Warning: This chapter has scenes with violence and cruelty. This story also contains derogatory comments to portray the state of mind of the master. They do not reflect the opinion of the author.
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Snuggling into the soft pillows, Laresa sighed. She had been around humans for a long time now, so she noticed the passage of time even if it didn't affect her. Sometimes memories of past Masters or Mistresses made her aware that she herself was not bound by the flow of history like they were. With a smile she thought of Famke, the one that had wished to be back in time. Laresa remembered the girl who had become a friend during their time together with fondness. That triggered a memory of James - the Master with whom she had shared true love. When the face of Horace popped into her head, unbidden, she quickly pushed it firmly aside. Nothing but sadness waited for her along that path. She plumped up the pillows to take a nap when a sudden tugging signaled a new owner of the ring.
"Shit!"
Daniel caught the rattling pot before it thudded against the door. It wouldn't do to announce his presence. He was sure nobody had seen him entering the shop or the backroom, but you never knew. Before he put the pot back on the bench that ran along the entire back of the room, he looked inside to see what had caused the noise. He fished out a ring with a large amber stone, which sparkled in the dim light.
"Nice, Lee, very nice."
He pocketed the ring and turned slowly around to survey the tiny space. Dried herbs filled the air with their fragrance, and the myriad jars and bottles seemed to wink at him as they caught the light from the lantern he held above his head.
"Now where did that bastard hide his cash?"
He spotted a likely box under the bench. The surface was shiny with red lacquer, inlaid with intricate patterns of gold and black. It looked like one of those Chinese boxes you could only open when you solved some kind of puzzle. Sure enough, the lid didn't budge an inch.
Grinning, Daniel tucked the box under his arm. He cast a last look around the workspace of the healer and pushed the dead body out of the way with the tip of his boot.
"Sorry, Lee, you really should have paid my price."
Daniel patted the pocket of his silk waist-coat. The slight bulge of the merchandise he had retrieved from the corpse made him smile. There were users enough to sell the opium at a nice profit. The only thing he had to do was stay out of sight from the governor's men when he made his deal.
Slipping into the shadows of the shop in the front, Daniel doused the lantern and left it behind the counter. He stood for a few minutes, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, listening to the sounds of the hawkers outside. It was a few hours after sundown and the Javanese were crowding the streets, selling everything from silverware to fresh coconuts and roasted meat. In fact, Daniel could smell the ever present saté from where he stood. As he closed the shop door softly behind him, he spotted the vendor across the street. The bamboo sticks with meat lay sizzling on top of the small brazier.
"Better not."
Still muttering, Daniel turned a corner, telling himself he should get out of the neighborhood as quickly as he could. It would be stupid to let the natives see him too clearly. He wasn't the only Tuan Besar, Grand Master, to visit the slums, but he was careful to hide his face. Lee had been a rather well-known healer. His death would upset the Chinese community even more, coming so close after that idiot new Governor-General had decided to make the selling of opium the prerogative of the VOC.
"Stupid Van Imhoff."
Daniel kicked a beggar out of the way as he hastened to his residence. He had to walk home. Taking a becak, a runner to bring him home in one of those two-wheel contraptions would only serve to attract attention to the fact he had been out. He clutched the box under his arm, using his free hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. The heat of the day was trapped in the alleys and tiny backstreets, the air hot and filled with the smells of food, spices and humanity.
Finally, Daniel closed the door of his library behind him. He'd shouted the babu, the maid, away. He would get to her later, after he had solved the puzzle. He tossed his straw hat on the day bed, the silk ribbon inside dark from his sweat. His coat and waist-coat followed, together with his cravat. A light clinking sound alerted him to the ring he had pocketed rolling out of his waist-coat. It came to rest in front of his boots, the amber stone a pale spot on the dark wooden floor. He picked it up and grinned as he put it on his little finger. Stretching his hand to pour a shot of gin he admired the jewel for a moment. With a sigh, he sank down in his smoking chair, stretching his legs in front of him.
He sipped from his gin from time to time as he examined the Chinese box. He knew he had to shift some part of the inlay but which one? After pushing and shoving this part and that for more than an hour he still hadn't been able to open the box. It had weight and something inside rattled a bit; he was sure it was filled with money. He put the box on the floor and sat staring at it, turning the ring on his finger round and back again.
"Yes, Master?"
Daniel jumped out of his chair, his hand reaching for the knife in his boot when he saw a strange woman standing in front of the day bed.
"Who are you? How did you get in?" His voice was low and dangerous.
"I'm Laresa, Master. You called me."
"I don't think so, missy. How did you come here?"
"You called me, Master, by turning the ring."
"The ring? What do you mean ..."
Daniel glanced from the woman to the now dull amber stone and back again.
"You're part of the ring?" He laughed then, but it was not a very pleasant sound. "I stole a ring with magic? Now that is interesting."
He sat down again and examined the figure still standing there. She was a slim woman, but with curves in all the right places. Too bad her skin was so light, and her hair! It looked like silver. Ugh!
"So, Laresa, are you what those Javanese call their spiritual force, their keramat?"
The woman shook her head. "No, Master. I'm a genie. I come from the ring." She pointed at his hand.
"A genie, eh? Does that mean I can make wishes?"
Laresa sighed. "Yes, Master. I can make most of your wishes come true, but ..."
Daniel interrupted her. "Prove it. Open that box for me." He shoved the Chinese box with his foot in her direction.
"It's done." Her voice had lost its warmth and she stood still like a statue.
Dear spirits, how did I come to someone like him? He's a killer and his soul is evil. I'm supposed to be a help for those in need. Alex made me see how I became a sacrifice, but not for people like this Daniel. I'm so sick of serving greedy men, and women.
Laresa clamped her mouth shut. She wouldn't volunteer any information to this scumbag.
Daniel heard the soft click when one of the side panels on the box moved to the left and the top slid to the right. The patterns on the top had been nothing but a hoax, a clever disguise. With a grin he picked up the box and looked inside. Then the box sailed through the air, forcing the genie to duck aside. The sound of splintering wood was nearly drowned out by the venomous swearing.
"That filthy chink, the bastard hid his money someplace else."
Daniel pointed at Laresa. "You, get rid of that box. It holds nothing but worthless bones. No doubt from his whore of a mother. And fix me a decent drink. French brandy."
Fuming with anger, Daniel picked up the delicate snifter of brandy that appeared on the side table and hurled it at the wall. A shard of glass cut his cheek, but he was oblivious to the pain. He grabbed the rowan cane that stood against his desk and cut the air with vicious slashes.
"Get the babu over here." When he saw Laresa frown, he shouted: "Now!"
I'm in Batavia. It's the year 1745. He must be one of the civil servants for the VOC.
The cane whistled down and hit the genie on the shoulder, nearly breaking her collar bone.
