Read Online Tales of the Djinn: The Double by Emma Holly - Free Book Online
Authors: Emma Holly
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were one too.
He moved his lips on a silent spell, hastily backing his carpet out of viewing range.
Then he flew to the palace like a djinni chased by demons.
~
Nine times out of ten, sultan’s concubines were daughters of noble blood. Rulers exchanged them as diplomatic gifts. For the women, a lifetime spent in a harem, scheming side by side with their rivals to catch the sultan’s eye, was a great privilege. When she was accepted into their ranks, Yasmin had been elated.
Sultan Iksander was so handsome he was called “the Golden,” on top of which he was considered a wise ruler. Aware that she was attractive, Yasmin had looked forward to rising in prestige by bearing a son to him. This would have been a coup. She was only a merchant’s daughter, though her father was important. He’d pioneered a secret process for transporting goods across the perilous nonmaterial “in-betweens” that separated djinn territories with seas of mist. No other firm had her father’s record of successful deliveries, or his reputation for honesty. When Iksander (or possibly his proxy) had consented to take Yasmin, the honor had been her family’s too.
Yasmin hadn’t expected to sleep with the great man exactly once.
Iksander had fallen for his wife Najat before reaching Yasmin in the rotation set by the chief eunuch. From that day until the one his beloved met her untimely death, Iksander was faithful. Following Najat’s murder, the sultan went slightly mad. Night after night, he chose a different member of the harem to sleep with in his smoke form. This was an eccentric practice. Djinn generally made love to each other as solid beings. Yasmin found the experience pleasurable but ultimately disappointing. There’d been no connection between her and Iksander, no true intimacy or bonding. Like the other consorts, she’d been a vessel into which he exorcised his grief. When he’d slept with each female once, he turned that grief elsewhere.
To Yasmin’s mind, she might as well have stayed a virgin.
On the bright side, the sultan’s unconventional behavior had given her an idea. She could escape the harem the same way that he’d come in. Concubines weren’t supposed to want to. Leaving their protected precinct was forbidden. Yasmin didn’t care anymore. Her older brother had turned ifrit. Her younger had thrown off propriety to hang out at view cafés watching humans do silly things. What did it matter if she, her parents’ middle child, rebelled?
A woman could die of boredom waiting for her neglectful master to visit her.
In the beginning, Yasmin was content to explore the palace in the invisible version of her smoke form. The sultan’s complex was huge and there was a lot to see. Eventually, though, the wider world called to her. As a dutiful sheltered daughter, she’d seen little of the Glorious City before she was shut away. Reaching the metropolis was a challenge. Sophisticated spells kept intruders from smoking in or out of the palace. Fortunately, Yasmin’s family had a knack for enchantments. With practice and determination, she perfected her ability to change into a solid form no one would look twice at.
Yasmin the concubine became a shy stray cat.
Delighting in the fiction, she gave herself a crooked black tail, three white socks, and a battle-scarred right ear. She looked a fright, perfectly safe from anyone falling in love with her feline form and wanting to adopt her.
Perhaps her lucky escape from being stuck in stone should have cured her of risk-taking. Instead, the very night her consciousness woke she slipped out again. She couldn’t regret that now. If she hadn’t been pit-patting around the city on her cat paws, she’d never have discovered other citizens besides her brother had disappeared. In truth, there might be more she hadn’t heard about.
She hesitated at the irrigation pipe that was her usual exit from the harem into the palace grounds. Though she was eager to squeeze out, she was a
He moved his lips on a silent spell, hastily backing his carpet out of viewing range.
Then he flew to the palace like a djinni chased by demons.
~
Nine times out of ten, sultan’s concubines were daughters of noble blood. Rulers exchanged them as diplomatic gifts. For the women, a lifetime spent in a harem, scheming side by side with their rivals to catch the sultan’s eye, was a great privilege. When she was accepted into their ranks, Yasmin had been elated.
Sultan Iksander was so handsome he was called “the Golden,” on top of which he was considered a wise ruler. Aware that she was attractive, Yasmin had looked forward to rising in prestige by bearing a son to him. This would have been a coup. She was only a merchant’s daughter, though her father was important. He’d pioneered a secret process for transporting goods across the perilous nonmaterial “in-betweens” that separated djinn territories with seas of mist. No other firm had her father’s record of successful deliveries, or his reputation for honesty. When Iksander (or possibly his proxy) had consented to take Yasmin, the honor had been her family’s too.
Yasmin hadn’t expected to sleep with the great man exactly once.
Iksander had fallen for his wife Najat before reaching Yasmin in the rotation set by the chief eunuch. From that day until the one his beloved met her untimely death, Iksander was faithful. Following Najat’s murder, the sultan went slightly mad. Night after night, he chose a different member of the harem to sleep with in his smoke form. This was an eccentric practice. Djinn generally made love to each other as solid beings. Yasmin found the experience pleasurable but ultimately disappointing. There’d been no connection between her and Iksander, no true intimacy or bonding. Like the other consorts, she’d been a vessel into which he exorcised his grief. When he’d slept with each female once, he turned that grief elsewhere.
To Yasmin’s mind, she might as well have stayed a virgin.
On the bright side, the sultan’s unconventional behavior had given her an idea. She could escape the harem the same way that he’d come in. Concubines weren’t supposed to want to. Leaving their protected precinct was forbidden. Yasmin didn’t care anymore. Her older brother had turned ifrit. Her younger had thrown off propriety to hang out at view cafés watching humans do silly things. What did it matter if she, her parents’ middle child, rebelled?
A woman could die of boredom waiting for her neglectful master to visit her.
In the beginning, Yasmin was content to explore the palace in the invisible version of her smoke form. The sultan’s complex was huge and there was a lot to see. Eventually, though, the wider world called to her. As a dutiful sheltered daughter, she’d seen little of the Glorious City before she was shut away. Reaching the metropolis was a challenge. Sophisticated spells kept intruders from smoking in or out of the palace. Fortunately, Yasmin’s family had a knack for enchantments. With practice and determination, she perfected her ability to change into a solid form no one would look twice at.
Yasmin the concubine became a shy stray cat.
Delighting in the fiction, she gave herself a crooked black tail, three white socks, and a battle-scarred right ear. She looked a fright, perfectly safe from anyone falling in love with her feline form and wanting to adopt her.
Perhaps her lucky escape from being stuck in stone should have cured her of risk-taking. Instead, the very night her consciousness woke she slipped out again. She couldn’t regret that now. If she hadn’t been pit-patting around the city on her cat paws, she’d never have discovered other citizens besides her brother had disappeared. In truth, there might be more she hadn’t heard about.
She hesitated at the irrigation pipe that was her usual exit from the harem into the palace grounds. Though she was eager to squeeze out, she was a
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