The Conjurer (The Vine Witch #3)(39)
Yvette fell back in her chair. “Mon Dieu, what’s in that stuff? Smells like heaven.”
Elena, too, was overtaken by the allure of the scent, though she couldn’t quite place the source of such heady magic.
“This,” Camille said, “is the pure concentrated form.” She put the lid back on and smiled. “As it happens, I’ve had the pleasure of working closely with one of the jinn before. My bestselling Fleur de Sable perfume was actually a collaboration with the rarest of jinn gentleman. An absolute charmer.” She spun around to show them a crystal bottle with a pair of doves for the stopper.
Yvette nudged Elena. “But that’s Sidra’s bottle.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Camille said, her voice infused with surprise and curiosity. “She was his wife, his inspiration. How did you know?”
Elena’s neck tingled from the featherlight touch of her intuition paying attention. “She’s the jinni in the midst of this mess we’re in.”
“But she was arrested for Hariq’s murder. I assumed she’d been executed already. Such a tragedy. They seemed to truly be in love.”
Elena looked to Yvette, who nodded. “We escaped prison before that could take place.”
“We?”
It took a little convincing, but Elena managed to explain their history with Sidra so that Camille was satisfied the two of them posed no threat. Still, while Elena and Yvette had both been exonerated for the crimes they were accused of, there was no such condition for Sidra. She was still wanted for the murder of her husband.
While Camille pondered this new information, Elena sat forward to peek at the grimoire lying open on the desk. “What was it you were going to say about the jinn and the power of fragrance?”
The perfume witch waved the scented paper once under her nose and closed her eyes as if in a fragrant dream. When she opened them again, she relented. “It was his idea. Hariq’s. He wanted a scent that encapsulated the beauty of his homeland and the woman he loved. Fleur de Sable. He called her his sand flower.” She took down the crystal bottle from the shelf behind her and removed the stopper. She motioned for Yvette to hold out her wrist, then dabbed a drop on her skin. A milder version of the concentrate permeated the air, floating in a cloud of smoky, citrusy musk.
“The top note is a hint of bergamot,” she explained. “Then there’s a line of jasmine holding the middle in pure ecstasy. The heart of the scent. And at the end is the bass note, a delicate incense-like musk that lingers on the skin, reminiscent of a mystical night spent in the desert under a silken canopy as the scent of trade spices and exotic flowers sails on the summer air.”
Elena recognized a kindred spirit in the perfume witch and the way she blended scents to get the perfect flavor she was after. But how could they use this magic to help them with the jinn? As if anticipating the question, Camille put the stopper back in the bottle. She turned to her grimoire, flipping through the pages until she came to her handwritten notes at the back.
“I wrote this note down at the time, which was, goodness, twenty years ago,” she said, checking the date beside the entry. “Hariq said he and Sidra wished to stay here in the village, but there was some trouble with their families, as I recall. They wanted a way to ensure they wouldn’t be found easily. They were looking for a spell to cover their tracks.” She ran her finger under her words as she read. “The jinn are attracted to smoke, botanic fragrances, and incense. All of them natural substances. But each jinni is different. What attracts one jinni might repel another. The allure is dependent on their nature. If one’s intentions are harmless, they will often be drawn to scents infused with qualities that enhance beauty, happiness, and satisfaction. But if one’s will is set on creating mischief or destruction, it’s likely they will be attracted to aromas that heighten or reinforce those intentions—scents of char, decay, bitter reed grass. Even the modern odors of locomotive smoke, car petrol, and exhaust fumes can attract and enliven a wicked jinn.”
“How can we use that against Jamra?” Elena asked.
Camille looked over the top of her glasses and grinned. “Well, from what I’ve gathered, he and his colleagues are not prone to being the helpful sort of jinn. Which means they wouldn’t be overly fond of my concoctions.”
“So, we blast him with this heavenly scent,” Yvette said, sniffing her wrist again.
“Perhaps we won’t deploy my bestselling perfume. However, there are certainly other aromas we can combine to achieve the same effect.”
“Jinni repellent,” Yvette said and smiled.
Elena leaned in to her intuition. “It could work. It’s why Sidra and Hariq chose to settle here. The flowers, the perfume. The fragrances protected them.” At least until Hariq’s untimely death. “We’re in a dreadful hurry,” Elena said. “Jamra may arrive at any moment. He destroyed a good portion of my vineyard already. I don’t think the village will fare much better against his wrath if he senses he’s close to finding what he’s after.”
“Perhaps your jinni friend should consider leaving to spare the village.”
A fair assessment. Elena had wondered the same thing, but there was a final destiny in Sidra’s demeanor. As much as she feared Jamra, she also seemed determined to face him. And this town was where she meant to do it. “There’s an element of fate involved. She believes this is where she must face Jamra, according to the omens she’s seen.”