Mark of the Djinn: A Young Adult Urban Fantasy Romance

by Shiulie Ghosh

  “Why?” Despite myself, I was curious.

  Dhav didn’t answer immediately, and I realised he was studying the mark on my upper arm again. I fought the impulse to cover it with my hand. Abruptly he pushed his chair back.

  “Come with me.”

  Raj sighed as Dhav strode from the table.

  “Apologies, Sam. My brother can sometimes be a little intense.”

  “No kidding.”

  We followed Dhav into another room. It was a small library with shelves on three walls groaning under the weight of books. As soon as I saw it, I was in heaven.

  Reading was one of my guilty pleasures. Books had been my solace in the first few days after gran died. They didn’t judge, they just opened the door to a new world and let me escape for a few hours. I turned slowly on the spot, breathing in that wonderful aroma of leather and paper, wondering how many volumes I could carry back to my room.

  I realised both brothers were watching me.

  “What? I like books.”

  Dhav raised an eyebrow.

  “You surprise me. Most of Raj’s female friends wouldn’t know a book if it hit them on the head.”

  “Not true, brother.” Raj smirked. “I’ve found the Kama Sutra to be a favourite.”

  “What is it you wanted me to see?” I asked Dhav hurriedly.

  He gestured towards the one wall without bookshelves. Instead it was hung with several oil paintings in ornate gold frames, the largest of them in the centre.

  It showed an imposing bearded man in a jewelled turban, wearing a heavily embroidered tunic with a gold sash at his waist, and silver shoes with curly toes. He was surrounded by women and children, clearly his family. The plaque in the corner said Grand Vizier Javar, 1395.

  “An ancestor?” I asked.

  “The last portrait before the family was exiled. But that’s not what I wanted to show you.”

  He pointed to a smaller painting. It showed a girl a little younger than me, maybe sixteen or seventeen. She was dressed in gauzy trousers gathered at the ankles and a top which exposed her midriff. A thin gold chain was fastened round her waist, and her feet were bare. She was staring straight out of the canvas, and even though her face held no expression, I could tell she was sad.

  Her eyes were black, and she looked strangely familiar.

  Then I saw the serpentine mark on her collarbone, and a vice closed over my heart. I couldn’t draw a single breath. As if from very far away, I heard Dhav’s voice.

  “Do you see it brother? Do you see who she resembles?”

  I focused on the small plaque at the bottom corner of the canvas. Amal, 1920. The vice squeezed a little tighter.

  “It’s not possible.” I couldn’t hide my shock.

  Amal was my gran’s name. I’d seen photos of her when she was young. Grainy pictures of her holding my mother as a baby, before her face became lined and her hair grey. But her birthmark, it had never faded.

  It was something else we shared, another family trait along with our eyes. A natural blemish so distinct, most people took it to be a tattoo rather than a birthmark.

  Mine was on my arm. My mother’s had been on her hip. But my gran’s had been on her torso. A small black serpent, adorning her collarbone.

  My gran hadn’t even been born in 1920. But there was no denying it.

  She looked very much like the girl in the painting.

  Chapter Seven

  I examined the portrait minutely. Could this girl be a relative of gran’s? Possible, given they shared the same name. Perhaps her mother or an aunt?

  I wracked my brains, trying to remember if gran had ever said anything about the family she’d left behind when she came to England. But she’d never really opened up about her past life, and I’d never bothered to ask. I turned to Dhav.

  “Who is she? Who is this girl?”

  “She was rescued by my great, great grandfather a hundred years ago from Al Uddin’s palace.”

  “I thought you said he stole their magic?”

  “He did. He stole the ring which bound this creature to Al Uddin, and forced it to grant him wishes.”

  “Creature?”

  Raj scoffed.

  “Honestly Dhav, you always paid too much attention to those old stories.”

  “They were the same stories that father told you, little brother.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean they were real. There’s no such thing as…”

  “Look, can someone explain what’s going on?” I interrupted. “What do you mean, he forced her to grant wishes? Is this some kind of weird sex thing?”

  “No!” Dhav’s sudden anger made me shut up. “She was a supernatural being, one of many enslaved by the Al Uddins. Over the years these creatures were lost or freed, until only one, Amal, remained. She was trapped, as they all were, by an enchanted object. But my great, great grandfather grew tired of scratching out an existence in the desert. So he stole the ring which enslaved Amal and was granted three wishes.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. Raj took up the story.

  “It’s the family legend, and it goes like this. With his first wish, he created Ashfahaan, a rich and prosperous land for the Javars and their followers to settle in. With his second, he trapped Al Uddin in his tower forever, so he could never seek his vengeance. And with his third, he granted Amal her freedom. She took the ring and was never seen again.” He grinned. “It’s quite the fairy tale, is it not?”

  I laughed weakly, conscious of Dhav’s stony expression.

  “It’s a great story. But why is the current Al Uddin out looking for girls with the same mark? Does he think she still exists?”

  “She, or her descendants. He’s looking for girls with birthmarks like hers.” Raj’s gaze roamed over my arm. “But yours is a tattoo, isn’t it?”

  “Or maybe that’s what you want us to think.” Dhav’s eyes drilled into me. “You look like the girl in the painting. And you have the same mark.”

  “That’s just a coincidence.”

  “Is it?”

  I flushed.

  “Are you trying to suggest I might be a… a… what is she, exactly?”

  “A djinn.”

  “A what? A gin?”

  “Djinn, with a silent D. You would probably recognise it by the more bastardised version. Genie.”

  I gave a surprised bark of laughter, and Raj rolled his eyes.

  “Not this again.”

  “Just because it sounds unbelievable, brother, it doesn’t mean it’s not true.” Dhav strode to one of the bookshelves and pulled out a large leather-bound tome. “Amal’s people were one of several tribes in ancient times which possessed some magic. Not much, and seldom used. They kept to themselves. But with the right ritual, their magic grew a thousand-fold. They became the genies of legend. They could conjure cities and make armies out of dust. Create gold and diamonds out of thin air. Turn the wildest dreams into reality.”

  “That sounds pretty cool,” I said uncertainly. Did he think it was all real? He set the book down on the desk and opened it up.

  “Not really. For all their power, they were bound to an inanimate object and forced to obey the will of a master. They were slaves. That’s how the very first Al Uddin built his empire, all those centuries ago.”

  I looked at the pictures in the book. They showed vibrantly coloured drawings of various items. A glass bottle. An oil lamp. A pendant. An urn.

  A ring.

  I caught my breath.

  A rectangular-shaped ruby set in a gold engraved band.

  “Are these…” my voice cracked and I hurriedly cleared it. “Are these the things they were bound to?”

  “They’re called totems.”

  Raj looked over my shoulder.

  “It all looks like rubbish to me,” he snorted. “These are just urban myths, bro. None of these things existed.”

  I silently thanked my stars I’d decided not to wear gran’s ring. It was still upstairs, safely stowed in one of the
dressing table drawers.

  But what did it mean? Was gran related to Amal? Was that why she could control fire?

  “What happened to the genies… I mean, the djinn?”

  “Long gone. It’s said they hid their powers and disappeared into the world of man.”

  I looked at the portrait again, a sense of surrealness settling over me. It couldn’t be her, could it?

  But maybe djinns didn’t age the same way as people. Maybe, once she’d been freed, she had escaped to Europe, far away from the people who’d enslaved her.

  I looked into the painted Amal’s eyes and heard gran’s voice. The colour of magic.

  “You believe.” Dhav’s voice broke into my thoughts. “I expected you to join Raj in mocking the stories. But you believe them.”

  I shook my head firmly, suddenly embarrassed I was even entertaining the idea.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s all fantasy. Genies aren’t real. I don’t know who this girl is, but she’s nothing to do with me.”

  “Nevertheless, Al Uddin is now looking for you.”

  “She’ll be safe here,” said Raj confidently. “I got her out of that trafficking den before his thugs could take her to him. He doesn’t know where she is.”

  “But he has money and resources, brother. He may track her down.”

  “So what if he does? He’s just a madman with agoraphobia who thinks djinn are real.”

  “Madman or not, his reach is long.” Dhav turned to me. “I think it best for everyone if you returned to your own country.”

  “I’m sure you’d like that,” I said shortly. “But I don’t have a passport.”

  “Our jet will take you. Once you are back on your own soil, the British authorities will work it out. But it is imperative you leave Ashfahaan as soon as possible.”

  “She’s not going anywhere,” Raj said angrily. With a jolt, I realised how much he resembled his brother when he wasn’t smiling. “She’s my guest. And the palace is the safest place for her. We have an army outside.”

  “Brother, be sensible…”

  “You may be the Prince but this is my home too!” Raj squared up to his brother, and I saw from the surprise on Dhav’s face it wasn’t something that happened often. “Sam is my guest. If you don’t like it, stay out of our way.”

  Dhav’s eyebrows drew down and he threw me a look of utter disdain. I read his expression clearly. He thought I’d got my hooks into his little brother, and he wasn’t happy.

  My temper flared, and before I could stop myself I took his hand. Earnestly, I leaned forward and met his eyes, making sure his attention was on my face.

  “Your Highness, I understand your concerns. I promise I will leave as soon as possible. But right now, I would like some rest.”

  He was nonplussed, but his innate courteousness won out as I knew it would.

  “Of course,” he said stiffly. “You must be exhausted.”

  “I am. Raj, would you mind walking me to my room?”

  I tucked my arm through his and we walked out, Dhav staring after us in irritation.

  He’d be even more irritated when he realised his Rolex was gone. I smiled to myself smugly, feeling the weight of it in my closed fist. A childish move, but oh so satisfying.

  Raj stopped outside my door.

  “If you are nervous about being alone, I would be happy to act as your bodyguard,” he said casually.

  “You mean, you’d stand outside my door all night?”

  “Or perhaps inside your room? It may be more efficient.”

  “You are incorrigible. Don’t you ever give up?”

  His eyes sparkled.

  “Where you are concerned, my princess, definitely not.” His expression became more serious. “But honestly, I will post soldiers to stand out here all night if you so desire. Whatever you want, you need only ask.”

  I put my arms around his neck and smiled up at him.

  “What if I just want a goodnight kiss?”

  “Your wish is my command, princess.”

  He dipped his head and pressed his lips to mine, softly at first and then more urgently. I enjoyed the way they felt, the way he opened my mouth and teased my tongue with his own.

  He pulled me closer, one hand in the small of my back, the other threading through my hair at the nape of my neck.

  I could see why women loved him, I thought, as I gave myself over to the sensuousness of his embrace. He was a fabulous kisser, and I’d bet he was good at everything else too.

  Regretfully, I ended the kiss and pulled back. I liked Raj, I really did, but I wasn’t cold-blooded enough to sleep with him when we’d only just met. Whatever his brother thought of me, I wasn’t a tramp.

  “Goodnight, Raj,” I smiled.

  He took my hand and pressed his lips to the back of it.

  “Goodnight, my beautiful saviour,” he said softly.

  I closed the door as he left, kicking off my heels with a sigh of relief, then opened my fist. Dhav’s watch nestled there, heavy and very, very expensive.

  “Hm. Daytona Platinum, eighty grand easy. Nice.”

  Shame I couldn’t keep it. It would take Dhav all of five seconds to work out who’d taken it. But if he didn’t find it on me, he couldn’t prove anything.

  I walked out onto the balcony to fling it into the rose garden, pausing as I saw the view by night. The full moon gleamed in the velvet black sky, stars spread around it like glitter. The air was heady with the scent of the blooms below me, and I closed my eyes as I breathed it in.

  When I opened them, a figure was climbing silently over the balustrade.

  I opened my mouth to scream, preparing to call up a blast of wind to hurl the intruder back over the edge. His furious voice stopped me in my tracks.

  “You stole my watch.”

  “Prince Dhavani! What are you doing?”

  I eased the small tendrils of air circling round my fingers, allowing them to dissipate before he noticed.

  “Proving to you that you aren’t safe, not if someone really wants to get to you. It was only when I was halfway up the wall that I realised my Rolex had gone.”

  I held out the watch.

  “I wasn’t going to keep it, your Highness.”

  “I think, in the circumstances, you can call me Dhav.” He put it back on his wrist. “I am impressed, little thief. I didn’t feel a thing.”

  “And I’m impressed you climbed four floors without killing yourself.” I glanced over the balcony. “There’s not even a trellis.”

  “I climb mountains. A little wall isn’t a problem.”

  “Good. So you won’t have any trouble climbing right back down again. Good night.”

  I turned to go inside but he grabbed my arm.

  “I needed to talk to you alone. My brother is infatuated, he is not seeing clearly.”

  “And you’ve come to warn me off, is that it?” I glared icily at his hand, and he dropped it. “Make me an offer.”

  “What?” His brow creased.

  “If you want me to leave your brother alone, you’ll have to pay me. Because I have a feeling Raj could be worth a lot for a girl like me, and I’m not giving him up unless I’m compensated.”

  His lip curled.

  “Are you really that shallow?”

  “I’m what I need to be, your Highness. We can’t all live in palaces and fly around in private jets. A girl has to look out for herself.”

  His jaw tightened, and I saw he was working very hard to keep his temper.

  “I’m not here because of Raj. I’m here because your presence makes us all a target. Al Uddin will surely discover your whereabouts, and if he wants you that badly, he will send forces to take you.”

  “So? He’s in another country. And you have an army.”

  “He has a different kind of army. Not one mine can fight.”

  “God, not another folktale. Don’t tell me, he has an army of vampires, no, wait, zombies marching towards us as we speak.”

 
; I was mocking him, but his expression was grave.

  “You will depart in the morning. Tell Raj you wish to return home, and leave Ashfahaan. And I will, how did you put it? Compensate you.”

  The disgust in his voice made me wince but I raised my chin. He was sickeningly rich, and after everything I’d been through, I deserved a break.

  “I want half a million dollars.”

  “Is that all you think my brother is worth?”

  “Okay, one million.”

  He snorted contemptuously.

  “Why not two? Will that ensure your departure, little thief?”

  “For two million, I’ll leave before dawn.”

  “Done.” He took my hand as if to shake it, then jerked me close. I caught his scent, a mix of cedar and cinnamon. His eyes glittered down at me, inches from mine, and unaccountably I felt butterflies fluttering in my stomach. “But if I ever see you again, I will throw you into the darkest hole I can find and leave you there to rot.”

  For once, my witty ripostes deserted me. I stared at him wide-eyed, realising just how much he despised me.

  And that’s when the screaming started.

  Chapter Eight

  Dhav’s head whipped round. Across the fields, from the direction of the city, the sounds of chaos drifted to us.

  “What’s happening?” I asked nervously. The smell of burning reached my nose, and on the horizon I saw orange flames lick the sky. “Is the city on fire?”

  I went to the edge of the balcony, leaning over it, trying to get a better look.

  “Get back into your room, Samira.”

  Dhav’s voice was terse, but I ignored him. I cocked my head, listening. Something was moving in the darkness below me.

  I could hear rustling among the roses. Someone was prowling in the gardens. I backed away hurriedly.

  “Dhav, there’s someone out there,” I whispered.

  He pulled me behind him and chanced a look over the balcony. There was a low growl and a scraping noise which twanged at my nerves. I saw Dhav’s face pale, and then he pulled me back into the room, slamming the glass door shut and locking it.

  “What is it? Is something climbing up the wall?” I stammered, trying to control my fear.

  “The palace is under attack.” He started flinging open cupboards and drawers, as if searching for something. “I need to find a weapon. Dammit, do you have anything useful? A blade, a penknife?”