Val took Estele by the hand and took off at a jog. “Let’s hurry.”
Estele took a stumbling step forward. “Hold on, we don’t have a tool kit or anything to pick a lock with.”
“Yes, we do.” He pulled her forward.
They rushed toward the far part of the parking lot where the tractor-trailers were parked. The hum of generators and the scent of diesel hung heavy in the air. A large black trailer with flames painted on the side stood apart from the rest.
Estele crept up the folding steps and pulled on the door handle. As expected, it was locked. She motioned to Val with a shrug.
Val dug into his pocket and removed the tiny dagger that had fallen off the shattered divination necklace. He brought the slender blade to his lips, delivered a kiss, and mumbled a prayer. Then he held the miniature blade in front of the lock. Like a magnet to steel, the blade flew from his hand into the lock and turned. The lock clicked and the blade flew back into his hand. He smiled, tapped the door handle, and waited as the door slowly opened into an interior as dark and airless as a tomb. He motioned.
Estele hesitated. Was he asking her to go first? Whatever happened to chivalry? With her heart racing, she tiptoed up the steps and peered into a blackness that carried the distinct scent of sulfur.
“Waaaah!” The dead-white face of a screaming clown appeared in front of her, waving his hands and baring yellowed teeth. “Let me out of here!” he wailed.
“Oh shit!” She fell backward into Val arms. A vision from Hell. What was going on?
The clown crowded past her. “Thank you! Thank you! He leaves me trapped in there and forgets me. I can’t stand it anymore!” The clown’s comically huge shoes slapped the ground like flippers as he ran, ducking between other trailers. Seconds later, he was out of view.
“Was that Sparky?” she mouthed. “What was that about?”
Val pushed the door all the way open and stuck his head inside. “Time to find out.” He took his phone out of his pocket and used it as a flashlight. The bright beam of light swept the inside of the trailer. “It smells familiar, doesn’t it?”
Lair of the smoke beast. “What do you see?” She tugged on Val’s sleeve and dared to follow him into the unknown. The trailer was nothing special or suspicious. It had stacked bunk beds, a kitchenette, and even a small bathroom. Every surface was spotless and free of any sort of personal clutter. There wasn’t even a toothbrush near the sink. She opened a tiny refrigerator, which was empty. Her gaze swept the trailer. “That’s weird. Where’s Luther? There’s no one here.”
“Correction. He’s here.” Val swung the light into a corner. On a countertop sitting by itself was a squat brass lamp, the kind used in the ancient world to burn oil and make wishes. Its golden tones glistened in the light, like something straight out of One Thousand and One Nights. He picked up the lamp and handed it to Estele. “Well, well. Who would have guessed? Luther’s a djinn.”
Estele held a finger to her lips. It made sense, a djinn that traveled the night in the form of smoke. She should have thought of it sooner. “Hush.” She mouthed, “Don’t wake him.”
Val’s lips pulled taut and he nodded to indicate he understood, then pointed to her purse and mouthed, “Open your handbag.”
Estele shook her head. It was nerve-racking enough carrying around the Heart of Hecate; did he really think it was a good idea to slip an evil djinn into her purse too? She mouthed, “Take your shirt off.”
Without questioning her, Val pulled his hoodie over his head. A cap-sleeved T-shirt beautifully displayed his broad chest and heavily muscled arms. He handed the still-warm jersey to Estele and she used it to wrap the lamp tightly in a snug and hopefully soundproof cocoon.
“There.” She anxiously cradled the muffled object in her hands. “Let’s pray Luther can’t hear us from inside his lamp. What do we do next?”
His mouth opened and he appeared to be at a loss. “Have you ever dealt with a djinn before?”
“No, have you?”
Val warily eyed the hoodie. “What exactly are we dealing with? Do we have a tiger by the tail? What if he wakes up or escapes the lamp? How powerful is a djinn?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “There are no djinn in the San Buena enchantment community, so I’ve never met one before. I’ve heard stories about an evil djinn who passed through town twenty years ago and caused a bunch of trouble, but that was an isolated incident.”
He stared at the wad of fabric in Estele’s hands as if he expected it to spontaneously combust. “How did the community handle him?”
“We could ask Miss Dahlia or Witch Griselda. They might remember the details, but I’m not sure they had to do much of anything. After turning the enchantment community upside down looking for a ‘special witch,’ the djinn vanished on his own.”
“Vanished?”
“Yep. He left town and we never heard from him again. The story was he was looking for an all-powerful witch to join forces with, and the ladies at the Master Mage Magic Academy were having none of it.”
Val made a motion to leave. “Let’s take Luther to the truck and ask Bruno what we should do. Maybe he knows something about trapping or enchanting djinn, though I doubt it.”
She clutched the wadded hoodie so tightly in her hands, her knuckles blanched. “You lead the way. I’m so scared I’m going to drop him and that menacing cloud of black smoke is going to pop out and start doing crazy shit!”
“Keep your voice down.” Val looked terrified. “Don’t wake him. Watch how you’re handling the lamp. Don’t accidentally rub it, or summon L-U-T-H-E-R by making a W-I-S-H.”
Estele thrust the loathsome packet toward Val. “Do you want to hold him?”
He shook his head. “You’re doing a great job. Just go slow and look where you’re going. There’s a bunch of thick cables coming up. Step high. Watch out for the gaffer tape, you don’t want that grabbing at your boots and tripping you up. The asphalt is a little uneven here—”
Staring straight ahead or at the hoodie, she really couldn’t see much of anything below the waist. “I get it, Val. I’m being careful.” In her peripheral vision, she saw a big yellow Cadillac speed into the parking lot, headed toward the Brujo Tacos truck. She lifted one hand to wave. “Look, it’s Fredi! Thank Goddess she’s here.”
“Watch where you’re going!” Val lunged forward, ready to catch the lamp if it fell. “You’re making me nervous.”
“And you think I’m not anxious?” Taking one cautious step at a time, she managed to walk past an acre of cables and a maze of rides, arriving at the food truck unscathed.
Fredi waited beside the truck looking like a fashion spread for women’s breezy summer wear in a red T-shirt dress, bold jewelry, and turquoise cowboy boots. As usual her lips were the color of ripe watermelon and her eyeliner was perfect. She focused on the dark lump in Estele’s hands. “What’s wrong, honey? Your arms are shaking.”
She stopped. Relief and nervous exhaustion left her knees shaking. “I’m holding a mean, smelly djinn and I don’t want him to wake and escape from his lamp.”
“No, we certainly don’t want that.” Fredi looked horrified and stepped aside. Miss Dahlia and Witch Griselda were standing next to the truck, eating burritos. “I brought the A Team with me. Bring us up to speed. What’s going on?”
Witch Griselda cackled with delight. “This burrito is delicious. Love me a brujo who can cook. That young man with the silver hair is a treat for the eyes.”
Estele carefully approached Witch Griselda. “Look. We caught an evil djinn. What do we do with him?”
“Drown him!” Witch Griselda’s gaze swept over Estele, examining every detail. “Miss Esposito? Is that you? You’re still in one piece and look very much alive. I’m shocked! Do you still have the Heart of Hecate in your possession?”
“Err, yes.” She hesitated. “The Heart of Hecate is in my purse. What do you mean by ‘still in one piece’? Grissy, what were you expecting would happen to m
e?”
“With the gates of Hell opening beneath our feet, I was expecting to see something a little more gruesome.” Griselda waved Estele’s comment away. “Like decapitated walking dead or a plague of blisters upon the masses. That sort of thing.”
Old Griselda seemed uncharacteristically sharp this morning. What was up with that? “Did you know about the bubble of malevolence before you arrived this morning?”
Fredi looked confused. “What are we talking about? Someone tell me why I’m here.”
Still gumming her burrito, Griselda grinned. “I’ve known about the bubble of malevolence for some time. Until today, I never said anything about it because there was no need.” Her eyes bulged. “There’s a need to mention it now. Believe me. There’s a shit storm headed our way.”
She was stunned. “How come you knew and the rest of us didn’t?”
Witch Griselda swayed on her feet as if she were drunk. “I’m older than dirt, sweetie, and dirt knows everything.”
Was that really Griselda’s idea of an answer? Maybe there was a second meaning hidden in the first? Estele drew a blank and let it go. Sometimes it just didn’t pay to follow Griselda’s logic too closely.
“Unwrap the djinn.” Griselda pushed past Fredi and leaned closer. “Let’s have a look at the troublemaker.”
Estele pulled the hoodie away and clutched the lamp’s ornate handle. She brought her finger to her lips, hoping against hope that Grissy wouldn’t squeal loudly and wake Luther.
“Packed inside his protective shell like a brass turtle.” Griselda popped the last bite of burrito into her mouth and mumbled, “Let’s get back to the subject of drowning. That handsome brujo who made our breakfast burritos said he’d enchanted a boatload of coffee.” She pointed to the spout of the lamp. “I say we trickle coffee into that lamp, stick a cork in the spout, and give it a good shake.”
Disappointment dragged her hopes down. That sounded like a terrible idea. “Grissy, that might be like swatting at a hornet’s nest with a broom. If Luther wakes, a cork won’t hold him inside.”
Fredi brushed her fingertips against the lamp’s lid.
Estele snatched it away. “Careful, Fredi. Don’t make any rubbing motions on the surface. We don’t want to summon him.”
Horror shone on Fredi’s face. “Sorry. I didn’t think of that. What do we know about this djinn? Does he have a master?”
Estele shook her head. “From what Marge said—”
Miss Dahlia broke her silence. “Who is Marge?”
“Marge Shamansky, aka Madame Shamansky, the all-seeing eye of destiny. She owns this carnival.”
“Fascinating.” Miss Dahlia moved her wire spectacles up her nose and bent over the lamp. “How did Madame Shamansky acquire the djinn, through enthrallment or bargaining?”
“According to Marge’s story, it sounded like the djinn acquired her.” Estele was getting nervous as hell standing out in the open holding a real genie in a lamp and waiting for it to all blow up under her nose. “Luther approached here a few weeks ago, paid off her debts, and joined the carnival. From what she said, it seems like Luther has been pulling all the strings since.”
“Luther was free to act on his own behalf?” For a moment, Miss Dahlia compressed her lips so tightly they disappeared. “Am I right in assuming Madame Shamansky does not have command over this djinn?”
Estele lowered her voice. “Madame Shamansky didn’t even realize Luther was a djinn. This is all new. Val and I broke into his trailer and saw the lamp. We made the discovery a few minutes ago.”
Fredi clamped her hand over her mouth and looked worried. “Estele, could this be one of your misunderstandings? That’s how you know we’re dealing with a djinn? You found a lamp? What if it’s just an incense burner or a paperweight?” She pulled a wand from her boot and pointed it at the lamp. “We’re whispering and walking on eggshells in front of a brass knickknack, but do we even know if anyone’s inside it? Maybe I should give it a blast of Wiccan plasma and see what happens?”
The ruby in Estele’s purse pulsed alarmingly bright, bathing the side of her jacket in blood-red light. “Wait. Be careful, Fredi. No blasting. Luther can be very destructive. He takes the form of black smoke and gets people to surrender their will to him, so let’s go slow.”
“Okay.” Fredi aimed her wand at the ground. “So, what’s next?”
Miss Dahlia looked worried. “I haven’t had much experience with djinn, but from the little I know, a djinn clever enough to secure his free agency and move about the world without a master is a formidable being indeed. Luther must have been exceptionally devious to avoid a master’s influence.”
“How would he do that?” Estele said. The small lamp was beginning to feel like it weighed a hundred pounds in her hands, and she wanted to drop it.
Miss Dahlia examined the lamp with a frown. “Magic spells bind djinn to their masters. If Luther evaded a master, perhaps that master died or was tricked into freeing him?” She removed the spectacles from her nose and allowed them to dangle from their chain. “Let’s take a peek at what’s going on here.” The glasses swayed in a crooked arc, then reversed direction and spun counterclockwise like a pendulum. Finally they lifted into the air and hovered for a gravity-defying moment on a horizontal chain like an eager dog pulling on its leash. “Great Goddess! Look at that. Without doubt there’s a powerful supernatural force occupying that lamp.”
Fredi bit her lip. “What do we do? Can we throw the lamp off the pier and bury him at sea?”
Miss Dahlia rubbed her head. “That won’t work. Djinn are anaerobic. They can survive underground or underwater for millennia. Technically, when they are inside their lamps, they occupy another dimension. Luther’s extra dangerous because he can come and go at will. He doesn’t have to wait to be summoned by a master.”
Estele’s stomach gurgled. This was a very disturbing topic that left her feeling sick. “Marge said Luther only comes out after dark and doesn’t allow anyone to look directly at him.”
“There’s a reason for that,” Captain Manx’s gruff voice boomed at her back.
“Where have you been?” Startled, Estele lurched, afraid she might drop the lamp as she turned. “Captain, why do you say that?”
The captain’s expression was dour. “I had a harrowing run-in with a djinn in Singapore. I was bamboozled into allowing one of those wretched lamp-dwellers aboard my ship and I shall regret the decision forever.”
Estele tapped her foot. “I wish you’d said something earlier. For instance, when we were being attacked throughout the night would have been the perfect time to mention your suspicions about a pissed-off evil djinn.”
“I didn’t know I had to!” The captain lifted his hands skyward in a dramatic gesture. “Evil whirlwinds of black smoke… it seemed so obvious.”
“It wasn’t obvious to me. Now we’re in harm’s way.” She was the one holding a freaking djinn and waiting for the sneaky bastard to go kaboom. “No more surprises, Captain. Tell me everything you know about djinn. We’re fighting on multiple fronts. We have a bubble of malevolence beneath us, a freelance creep in a lamp who might be listening to every word we’re saying, and thousands of unwitting fairgoers who are going to be walking through those gates any minute.”
“Where to start… where to start.” The captain rolled his eyes. “On my travels through exotic lands, I learned the race of djinn was originally created as a caste of angelic warriors pledged to serve mankind, but over the centuries contact with too many greedy and foolish humans left them resentful of the role of servant. As I was told, some djinn are trustworthy and wondrous to behold, but I later learned the ones that get traded in gambling dens are deceptive devils. When a lamp was handed to me at a waterfront gambling table as payment for a winning hand, I was pleased as punch. Not three days from shore, I discovered I got an angry, human-hating djinn eager to cause problems at every opportunity.”
Human-hating djinn? That was so not what she wanted to hear
. “What did you do about it?”
“There was nothing I could do! Rightfully I should have been the djinn’s master, but he was crafty and quick to limit my influence over him. The moment I summoned him, he proclaimed all commands spoken aboard my ship were null. In no time, Shai, as we learned he was called, became a tyrant, endangering and tormenting my crew. We spent hellish weeks at sea, trapped and treated like rats, yet somehow I survived. I alone made it to the port of San Buena alive, sailing a derelict ghost ship. The crew’s suffering and my guilt for having taken such a fiendish monster aboard in the first place will forever be branded into my mind. If I could take back my actions and change the facts, no matter the price, I would.”
Estele stared at the lamp in her hands. “Are you saying you sailed into San Buena’s harbor and came ashore with an evil djinn? How could you do that to innocent people?”
“No!” Captain Manx appeared appalled at that suggestion. “I did what any responsible captain would do. I came as close to the docks as I dared, then doused the cargo hold with oil, set the ship ablaze, and leapt over the side. The Lady Alice burned to the waterline, and the debris, including the lamp, sank into the sea. I spent the rest of my life trying to warn others of the dangers of accepting an enchanted lamp at the gambling tables, but no one wanted to listen. Stories circulated that I’d gone mad and tortured and killed my crew one by one. It was a horrible lie to live with.”
She looked at the captain. Without doubt he was telling the truth. No wonder the poor man ended up in the house on the hill, desperate to numb himself with anything he could get his hands on. Real pity for Manx filled her heart. “I’m sorry you went through what you did. I can’t even imagine.” She turned toward Miss Dahlia. “Do you think Luther is the same djinn, and if so, how did he get ashore?”
Miss Dahlia eyed the lamp like it was a coiled rattlesnake. “Let’s find out.” She dangled her eyeglasses on a chain above the lamp. “Is Shai the djinn now going by the name Luther?”
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