by Sara King
Kaashifah blinked, her concentration lost. Turning slowly to Thunderbird, she said, “What?”
He shrugged. “I’m assuming it gets good cable. It’s big enough.” He flicked a piece of gristle aside and took another bite of roast thoughtfully. “I wanted cable, but they told me I live too far from their coverage area.”
The dragon frowned at him. “Why didn’t you move to town?”
Thunderbird gave him a flat electric stare.
“Oh.” The dragon chuckled. “That’s right. You are inept.” Meaning that Thunderbird had never learned to shape-change into something without the unearthly glow to his iris…probably because he found it complimented his robes. The dragon, meanwhile, had downformed to a rakishly handsome human body…
…that was conspicuously one inch taller than the Thunderbird.
Being gifted shapechangers, aside from the stink of magic and the slight diamond to his irises, Kaashifah could no more tell that a dragon was sitting against the wall than the djinni could see through his illusions of earlier.
“How could you possibly know that?” Kaashifah demanded.
Thunderbird shrugged. “It’s my continent.”
“You mean, all this time, you knew exactly what was hunting us, and where they lived?” Kaashifah demanded.
The Athabascan man gave her an irritated look. “You never asked, wolf.” He picked a piece of roast from his teeth. “Besides. You’ve been fleeing them. Why should you care where they live?”
“I’m going to utterly destroy them all,” Kaashifah said. “Dragon. If I wish you a djinni’s service, will you remove my curse?”
Instantly, ‘Aqrab’s head came up. “Mon Dhi’b, that’s not—”
“It was your interference that made it come to this,” Kaashifah said, without looking at him. Still focusing on the dragon, she said, “Will you remove my curse for three wishes?”
“I will twist them back on you, I swear,” ‘Aqrab snarled. “Promise not to remove her curse and I will grant you a wish. A good one.”
“‘Aqrab, damn you!” Kaashifah snapped, spinning on him to glare.
“I’ll take your bargain, djinni,” the dragon said. “One good wish is worth a hundred twisted ones.”
Immediately, the djinni began to chant, wrapping his bargain in Law.
“‘Aqrab, why?” Kaashifah cried as the room began to fill with violet light, caught between tears and fury. “Why do you betray me like this?”
‘Aqrab ignored her and dictated his terms—terms which left absolutely no leeway in that the dragon would never remove the wolf from Kaashifah’s blood. “Do you accept?”
The dragon licked his lips. “I accept.”
Immediately, the cave began to rumble with Fourthlander magic as ‘Aqrab boomed, “As agreed, so decreed, the bargain has been made.”
Plucking a grape from the pile, Thunderbird laughed. “This should be amusing. What will the greedy little hoarder wish for? A few more piles of gold? A cartload of gems? A dozen pretty maidens? A unicorn?” He popped a grape into his mouth and leaned back to watch with a smug grin. “This should be fun.”
“Djinni,” the dragon said smoothly, “I wish Thunderbird was at the South Pole, locked in a massive cube of ice.”
Thunderbird’s brow had just started to form into a frown when the djinni winced, then stiffened and violet energy swirled out from his body, wrapped the Thunderbird, and his electric eyes widened only a moment before he vanished.
“Ah,” ‘Aqrab said, nervously glancing at where Thunderbird had reclined only a moment ago, “I hope he doesn’t take that personally.”
“Let him,” the dragon said. He moved to the recently-vacated blanket and began picking at the grapes that Thunderbird had left behind.
Kaashifah was having trouble seeing through her Fury. “‘Aqrab,” she whispered, her entire body shaking in rage, “I need to talk to you. Outside. Alone.” She turned and started towards the mouth of the cave without him.
‘Aqrab gave her a wary look as she passed him, then reluctantly followed her out into the snow. “You are still convinced you must kill me, mon Dhi’b,” he said, as soon as they were alone. “I couldn’t take that chance.”
She ignored him and continued to walk, plowing her way across the mountainside, floundering, so angry she didn’t care, just kept going. Kaashifah had a thousand curses she wanted to wish upon his head, a thousand ways to scream herself hoarse for his betrayal, but in the end, all she could do was simply drop to the snow, tears stinging her eyes. She had been so close. She’d thought that she had finally, after two thousand years without her wings, succeeded in regaining her Fury. It had been within her grasp, and this djinni, this man, had yanked it from her reach.
“I trusted you,” she whimpered, watching the djinni’s presence melt the snow at her feet.
“No you didn’t,” ‘Aqrab growled. “Just last night, you told me you were going to kill me.”
And she had, too. Kaashifah opened her mouth to deny it, then just pulled her knees to her chest and dropped her face into her hands and let the tears come. Why had she thought he would allow her to regain her Fury, after so many centuries of twisting her wishes on her? What had possessed her to think of him as anything other than a word-weaving djinni?
Because…
Because something had changed.
“I trusted you,” was all she could manage to say. Why it hurt so badly that he had done what she should have expected him to do from the beginning only left her in all the more agony. Her shoulders began to wrack around her as her lungs unwillingly sucked in air to let it out again as long, low wails, the strange new pain in her chest increasing as she considered how stupid she had been, how obvious that he had simply been leading her along, weaving her around his little finger, luring her into complacency. It had been obvious… But why did it hurt so much?
She felt ‘Aqrab drop to his knees in front of her and reach out. Putting both his big hands on her arms, he asked softly, “Do you still?” He sounded desperate, anxious.
Kaashifah laughed desperately and closed her eyes with a shake of her head.
“What if I offer you a final bargain?” he asked, reaching up to touch her chin, to lift it. “What if I remove the wolf? Would you trust me then?”
Kaashifah hesitated, her body still shuddering. She lifted her gaze to meet his, wiping her face with a trembling hand. “What?”
“A bargain to remove the wolf,” he said, his eyes tender…and nervous. “Would you trust me then?”
There was only one thing he could want from her, one thing she hadn’t given. “You want me to bear your child.”
The djinni flinched. “Ah, well, for the bargain, I want you to swear to me that you will not take my head when I remove the wolf, and I will make it so.”
At first, Kaashifah thought she had heard wrong. Then, when she rewound it in her mind, she blinked at him. “You just want me to swear…” There were a thousand different ways to kill someone aside from taking a head, and, as a twister of words, he knew that. Granted, there were a lot fewer ways with a djinni, but the fact that he wasn’t specifying that she couldn’t ‘kill’ him was glaring. Stunned, she whispered, “You’re not weaving words.”
‘Aqrab gave her a timid smile. “Trust, Kaashifah.”
Barely able to form the sounds, she managed, “You would give me back my Fury…if I swear not to take your head?”
“Shall I wrap it in Law?” ‘Aqrab said. He looked uneasy, but didn’t retract his offer.
“Why?” Kaashifah demanded. “Why now? Why after so long, ‘Aqrab?”
“I made a mistake,” he said softly, watching her. “I would correct it.”
For a long moment, Kaashifah simply stared at him. Was he truly offering what it sounded like? The one thing she had wanted for two thousand years, and it was to come from the hands of a djinni?
Kaashifah tried to think of ways he could be cheating her, ways that he was twisting the truth, but nothing came.
Very softly, she said, “You speak truth?”
“I can do nothing but.” ‘Aqrab tentatively reached out, touched one of her hands, brought it into his warm palm and caressed it. His violet eyes fearful, he said, “You already have my heart, little wolf. I may as well learn to trust my conqueror, for the alternative is…unspeakable for a djinni.”
Kaashifah hesitated. He was admitting he had fallen in love with her? Her chest began to hurt with a new sensation—the sudden pounding of her heart. The sound of her own blood rushing in her ears, she looked down at the big hand that held hers and watched his ebony fingers slide gently across her knuckles as he waited for her response. Before she realized what she’d done, she gave him her other hand to hold, as well.
‘Aqrab froze, seemingly as surprised to see that as Kaashifah herself was. Both of them sat there in silence for long minutes, the snow melting around them, looking at their clasped hands. He tamed a Fury, she thought, both horrified and…blissfully happy?
“Wrap it in law,” Kaashifah whispered. “I would take your offer.”
‘Aqrab looked up at her again, his violet eyes anxious. He took a long, uneven breath, glanced at the surrounding snow, and let it out in a whoosh. Biting his lip, he met her gaze again.
“Trust,” she told him softly.
‘Aqrab swallowed, looked back down at their clasped hands. For the first time, when he spoke, ‘Aqrab’s voice didn’t boom out in confidence as he raised his voice with Law. While it carried the same ringing echo, it was softer, almost timid. “I, Yad al-‘Aqrab, sand-singer of the Scorpion clan, firstborn son of Bakr al-Shihab, eleventh djinni Lord of the Fourth Lands, hereby offer a bargain to you, Kaashifah the Fury, Handmaiden to Ares, Warrior-Priestess of Horus, Angel of Vengeance, and Justice of the Battlefields: Swear upon your honor that you will not take my head once you are free, and I will remove the Third Lander from your blood. Do you accept?” There was fear in his eyes as he waited.
Kaashifah stared at him. He hadn’t even put magic to it, as he had with the dragon. It wasn’t, “Allow yourself to be put under a geas never to take my head…” All he was asking for, in his bargain, was for her to say words. Anyone could say words. Words meant nothing.
…and, as she had learned by spending three thousand years with a djinni, everything.
He continued to watch her with a nervous tension to his face.
“I want you to change it,” Kaashifah said.
She saw the hesitation there, the uncertainty, and for a moment, it looked like he would recant his bargain. Very slowly, the djinni said, “Change it to what, little wolf?”
“Trade it for a handful of snow,” Kaashifah said.
She felt the sudden heat roll off of the djinni’s body, felt his fingers tighten on her hand. He bit his lip and looked away, at the endless expanse of white in all directions.
“It is said,” Kaashifah said softly, “that the Djinn love to play with fire.”
Very slowly, ‘Aqrab turned back to her, and a tentative, shy smile crossed his lips. “Such is said,” he agreed softly. He watched her a moment, seemingly debating in his head. Then, after a pause, he raised his voice, stronger now, reciting her new bargain. “I amend the bargain. Give me a handful of snow, and I will remove the Third Lander from your blood. Do you accept?”
Kaashifah smiled at him, her chest warming. “I do.”
Instantly, violet energy began twisting around him in a cyclone, setting his words into Law before it disappeared. Then the enormous djinni slumped over her hands as the magic departed, biting his lip, looking like a nervous deer.
Kaashifah went to move her hand. At first, the djinni held onto it, tightening his grip in a spasm. He stared down at her wrist for long minutes and swallowed. Then, ever-so-gently, he released it.
Her heart pounding, now, Kaashifah twisted, dipped her hand into the snow, and held it out to him.
For what seemed like centuries, ‘Aqrab only stared at the whiteness as someone would watch a scorpion.
“It’s melting,” Kaashifah whispered.
‘Aqrab watched the snow melt for an eternity before he took an unsteady breath. Then, biting his lip, the djinni very slowly twisted his big palm up and held it out for her.
Most of what Kaashifah dumped onto his hand was water, but it must have been enough, for the djinni stiffened with, “You have given me a handful of snow, fulfilling your side of the bargain.” And then, his eyes widening, he was moving towards her, putting his wet hand upon her back, between the shoulder-blades, the other between her breasts. Kaashifah felt the caged animal in the back of her mind suddenly give a startled yelp, the surprised snort of an angry predator, then felt it wrenched from her consciousness entirely.
In that moment, Kaashifah felt her wings. Glowing and radiant within her, she pushed them out, then, and the djinni fell backwards, covering his eyes, as the entire countryside lit up with the light of her feathers. Kaashifah barely noticed. Her soul was singing as she got to her feet, feeling the full rush of her Fury for the first time in millennia. She stretched them out, extending her long-lost limbs out in a twenty-foot spread, then gave a tentative flap, making the snow billow around her, falling in quickly-melting swirls on the djinni’s ebony body.
Laughing, Kaashifah pounded the air, throwing gusts of snow in all directions, reveling in her wings. The djinni, for his part, had curled into a ball at her feet, head tucked against his body, trying to avoid the drifts.
…or something else.
Kaashifah hesitated, and, still exhilarated with the thrill of her Fury, she reluctantly drew them in, tightening them against her back.
Very slowly, the djinni unfolded, lifting his head timidly.
“Ah,” he managed, still lying on his side, blinking up at her, “I forgot how pretty you are, little wolf.” Yet he had that wild, terrified look of something that was about to flee to the Fourth Realm, never to be seen again.
Kaashifah grinned and dropped to her knees in front of him. Even as the djinni started to shy away, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug.
At first, ‘Aqrab was stiff beneath her, obviously expecting a fist through his chest, or a foot through his spine, or a sword through his brain, but, as she gingerly lifted him up and wrapped her wings around him, cradling his body in their cushioned light, he gradually relaxed into her embrace. Kaashifah continued to hold him for long minutes, feeling him breathe, reveling in the energy she once again felt flowing through her body, no longer a constant struggle to pull it from behind a shield of Void, but there, waiting, begging to be used.
Before she knew it, ‘Aqrab slipped his big arms around her waist, and she felt him start to shudder, the snow melting in a wave around them as he wept into her shoulder. “Thank you,” he whimpered.
He thanks me? Kaashifah wondered, confused. By growing her wings, she had gained a foot of height, putting her head just under his chin, but he still dwarfed her for size.
“I thought you were going to kill me,” he blurted in a teary, snotty confession on her shoulder. “Goddess, I thought you were going to—”
Very slowly, grinning, Kaashifah began tightening her grip.
The djinni stopped sniffling. Nervously, he said, “What are you doing, mon Dhi’b?”
Kaashifah lunged into the air, holding him to her chest, and launched out over the mountainside. The djinni screamed and clung to her in a death-grip, his legs tightening around her in a spasm.
“You once told me you wished you could fly, ‘Aqrab,” she said, pounding the air with her wings, dragging them skyward. “You said you thought wings were wasted on Furies.”
“I twisted words! I twisted words!” ‘Aqrab babbled.
Kaashifah laughed and spiraled upwards, buoyed by her magics…and her joy. Far beneath them, the dragon stuck his head out of his cave, looked up, made a startled grunt, and ducked back inside in a hiss. Kaashifah ignored him. “Look out there, ‘Aqrab. You can see the world.” Indeed, not even the mountains were impeding their view
anymore. The air itself was thin, the clouds at their feet.
The djinni, for his part, kept his face buried in her neck and let out a belly-deep, unending, “Too hiiiiigh!”
Kaashifah laughed and spun, dragging them further skyward. As the djinni shrieked, she rolled and dove, twisting through the air with happy reunion, abandoning every care to the ecstasy of stretching her wings. She twirled and plummeted, then gained altitude and soared into a freefall before pulling them up at the last minute and arcing down across the mountainside. Her bliss, however, was cut somewhat short when the djinni’s body convulsed and she felt a hot wetness down her back. She paused, spreading her wings mid-air, holding herself in place with a pillar of energy to the earth.
“‘Aqrab,” she said evenly. “What was that?”
The djinni fled realms. She heard him scream as he started to fall.
Laughing, Kaashifah dove to follow the faint outline of heat-shimmer against the snow below. She pulled beneath him, rolled onto her back, and said, “Come on, ‘Aqrab, I’ll take you back.”
The djinni popped back into the First Realm and she grabbed him, then slowed their descent in a mixture of magic and air-pulverizing wingbeats.
Once she lowered his feet gently to the ground, the djinni, gasping, backed out of reach. “I’m sorry. I will clean it. I swear. I just need…breath…can’t think…”
Kaashifah grinned. Not even the smell of vomit was dampening her enjoyment of the moment. “Not a fan of heights, I take it, ‘Aqrab?”
The djinni gave her a greenish grimace that she supposed had been meant as a smile. “If it was just the heights, mon Dhi’b, I think I would have been fine, but you were spinning so fast I could not tell which way was up.”