I huff. So he finally thinks about something other than himself. I am surprised he even thought to ask. “It is my prison. I was trapped there three hundred solar rotations ago.”
Kaelun lets out a low whistle. “Three hundred? That’s a long time. Haven’t you ever tried to get free?”
I stare at him, and if it was in my power to outright attack the holder of the lamp, he would have breathed his last breath already. “Of course I have tried. Nothing works. There is only one thing that will set me free.”
He blinks. “What’s that?”
“If the holder of the lamp wishes for it.”
“Oh.” Kaelun falls silent, and I’m in no mood to make conversation. I make no move to remove myself from his bed or pay him any respect. In that way he is easier to serve than my previous masters. His simple background means he is less entitled. At least there is that. One must be grateful for small mercies, I suppose. My last master would have ordered me back into my lamp if I wasn’t being directly of use to him.
Eventually, Kaelun stands. “I had best get ready for this entertainment. What do you think I should wear? Actually, forget it. Half the things you got for me at the market are women’s clothes. Go find out what the solha is doing but make sure she doesn’t find out the truth about me. She’d never forgive me.”
I roll my eyes. Did I think he was easier to serve? He will have me enslaved to him forever since he seems determined to sabotage his own quest. The solha will certainly not forgive him if he keeps lying to her, but he won’t be told. Reluctantly, I let my body break apart into a wisp of fog on the air and propel myself out of the room and through the palace, searching by taste for the solha.
It doesn’t take me long. I do not need to know my way around her palace to find her when the rich sweetness of her arousal lingers in the air all around me. As I pass through it, it becomes a part of me until I’m bound up with her desire, aching in places that aren’t even corporeal yet. Very soon they will be because I will have to take shape to give vent to this feeling.
I try to concentrate on my task, but my senses are clouded with her. The taste grows richer still, sweeter and fresher, until I slip under the door of an enormous room with a large bed draped in silks and partially covered with hanging curtains. On the bed, a figure sits with her knees tucked up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them.
I drift closer.
Yalina’s lips twist, and a single tear slides down her cheek. “What am I supposed to do now?” she whispers.
She looks so heartbreakingly sad. I let out a tendril of mist to brush her cheek lightly and wipe away the tear.
She starts. Her eyes snap open. “Who’s there?”
Guilt tugs at me. I didn’t mean to let her know I am here, but she is sensitive. If Kaelun thinks lying to her is a good plan, hehas no idea. I knew I was right. “You are safe,” I whisper to her mind.
Her eyes widen, and she looks around the room. She doesn’t find me, of course. I’m invisible. Impossibly tempted, I slide over the curves of her body, gliding across them, feeling them in the only way I can in this form. I cannot help it.
She lets out an unsteady breath. “Who—what are you?”
“A friend.”
“Are you really there?”
I force a little form behind my next caress, and she tilts her cheek to one side as I brush a phantom knuckle against it. “Yes. I am here. Tell me what bothers you.” Though I’d bet another three hundred years I know what it is.
“Can I see you?”
Not unreasonable. But will she recognize me from the throne room? I melded my shape into something human—or resembling human. I could do so again, but more deception is hardly what she deserves.
Decided, I materialize on the bed beside her in my natural corporeal form.
She jumps. Scrambling off the bed, she stares at me open mouthed, but she only stares. She does not run or scream.
Keeping my movements slow, I spread my hands to show her I mean her no harm.
She circles me as far as she can while I’m sitting on her bed, her gaze fixed on me. “A friend you say? I saw you before, but you looked different. Did Prince Noreth send you?”
I wish I could speak the full truth and tell her that’s not his name, but my curse binds me. Instead I sigh. “He did. He wanted to be sure you are not upset.”
“Of course I’m upset!” She throws up her hands. “I thought—well it doesn’t matter. He’s not who I thought.”
I nod thoughtfully. “You have every right to be upset. You are trapped in a situation you do not want. You did not choose.”
Her expression softens. “Yes. How did you know?”
