming piles of food—every meat possible with succulent vegetables and sweet pastries.

There was even a fountain of red wine flowing and splashing about in the center of the main carousing chamber.

“Gods!” Ali said. “I’ve never laughed so loudly and so freely in my life!”

“Me neither!” Jessamine said. “In fact, I have—hervn?—been drunk in at leasrt… shixty years!”

Then she burst out laughing again, Hafza along with her, though Ali’s wife had no idea that the time of sixty years that Jessamine mentioned was actually true!

“That’s shright!” Ali exclaimed, pointing a finger in Jessamine’s face. “You’re a jinni!”

Jessamine looked at him with wide eyes, frozen, like a statue. Shiro couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the face she made. Jessamine joined in, followed by Ali and Hafza last.

“More of the wonderful red spirits of Jajawaka?” a barely clothed serving girl asked, her tray filled with bottles of red wine.

“Ohhhhh yesss!” Ali said, leaning over their spread and spilling more of the wine out of his glass.

“You’re spilling!” Hafza called. “Your cushion, husband. It’s everywhere—never mind.”

“It’s fine, dear,” Jessamine said, waving it away. “There’s plenty of wrine!”

Shiro could barely hear them. He felt annoyed as Jessamine climbed over him toward the bottles.

His opinion changed when her low-neckline dress exposed most of her breasts. Practically leaning over him, she was so close to his face he had to pull his head back to look at them properly.

“Very nishe,” he slurred.

“Ohhh!” Ali said with a knowing nod. “I think it’s time you found yourself a woman, Shiro. This wonderfully sensual beauty will do!” With a hiccup he gestured to Jessamine who leaned back with two bottles of wine, their slim necks held together in her free hand.

“Who needs a woman?” Jessamine asked.

“You!” Hafza said, her eyes wide as she pointed a finger.

“Me what?”

They started laughing.

Jessamine turned to Shiro. “What are they laughing at?”

Totally drunk, Shiro had no idea what she was asking about, or that he had a completely stupid smile across his face.

“Gods,” Jessamine said. “Poor Shiro. You’re far drunker than you let on.”

“Did he…?” Hafza began, then her eyes widened. “Did he just pass out?”

Ali laughed, raising his bottle in the air. “MORE WINE FOR US!”