Chapter Twenty—While Word Travels

“It’s midday!” Shiro said in exasperation. “How much longer is this going to take?”

Ali was laying on a comfortable piece of furniture of which Shiro didn’t know the term for. He had his ankles crossed. It was a kind of sofa with low arms and without a back. “These things take time,” he said, taking up his glass of fruit juice.

“You made it sound easy,” Shiro said, glancing out across the view.

The day was warm and hot. Stifling hot, but fortunately the wooden rafters above had thick green vines that shaded the terrace quite well, and with the subtle wind, cool drafts came in, making the day bearable.

“Shiro,” Ali said. “Sit down, before you give yourself heat sickness.”

Shiro made a sound of displeasure, but did as his friend directed. He tried to cross his arms as was his way, but the hot touch of his arms against his body was uncomfortable, so he decided to spread his hands out on the cushioned sofa across from Ali.

“Shai’na is a friend,” Ali said. “We can trust her. But she can’t reign in information faster than the word can be carried, yes?”

“Mmm,” Shiro noised deep within his throat.

“Gods it’s hot,” Ali croaked.

I will find you, Jessamine, Shiro swore. No matter what.

“Do you have any ideas about what to do once we find out where they took her?”

“Yes,” Ali said. “We take some of my trusted men and we go get her back. Easy.”

“There you go again, saying it’s easy.”

“It is,” Ali said. “Once we know, we hit them hard. Before they know what’s happening, half of them are dead and we get the lamp back.”

“I didn’t know you thought so violently, Ali.”

“Ha!” he scoffed. “I’m an adventurer. Killing is my profession, and sometimes the killing of men is necessary as well. Remember that time on the road, Shiro?”

“When we were looking for the dungeon Akarilion? Hai.”

“Exactly, my friend.”

He nodded. “Mm.”

“See,” Ali said as he sat up. “You know,” he tapped his temple, “that I have it all figured out.”

“You are a better strategist than I am.”

Ali laughed. “That means a lot, Shiro.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s not delude ourselves. We both know you are far superior to me when it comes to fighting with swords.”

“If you speak of the time when we fought Haydaru and his men, then there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Well,” Ali said, then took a sip of his drink, “I wasn’t speaking specifically of that time, but now that you’ve revealed yourself, tell me what you mean.”

“Mmm,” Shiro said thoughtfully. “I don’t understand it fully myself, but when I have the lamp near me, I am able to draw on some of Jessamine’s magic. She has special magic that increases my ability in a fight. I can move faster, can concentrate better. A normal man… it’s like he’s moving slowly.”

Ali’s eyes widened. “I suppose I can’t say that I’m surprised. A jinni, Shiro. It is considered to be a legendary piece of loot.”

“Jessamine is not loot,” Shiro said. “She is a person, a woman.”

Ali nodded, though Shiro wasn’t certain he understood. But if meeting Jessamine and spending time in her company, even if only for a short period of time, was any way to correct Ali, then Shiro trusted that had been enough for his friend.

“And the Black Cobra still beat you?” he asked.

Just the mere mention of that name brought memories of his last moments with Jessamine. Shiro wanted to grind his teeth.

He said nothing, simply nodded.

Suddenly Ali got up from his lazy position and said, “Follow me. I want to show you something.” Then with a single gulp he finished his pink juice.

Shiro followed him downstairs, then down another flight of stone steps. This area of the house was dark, so Ali had taken a lamp with him.

When they got to the bottom of the steps, Shiro felt a coolness that he hadn’t otherwise felt in Darshuun except for when it was raining the day before.

The day he was utterly defeated by the Black Cobra. The memories were still fresh in his mind.

“Why are we not spending time down here?” Shiro asked.

“It’s a dungeon down here,” Ali said in way of explanation. “This is where the kitchens are and the wine.” To that evidence there were barrels of wine and crates full of various foods.

Ali took him to another area, to a room with a lock. Ali supplied the key from within his tunic and they entered.

Shiro saw the glinting swords on the walls. As Ali lit the lamps in the room, even more war craft became visible. “You have an armory?”

“Well,” Ali said with a shrug, “it’s not like a bought all of this. Most of it is dungeon loot.”

“And that?” Shiro asked, pointing to an exquisitely-crafted scimitar on the wall.

“Oh that? No. A gift from the sultan. Can you believe it?”

Shiro’s heart missed a beat.

“Truly?”

“Indeed, my friend.” He picked it up off the wall and swung the blade about in a few artistically creative arcs. “This is my personal sword, Shiro.”

“How do you get the sultan of the Abassir Empire to give you a scimitar?”

“Here,” Ali said, “try it.” While Shiro tested the sword out, Ali explained. “When you’re rich, Shiro, you have access to different kinds of people. It’s like being in a whole new world, actually.”

“That doesn’t tell me a lot.”

“I just so happened to join in on some well-paying adventuring schemes sponsored by the sultan himself.”

“So that is how you became rich?”

“Yes,” Ali said. “Though you wouldn’t believe what originally got me the leg up, Shiro.”

“What?”

“It was Akarilion.”

“You went back?”

“Oh gods yes!” he exclaimed. “Only a fool wouldn’t go back to a mostly untouched dungeon where the guardian was killed and only one piece of loot—sorry…”

Ali looked genuinely apologetic for calling Jessamine “loot” again.

His mistake didn’t bother Shiro. “It is fine,” he said. “Go on with your story.”

“Well I went back, Shiro.”

“How did you carry everything out?”

Ali laughed. “Not by myself!” he said. “I took the money from those glow stones—I got a hefty sum for them—along with the gold we found, and I bought two strong slaves that could use swords and some camels. I went back. I cleaned out every single chamber I could get my grubby adventurer’s hands on.”

Both men laughed.

“We even skinned Akarilion. The amount of hide material was amazing. I think an armorer bought most of it?” He scratched his temple. “And even the teeth we took.”

“I’m glad that if worked out for you, Ali.”

“Thank you, my friend.”

“Master Ali!” Nusah called from above the stairs. “I have come with messages!”

Shiro jerked his head to the door. Then both men rushed out of the room, Ali stopping to lock up quickly before following Shiro back up the steps.