Storm Crazy

by Livia Quinn

  “Not in the last couple days,” he said.

  I thanked him and drove to the Tricked-Out Tarot to meet a man who dealt in amphoras and demijohns. The vase I’d found at the house was just that, a flower vase with a cork stopper. Dylan had said it wasn’t secure enough for a Djinn force.

  If I’d known it would be this difficult to find an appropriate genie bottle replacement, I’d have arranged a backup. But Dylan didn’t know of one, and promised to find someone to ceremonialize a new one.

  The Tricked-out Tarot was a hole in the wall, actually a narrow alley walk between two tall brick buildings; tall in Destiny being three stories. The far end of the alley was dark, but I saw light filtering around the corner and heard what sounded at first like guitar music, but turned out to be ukuleles and Blue Hawaii. I expected hula dancers, definitely not the Elvis impersonator who stepped from behind a curtain at the front desk. He eyed me for a moment, then smiled and said, “Tempest Pomeroy. You resemble your mother. Come in. Come in.”

  Most women hope they can avoid being compared with their mothers. We like to think we’ve learned from their mistakes and think we will not turn into a duplicate. That particularly applied to Phoebe and me, but I’d heard this comment enough that after the initial irritation I took it in stride. He held the curtain aside while I ducked into the room decorated in red velvet. Tacky didn’t begin to describe…

  “You mentioned you are looking for a replacement vessel?” Elvis stooped behind the counter and came up with two of the ugliest containers I’d ever seen. One was fat at the bottom and narrow at the spout resembling a teepee—and it was orange. The single slender opening at the top where the inhabitant’s smoke would exit, or the inhabitant himself, was tiny making me claustrophobic on the future homeowner’s behalf. It wouldn’t be my brother. I guess I should be less “choicey” as Bailey says, considering I was desperate.

  The next was twin bottomed, who knew? I couldn’t begin to imagine how a genie could make use of the thing. “What is this, a bong?”

  Elvis just rolled his eyes and shrugged as if to say “can’t blame me for trying” and swapped the ugly mustard colored thing for another—an amphora.

  I moved toward it the second it touched the glass counter. A stunning gem-studded blue, it resembled the moonlit sky. I picked it up. The shape and weight of it was perfect. Unfortunately, this amphora was a single entrance model.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name…Mr.—?”

  “Presley.”

  Of course. “Mr. Presley. Do you have a flashlight?” I was wasting my time on this bottle—one entrance simply wouldn’t do. I know, most Djinn don’t bother—they opt for the single entrance and rely on advanced warning systems, like their human masters or familiars, but the one thing River was adamant about was not relying on others for his own security.

  All of River’s previous bottles had had emergency exits.

  I took the flashlight from Elvis and peered into the exquisite piece. The interior was lined in smoky blue and gold velvet, and when I ran my fingers around the inside edge to determine the makeup of the glaze, I felt the tug against my flesh that only the iron infused glaze can produce.

  I sighed, handing him back the flashlight. Best not give away my interest.

  “I don’t know. It’s got the basics and it’s lovely, but I was looking for one with two door—openings and unless these gems are zirconia, I imagine the cost is more than I can afford.”

  One thick black eyebrow hiked up under the ‘Elvis’ lock on his forehead and his lips pursed. I could almost see him adding each tiny gem up in his head. Not good.

  Again, he reached under the counter and brought out a straight rod about the height of the bottle. With the flair of an illusionist he made a show of pushing up his sleeves, running two fingers around the length of the rod, a display to illustrate it was clear of any strings or attachments. Then he inserted it straight into the amphora until only an inch of the brass rod remained above the opening. He motioned for me to place my index finger on the end and removed his own. Then he tapped the pad of his index finger against the countertop to demonstrate.

  Holding the rod between my thumb and third finger I pressed with my own index finger as shown. Nothing. He said, “Two seconds,” placing his hand palm up next to the amphora.

  I pressed for two seconds and something tiny flew off the side of the container. Elvis caught it in his hand and opened his palm for me to see. One of the larger gems lay in his hand and when he rotated the amphora I could see a tiny hole in the dark blue exterior and light...

  He smiled slyly at my stunned expression. Oops, I was about to give away all my negotiation power.

  “How does it work?”

  “There is a hidden release under the rug off the center near the couch. He simply toes it up and presses, and voilà—he’s out of that little Heartbreak Hotel.”

  “Excellent. Unfortunately, it’s still out of my budget.”

  “Ah,” he stroked his chin, the corner of his lip curling in a familiar smile. “I think we can work out some kind of deal, an exchange of services perhaps.”

  This was going to cost River. But time was of the essence and the midnight blue amphora would be a spectacular upgrade to the old one. It was beautiful, iron infused, and secure. And truth be known, I’d take out a second mortgage if necessary to purchase it for my brother, so after some negotiating I held out my hand.

  “Deal.”

  He swiveled his hips and with that infamous wiggle of hips said, “Thank you. Thank you very much!”

  I got a call from Montana after sealing the deal for the new amphora, which was secured in a covered box behind my seat.

  “Hi, Montana.”

  “Hey, Temp. Just thought you’d like to know the last night of class has been postponed until Tuesday—instructor had a conflict. How was your day?”

  “I filed the Missing Persons papers and while I was there Peggy informed me that the sheriff had a search warrant for Harmony. Ever since I met that man, it seems like my world has been turned upside down. It’s so frustrating. He believes me one minute and the next, he’s searching my house. And listen to this. The variant? They found multiple phone calls to Phoebe on his phone bill. What could that mean?”

  Montana was silent for a few seconds.

  “You there?”

  “Thinking. I don’t know, Temp. Something’s definitely going on around here, like Aurora said, things seem to be building toward the two moon coincidence. Have you seen Aurora yet?”

  “I’m on my way. Why?”

  “Because I think it’s time you explore your potential. You can’t put it off any longer.”

  She was right. For too long I’d downplayed the extraordinary abilities of my mother and father, and tried to think of my brother and myself strictly in human terms, even after River morphed into his genie-hood.

  “Tempe, you know I love you, and I didn’t see anything wrong with you sticking your head in the sand—don’t get your weather radar up when I say that—because it wasn’t time. There wasn’t anything pushing you until now.”

  I sighed. “Yes, but what if my knowing, training, practicing sooner meant River wouldn’t be in trouble now—”

  “I don’t believe that, but ask Aurora if you need reassurance.”

  “Okay.”

  “Tempe.” She paused. “You’re not human. You might as well learn to accept it.”

  “I know.” It wasn’t a welcome admission.

  Chapter 25

  “Why do people always tell you to breathe? I breathe all the time.”

  * * *

  Tempe

  Aurora met me at the door to her shop. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I rammed my fingers through my hair, spun around. “Everything—I don’t know.” I walked into her back room and she followed, watching me.

  “I feel like—” My hands fisted involuntarily. I stretched them out then gripped the counter. “I can’t describe it. Lik
e I’m going crazy.”

  “Sit, Tempe. And breathe.” She moved smoothly to the small kitchenette.

  I put my head on my folded arms and breathed. It didn’t help. “Why do people always tell you to breathe? I breathe all the time.”

  “Okay, valid point.” A cup of steaming herbal tea appeared in front of me as Aurora dragged a stool up to the table. She lifted a strand of my hair and smoothed it behind my ear. When she’d done it the first time, alien as tender demonstrations of affection were from anyone but my brother, I’d jumped like a scared cat.

  “Try this—with me. Take a deep slow breath.” She closed her eyes and inhaled for about six seconds, her head tilting back slightly. She opened one eye to check on me. “Drop your shoulders. Breathe from here,” she said patting her diaphragm. I did. I felt her tap my shoulders, and my eyes opened. “Now slowly, deliberately, let the breath ease out of you.”

  She made me do it two more times. “Better.” She smiled.

  I studied this woman who had been friend, substitute mother, sister; and would be mentor and teacher if I’d give up my obstinate rejection of my heritage. Though people often described her as elegant and mysterious, a force to be reckoned with, like a regal lioness ready to take down a meal for her young; what I admired was her inner strength, the peace she radiated and especially, the complete mastery over her inner reserves of power and emotion.

  Her attire was chosen to have a calming effect on those around her. Today it was the watery blue and aqua silks in various overlapping lengths, under delicate strands of shimmering gemstones that fell to her waist and framed her amulet.

  Her azure gaze locked on mine. “You feel like your thoughts and feelings are out of control. You’ve been able to manage it, push it down before, but suddenly it’s like debris in a whirlwind. You feel—”

  “Like I’m about to come apart. Isn’t that bad?”

  She took my hands in hers. They were hot. “It’s normal.”

  I cocked an eyebrow at her. “I hope not.”

  She laughed. “For someone about to go through her quickening.”

  “And that’s not encouraging.”

  “How much do you know about the Vyal K’allanti?”

  Not much. My parents hadn’t been around to guide River and me. River took on his genie power when he turned fourteen, but I’d determinedly avoided all discussions of mine, as if that would keep it at bay forever. I’d only made things worse.

  “Isn’t it the same as the quickening? I know when River’s started. He was in the ninth grade.”

  “That’s about right. Most males experience their quickening during puberty. I actually remember when his began. Dylan served as guardian for him until his Vyal K’allanti was complete.”

  I nearly spilled my tea, setting it down with a clank. “How could I not have known that?” Aurora’s sleek silver cat curled around my legs, purring as if Aurora had enlisted its help in calming me down. I thought back to that time.

  “It was a few months before I turned twenty-one. I’d been working a lot trying to get a career position at the post office—before the new company took over. Phoebe wasn’t around much and social services kept butting in and threatening to take River away from us.”

  “There are few young people who could accomplish as much as you have to keep your family together. Tell me what you remember.”

  I peered into the cup, thinking back to River’s fourteenth birthday. “Phoebe made River a cake for his birthday. I found out later, she had someone else bake it for her but it was home made and at least she’d remembered. It was more than she’d done for my birthdays.” I winced, looking at Aurora. “Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t jealous, just surprised. River had been, too, the shock on his face made me want to cry.”

  “Dylan was there—he must’ve been about twenty-seven then.” He’d looked twenty-seven anyway. “I had wondered because he always seemed to be around… if there was something going on between him and my mother, but later he assured me they were just good friends—he, and Phoebe, and Dutch.”

  I closed my eyes revisiting that bittersweet time, realizing now that Dylan had essentially filled in for Dutch. Then it hit me.

  “Mother knew.” She must have recognized the signs of River’s emerging power and arranged for Dylan to be there as a guide to protect River, and everyone else, from himself.

  “I’m sure she did,” Aurora said.

  “But that was so out of character,” I mused.

  “Or maybe things weren’t quite as they seemed,” Aurora said, cryptically. “What happened at his party?”

  “When Phoebe set the cake down, River’s eyes got huge. It was this gorgeous, red glazed, strawberry thing—he’s crazy about strawberries—four layers with fourteen silver candles on top.”

  River’s eyes had reflected the light from the flames, flickering and bouncing, until he looked at me and I realized the glow, like gold and aqua fired coins, was not a reflection.

  “He changed in front of my eyes—his shoulders broadened, his features became angular, chiseled.”

  Pride, fear, and love warred for first place inside me. The candles flickered furiously and it seemed as if the air was being vacuumed out of the room. Aurora leaned forward. “Then what happened?”

  I closed my eyes trying to capture every detail. “River had this look of awe on his face and at first he seemed uncertain. He looked down at his lap, at his hands on the table. He wiggled his fingers like they tingled. Dylan stood up and motioned for River to do the same.”

  “Instead of pushing his chair back and standing up, River—his upper body expanded like a balloon filled with helium. He levitated above the chair so I could tell the lower half of his body was indistinct, not like smoke but like a white transparent fog.”

  I snorted at the memory. “He looked down at himself and grinned at me, a wide goofy grin, and then he threw back his head and laughed. It was a huge booming laugh, like father’s. It startled us all, but River the most. He fell over the chair, down behind the table.” Dylan was nearly beside himself with laughter. Then my brother, the newborn Djinni floated up above the chair again, this time with a look that wavered between embarrassment and concentration.

  Dylan said, “Very good, River. How do you feel?”

  River had this mischievous quirk to his smile, something I’d never seen on him. He wanted to stir something up, make some trouble. “I could swat the world like an annoying fly.” He turned to me and thought, “Like I could bring you the moon.” And I’d heard him.

  Phoebe remained silent throughout River’s emergence but made eye contact with me. There was such sadness and regret in her eyes that remembering it made the tea in my stomach roil.

  Dylan frowned. “Well, maybe one of these days, but right now you have to start small and learn the ropes about granting wishes.”

  “How do I do that?” He asked Dylan looking down at himself.

  Dylan said, “You don’t have to try—it comes natural. At this point if you ask for something that’s not allowed, nothing will happen. There’s a lot that’s off limits to you until you are mature enough to handle it.”

  River looked at the candles on the cake for a long time. His genie self had stabilized into just a fluffier version of his human form, but one I could still see through. Just when I began to think he’d fallen into a trance or something, he gazed at me and I heard him across the mindlink, “I wish I could see dad again.”

  The laughter stopped. My brother stood stoically, shoulders straight, his gaze locked with my tear filled eyes as a stricken sob escaped my mother. She rose slowly, locking eyes with Dylan.

  “That’s a dumb wish, your father’s gone,” our mother said across the link. Pain flickered across River’s face and straight into my heart.

  Dylan knew something had transpired between us. He said, “You can’t make wishes for yourself.”

  “How about some cake?” River tried to smooth things over by getting up and putting an arm aroun
d mother and me, but I couldn’t look at her, didn’t want to even be as close as the distance across River’s now massive body. How could she have been so cruel? That was the last time I communicated with her through the mindlink.

  * * *

  I looked at Aurora across the counter, felt the tears trailing down my cheeks, but it was as if they belonged there, as if by wiping them away I would lose the memories.

  “That was the first I’d known about what was happening with River, and in a matter of a few minutes he was a full-blown genie. It happened so fast. We didn’t know what to expect, other than the fact that Dutch was Djinn, and Phoebe was a Tempestaerie. We assumed we’d follow in their paths, but I have very few memories of Dutch or Phoebe using their talents.”

  I could see the whole event like it was yesterday. I remembered feeling excited, and a little scared. I hadn’t known what to expect. But River had matured in front of me. His solemn eyes met mine and pride swelled inside me. My little brother had grown-up into the being he was supposed to be.

  I looked at Aurora. “I think I resented him a little because he’d moved forward and I…” How could I admit this to Aurora? She would be even more disappointed in me.

  “You wanted to keep him human with you.”

  I looked away. “That’s horrible. What kind of sister was I to try to hold him back?”

  She squeezed my hand. “It was only natural that you resented your mother and father for leaving and didn’t want to follow their path. Once he went through the change you felt like he’d left you as well. Am I right?”

  I thought about it. “Yes, and when years passed and it didn’t happen for me, I started to wonder if I was really…if maybe I was adopted, or if maybe it just fell flat with me, you know, like a dud charge on fireworks. Especially since I was the only one in the family with no talent.”

  “Power.” Aurora corrected. “Or magic. Powerful magic,” she reiterated knowing how often I’d resisted the word power. You’re not adopted, and you’re not a dud.”