can make food and drink out of thin air, why hasn’t Jafar been doing just that? He was tossing bread to everyone at the parades, but that seems to have stopped. Now it’s being rationed…he’s only handing it out to people who stand in line and swear loyalty. And that whole thing with the inflation of gold has been making it hard for people to obtain food otherwise. Couldn’t he—or you—solve that with a wave of your hand?”
“Aha, smart lady,” the genie said, a smile of genuine warmth taking the place of his usual sardonic look. “The laws of magic aren’t as simple as I may have made it seem. Even the most powerful sorcerers in the world cannot just summon infinite amounts of anything into existence forever—it has to come from somewhere. And gold is far more simple, in its own way, than bread and meat.”
“All right, but you could do it, couldn’t you? You did it before. That’s what separates a genie—uh, a djinn—from a sorcerer, right? You’re way more powerful?”
The genie pretended to look embarrassed by the praise, flushing. “Why, yes, I could. But Jafar’s two wishes were fairly explicit. One could assume making him sultan involves the occasional parade and accompanying handouts. It might also come with his own personal disposable army. It does not, however, mean standing next to him and summoning meal after meal for everyone like some cafeteria lady.”
“A what?”
“Nothing, never mind. The point is, if he were very clever and found a historic precedent, perhaps he could get me to do that. But he’s not and I’m not making it easy for him. And on top of that…Jafar doesn’t want to give out infinite amounts of free food.”
“But why?”
“It’s the bait.” The genie mimed releasing the line of a fishing pole. A pole appeared in his hands, of course—with a giant fish at the end of it that looked a little too much like an average citizen of Agrabah. “Everyone grabs the free food and gold and bam, he’s hooked them.” He jerked the line. The fish flopped onto the floor. “Now he just reels them in. Or tightens the noose.”
The genie frowned, contemplating metaphors. Suddenly, the fish-person looked like a rabbit-person, with a noose around its neck.
“This isn’t really working for me,” the genie decided with a sigh. All of his props, including the rabbit, vanished. “Switching topics to a slightly more evil form of magic…a caravan is arriving from Carcossa three nights from now, when the moon is at a perfect quarter. It’s got a load of books and other magical bric-a-brac in it. I think this may be the big one. The one with Al Azif.”
“Why weren’t you sent with the caravan this time, to defend it?”
“What Jafar is looking for may not be found in, how do I put this, human realms at all. Let’s just leave it at this: djinn don’t really travel to Carcossa very well. Matter of fact, no one does. Go easy on the guards when you take them down,” the genie said with a shudder.
“All right. Thank you,” Jasmine said, toasting him with her tea. She took a sip. It was hot and honeyed, perfectly comforting. “And thank you for returning Rajah, and telling us about Al Azif, and…everything else. We owe you so much.”
The genie shrugged. “This is a pretty nasty situation. Just get the bad guy. Maybe set me free? Anyway, it’s all good karma.”
Jasmine tilted her head, looking at him. “How are you holding up?” she asked gently.
“Oh, as well as can be expected,” he said, waving his hand. “Considering I’m, like, the last of my race, enslaved to an insane, power hungry, evil—did I say evil?—dictator with delusions of godhood…who won’t even make his final insane third wish and let me off the hook from all this. Maybe my next master will be someone nicer. Like the sadistic tyrant of a kingdom of vampires. Or something.”
“What would you do?” Jasmine asked curiously. “If you were free?”
“I’d travel,” the genie answered promptly. “I’d get as far away as possible from here—and from my memories here. It’s too much. Maybe I could come back someday, but there’s a lot out there to see first. Snow, for instance. I’d kind of like to see that.”
“I don’t know if I could ever leave Agrabah,” Jasmine said with a wistful sigh. “It’s so beautiful, and there’s so much to do.”
“Well, better here than Roanoke,” the genie said, clicking his tongue. “No one ever figures