One Wish Away: Djinn Empire Complete Series

by Ingrid Seymour

  A figure rose slowly from the corner of the porch, shadows hiding the features of a creature with a misshapen head. A spell, a full-fledged wish that would undo the secrecy we’d so jealously guarded for over a week, fizzed to the surface of my essence. I held it back, all senses homed in on the lumbering shape.

  “I’ve been waiting for you,” a rich, deep voice said. Under the circumstances, the words might have seemed threatening, but something melodious and amused in the intonation made it possible for me to hold back my restless magic. Marielle heard the same tone because she relaxed somewhat.

  When the figure had walked to the top of the porch steps, a bit of moonlight that managed to seep through the surrounding trees allowed me to get a better look. It was no creature and its head wasn’t misshapen. It was just a woman, wearing a flower print headwrap tightly wound around her head. Her flowing dress was constructed of the same fabric. It hung to her knees and blew in the light breeze. She was of medium height and build with black hair and skin several shades darker than my own. She was looking straight at Marielle as if she were the only unexpected visitor. Her eyes glinted with the same amusement her voice had carried.

  “Well, don’t you just stand there staring. C’mon, child. Time’s a wastin’.” She turned and entered the house, long skirts swinging behind her like a tail.

  18

  Akeelah

  They came, and they came in droves.

  Akeelah floated atop the statue of a mounted general in the middle of Jackson Square. The night was vast and vibrant, perfect for the occasion.

  A sea of Dross extended before her, filling the park and spilling past its boundaries onto the adjacent streets. They looked up at her, their eyes filling with joyous tears. There was a hum or a chant in the air, delivered with what could only be called reverence.

  The mass of bodies swayed from side to side. Many raised their hands toward the sky, oblivious to the cold and the gathering clouds above.

  Her bastard army was there, though invisible and scattered through the crowd. Well-placed spotlights ensured every attendant had a good view of the show.

  Akeelah raised a hand and waved it over the crowd as if in blessing. The weeping and chanting intensified. She smirked. This was mildly entertaining, though it was slowly growing tiresome, just like everything else that involved humans.

  Time to begin.

  “My children,” she said in a magically amplified voice. Right away, her essence grew bitter with the fake sentiment. She had to remind herself it was all part of a bigger plan. A goal.

  They wept and chanted louder.

  It would not do.

  “Be silent,” she added, her fake kindness failing her a bit. Nevertheless, it worked. A hush fell over the assembly.

  “We. Are. One.”

  Well, that had been the wrong thing to say. It had gotten the Dross going again. She wished they would shut up.

  They did.

  Akeelah regarded the crowd in surprise. Her essence grew lighter with this rare, almost-forgotten sensation. She could not remember the last time anything had surprised her. Her magic had worked on the crowd. They were so utterly enthralled and given to her that they had opened themselves to her influence.

  Unexpectedly, her hatred burst forth like lava from a volcano, and she found herself wishing them all dead. As she watched their eager faces, truly expecting them to go blank with death, she felt suspended in time. The instant stretched and stretched, holding her initial surprise and wearing it thin until it snapped.

  She still couldn’t kill them.

  Their trust wasn’t enough to override The Creator’s design. The satisfaction of their demise was not to be hers, but no matter. There were millions more to kill other than these few gathered at her feet, and, in the end, watching Dross undo each other would be far more satisfying to her wicked sense of irony than smiting this handful could ever be.

  “We are one,” she repeated. This time only their eyes expressed their sublime ecstasy. “I find you pure of heart and soul, washed from sin by holy blood. And as one, we need to face the trials these times have cast upon us.”

  She raised a hand, palm up. A flame appeared in the center and wavered in the wind.

  “Within you, you hold the righteous fire of justice. You have tended it and kept it alive in spite of the horrors other have inflicted upon you. Other righteous ones have come and passed before you, they now rest in peace and glory. And you shall do the same when it’s all said and done—when judgment has been delivered to those who have strayed from me.”

  She held her hand higher. The crowd stared directly at the flame which glittered with enhanced luminosity.

  As Akeelah had planned, she blew on the flame. It danced from side to side, then lifted from her palm and floated over the crowd. The sea of faces turned in its direction. Not a single breath was released.

  The flame slowly split down the middle and became two. Those two split as well and then there were four. Four became eight. Eight, sixteen. On and on it went until there were thousands of flames, one above each Dross that occupied the square.

  “Be my eyes, my ears, my hands,” she said.

  The small flames slowly descended toward the mesmerized herd. Most stared with pious eyes. Few had enough sense to be afraid.

  “Be my disciples!”

  On cue, her bastard djinn did their job, sending each individual flame toward their target, straight to the brow. The crowd gasped in one coordinated intake of air. Hands flew to foreheads, and finding nothing there fell back down. The fools looked to the sky, searching for their missing flames. Nothing there either.

  Bewildered, they studied at each other and discovered what had happened. They gasped and touched their foreheads again.

  Their trembling fingers attempted to trace the edges of the flames which had branded them as Akeelah’s disciples, but they were smooth like timeworn tattoos.

  Hysterical laughter filled their mouths, and tears streamed down their faces as they touched each other’s marks and marveled at their perfection and wondered at their meaning. They swelled with pride and the holier-than-thou purpose she had hoped for.

  For the sake of irony, she would have loved to mark them with three sixes, but that wouldn’t do. The flame conveyed the message that would best serve her end.

  “My chosen ones,” she said, “go and do as I ask of you. Go and release your sinful neighbors from the burden of their disgraceful misdeeds.”

  Her newly blessed assassins did as she bid.

  Satisfied, she vanished like a specter into the night. There were many more to mark around the world. She would get to them too, and then would sit back and enjoy her handiwork.

  19

  Marielle

  I stepped into the house, followed by Faris. The dusty screen door whined as he eased it closed. Inside, it was dark. A single candle was lit in the back of the room to our right. I barely caught sight of the witch’s skirts as she disappeared through a door in the rear.

  We went in, our shoes tapping against wooden floorboards. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, the interior of the house began to take shape. Old picture frames hung from the walls. They were elaborate, with carved designs of flowers and vines. It was hard to make out the photographs inside of them, but they looked very old, surely black and white. I wanted to stop and look at them, but kept going.

  A table piled with an assortment of things caught my attention next. I squinted at the clutter, wrinkling my nose at a large bowl filled with dried out chicken feet. Each one was individually bound with feathers and beads, forming some sort of amulet. Next to the bowl laid a small heap of voodoo dolls. They were stitched haphazardly and looked dirty, as if they’d been handled a lot. Fat cigars, small vials, unlit candles and more covered every inch of the table’s surface.

  I shook my head and forced myself to move past the odd items, guiding my steps toward the door the witch had used. There seemed to me more light on that side of the house. We made our way
in and walked into a small kitchen illuminated by hundreds of candles. There were on every available surface: the counters, windowsills, stove, even the top of a very old fridge.

  The witch was waiting for us, sitting at a small table. Her face was calm, her eyes attentive. She nodded at the chairs to her right and left. Faris and I exchanged a glance and sat down. Cups of an amber-colored tea sat in front of us. Flowers with a yellow center and white petals swam inside of them. Steam rose into the air. Had she known we were coming?

  “Rosemary and chamomile tea sweetened with Louisiana honey,” the witch said, her voice like a melody with its own cadence. “Good for the nerves.”

  “Thank you,” I said, looking doubtfully at the cup. Drinking tea prepared by a witch just didn’t seem like a good idea. Then again, not drinking it seemed extremely rude and not a good way to start.

  Faris picked up his cup. “Very kind of you.” He took a sip, his dark eyes locked with mine as he drank. Licking his lips, he set the cup down and gave me a nod. With his endorsement, I drank, too. The tea was the right temperature and sweetness—a delicious brew that did seem to temper my unease.

  “You knew we were coming,” Faris said. It was not a question. “My name is Faris. This is Marielle.”

  She ignored him and continued watching me the way she’d been doing since we sat down. Unable to hold her sharp gaze, I stared at the pink butterfly pattern on my cup.

  Suddenly she laid a hand on mine. Her skin was darkly rich and beautiful against my pale complexion. The half-moons of her fingernails were perfect.

  “How are you holding up, child?”

  My gaze met hers for an instant, then snapped back to the cup. “I’m . . . okay.” My voice broke in spite of my effort to keep it steady. She had always been gruff with me whenever she came to Jardin Noir. I never understood why, but, considering this alternative, I much preferred her surly behavior.

  As if she’d read my mind, she pulled her hand away and donned the crabby expression I was used to. “Well, the day is here. Can’t say I’ve looked forward to it. No sir.”

  Her hand moved to the intricate necklace or necklaces she wore. I couldn’t tell if it was a single piece or several layered ones. There were big and small beads. Wooden beads and stone beads. Jade and crystal. Amethyst and mother of pearl. Her fingers worried at two particular ones. They were made of wood and seemed to be smoothed and worn by her constant touch.

  For the first time she acknowledged Faris. The look she gave him wasn’t unlike the one she’d always given me. If anything, it was worse.

  “I’m the least thrilled to be meeting you.” She waved a hand in front of Faris as if he was an annoying fly.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” He didn’t look bothered by her outright hostility. On the contrary, he smiled crookedly, looking amused.

  She heaved a heavy sigh and raised her eyes toward the ceiling. “Bondye, I can’t believe two young people are responsible for this inconceivable mess. And why-oh-why did you have to get me mixed up in it? I was plodding along just fine, bothering nobody, minding my own business.”

  “I am not as young as I look,” Faris said.

  “Oh, yes, you are. And don’t kid yourself about it.” She stood and walked to a tea kettle on the stove and prepared a cup for herself.

  “Mrs. Chapiteau, you—” I began.

  “No, no! That won’t do. My given name is Gertrude, but everyone calls me Ma’ Gee. So you do that, too.”

  “Um, okay, Ma’ Gee. You seem to know why we’re here, so I guess maybe we can cut to the chase.”

  “Cut to the chase. Cut to the chase. Yes.” She sat back down and set her tea on the table. “Let me just enjoy my cup of tea first,” she paused, “before the chase begins.”

  Faris and I frowned and exchanged a quick glance. His gaze darted around the kitchen, then he stood, walked to the window over the sink and looked out into the night.

  “Uh-huh,” Ma’ Gee mumbled from behind her cup.

  “What? Someone followed us?!” I asked incredulously. “But we were careful.” I knew careful wasn’t good enough—not these days—but still.

  “Can you feel it?” Ma’ Gee asked Faris.

  He nodded. “I can. It’s close enough now.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Something that feels just the way he does,” Ma’ Gee said in a singsong tone, pointing at Faris.

  “So not Akeelah?” Panic began unfolding in my chest.

  Faris shook his head.

  For a moment that seemed like a good thing, then I remembered that Akeelah’s half-djinn were capable of hurting us. “Oh, crap. What do we do now?”

  To be able to follow us without notice, the half-djinn had probably taken the shape of an animal. Maybe a bird that flew above the car as we drove around. Something that could follow from a distance, so Faris couldn’t sense it.

  “We don’t need to do anything for the moment. Just talk. You sit,” Ma’ Gee indicated Faris’s chair. “And you tell me exactly why you’re here.”

  “Don’t you know already?” I asked.

  “I’ve seen you two coming for years. I always suspected it’d be bad, just didn’t know how bad. Then, a week ago the killin’ started and I . . .” she nodded repeatedly, her eyebrows raised, her eyes pensive, “I understood the time had come. At first, I thought about going away,” she fluttered her hands in the air, like birds, “but I figured Bondye wouldn’t be very happy with me if I did that, since it’s my destiny and all. So I stayed put and here I am, even if I don’t know exactly why.”

  I leaned forward, my voice becoming a barely audible whisper. I imagined Akeelah’s half-djinn listening in, trying to discover what we were up to. We couldn’t allow that.

  “We need your magic.” If she’d known for years that we were coming, if she could sense someone outside, I could only assume she did have magic and could help us.

  “I figured that much.” Ma’ Gee’s voice matched mine, keeping our words secret beyond the confines of her tiny kitchen. “But I don’t see how it can help. I know nothing about,” her eyes shifted to Faris, “these matters.”

  “We have a way,” I said.

  “Do you, now?”

  I nodded, but I also gave a small, involuntary shrug. Frustration welled up inside of me at my inability to appear convincing. We needed to talk this woman into helping us cast an untried spell. My half-hearted assurances wouldn’t accomplish that.

  “Please, help us.” I sounded a bit desperate.

  “You brought them here. What choice do I have but to help?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Ma’ Gee waved her hands as if shooing away my apology. “There ain’t no need for that, child. This could not be avoided one way or another.”

  Faris jumped to his feet abruptly. With way more agility than I’d imagined she possessed, Ma’ Gee did the same.

  “Magic!” Faris exclaimed.

  He’d just finished pronouncing the word when one side of the house imploded. The kitchen cabinets broke in half. Wood splintered. Candles flew in our direction. Hot wax sprayed my face and arms. I closed my eyes and screamed at the stinging pain.

  Suddenly, the rumbling of destruction ceased, and I knew Faris had whisked us out of there, using his own magic. There was no other choice, but I still fought against the notion. We’d managed to stay clear of Akeelah this long, and it had all been undone in one instant.

  She would find us now, and it would be worse than ever. Before she’d only had humans to do her bidding, now she had half-djinn. Several of them. They wouldn’t be as easy to fight off as mere men.

  20

  Faris

  Being found had been inevitable. Only if we did nothing, if we remained hidden and turned our backs on the world, could we have avoided this.

  My magic came to life, filling my essence like a tide. It had been so difficult to hold it back, to refrain from making our trial easier to bear. But now the choice had been taken away from me. />
  I tore a portal open into The Blink and shaped a wish behind the shimmering wall that divided the two worlds. The moment split into a thousand and, in a fraction of those, I snatched Marielle and Ma’ Gee and took them away.

  I’d thought hard and long about what to do if this happened. Before Akeelah created her army, I’d set up safe houses and escape routes all over the world, but those weren’t an option anymore—not when we would need to return to New Orleans once more. We didn’t have the time to flee across the world and work our way back without the benefit of magic. Too many lives depended on us.

  The time to stay and fight was here. There was no running away. And for that, I had come up with the only solution to our escape problem. Marielle wouldn’t like it. Not in the least. I didn’t like it either—not when it made me a liar, a man who constantly broke his promises, but there was no other choice.

  We reappeared on an emergency staircase in a dark alley downtown.

  Marielle will never forgive me for this.

  “Bondye!” Ma’ Gee exclaimed.

  “Be absolutely quiet,” I said as I pushed them over the metal railing straight into a dumpster full of rotting garbage.

  As she fell, Marielle’s hands grabbed for me, trying to hold me. Her green eyes held a pointed accusation laced with a generous portion of disappointment.

  I knew it broke her heart. It broke mine too. But she had to understand. I had to do this. Akeelah’s half-djinn couldn’t hurt me. They might be able to chase me for an eternity—thus keeping me away from everything I loved—but they couldn’t harm me. None of them could. Not even Akeelah.

  So that made this my only option. Marielle would have to see that.

  As soon as she fell into the dumpster, she scrambled to her feet, a hand stretched in my direction. She shook her head, a plea in her eyes.