The tale of the Genie who lost her lamp has been told as a bedtime story for kids for a long time.
The story narrates, that the Genie was beautiful. Her last master fell in deeply love with her, asking her to become his wife. The genie didn't feel...
The villa seemed to approach them too quickly. The lights were strong in the dark night. Ali grimaced, wanting nothing more than to blow out all the candles in that villa in one single breath. The sand made him stumble. His steps were slow, and he trudged uneasily. "Pick up the pace!" He shouted, his voice wavering for a second before he remembered he was meant to be a strong head-guard.
He never liked bossing people around. Even when he was supposed to command his servants to do something for him, his voice would become quiet, and 'please's would drop out of his mouth. His father hated it. He would get a good smack on his cheeks every time this would happen.
He shook his head before any more dark memories seeped into his mind. He started walking, heading straight for the twinkling lights. And right as he approached the door, Ali realized that he and Idris hadn't planned anything; they were going to improvise. A bead of sweat slid down the side of his head. The night was cool but it wasn't helping him. His clothes were stuck to his body.
Almost too soon, the large doors of the villa stood in front of Ali's tired eyes.
The man closed his eyes, and inhaled. "Everything is going to be fine." He told himself, approaching the doors. He gripped the large doorknobs, lifting them with difficulty. The metal was cold. He banged twice, letting his hand drop to his side.
A head poked out from a small window above the doors. "Who goes there?" The soldier called, his voice booming in the silence.
Ali opened his mouth, but felt the words disappear like water in the desert. He didn't know what noble title the lady Idris was impersonating possessed. He racked his brain to find any clue, but there were none to be found.
"I said, who goes there?" The soldier asked again, his voice harsher this time.
Ali cleared his throat. "Merchant Ziyaad el-Kazi new concubine!" Ali bellowed back, hoping it would suffice as an answer.
There was a deafening silence pressing against his ears for a few painful moments. "Open the gates!" The guard yelled. Ali exhaled loudly, another bead of sweat rolling inside his eyes. It burned, and he blinked furiously for a few seconds.
Ali was soon interrupted by the screeching of the doors, opening with the help of six slaves, three on each door. Ali glanced behind him. Had Idris heard him? Probably. He hadn't whispered.
"Start moving!" Ali yelled, making the carrier slaves start moving inside the villa. He stood behind and watched, shouting short commands to prevent them from bumping against the walls. After they had successfully entered, Ali followed behind them, the door screeching shut.
The small group was left alone in the interior courtyard for a few minutes. Ali's eyes danced around, observing his surroundings. It was a small courtyard, another set of smaller, yet still large, blu doors in front of them. It barely had any decorations. The doors in front of them opened as well.
The next courtyard was larger and heavily decorated. This was the courtyard to impress the guests. The floor was covered in beautiful tiles with blue and white swirls. A fountain glittered in the center of the garden. Water was gushing from a genie's lamp. The rock genie holding the lamp smiled coyly at Ali, almost looking real.
"Ah! She is finally here!" A voice called out. Ali turned around, finding a man walking towards them. He was slightly smaller than Ali, and was wearing an expensive, white tunic, embroidered with dark blue flowers. His wrists and ankles were covered in jewels, twinkling as he walked. Unmistakably, he was Ziyaad el-Kazi.
Ali bowed down, unsure if this was the correct procedure, but Ziyaad didn't seem to mind. He waved his wrist. "No need for such formalities. I am simply here to collect my new wife." He said, his lips spreading into a dark smile. "She is a beauty, or so I have heard." He said, approaching the litter. "Put it down." He ordered sternly. The slaves did as they were told, signing in relief. Ziyaad's hands approached the closed doors. Before he opened them, he looked up, staring straight into Ali's eyes. "Look away. She is meant to be admired by my eyes only." He ordered. The other guards in the courtyard had averted their gazes a long time ago.
Ali gritted his teeth and looked down. He heard the doors being opened. He hoped with all his might that Idris hadn't already pulled her knife out. They were inside Ziyaad's house, which was filled with guards, and they didn't even have the faintest idea where the lamp was. He hoped Idris had thought of this.
"Oh..." Ziyaad said. Ali cursed under his breath, ready to grab Idris and bolt. "What a beauty!" The merchant exclaimed, his voice barely audible.
Ali almost sagged to the floor in relief. He relaxed only for a mere moment, before another blade of fear slit his stomach. Where was he going to take her? Ali felt his hand tremble. If he touched her...Ali couldn't even bare to imagine it. He heard the delicate rustle of silk, peeking his eyes open to watch as Idris descended from the litter. Ziyaad's hand was clasped tightly around her wrist. Ali glared at it.
"I will now take my new bride to my chambers. I will not be disturbed." He called, giving his back to Ali. Idris turned to glance at him, her shimmering eyes staring at his pants' pocket. He looked at her, trying to understand what she was trying to say. Idris opened her eyes even more, nodding curtly to his pocket. Ziyaad didn't seem to have noticed the quick exchange, starting to tug Idris away, disappearing into a dark hallway.
Before Idris was swallowed by the darkness, she quickly patted her own leg and then discreetly gestured towards Ali.
Ali understood the moment Idris had vanished. He patted his pocket, feeling a small bulge inside. He quickly dug inside, pulling out a rumpled piece of paper. He opened it, careful not to tear it.
"Ask around. Someone might know something about the lamp." Idris had written.
"When did she...?" He asked himself, glancing at where Idris had been a moment before.
"Hey you! You want a drink? I mean, you're staying here overnight either way! Might as well have fun." A soldier shouted at Ali, gesturing to a small, barely visible door that presumably lead to the soldiers' quarters.
"Staying overnight?" Ali asked, unsure what the other guard meant.
"There's a sandstorm raging outside the walls. You can't possibly go out! It would be the worst decision you could make!" The man said.
Ali looked at the walls behind him, not being able to see beyond them, but the man was probably telling the truth. He nodded slowly. As he approached the soldier, his face turned grim: they were trapped inside the villa.
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