Tales of the Djinn: The Double by Emma Holly Page A

here: his own bed, his own bath and sitting room, which he’d decorated to suit himself. This apartment was his island apart from the sea of life where other people swam. Here he didn’t worry that he’d never have a wife, that he’d grow old alone without anyone loving him. Here he read his books and he honed his craft. Here he was safe from feeling inferior.
    Tonight, for once, he was reluctant to enter.
    The palace corridor where he stood was dim. The majority of its residents had retired, though the working day had unavoidably been lengthened. Joseph forced his fingers to grasp his door’s flowery knob. It was no use. He couldn’t compel his hand to turn.
    Well, fin e, he thought. He had another task to accomplish, one he’d been putting off.
    He could have sped to his destination in smoke form. Unfortunately, a confrontation with a human sorcerer in Elyse’s realm had jammed his ability to shift. Usually, djinn were spared being bossed around by the simple fact that humans rarely knew they had the potential to do spells. In this case, Joseph hadn’t been so lucky. The human, a tattooed gangster named Mario, had forced Joseph’s smoke into an oil lamp against his will, despite Joseph being the more skilled practitioner. Another human’s aid—Elyse’s—had been needed to free him.
    For now, Joseph had to travel by other means. He signed out a personal flying carpet from the palace’s vehicle stores. The sleepy clerk didn’t challenge him. Everyone was aware of Joseph’s role as the commander’s aide. Joseph appreciated the deference this earned him. Djinn who knew he was a eunuch might whisper their pity behind his back. To his face, however, he was treated with respect.
    The carpet he requisitioned was the size of a small prayer rug. Joseph flew it from the palace up the broad Avenue of Palms. The city seemed untouched from above. The red clay roofs were as picturesque as ever, the golden domes and spires gleaming fancifully beneath a quarter moon. When he landed on its topmost level, he had the Arch of Triumph to himself. Hidden within its structure was the nexus he and Cade had used to reach New York.
    The door to the portal chamber was sealed with powerful spells. Because Joseph had set them in place himself, they were easy to undo.
    The room inside reminded him of old subway stations in Elyse’s home. The walls were tiled, the architectural detail lovely but very cool. The floor and the few plain benches were marble and not cement. Nonetheless, this was not a place where humans or djinn would enjoy lingering.
    Joseph checked the portal first. Its power was drained from sending him and Cade to the human world, resembling a guttering candle instead of a robust sun. He’d already examined the portals in the treasure room at the palace and underneath the Church of Sighs. Their condition was identical.
    Considering half the administration’s mages had turned to stone, three portals were too much to recharge. Joseph had to prioritize. The treasure room’s nexus was the portal Iksander had left from. Reasoning that tracking their missing sultan through the same door he’d used would be easiest, Joseph had tasked the remaining royal magic corps with restoring it.
    The other doors would have to wait.
    His decision reaffirmed, Joseph turned to the object he’d put off surveying.
    A grout-spattered sheet draped the statue of his original. The highest hump, where the cloth fell across his head, wasn’t far off the ground. His body knelt just as it had in the moment he projected the lion’s share of his spirit through the portal and into his copy. Arcadius must have covered his stone remains when he woke up here alone. Joseph supposed this was a compassionate act on his master’s part, like closing the eyes of deceased people—no matter that the dead saw nothing.
    Taking a breath to steady himself, he pulled off the concealing cloth.
    And there he was, eyes closed with concentration, butt on his heels,