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...
Ali gulped down the burning alcohol, feeling it sluggishly slide down his throat. It was strong. Very strong. He quickly put it down, deciding not to take anymore for fear of becoming intoxicated.
The soldiers around him drank and talked loudly. Ali looked around, his hand gripping his glass, unsure of what to do. The soldiers barely glanced at him as they talked to each other. Ali sighed, knowing he wouldn't get the information Idris had asked him to acquire if he just sulked in a corner.
Hesitantly, he stood up, walking towards one of the more crowded tables. The conversation didn't die down as he approached, only one soldier noticing his arrival. "Can I get a refill of my drink?" Ali asked, smiling.
The soldier, already starting to get drunk, nodded amicably and waved at him to sit down. Ali complied, sighing internally. He pushed his half-full glass towards him, watching as the dark liquid filled it once more. He thanked the solider, taking it back. The air in the room was heavy, stuffy. Ali was starting to sweat. There no windows in this underground area. He unclipped his jacket and folded it, laying it next to him. He inhaled softly before he started listening to the soldiers'a conversions.
Most soldiers were drunk, or getting there. Their words were slurred together, hardly making sense. "Have you seen the new bride?" One of the soldier's rumbled, a hiccup punctuating his question. Ali glanced at him, his hand gripping around the glass tightly. "She was stunning! I peeked through my eyes and saw her for a few seconds!" He continued, a sloppy smile spreading on his cracked lips.
"I wonder what jewel she will be given," another, shorter solider asked.
Ali cocked his head to the side. "What does that mean?" He asked, pretending to take a sip of the liquid.
"Oh right, you're not from here." Ali nodded, tapping his finger against the rough surface of the table. The room was dark, and he couldn't really distinguish the soldiers' features. "Every new bride gets assigned a jewel. A necklace, a ring, a bracelet," the solider said, counting the possibilities on his fingers. "The color of the jewel will determine what color their future clothes will be, as well as how much the sir desires her. You'll never see one of the wives without their particular jewel."
Ali's face distorted into a grimace of disgust for a few moments.
"Oh, about that, did you see? Basma's jewel got changed. She doesn't have the diamond necklace anymore. She has a smaller, glass one now." Another solider said, a mischievous tilt in his voice.
"Oh, that must have hurt!" A solider guffawed.
"So, the merchant can change the jewel?" Ali asked, wanting the situation to be clear.
"Yes. The change of jewel can be both to upgrade the status of a bride or degrade it." The fist soldier said, taking another sip of alcohol.
"And where does the merchant keep all these jewels. If he has so many, it probably must be a huge room, right?" Ali asked, thinking that the lamp was probably kept with all the other valuables. He tried to mask his curiosity with a chuckle. The question was risky, and he knew it, but he hoped they were all too far gone to notice.
One of the drunkest soldiers, his breath heavy with alcohol, and his eyes barely focused, replied. "He keepsh them-hic- somewhere on fhe second flooooor." He drawled, slumping forward. Ali mentally noted it down, watching as the other soldiers glanced at each other, worried: he had revealed something he shouldn't have.
To change the conversation, one of the soldiers swooped in, gesturing to Ali's clothed hand. "What about you, guard? What are you hiding under that?" He said, his eyes curious, almost malicious.
Ali blinked slowly, his hand griping the glass. It took a few seconds to recollect his thoughts before he could finally find anything to say. He chuckled nervously, his hand ghosting over the fabric. "A burn. A very very bad burn." He mused, pretending to look down at it with nostalgia.
Before any of the other soldiers could ask questions, he abruptly stood up, almost turning the chair he had been sitting on. "Where is the restroom? Drank too much of that," he said, gesturing to the alcohol.
"You have to head towards the exit. There's a secondary passage. It's barely visible," one of the soldiers explained.
Ali thanked him with a nod of the head. He walked towards exit, catching sight of passage. Making sure he was out of sight, he went straight outside, stepping inside the garden again. He scanned the surrounding area, locating the stairs the merchant had taken with Idris.
He headed straight that way, reaching the second floor.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
