A/N: Here we go, just for you, Kuro, for being such a good fan :) I'm sorry it too me so long to update this, but the truth is that I forgot the plot line that i was going with. Forgot is completely :P But fortunately, I came up with something else when I turned it over in my head. Yay! Anyhoo, here's hoping for lots of lovely reviews for our djinni and their boys, and I hope everybody had a great Thanksgiving. -DL
Oh, if anybody wants to read the first two stories in this series, you can purchase them here: http://dlsyaoi-polloi.weebly.com/ - They are Genie in a Bottle and the sequel, Djinn & Tonic
Chapter 3
Azarael left soon afterward, and Trey curled up into a fetal ball on the couch and began to cry. Azhim stood over him, feeling helpless and enraged over that fact, not sure what to do to comfort Trey. As if there WAS any way to comfort him, in this horrible situation. He couldn’t give Trey his word that he wouldn’t do what the afreet wanted - because if he did not do as Azarael said, Trey would die. And he could not allow that.
But at the same time, he was well aware that if he did as Azarael wanted, while Trey would live all of the heart would go out of the human. He’d never be able to live with the fact that it was because of him that other humans had died. Azhim knew with grim certainty that he’d have no chance of talking Trey into accepting the semi-immortality of his ‘out of time’ spell if he committed the heinous act that would save Trey’s life, because the human would not want to live practically forever with that on his conscience. So, whether now or forty years from now, he would lose his Master one way or the other. Curse that wretched afreet! How Azhim loathed him!
He needed to talk to someone, to get some advice. He needed to go and speak with his friend and former lover Hajji, who had always been more practical than he was. Azhim bent over Trey, reaching out to lightly touch his shoulder. “It will be all right, Trey,” he crooned. “I will find some way out of this situation, I promise you. For now, I am going over to talk to Hajji. I will send Bryan to you.”
The miserable human didn’t reply, only kept on crying into the pillow he was clutching. Azhim’s own heart twisted in his chest. He straightened up and walked out the front door, knowing that there was nothing else that he could do or say that would reassure Trey right now. The human knew him only too well; he was aware of the lengths that Azhim would go to to save his life. He would just have to make sure that it never reached that point. Living with a heartbroken Trey would be even worse than the centuries he’d spent enslaved in his bottle.
Azhim went up the front walk of the house next door, where Trey’s friend Bryan lived with his own personal servant/lover Hajji. He knocked sharply on the door, his fist rattling the door in its frame. It swung open, and Hajji stood there frowning at him. “Why are you attempting to break down our front door, Azhim?” he growled.
“We have a problem, Hajji,” Azhim replied grimly.
Hajji’s face changed to an expression of concern as he studied Azhim's face. “Bad?” he asked succinctly.
“Very bad.”
“Come in, then, and tell me,” Hajji stepped back to let him in, and Azhim strode into the house.
Right there in the front hall, he briefly outlined what had just happened over at their house. Hajji was horrified when Azhim told him of the visit by an afreet, and that look of horror deepened on his face when the other djinn told him what Azarael required to release Trey from his spell. “Azhim, you cannot do this,” Hajji said once he was finished talking. “Master Trey would be devastated.”
“I am aware of that fact, Hajji,” Azhim snapped. “That is why I have come to talk this over with you. You’ve always been the sensible one of the pair of us. I’m hoping that you can help me come up with some alternatives to my bringing the bridge down and killing many humans.”
Hajji nodded. “We’ll come up with something, Azhim,” he replied. “We’re sure to.”
“In the meantime, I think we should sent your Master over to comfort Trey. He will not accept it from me right now, and I do not wish to leave him alone,” Azhim said.
“Of course. Let us inform Master Bryan of your plight,” Hajji bustled away into the living room, where his Master was sitting on the couch flipping through the TV channels idly.
“Hey, Telly, what’s up?” Bryan said casually as his djinn entered the room. Then he saw Azhim coming in behind Hajji, and the look on the other djinn’s face. He straightened up and said alertly: “What’s going on? Hajji? Azhim?”
Azhim replied brusquely: “Something has happened, Bryan.”
“To Trey? Is he all right?” Bryan asked anxiously, jumping to his feet.
“Yes, he is fine. For now,” Azhim said. “Let me tell you what has happened.”
He ran through the story once again, with Bryan listening intently. The human looked just as horrified as Hajji had. “But Azhim, you CAN’T do that! Trey would freak out if you did!” He cried wildly.
“Yes, I know,” Azhim rasped, his patience all but spent. “That is why I came over to consult with Hajji. To come up with alternate plans. Would you please go and sit with Trey while we do so? Keep him company, and try to get him to believe that I will not do as Azarael wishes? He needs you.”
“Right, I’m on it! You guys come up with something good, because killing a bunch of humans to save Trey isn’t going to fly with him.” He waved a hand at both of them before he sped out of the house, intent on comforting and consoling his poor friend.
Left alone in the living room, the two djinni looked at each other. “Well, it is up to us to extricate ourselves - and Master Trey - from this difficulty,” Hajji remarked. “Although it is not just for his benefit that it is wise for us to come up with some way of thwarting this afreet, Azhim,” he added thoughtfully. “While he has given his word that he will remove the spell on Master Trey’s heart once you destroy the bridge, what is to stop him from recasting it once again when he wishes you to do something else for him? After all, he did NOT give his word to never be spell Master Trey again once he has removed the spell. You could find yourself permanently under his control, if you do as he wishes this time. You would be a slave again, and too a much worse master than any that you have had before.”
Azhim felt a chill race up his spine at Hajji’s words. His friend was right - the afreet would have total control over him while he held Trey’s life in his hands. Something had to be done about the afreet, and permanently, or otherwise his life would not be worth living. “We must find a way to neutralize Azarael,” he mused aloud.
“Yes, that is the only solution,” Hajji agreed readily. “Only if he is unable to use his powers will Master Trey - and thus you - be safe from him.”
“But how?!” Azhim began to pace back and forth, scowling at the far wall. “Our magic does not affect an afreet. We cannot be spell or chain him, not magically. And our physical strength means nothing against a creature of such strong magical powers. It isn’t as though we can throw him in chains, because the chains would not hold him without magic. And once again, our magic is useless against him.”
“It is really too bad that our Creator is gone,” Hajji said ruefully. “Even creatures as powerful as we were easily imprisoned by the vessels He created.”
Azhim stopped in his tracks, an arrested look on his face. “Our vessels,” he repeated slowly. “Our vessels.”
“What is it, Azhim?” Hajji asked him.
“That’s it,” Azhim hissed, his eyes narrowing. “Our vessels are the answer, Hajji.”
“I don’t understand,” his friend said, bewildered. “What do you mean?”
Azhim whirled around and pointed a clawed finger at him. “Our vessels! Or more specifically, MY vessel! Master Trey kept it as a souvenir after he wished me to be free of it. It’s in the house, on the mantle in the living room. Think about it, Hajji! We can imprison Azarael in my bottle!”
Hajji’s mouth dropped open. “How could we possibly do that?” he asked. “Your vessel is tuned to you, to your magical essence, Azhim.”
“No, not anymore,” he replied triumphantly. “That tuning was stripped from the bottle when Master Trey wished me to be free. Now it is a blank slate. All we need to do is use something of Azarael’s to tune the bottle to him, instead - and we can trap him in it for all time.”
Hajji nodded slowly. “I think it could be done,” he said thoughtfully. “But what of the afreet’s can we use...” he trailed off, and his eyes filled with a victorious gleam. “His blood, Azhim!” He cried. “His blood! All we would have to do is spill a few drops of his blood onto the vessel, and we can tune it magically to his life essence!”
Azhim grinned toothily. “Then that’s what we’ll do,” he said in satisfaction.
Hajji waved a clawed hand at him. “But how? It’s not as though he’s likely to donate his blood so that you can imprison him in your bottle,” he pointed out.
“You’re absolutely right. So this is what we’re going to do,” Azhim replied, and proceeded to tell him the plan that he’d come up with in an instant when Hajji had mentioned his bottle.
Bryan knelt down next to the couch and stroked Trey’s shaking shoulders with his hands. “Please don’t cry, Trey,” he begged his friend. “Everything’s going to be all right.”
“No, it’s not!” Trey wailed, lifting his red, tear-stained face from the pillow at last. “It’s not, Bry! Azhim will do what that horrible demon guy wants, and a whole bunch of people are going to die! And it will be all my fault!” he added, his face scrunching up as he began to sob again pitifully.
Bryan enclosed him in a tight hug. “It won’t be your fault, Trey,” he said stoutly into the wavy, strawberry-blonde hair. “None of this is your fault. That demon is just using you to force Azhim to do something that he wouldn’t do otherwise, not in a million years. Because he knows that you wouldn’t be able to stand it. He knows that, Trey. That’s why we have to have some faith and let our boys come up with a plan to take care of this demon guy. I know I might rag on them, but Hajji especially is really smart. I’m sure that he can come up with something so that Azhim doesn’t have to do what this demon guy wants him to do.”
“Do you think so?” Trey asked against his shirt front, in a little voice that ached with the wish to hope.
“I do, I really do,” Bryan replied stoutly. “And you should, too, Trey. Because what’s the alternative? Just give up and wait for Azhim to do something horrible? We can’t give up hope. If those djinni can make your dreams come true, surely they can come up with a way to save your life without having to kill a bunch of other people, right?”
Oh, if anybody wants to read the first two stories in this series, you can purchase them here: http://dlsyaoi-polloi.weebly.com/ - They are Genie in a Bottle and the sequel, Djinn & Tonic
Chapter 3
Azarael left soon afterward, and Trey curled up into a fetal ball on the couch and began to cry. Azhim stood over him, feeling helpless and enraged over that fact, not sure what to do to comfort Trey. As if there WAS any way to comfort him, in this horrible situation. He couldn’t give Trey his word that he wouldn’t do what the afreet wanted - because if he did not do as Azarael said, Trey would die. And he could not allow that.
But at the same time, he was well aware that if he did as Azarael wanted, while Trey would live all of the heart would go out of the human. He’d never be able to live with the fact that it was because of him that other humans had died. Azhim knew with grim certainty that he’d have no chance of talking Trey into accepting the semi-immortality of his ‘out of time’ spell if he committed the heinous act that would save Trey’s life, because the human would not want to live practically forever with that on his conscience. So, whether now or forty years from now, he would lose his Master one way or the other. Curse that wretched afreet! How Azhim loathed him!
He needed to talk to someone, to get some advice. He needed to go and speak with his friend and former lover Hajji, who had always been more practical than he was. Azhim bent over Trey, reaching out to lightly touch his shoulder. “It will be all right, Trey,” he crooned. “I will find some way out of this situation, I promise you. For now, I am going over to talk to Hajji. I will send Bryan to you.”
The miserable human didn’t reply, only kept on crying into the pillow he was clutching. Azhim’s own heart twisted in his chest. He straightened up and walked out the front door, knowing that there was nothing else that he could do or say that would reassure Trey right now. The human knew him only too well; he was aware of the lengths that Azhim would go to to save his life. He would just have to make sure that it never reached that point. Living with a heartbroken Trey would be even worse than the centuries he’d spent enslaved in his bottle.
Azhim went up the front walk of the house next door, where Trey’s friend Bryan lived with his own personal servant/lover Hajji. He knocked sharply on the door, his fist rattling the door in its frame. It swung open, and Hajji stood there frowning at him. “Why are you attempting to break down our front door, Azhim?” he growled.
“We have a problem, Hajji,” Azhim replied grimly.
Hajji’s face changed to an expression of concern as he studied Azhim's face. “Bad?” he asked succinctly.
“Very bad.”
“Come in, then, and tell me,” Hajji stepped back to let him in, and Azhim strode into the house.
Right there in the front hall, he briefly outlined what had just happened over at their house. Hajji was horrified when Azhim told him of the visit by an afreet, and that look of horror deepened on his face when the other djinn told him what Azarael required to release Trey from his spell. “Azhim, you cannot do this,” Hajji said once he was finished talking. “Master Trey would be devastated.”
“I am aware of that fact, Hajji,” Azhim snapped. “That is why I have come to talk this over with you. You’ve always been the sensible one of the pair of us. I’m hoping that you can help me come up with some alternatives to my bringing the bridge down and killing many humans.”
Hajji nodded. “We’ll come up with something, Azhim,” he replied. “We’re sure to.”
“In the meantime, I think we should sent your Master over to comfort Trey. He will not accept it from me right now, and I do not wish to leave him alone,” Azhim said.
“Of course. Let us inform Master Bryan of your plight,” Hajji bustled away into the living room, where his Master was sitting on the couch flipping through the TV channels idly.
“Hey, Telly, what’s up?” Bryan said casually as his djinn entered the room. Then he saw Azhim coming in behind Hajji, and the look on the other djinn’s face. He straightened up and said alertly: “What’s going on? Hajji? Azhim?”
Azhim replied brusquely: “Something has happened, Bryan.”
“To Trey? Is he all right?” Bryan asked anxiously, jumping to his feet.
“Yes, he is fine. For now,” Azhim said. “Let me tell you what has happened.”
He ran through the story once again, with Bryan listening intently. The human looked just as horrified as Hajji had. “But Azhim, you CAN’T do that! Trey would freak out if you did!” He cried wildly.
“Yes, I know,” Azhim rasped, his patience all but spent. “That is why I came over to consult with Hajji. To come up with alternate plans. Would you please go and sit with Trey while we do so? Keep him company, and try to get him to believe that I will not do as Azarael wishes? He needs you.”
“Right, I’m on it! You guys come up with something good, because killing a bunch of humans to save Trey isn’t going to fly with him.” He waved a hand at both of them before he sped out of the house, intent on comforting and consoling his poor friend.
Left alone in the living room, the two djinni looked at each other. “Well, it is up to us to extricate ourselves - and Master Trey - from this difficulty,” Hajji remarked. “Although it is not just for his benefit that it is wise for us to come up with some way of thwarting this afreet, Azhim,” he added thoughtfully. “While he has given his word that he will remove the spell on Master Trey’s heart once you destroy the bridge, what is to stop him from recasting it once again when he wishes you to do something else for him? After all, he did NOT give his word to never be spell Master Trey again once he has removed the spell. You could find yourself permanently under his control, if you do as he wishes this time. You would be a slave again, and too a much worse master than any that you have had before.”
Azhim felt a chill race up his spine at Hajji’s words. His friend was right - the afreet would have total control over him while he held Trey’s life in his hands. Something had to be done about the afreet, and permanently, or otherwise his life would not be worth living. “We must find a way to neutralize Azarael,” he mused aloud.
“Yes, that is the only solution,” Hajji agreed readily. “Only if he is unable to use his powers will Master Trey - and thus you - be safe from him.”
“But how?!” Azhim began to pace back and forth, scowling at the far wall. “Our magic does not affect an afreet. We cannot be spell or chain him, not magically. And our physical strength means nothing against a creature of such strong magical powers. It isn’t as though we can throw him in chains, because the chains would not hold him without magic. And once again, our magic is useless against him.”
“It is really too bad that our Creator is gone,” Hajji said ruefully. “Even creatures as powerful as we were easily imprisoned by the vessels He created.”
Azhim stopped in his tracks, an arrested look on his face. “Our vessels,” he repeated slowly. “Our vessels.”
“What is it, Azhim?” Hajji asked him.
“That’s it,” Azhim hissed, his eyes narrowing. “Our vessels are the answer, Hajji.”
“I don’t understand,” his friend said, bewildered. “What do you mean?”
Azhim whirled around and pointed a clawed finger at him. “Our vessels! Or more specifically, MY vessel! Master Trey kept it as a souvenir after he wished me to be free of it. It’s in the house, on the mantle in the living room. Think about it, Hajji! We can imprison Azarael in my bottle!”
Hajji’s mouth dropped open. “How could we possibly do that?” he asked. “Your vessel is tuned to you, to your magical essence, Azhim.”
“No, not anymore,” he replied triumphantly. “That tuning was stripped from the bottle when Master Trey wished me to be free. Now it is a blank slate. All we need to do is use something of Azarael’s to tune the bottle to him, instead - and we can trap him in it for all time.”
Hajji nodded slowly. “I think it could be done,” he said thoughtfully. “But what of the afreet’s can we use...” he trailed off, and his eyes filled with a victorious gleam. “His blood, Azhim!” He cried. “His blood! All we would have to do is spill a few drops of his blood onto the vessel, and we can tune it magically to his life essence!”
Azhim grinned toothily. “Then that’s what we’ll do,” he said in satisfaction.
Hajji waved a clawed hand at him. “But how? It’s not as though he’s likely to donate his blood so that you can imprison him in your bottle,” he pointed out.
“You’re absolutely right. So this is what we’re going to do,” Azhim replied, and proceeded to tell him the plan that he’d come up with in an instant when Hajji had mentioned his bottle.
Bryan knelt down next to the couch and stroked Trey’s shaking shoulders with his hands. “Please don’t cry, Trey,” he begged his friend. “Everything’s going to be all right.”
“No, it’s not!” Trey wailed, lifting his red, tear-stained face from the pillow at last. “It’s not, Bry! Azhim will do what that horrible demon guy wants, and a whole bunch of people are going to die! And it will be all my fault!” he added, his face scrunching up as he began to sob again pitifully.
Bryan enclosed him in a tight hug. “It won’t be your fault, Trey,” he said stoutly into the wavy, strawberry-blonde hair. “None of this is your fault. That demon is just using you to force Azhim to do something that he wouldn’t do otherwise, not in a million years. Because he knows that you wouldn’t be able to stand it. He knows that, Trey. That’s why we have to have some faith and let our boys come up with a plan to take care of this demon guy. I know I might rag on them, but Hajji especially is really smart. I’m sure that he can come up with something so that Azhim doesn’t have to do what this demon guy wants him to do.”
“Do you think so?” Trey asked against his shirt front, in a little voice that ached with the wish to hope.
“I do, I really do,” Bryan replied stoutly. “And you should, too, Trey. Because what’s the alternative? Just give up and wait for Azhim to do something horrible? We can’t give up hope. If those djinni can make your dreams come true, surely they can come up with a way to save your life without having to kill a bunch of other people, right?”