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 man screamed in frustration, the cup of tea in his hand shattering to the floor. The tea spread on the wooden floor. "I was so close to her!" He snarled, thumping against the wall. His eyes were filled with fury. "She will be mine again," he hissed, the promise a dark one he was prepared to accomplish. • • •
Idris slipped between two women talking about a great deal they had just gotten on meat. Ali passed around them instead. The market was busy as always, and the dust path made everyone's clothes yellow. The noise was both loud and low, whispers mixed with the merchants' shouting. Ali rubbed his eyes, trying to avoid the incoming headache.
Idris continued walking, taking sharp turns and avoiding everyone with grace. Ali wasn't doing as well, bumping into people and stalls, apologizing profusely before running after Idris. "Could...we please slow down?" He panted.
"We're here." She said, gesturing to a small stall in a dark corner. No sun was shining on the table or the merchandise laid down. Ali frowned, not really liking this place. The table was near a house, a dark and gloomy doorway leading inside.
"Is it possible that every merchant Idris knows is weird?" He asked himself, sighing quietly.
Idris didn't look worried at all, a smile spreading her lips. "Rashida!" She called, tapping her palm on the table. "Come out, you old hag!" Idris shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth.
An old woman started emerging from the darkness. She stepped out, a pipe stuck between her yellow teeth. She grinned, exhaling a puff of smoke. Ali coughed. "Why does everyone smoke?" He said, slightly exasperated.
"Because it brings peace to the mind, my boy," the woman said, inhaling another puff of smoke. Ali said nothing, grimacing.
Rashida stared at Ali, her eyes gliding from head to toe of the man. A smirk spread on her wrinkled face. "Found a great lover, haven't you Idris?" She barked happily, her voice heavy with smoke.
Ali flushed red, shaking his head quickly. Idris laughed loudly, slapping her leg. "No, old Rashida. He's not that," Idris said, her smile sparkling.
Ali looked down, hiding his face underneath his white turban. Rashida grinned, her eyes glinting. "If you say so," she said slowly. "Anyways, enough with the chit chat! Why did you come see me, girl?" Rashida asked, plopping down on an old, and creaking chair.
Idris's smile dwindle to nothing, becoming serious. He grabbed Ali's hand and showed her it's darkness. Rashida's face changed. Her eyes widened, and the creases around her mouth seemed less. Her hand dropped to the side, and she held her pipe with her mouth, keeping it firmly shut. She leaned in and observed the darkness. "This...this is...a strong curse," Rashida mumbled, the pipe trembling.
Ali looked down. Idris nodded. "Yes. We need a glove. A glove that hides this. Light so it won't make his hand sweat," Idris said.
Rashida glanced at the darkness on Ali's hand, not sure if a light glove would sustain such a curse. She didn't know if his hand stained black. The old woman nodded, breaking her chain of thoughts. "I think...I have what you need," she croaked, slipping into darkness. She came back quickly, holding a black piece of silk. Rashida opened her hands and laid the piece of silk on the table. It was a glove, long enough to cover all the darkness. It was dark, and had golden decorations running all over it. "Put it on," she said.
Ali did as he was told, slipping it on himself. His hands fit perfectly, but around his wrist it was loose, backing it pool around it. Rashida knew it would happen, and had brought a wide cuff armband.. It was big and painted gold. It also had a piece of amber in the center. It glimmered in the sunlight. She opened it, tugged the silk fabric so it was straight, and clipped the armband around Ali's arms. The glove didn't fall anymore, and Ali looked stunning.
Ali looked at his arm, realizing it felt light and it didn't heat up his skin. "Thank you...it's perfect!" Ali said, flexing his slender fingers and noticing that the silk wrapped around them perfectly.
"How much do I owe you, old hag?" Idris asked, grabbing the small bag of money The Seller had given her.
Rashida shook her head, exhaling a puff of smoke. Her traits became invisible and only her voice reached Idris and Ali. "Nothing. It's a present from me," she said, waving away the smoke.
Idris smiled, her hand dropping down to her side. "Thank you. When I come back, I'll get you some good arak." She said.
Rashida wiggled her eyebrows. "You better."
Idris started walking away, waving one last time. Ali turned around, but Rashida had already left. On the bittersweet scent of her tabacco lingered. Ali looked into the darkness, but couldn't see anything. He waved, feeling that Rashida was watching them leave. Ali walked close to Idris. "Should we go back to the inn?" He asked.
Idris was about to answer when she froze. Her eyes darted to the side, glancing at a large man close by. He was about forty years old, with a large beard. He had a black turban on his head, and his double chin wobbled as he spoke. He was standing behind a stall that sold fish. He was had been cleaning a fish, but seemed to have stopped, his blood stained knife dangling in his hand. "They say they've found genie lamp down south, near Sibbafira."
Ali realized why Idris had looked so interested. This was the first hint they had gotten about the genie lamp's location. He couldn't help the smile that crept on his tired face.
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