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“Are you happy with your wishes, Master?” Asrah asked him.“Very happy,” Daniel smiled.“Then I am happy,” Asrah said, outdoing Daniel with her own smile. “Is there anything else you desire.”“No ... No wait, the rest of that chocolate,” Daniel said. “Feed it to me.”“Yes Master.”Asrah picked up the chocolate, broke a piece off, and placed it into Daniel’s mouth.“This is the life, isn’t it Asrah?”“Yes Master.”Antonella laid in bed that night, worried. There didn’t look to be any way to solve this dilemma. The best she could hope for it seemed was that very few Masters fell for the traps that had been laid for them. Things had all seemed so simple when she’d first met that genie, all those centuries ago. Back before anyone was trying to commit genocide. Well, back before anyone was trying to commit genocide against genies’ Masters.Antonella sat up in bed. She needed to do something. The longer they waited, the more people would suffer. She got out of bed, and snapped her fingers, causing. "So if I go upstairs and check, I'll see you and your blond bombshell sawing away the Zee's in your room?" Yeah, but I hope you don't, because then one of us would vanish," Frank informed him, "and you might not have a guide for this morning."Cook, who had risen even earlier, began to bring platters out to the dining table. Thin slices of roasted something that looked like a slab of bacon filled the room with a mouth-watering aroma. There was also a tuber salad with the texture of lumpy mashed potatoes mixed with thick cream and diced vegetables – it could have been potato salad except for its orange hue. And eggs; huge, plate-wide and sunny-side up."All we need now is coffee," Ric grinned, setting himself down and sliding an egg plate in front of him. The smell of fresh coffee caused all three men to turn toward the kitchen doors as Tanya came in carrying a large pot of dark, steamy liquid."At your command, O Mighty Hunter!" she laughed."So, are you still upstairs, asleep, too?".
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With nothing to do for almost twelve hours, he grabbed a cab and rode into the city. He walked into a bar later that morning when he heard music through the open door, and he sat there while three men made their way through some of the most amazing music Carpenter had ever heard. After an hour of this a ravishing woman came in and sat nearby, and she ordered lunch, Carpenter was intrigued by the woman – she seemed a cut above the locals he had seen so far. Maybe it was the jewelry, it looked like Bulgari stuff, and the suit she wore had Givenchy written all over it. She spoke Portuguese, but for some reason Carpenter was sure that wasn’t her native tongue. He continued to look at her surreptitiously for a moment longer, then let himself be pulled back into the music. He could feel the smooth easy beat in his soul, and he felt a sudden soaring release from the misery of the past week as he listened to the discordant chromaticism. He felt the music, felt it wash away the deepest hell.

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