by Carol Riggs
Karim studies a vague point over my shoulder. “Not at all. For the most part, we reconnected only when the elixir needed to be prepared. Well, and sometimes he joined me to search for you.”
Although I sense these things are true, discomfort emanates from him. He’s not at ease with his statements and I’m not sure why. Maybe it has to do with the djinn entrapment he’s been involved with. My stomach twists. “I hear your father has already abducted his victims.”
“Yes, he’ll begin in the morning after you’ve rested enough.” He hastens against the repulsion that I’m sure is reflected in my eyes. “It’ll all be over by tomorrow afternoon, my love. Then we can begin our lives together. We’ll have an entire century to catch up on what we’ve missed. We can go somewhere far away from Father, just the two of us.”
At the expense of three unfortunate souls. Nausea lodges in the back of my throat. We have to prevent this. I dart a glance toward the kitchen. “The victims,” I whisper. “Is one of them a child, a boy with big fawn eyes and light brown hair?”
His eyes haunted, Karim grits his teeth. “Don’t concern yourself with who they are. It’ll plague your dreams later.”
It’s as though he’s speaking from experience. My resolve falters, then reinforces. I clasp my hands together so hard my knuckles ache. “Karim. I need to know. Is one of them a boy?”
He closes his eyes for a brief moment. “Yes. So Father says. I haven’t seen any of them. There’s a middle-aged woman, an older man, and the boy.”
Oh, stars. Countless stars above. Nathan’s little brother is in the basement. Something shatters inside me, explodes. Karim isn’t trying hard enough to find an alternate way for us to be together. He’s resigned himself to his father’s plans without even discussing options with me. We cannot grasp onto love and happiness at the expense of others.
Scowling, I close the distance between us. “A little boy, Karim? How can you do nothing when your father’s planning to use the years of someone so young?”
Karim hunches his shoulders. “He says the boy knows too much, and he needs the boy’s years to reach the hundred-year minimum. I don’t like it either, Adeelah. Believe me. I just don’t see that we have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice!” My words are loud, shrill. “You’re being selfish! You’ve lived for a thousand years. So have I. This boy hasn’t even lived a decade. None of these people deserve to die.” I grab at his shirt to shake some sense into him, past caring it’ll feel unpleasant to me if I happen to touch his skin. To my astonishment when I yank him closer, my fingertips graze the hardness of his chest. They don’t pass through him.
I yelp and drop his shirt like it has scalded me.
Karim’s eyes bolt into stark roundness. Our gazes lock in place.
I’ve touched him.
Chapter 22
My breath catches in my throat. I just felt the solidness of Karim’s breastbone, a firm sensation when I gripped his shirt. I’ve touched a human being. While that’s amazing, what does it mean? Surely I haven’t deteriorated to the point I’m losing my protective capabilities, my defense against human touch.
But that’s exactly what it has to mean.
Faruq strides into the room clutching a greasy spatula, his face venomous. “What’s going on? Is this some confounded lover’s spat?”
Karim and I snap out of our shocked stare.
“No, nothing like that,” Karim says in haste, his gaze ricocheting from me to his father and back. “She’s upset because I said her former master’s little brother is downstairs.”
“Well, stop telling her things like that,” Faruq says. “She doesn’t need to know everything. Your time for blathering is up anyway. The food’s ready.”
“Yes, Father.” Karim swaps a glance with me that indicates we need to speak further at some point. “Although I didn’t get to spend much time talking, considering I had to wait so long to see her.”
My blood races. No. I can’t go back Inside. We haven’t decided what to do, and I want to give Karim a quick hug and kiss. Although the latter might not be possible yet.
Faruq makes an abrupt noise at Karim. “You two can indulge in your silly romance later. I don’t want Adeelah traipsing around out here too long, depleting her powers further. We’ll leave her in there until morning, right before we’re ready to seal the elixir.” His wish for me to be bottled rises up like a tempest in his mind, and I’m half-dissolved into smoke before he utters the actual words.
As soon as I’m fully formed, I pace around my center table again. I adore the possibility of Karim touching me, but that means others can also touch me. I’ll be vulnerable to injury and death in the human world. My knee scrape on the roadway must’ve been the first signs of my protective abilities dissolving. Although I could be dying anyway as my genie powers fade…
I sink to my cushions and moan. Besides my personal dilemmas, Faruq will kill David tomorrow. Whatever it takes, I must convince Karim to reject his father’s plans and save the victims. Tomorrow, I have to try again. Time is running out.
An agonizing stretch of time passes. When the gong sounds again and ripples me into smoke, I reappear in the room containing the two chairs and the lantern. But something is wrong with my arrival. The walls spin. The furniture whirls. I clutch my stomach and gag. I stumble, gripping the wooden chair to keep me upright.
Once the overstuffed chair across the room stops spinning, I manage to straighten.
Faruq stands to my left, his face not quite in focus. “What the devil was that all about?”
“Just…some dizziness,” I say, short of breath. “Being summoned Outside made me nauseated.”
His grip tenses on my bottle. “Is the nauseeahh overr? Wihlyew be aybihl teu fwagronodz dhre—”
“What?” I say. “Heavens above, I can’t understand what you’re saying all of a sudden.” Even what I just said sounds different from my words about being dizzy and nauseated. I have no idea what language I’m talking in.
Karim walks into the room. “I’ve washed the ceramic bowls, Father. What’s going on, Adeelah?”
I understand him fully. He’s speaking our native tongue, which must be the language I just spoke. “Karim! I can’t understand what your Father’s saying.”
“Why not?” He starts toward me, his brow wrinkled.
Faruq lets out a sharp exhale. “Maybe because I’m in the habit of speaking English. Do you understand me now?”
“Yes.” My legs wobble like a newborn lamb, and I’m still a little dizzy. I must be losing more of my powers, even automatic communication and the ability to emerge from my bottle properly. I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all.
“We must act swiftly if we want to make the elixir today,” Faruq says to Karim. “I’ll start the subjects on the herbal mixture.” He moves toward the kitchen, but Karim grabs his arm.
“Wait. Maybe we should wait a few days until Adeelah’s more rested.”
“She’s had most of yesterday and all night,” Faruq says. “That will hopefully be enough for today, and then I’ll let her rest more and regain her normal powers for later.”
He’s lying, I’m certain of it. I glare to mask the tremulous way I’m breathing. “I don’t think I can be restored any further. And you know it. It’s now or never.”
“Is that true?” Karim coils his free hand into a fist.
Faruq hesitates, then gives a brief grunt. “Very well, yes. It’s doubtful she’ll recover. When I wished for the final djinn we entrapped to locate Adeelah, the beast took great delight in telling me a human transformed into a genie only lasts one thousand years. There are expiration dates on potions and ongoing wishes like this—which the first djinn neglected to tell me. Also, her overall genie lifespan is shortened if she grants a lot of difficult wishes and spends an inordinate time outside her bottle.”
Shock and anger color Karim’s face. “I can’t believe you’ve known that since 1977 and didn’t bother to tell me.”
<
br /> “It wouldn’t have made any difference, except adding unnecessary stress. I was going to tell you after we made the elixir.”
“I would’ve rather known all along.” Karim’s words are clipped. “Are you telling me Adeelah is dying?”
“Don’t be melodramatic,” Faruq says. “The spell is ending, that’s all. But from the way she’s deteriorating, she might be able to perform one more substantial wish, nothing more. There’s no time to lose. Keep an eye on her so I can start the sedation. I’ll grab the bowls once the subjects are near expiration.”
“If the spell is wearing off, am I going to be human again?” I ask in a faint voice.
Faruq shoots me a look of loathing. “That’s correct.”
I exchange a weighty glance with Karim. While I’m glad, this is an unexpected complication. If he drinks the elixir today, he’ll remain nineteen for the next century and I’ll die long before he does.
“This doesn’t change anything,” Faruq says. “Except we’ll have to do all the blasted bloody cleanup ourselves if she has no power left after the sealing. Discuss your lovelorn ramifications later. We’re wasting time.” He whisks into the kitchen, and a distant door slams.
Karim lets his arms go slack by his sides. “You won’t be able to stay young with me. There’s no point in me drinking the elixir.”
“No—and if I don’t have enough power left to seal it, these people will die for nothing.”
He straightens. “Father thinks I’m addicted to long life the same as he is. But I’m not, and he has to be stopped from killing any more people. I’m calling the police.”
“Won’t you get arrested with him?”
“None of the victims have seen me. I’ll tell the police I arrived and discovered Father’s twisted plans. It’ll be his word against ours.”
“That’s good, but hurry! Stop him before you call the police. Overpower him, tie him up, or knock him unconscious.”
Karim shakes his head like a dog wrestling with an unwanted leash. “I can’t hurt him. He’s the only family I have left. Sending him to prison is bad enough.”
“Tying him up won’t harm him,” I say in a heated whisper. “Please. I can’t do anything to stop him since he’s still my master. I doubt I’m even solid enough to try.”
“I’m calling the police first. We’re way out in the middle of nowhere and they need time to get here. In case Father returns, I’ll call from the bathroom.” He strides away, pulling out his phone and tapping in three numbers.
The room goes quiet. My heart pounds in my chest. This delay is unwise. What can I do? How long does it take for the herbal mixture to take effect and someone’s life blood to be spilled? With my deteriorating powers I might be able to skirt my bottle’s restrictions and attack Faruq, but if I fail, I’m certain he’ll kill me right after he orders me to seal the elixir.
A clunk and a set of footsteps make me jump. It’s Karim, returning to the living room. “They’re coming as soon as they can,” he says in a low voice.
I draw in a light breath as he takes my hand in his. His touch is pleasant, only sinking into my skin a little. “Wonderful. Now we need to stop—”
A shout rends the air. I spin to find Faruq in the kitchen doorway. He holds my bottle, staring at our linked hands as if it were the most horrifying sight imaginable.
“Father…” Karim begins.
Faruq curses. “It’s over. All our efforts to find her have been for nothing.”
“What the devil are you talking about?” Karim slides his arm around my waist.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Faruq says, stabbing a finger at us. “You’re able to touch her. It’s the last sign of a generated genie’s waning powers. If she’s that solid, she won’t be able to make the elixir. It’s not going to work.”
His words reach my ears, but I can’t believe I heard them.
“Are you sure?” Karim asks.
Faruq’s expression darkens. He gives a strangled yell and heaves my bottle across the room. It smacks against the wall—and unbelievably, as if it were made of fine crystal, it breaks into thousands of tiny glass shards.
Chapter 23
A blinding light pierces my head. I scream and slip from Karim’s arms to my knees. What feels like fiery starbursts explode down my arms and legs, and my chest is squeezed by something huge and unseen. All the hairs on my body sizzle. I gasp, leaning over until I’m pressing my face to the musty carpet.
In my vague peripheral, I sense Karim bending over me. His words filter into my ears along with a rush of high-pitched wind. I breathe through clenched teeth until the pressure on my lungs and heart eases.
The painful fire in my limbs fades. The dark, oppressive force that holds me begins to disintegrate, releasing invisible chains. I’m left wrung out and limp. Wilted. I breathe out, a great rattling exhale.
Faruq’s presence in my mind is gone. He’s no longer my master.
Splinters of glass lie scattered across the carpet. They glitter in the light that slants in from the kitchen. It’s unreal. My rings, earrings, and bracelets have vanished. Everything about me has changed—it’s too much to take in.
My once-indestructible bottle is broken.
At this moment, I might be fully human again. Human.
“Karim.” My voice is hoarse.
He caresses my hair. “I’m here, my love. Right beside you.”
All I see of Faruq are his expensive leather shoes and a portion of his pants. He kicks at a clump of shards. They scatter, tinkling like wind chimes. “That’s it, son.” His voice is thick and heavy. “This bottle’s power is broken, and since no djinn will come near us anymore, you and I are mortals forever. Just like the pathetic desert weed at your feet.”
Karim doesn’t answer. His breathing flutters my hair as he crouches beside me. His immortal life is over. Neither of us will live longer than a normal human lifespan. I push into an unsteady sitting position. “Faruq. The people you drugged downstairs…you can’t use them for the elixir, so we have to return them to their homes.”
“Nonsense,” Faruq snaps. “They’ve seen me and they know too much. We need to finish them off right away. I’ll dump their bodies in the nearby lake.”
“You can’t do that!” I try to gather my strength. Will the police arrive before these people are killed? I can see by the apprehension in Karim’s eyes that he doesn’t think so.
“I’ll help you, Father,” he says. At this point, I don’t know his exact plans. His steady glance, however, bolsters me.
Faruq gives a brisk nod and stalks from the room.
“Karim,” I whisper. “Stall him!”
“I’ll try.” He takes a deep breath and jogs after his father.
I push my hair from my face and follow him on weak legs. At the other end of the long kitchen, Karim ducks through a doorway. He takes a set of steps leading down to the basement. He leaves the door ajar. I stare at the dark gap, fear and panic burning their way up my throat. Nathan’s fair-haired brother is down in that darkness, as well as two other drugged people.
Will Karim be able to stop Faruq from killing everyone?
David’s life is in danger. I can’t assume Karim will be able to save him.
That thought snaps me into action. I yank open a kitchen drawer and find a few bent spoons. The next drawer contains a small rusty knife. Its edges are serrated like fierce teeth. I grip it hard and stagger to the basement door. Breathing open-mouthed, my heart hammering, I descend the steps.
I’m all too aware that I’m now able to be injured. Or killed. Even holding this knife, I feel powerless, exposed.
Heated voices rise up the narrow stairwell. Faruq and Karim are arguing, though I can’t hear distinct words. The air grows dank, mildewy. I reach the bottom step. A lantern hangs suspended from a hook in the ceiling, throwing shadows into a space containing stained food containers, dirty clothing, and a rotted mattress. Another set of stairs across from me leads up to what I assume is a
n exterior door, and two rooms adjoin the littered space. One room’s door is ajar a few inches, and that’s where Faruq and Karim are quarreling.
I dash to the second door, the closed one. The knob creaks under my hand, and I wince and slip inside. I push the door closed except for a tiny gap. A lantern sitting on the floor gives feeble illumination to the room.
My heart nearly stops as I make out two figures, a man and a child, bound with ropes at their wrists and ankles. The man lies on a workbench built into the wall. The child is David, stretched on his back across a table, the bindings on his feet secured to the table legs. I don’t know where the third victim is—perhaps in the other room. The odor of a strong herb permeates the place. David’s eyes are closed, his mouth gagged.
I hurry over and touch his shoulder. His eyes snap open, and he makes a muffled squeal before he recognizes me. His eyes are watery, his nose runny. I make a shushing motion with my finger against my lips, and begin sawing with my knife at the rope around his wrists.
The binding severs. Next, I work on his ankle restraints. The man rustles and grunts across the room, but I keep sawing.
Once David’s legs are free, I signal him again not to speak, and remove his gag. Dust tickles my nose. At the same time, the voices in the adjoining room fall silent.
Holding my breath, I wait a few seconds until I hear muted thumps coming from the next room. I set down my knife and try to slide David off the table. He’s slippery and soft since my sense of touch isn’t complete yet. His legs buckle. His skin is clammy. A sickly yet sincere smile flits across his face.
“Adeelah,” he whispers, and adds words I’m unable to understand.
“Shhhh,” I say. Unbelievable. Even after I warned him to be quiet, he still doesn’t know how to obey. I half-carry, half-drag him toward the door and leave him lying near it.
