Arabian Nights

Chapter 5

Virgil pulled on the hood of his cape gingerly as he snuck down the servant stairs. The hem of the cape whispered against the back of his calves with each step he took. Damn, where was Janus? He'd said he was going to come up to Virgil's room at nine.

Nine o'clock had come and gone and no Janus. Well, Virgil was going to get out of this palace with or without his help.

Virgil got to the bottom of the servant stairs and silently thanked whoever had designed the palace that the stairs led straight into the kitchen. From here, he could cross through easily to the delivery entrance and then out into Agrabah!

The kitchen was a small corridor that led into a great circular room. Virgil had just crossed the threshold into the kitchen when he looked up and realised exactly where Janus had been.

Janus had some poor, blushing kitchen boy trapped against a wall. He had one hand by the boy's head and one hand on the boy's jaw. Virgil mimed gagging for his own amusement before knocking on the wall beside him.

Both Janus and the kitchen boy looked around. Janus raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. Virgil gestured to the door. Janus sighed and turned back to the boy.

"And if anyone wants to know, what did you see?" Janus asked the boy. The boy took a few seconds before answering, swallowing and staring obviously at Janus' lips.

Virgil gagged again.

"Nothing," the boy said eventually. Janus smiled and patted the boy on the cheek gently.

"Thank you, darling." Then, with a wiggle of his fingers, he'd left the boy and disappeared through the delivery entrance. Virgil rolled his eyes and swept past the blushing servant boy. He didn't spare him so much as a glance as he ran out into the night.

"You didn't have to put on so much of a show," he muttered to Janus. "I'm going to need my eyes washed after that."

"I was buying us a fail-safe," Janus said. "In case we're not back before the morning. Besides," he fixed his gloves, "he owes me a favour."

For the third time that evening, Virgil over-dramatically gagged. Janus glared at him.

"If you want, your Highness-"

"Don't call me that," Virgil interrupted. "We're going into a crowd filled with pickpockets and thieves, aren't we?"

"Yes?"

"Then being the Crown Prince doesn't seem like such a good idea," Virgil said. He paused for thought. "Just call me Virgil. Or Virge."

Janus did not look too impressed. "Right." He shook his hair away from his face. "If you want, Virge, you don't have to come along. I can scale that wall on my own and leave you here to watch the fireworks from your balcony like you do every year."

"I never said that," Virgil said, pointing at Janus. "I just said you didn't have to put on such a show."

"There's nothing wrong with a flair for theatre," Janus scoffed. "You just don't have taste. Now, come on. Fireworks start at midnight but they're not the only explosive thing going on in Agrabah on New Year's Eve."

As Janus walked away, Virgil rolled his eyes. "You aren't as mysterious as you think you are," he called after his friend. Then, checking all around him, he ran to catch up.

Agrabah was always alive at the end of the year. Brimming with magicians, performers, story-tellers, there was someone on every street corner. Pop-up stalls lined the streets in front of buildings that ranged from ramshackle towers to squatting shacks. They sold everything from fake gold to bright red apples that glistened in the light of the hundreds of lanterns that lined the streets.

Janus took a deep breath. The mixed tang of spices reminded him of home and their one room, sunlight filtering through the window and catching on different strings of pearls, gold and bowls full of jewels. Five kids to the table, one woman - who's face had long faded into the fuzzy blanket of memory - at the huge stove, mixing up a pot of something that smelt Heavenly and tasted even better.

To pull himself out of his memories, Janus glanced down to check on his short companion. Virgil looked every part the fish out of water. His eyes were as wide as they could go and he seemed to be trying to drink in every single detail. Everything fascinated him and he turned in a slow circle when Janus stopped to adjust his tunic.

Virgil caught Janus looking at him and his wide-eyed expression narrowed to a glare. "What?"

"Nothing." Janus laughed and shook his head. He pushed Virgil into a wall playfully. "Virge."

"Oh, shut up!" But Virgil was laughing too.

Janus shook his head again and looked away. His interest was piqued by a large group crowded around the corner of a deserted house. He tapped Virgil on the shoulder lightly and wandered over.

"The magic that bound the genie was so strong and so unbreakable that he had no choice but to remain in the lamp!" The story-teller seemed completely wrapped up in his own story, green eyes wide and excited in the dim light of his single lantern.

Janus crossed his arms and leaned into a more relaxed posture as he watched the boy speak. He was waving his arms crazily and drawing in the dust in front of him with his finger. Every so often, he would run his hand through his crazy brown hair, making it stand out at even more extreme angles.

Janus laughed a little and gestured to the boy. "Hey, Virge, what do you think?" He asked. "Pretty cute, huh?"

No reply.

"Virge-" Janus looked down.

Virgil wasn't there.

ANOTHER chapter that was meant to be short but is, in fact, nearly 1,000 words. The things motivation will do to ya.
Bye,
Blaize