The Jinni Key

by Bethany Atazadeh

  He held something up, showing it to me. My heart sank at the letter with a name I recognized scribbled on the front. It’d never reached Kadin.

  “What were you hoping to accomplish by this?” Enoch asked as he held it up. The seal was broken.

  I tried to remember exactly what I’d wrote and if I’d given too much away. My heart was pounding so fast—could he hear it? “It’s nothing. Just a note to a friend.”

  We both knew that was a lie. Enoch took me by the arm and forced me to sit in a chair, taking a seat across from me as he placed the letter on the table.

  “You shouldn’t be able to remember this,” he said, watching me with those purple eyes.

  I swallowed and didn’t answer.

  But he and I both knew all he needed to do was ask me directly. Helpless fury filled me, with nowhere to go, until I thought I might explode.

  He sighed. “How are you able to come back to yourself so quickly?”

  And I told him.

  Every secret spilled out of me against my will. The note I’d left myself. The longer note in the bathroom and where I’d hidden it.

  Enoch only nodded before taking my arm and walking me to the bathroom. “Wash it off,” he commanded over his shoulder as he sifted through the towels and found my note exactly where I’d said it would be.

  I took soap and a wash rag from the clean bowl of water, and scrubbed until the ink on my foot was just a dark smear.

  Enoch waited until I was done, parchment in hand, before he left the room. I found myself following him out.

  Back in my sitting room, he opened the door and spoke quietly to the guards. “Remove her writing desk from the room. Make sure every inkwell and every scrap of parchment is gone.”

  No.

  The guards moved to obey while I stood in the center of the room, watching them remove my ability to cry for help or even remind myself of what was happening. The loss hit me like a punch to the gut. It was the smallest possible way to fight back, but it’d been all I had.

  I covered my mouth to hold back sobs when the door closed behind them, leaving me alone once more. Enoch hadn’t bothered to tell me to forget this time. He didn’t need to. There was nowhere I could go, and nothing I could do.

  I hated the tears. They made me feel weak. Clenching my fists, I let myself get angry instead, swiping at my face to clear it. There was one last resort—one last thing I could try, and Enoch couldn’t stop me because he didn’t know.

  Even though it was only mid-afternoon, I would do my best to fall asleep and try to meet Kadin again in my dreams. I could only hope that eventually, if I stayed there long enough, he’d be there.

  Chapter 29

  Kadin

  “HOW MUCH LONGER WILL they be gone?” Bosh grumbled. We sat in the inn’s common room, with two other small groups seated at the surrounding tables. Bosh had been everyone’s entertainment for the last hour or so. While I was busy trying to come up with a plan, Bosh was fodder for their drinking game. With inaudible groans, each of them took a swig. They were growing quite drunk.

  The bartender had guessed the lad would complain only three or four times more before it dawned on him why they’d begun to sip so in sync. The highest guess was that it might take him as many as six, before he caught on. Here they were, still going strong. Even now, I could see another complaint on his lips.

  “Should I go looking for them?” he asked me, concern knitting his forehead together.

  “Is the day done?” I asked him in return, merciless. I didn’t have a lot of sympathy for him right now. There was so much at stake and I had no idea how to fix it. I moved away to pace by the back wall where I could have room to think.

  Bosh joined the game of Castles and Conquerors going on at the nearby table to give me space, but he was distracted by his worries for Rena.

  “I thought it was only a rumor that the Mere could enchant a man with their voice,” another man said, having seen Rena’s gills that morning. His voice carried across the room. He played a card, somehow still winning the latest game, despite drinking as much as the rest of them. “But now I feel quite certain it must be true.”

  They burst out laughing, and I couldn’t help a small smile, as much at the way Bosh blushed, as the jest itself.

  “Is that true?” Bosh spun around to ask me, even more anxious now.

  “Thanks for that,” I said, shaking my head at the man.

  He simply shrugged, his dark face smooth and unreadable as always. “It could be true? Who’s to say?”

  “Very unlikely,” I reassured Bosh when it was clear the man wasn’t going to take it back, coming over to the table to sit and join them. “Think about it. If she could bewitch people at will, then why are the rest of us unimpressed?”

  “I think she’s lovely.” Bosh challenged my statement without meaning to, by remaining utterly captivated. “She’s so honest. I’ve never met a woman who says exactly what she’s thinking like Rena does.”

  I put a toothpick in my mouth to keep from smiling. He had a point. I tried not to think of Arie, but failed. It sobered me immediately. Thinking of all the things between us still unsaid. Or at least, by me. I could only hope it was the case for her as well. I wished there was a way to see her again, but Rena was gone. Not to mention it was the middle of the day.

  With the men on both sides, casually playing the game and chatting, oblivious, I sighed.

  “They’ve been gone a long time,” Bosh said only ten minutes later.

  “Okay, that’s it,” I said, pushing away from the table to stand. “Why don’t we go get a bite to eat and take your mind off it for a while?”

  He hesitated. “What if they come back while we’re gone?”

  “So what if they do?” I shrugged. “They can take care of themselves.” Maybe the break would help me clear my mind. Normally a castle heist came to me easily, but for this one I could hardly think straight. I’d never had a heist that involved stealing a person before. Not to mention a heist that ended with staying at the castle—and not in the dungeons.

  We didn’t talk much until we’d wandered through the marketplace and found something to eat. Taking it with us, we made our way to the beach to sit. The food settled like a rock in my stomach. “If only we could come up with something foolproof to get the Jinni out of the castle,” I muttered, forcing myself to swallow the last bite. Everything we’d come up with hinged on Gideon beating Enoch, and King Amir not being present.

  “I was thinking,” Bosh said, fiddling with the few coins he hadn’t lost in the game, “that Rena might be more helpful than we’ve given her credit for. Maybe even the tipping point to our success.”

  “How so?” My voice dripped with sarcasm. All she’d been so far was trouble. I rubbed my hand over my face. That wasn’t totally fair. She’d helped us find Gideon. She seemed capable enough of helping us, the question was, did she want to?

  “Think about it,” Bosh insisted, waving his food in the air excitedly. “If she comes with us, maybe she could distract Enoch long enough for Gideon to stop him? The Jinni Gifts don’t work on her, so she’d be perfectly safe and he wouldn’t see it coming!”

  My hopes lifted as he spoke. For the first time all day, it felt like the cloudy haze of confusion broke in my mind and a plan shone through, bright and golden. “You know what,” I murmured, more to myself than Bosh. “That just might work.”

  Chapter 30

  Rena

  “A DRAGON?” GIDEON’S BROWS came together, then lifted in astonishment.

  “Mmmhmm,” I said. “I know it’s dangerous, but I’ve always wanted to know what they look like, and I figure if anything happens, we’ll be okay.”

  “How so?” He crossed his arms over his vest.

  “Well,” I shrugged, “between my protection spells, and your ability to travel at any moment, we should be the two most difficult targets a dragon will ever face, don’t you think?”

  He gave a sardonic chuckle, shaking his head. “I
can’t believe I’m actually considering this.”

  “Consider quickly,” I said in reply, shading my eyes. “I assume it’d be better to go while there’s still daylight?”

  Gideon tapped one finger on the head of his cane, staring at the horizon before turning back to me with a huff. “Why not,” he said, and it wasn’t a question, but more of a resignation. “Let’s go.”

  I stepped up to him, trying to be ever so graceful as I placed my hand in his palm, grazing his skin softly in an effort to awaken an interest inside him that I desperately hoped was just buried.

  He grasped my fingers with a firm grip and in the span of a second we shifted from the long grasses, jungle trees, and watering hole, to a barren ground charred by fire. Burnt orange cliffs rose steeply on one side, jutting out in sharp angles, so tall they disappeared into the white clouds above.

  I gaped at the scene.

  A haze filled the air and it smelled like smoke, but faint, like it wasn’t recent.

  My attention was dragged from our surroundings when it occurred to me that I still held Gideon’s hand in mine. Or rather, he hadn’t let go. I drew closer to him, squeezing his fingers lightly.

  But he wasn’t looking at me. Eyes on the horizon, Gideon was tense. “Don’t let go of me,” he whispered, “Dragon’s eyes are sharper than an eagle, but I have us cloaked. As long as you stay with me, they can’t see us.”

  Somewhat of a letdown, yet I would gladly take an excuse to hold his hand. I sidled in even closer, pretending to be worried. “How will we find one?” I asked, exhilarated.

  “Shh,” he put his finger to his lips. He went so far as to lower his head to my ear when he replied. “Dragon hearing is known to be even better than their eyesight. And I can only cloak our appearance, not our sound or smell.”

  “Ahh,” I mouthed inaudibly, nodding my understanding. That would force me to lean in to ask him anything. What a lovely decision this had been.

  I cast about for a good excuse to whisper in his ear, while we studied the skies, searching for any sign of movement. They were clear.

  Then, I gasped. I hadn’t meant to, it just startled me when I spied the silhouette behind the cloud and the speed with which it soared through the sky. Only a black shadow in the distance, its wingspan stretched ten times wider than the dragon himself.

  Gideon covered my mouth with his hand, and I couldn’t even blame him, when the flying figure dove toward the ground at such a speed that it looked like he was falling, growing steadily larger.

  He was coming directly toward us.

  Before he’d even fully taken shape before our eyes, the dragon landed with an enormous crash, not more than a stone’s throw away. I was even more thankful for Gideon’s hand over my mouth now. If it wasn’t, I would’ve gasped again.

  His scales shone like dark black pearls in the sun, glinting in the light, rippling as he moved. I’d thought nothing could compare to the size of our whales back home, but he was at least as large as an orca—with those wings stretched wide, more like three orcas. Even as I thought this, the beast gently folded them in, creating a dangerous yet beautiful arc.

  I jumped a little when he snorted. Fortunately, the blast of smoke from his nostrils and the noise of his landing covered any other sound.

  I’d completely forgotten Gideon.

  Behind me, he stood still as a statue. I’d have turned to look, but his grip was strong, so instead I simply stared at the dragon in front of us where it stood, sniffing the air, curious, almost like the cat I’d seen in the castle stables. A very, very dangerous cat.

  His yellow eyes blinked and the eyelids slipped together from the sides. Fascinating. The black iris reminded me of a cat as well, the way it stretched from top to bottom in the shape of a pointed oval. The way the beast moved, with deliberate thought, spoke of intelligence.

  Without warning, it leapt across the space between us, landing with such fluid grace he could’ve been swimming, wings half spread for balance, falling back into place once he landed. Now he was only a dozen paces away.

  I felt myself start shaking. I was right to be afraid. The deadly creature studied the empty landscape in front of him as if he knew we were there. Smoke trailed out of his nose. I knew the stories. He could breathe fire on us at any moment. Would Gideon be fast enough?

  I tapped my finger against Gideon’s hand soundlessly as a signal. Let’s go.

  The dragon’s long neck arched, elegant and beautiful, as he put one powerful claw in front of the other.

  I began to shake Gideon’s hand, then his whole arm, trying to get my message across. We need to go! Still Gideon didn’t move. His hand still covered my mouth and I debated biting it, but didn’t want to startle him. Besides, I reminded myself, he knows what he’s doing. Doesn’t he?

  As these thoughts raced through my head, the enormous beast dropped back to rest on his haunches. Its colossal wings folded in fully, but even folded, they stretched from just a foot above the ground to the tip of his head. His ears flicked and twisted. Perfect for hearing the softest noises, even a breath close by. I tried to hold mine.

  Finally, I wrenched my head out of Gideon’s grasp, turning to face him and ask to leave with my eyes. If it were possible, the Jinni was even more pale than I’d ever seen him, and his eyes were glued to the dragon, not even seeing me.

  I shook him harder by the shoulder, tempted to slap him out of it. Keeping my grip on his hand so the dragon wouldn’t see us, I felt the tickle of fear on my spine and whirled to face the beast again, only to find those big yellow eyes staring right in our direction.

  No longer on his haunches, the dragon was slowly moving toward us, head lowering.

  Stalking us.

  Panicking, I backed up into Gideon, shaking with terror. Without thinking, I elbowed him in the gut in desperation, hard.

  The oomph of Gideon’s breath leaving his lungs was so slight, but even that was too much. I’d just doomed us to death. The dragon roared—a terrifying, deep, thunderous cry that shook the earth around us and his chest lit up with internal fire.

  We were about to become charred statues.

  I stopped worrying about making noise now, and screamed, one last final ditch effort, “Gideon!”

  As Gideon came to himself and his fingers clenched tighter, the fire growing in the dragon’s throat... stopped.

  With a flash between spaces that I’d come to recognize now, the terrible beast faded from in front of us, replaced by a familiar view of a village and a grassy hilltop that still held the indents from where we’d sat just that morning.

  I cried out, falling to the ground in relief. I ripped my hand out of Gideon’s and screamed at him. “How could you? That thing nearly killed us!” The shrieks tore out of my throat so painfully, it felt raw. Stumbling backward, I put more space between us, irrationally afraid he’d take me back there. “What happened to you?”

  Still pale, Gideon stood staring at nothing, in the same position he had been when he’d stared at the dragon. He looked lost.

  “I don’t understand,” he murmured, more to himself than to me. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “What doesn’t make sense?” I demanded, standing and dusting myself off, trying to quell the shaking that still hadn’t subsided. “The part where we almost didn’t make it out of there alive, or the part where you froze? Because that doesn’t make sense to me either!”

  Gideon blinked as if not really hearing me. “There was something about him, something that reminded me of the connection I have with my bond-brother. But he doesn't have the Gift of Shapeshifting.” He sighed, and the hope in his eyes faded. “It was wishful thinking. After searching for so long, I tricked myself into believing it. I’ve heard legends of what dragons can make you feel, but I’d never experienced it before.”

  “They can manipulate people too? Makes sense to me.” I threw up my hands. “Jinni might as well be dragons in human form. Both of you are beautiful and dangerous.”

  My
fits of yelling seemed to slowly bring Gideon back to himself, especially that last bit. “Beautiful?” he questioned, one of those expressive brows mocking me.

  I felt a blush rising in my cheeks. “You said it first,” I mumbled.

  Now he crossed his arms in disbelief and his brows rose so high they practically asked me out loud to prove it.

  “You said it to me, after I pulled you out of the ocean and I laid you on that rock,” I quoted him in a half mocking tone, “‘You’re so beautiful.’ And then you said, ‘I must be dreaming.’ Which I assume meant you were truly in awe of my good looks.” I blushed as I said this, but I put my hands on my hips and stood my ground.

  “I said that?” Gideon asked. “I said that?”

  I nodded, feeling insulted. “You don’t believe me?”

  “I’m not sure what to believe,” was Gideon’s only reply.

  “Anyway,” I mumbled, crossing my arms. I began walking toward the village, calling over my shoulder. “You’re just lucky the beast stopped. You aren’t nearly as fast as you claim to be.”

  Gideon caught up to me, and the fact that I’d forced him to jog made me unwarrantably smug. “Wait.” He touched my arm for me to slow, holding out his elbow like a gentleman for a lady. If I wasn’t so irked by him, I’d be utterly pleased by the attention. I took his elbow, but kept my gaze forward, snubbing him, and continued on, forcing him to keep up.

  “I wonder,” he murmured, as we entered the town. “Why did the dragon stop?”

  Maybe because what looked like an empty stretch of land suddenly screamed?

  “I don’t know,” I spoke up, “but if you still want your precious Key then you’ve got a lot of making up to me to do before now and the end of the night.”

  Chapter 31

  Kadin

  WHEN RENA AND GIDEON walked into the tavern common room and sat down at our table, the last thing I expected to find was Rena sulking while Gideon was in a visibly good mood.