“Just a misunderstanding of some kind, is what I’m saying. It could happen to anybody. But whoever the guys are you’re looking for, I can assure you, it’s not us. We’re in the seventh grade.”
Parker really thought that last bit would sell them. Nobody would kill a seventh grader with a machine gun. That would be excessive.
The men, now at the bottom of the ditch, looked at one another. One of them turned to another and said something in a language that neither Parker nor Theo had ever heard. The other guy laughed. Parker smiled. Maybe he had gotten through to them. Maybe they realized they had cornered the wrong guys. Laughter is the universal language.
“Great! So...great! Then we can go?” he said with all the hope of a girl being asked to the prom.
The men stopped laughing. Nadir shook his head as he aimed his gun at Parker and Theo.
“Parker!” said Theo.
Parker and Theo scrambled backward, but there was no place to go. They were going to be killed and left there, literally dead at the bottom of a ditch.
Parker, desperate, grabbed the metal canister. It was the only thing within reach that could possibly pass as a weapon, and even then, it was still just a metal canister.
“Get behind me! This will block the bullets!”
“I don’t think it will!” said Theo.
The kids shut their eyes as Parker held out the canister.
The lamp, Nadir thought. Finally. It would be his. He aimed at Parker’s head.
Later, Parker would wonder why he twisted the canister, and, more important, how he managed to turn the caps on the thing in the exact right way, in the exact right sequence, and then he would come to the conclusion that the thing (or really, what was inside the thing) had wanted him to open it and had somehow given him the combination. That almost made sense, when he thought about it later.
There in the ditch, though, he wasn’t thinking about anything other than how great it would be if he and his cousin weren’t going to die. He was hoping, really, deeply hoping that someone, or something, would save them. You might even say he was wishing it.
B67051—VESIROTH’S JOURNAL, CIRCA 900 B.C.
Chaos reigns in the city as the war between my genies rages on.
Xaru has created an army of his own, ten brother genies that obey him and him alone. Each of his genies is, as he is, a clone of me, but the farther they get from the Nexus, the more twisted they become. They are copies of copies, with each flaw magnified. One genie, I know, has four arms, and two are horrible twins, conjoined at the head. One is made entirely of swarming insects. I hear talk of the others, but alas, due to my constrained circumstances, I have not been myself witness to them. There is a rumor, spoken in hushed voices, that there is one more genie, a genie that Xaru creates as I write this. The last of his brothers will be an abomination, a monster so grotesque as to turn all those who see him immediately into glass. Impressive! If this is true, he will be the greatest power to walk the Earth.
How proud I am of my son Xaru! If not for my condition, I would be standing beside him, laughing as my fellow men are cut down by fire and magick. Xaru is right! There is no reasoning with humanity! They must be put down, one by one, until their wills are broken and they beg for mercy.
Fon-Rahm, the fool, stands with the humans. He is brave but deluded. He cannot win against Xaru’s beautiful genie army. I can hear them as they battle in the skies above the city, and I can feel the ground shake as they trade mighty blows. Buildings fall. Fires burn. Humanity is doomed, no matter how valiantly my first son strives to fend off the inevitable. Men will be slaves, perfectly docile pets for their genie masters.
Some even know that this is for the best. In the West, a cult has sprung up based only on spoken stories of Xaru and his brothers, a group of fanatic men who worship the genies as gods. I applaud their enlightenment. They may be the only wise men left.
The specter of my dead family haunts me. They follow me everywhere now, always in the shadows, never saying a word but simply staring at me with pleading eyes. They are in my chambers even now. I try to talk to them, begging them to forgive me for not saving their lives, but my voice goes right through them, as if I were the one that did not really exist. The sight of them tortures me, but my time grows short, and I suppose I will not have to bear it for much longer.
Word has reached me here that Tarinn has struck a deal with the sultan. He knows that his claims to power fade like smoke from a dying fire, and he is desperate to keep his hold on the city. Tarinn believes that she can trap the genies in metal boxes. She has no chance for success. Her sorcery is strong, but she is no match for my magnificent creations. Let her try and be destroyed with the others for her impudence.
Would that I could be there to see her extermination at the hands of Xaru and his genie army. But I remain rooted here.
Each genie that Xaru creates further takes a piece of my own life force. I, Vesiroth, immortal wizard of untold knowledge and might, am reduced to a state of living death. I move as slowly as the oldest man. Each gesture takes hours instead of seconds. It has taken me days to write this, my final entry before I am frozen like a stone statue for eternity.
My only wish now is to see the triumph of horror over mankind, but it will have to go on without me. When Xaru completes his last genie, all my life force will be gone from me. I will be frozen, a living statue, able to think but not to act. Soon, I fear I will no longer be able to mov
[TRANSLATOR’S NOTE: The author’s handwriting here trails off in an indecipherable scrawl.]
14
THERE WAS A CLAP OF THUNDER. Both Parker and Theo agreed on this, later on. They didn’t mistake it for gunfire, either, because it didn’t sound like gunfire. It sounded like what it might sound like if a bolt of lightning had struck about, say, two feet in front of them.
They didn’t see what happened, because both of them had their eyes squeezed shut in the completely unfounded belief that what they couldn’t see couldn’t hurt them, but they could still hear, and what they heard were gunshots. Lots of gunshots.
Parker, pleasantly surprised to find himself intact and unshot, opened his eyes first. It didn’t help. The ditch was filled with a deep fog so thick that Parker couldn’t see anything at all. He walked a step and tripped over the now-open canister. It was empty. He looked up to see Theo inches from his face. Theo looked as confused as Parker felt.
They heard the men yelling in their strange language, and then more gunfire lit up the fog. One of the men screamed, and Parker and Theo ducked as the man was thrown over their heads. There was a loud crash, and then another loud crash, and then Parker and Theo mashed their hands against their ears as the air was filled with the excruciating sound of tearing metal.
Then there was silence. Parker and Theo rose slowly, waving their hands in a vain attempt to clear away the fog. They stepped over the remains of their bikes and climbed carefully out of the drainage ditch.
The air reeked of electricity. The smell reminded Parker of an old electric train his dad had set up to run around the Christmas tree when he was a kid. His mom eventually made him take it down, because she was afraid it was going to start a fire. It was dangerous.
Through the rising mist, Parker could just make out the three men in suits as they ran away as fast as they could.
Parker stared, his mouth open. Theo tapped him on his shoulder, and Parker looked where Theo was pointing. One half of the black Escalade was in the middle of the trail, and the other half was lodged in the top of a maple tree. The Cadillac had been torn in two.
“Um, Parker?” Theo said.
“Yeah?”
“What just happened?”
“What just happened. Well, there’s got to be some kind of a rational explanation, right? I mean, maybe there was some kind of an electrical storm that...”
Parker trailed off. He could feel, behind him, some kind of a presence.
He looked at Theo, and Theo looked at him, and they both turned slowl
y to see what was behind them.
There, in the thinning fog, was a motionless figure dressed in billowing black robes. Smoke drifted out of his eyes, and lightning crackled down his outstretched arms and off his fingers.
Theo nudged Parker and pointed. The figure was standing, if standing is the right word, two feet off the ground.
“Uh,” said Parker. He couldn’t think of anything to add, so he repeated himself. “Uh.”
After what Parker assumed was two or three weeks, the figure finally moved. Parker and Theo gasped as he landed gracefully in front of them. The figure crossed his arms and took a step toward Parker.
At least we won’t be shot, Parker thought. We’ll be fried by a weirdo with lightning coming out of his fingers. That’s something.
But instead of vaporizing Parker, the genie Fon-Rahm knelt on one knee. He gritted his teeth and spoke his first words in three thousand years.
“You have freed me from my prison,” he said in a voice gravelly from disuse. “I am bound to you. I am in your debt.”
Theo gaped at Parker, and Parker said the first thing that came into his mind.
“Uh,” he said.
“Oh, man,” said Theo.
Theo pointed once again. Reese was in the middle of the bike trail, wearing a sky-blue helmet and sitting on an electric-assist bike her dad had gotten her for Christmas. This was the first time she had ever taken the trail, which promised to be a shortcut from her class at the community college (Latin! Useful!) to her house.
With all of that extra schooling, it was no surprise that Reese could find the word that Parker was groping for.
“Wow,” she said.
15
PARKER, THEO, AND REESE SAT on the edge of Reese’s bed and stared at the figure seated uncomfortably in the purple beanbag chair.
The room was predominantly pink. This was not something Reese could blame on her mother. Reese chose the color for the walls, and she chose the dresser, and the bookcase, and even the purple beanbag chair. In her defense, she was ten at the time. If she had a chance to remake the room, Reese would throw out the academic ribbons and trophies and paint the whole thing black. That would show her mom. Of course, it would be an awful place to sleep or read or talk on the phone. (Not that she talked on the phone much. Who would she talk to?) But all that would really be beside the point.
Reese supposed it didn’t really matter. No one was ever in her room, anyway.
Until now.
“So you were trapped in that thing for how long?” she asked.
The genie shifted and pulled his robes away from his legs.
“Three thousand years. Give or take.”
“And you don’t want a sandwich or something?”
Parker looked at her like she had three heads.
“Really? We find an actual, swear-to-God genie, and all you can think to ask him is what he wants for lunch?”
“He’s a fictional creature of Arabic folklore. What am I supposed to ask him?”
“Uh, where did he come from? Who were those guys that were trying to kill us? Why is he here?”
“These things would be beyond a child’s comprehension,” said Fon-Rahm.
“Who are you calling a child?” said Parker.
“This is so weird,” said Theo.
They had debated what to do with the genie when they were still on the road. Theo wanted to call the police, but Parker wasn’t super interested in explaining how he wound up with the canister in the first place. Besides, this was too good to turn over to somebody else. Even Theo had to see that. Reese suggested that they take him to her house. It was closest, and her parents were at work. They could hide out until they decided what to do. Parker readily agreed. Sooner or later, someone was bound to notice half a luxury SUV jammed into the upper branches of a tree and, quite frankly, he didn’t want to be around to explain what happened.
The genie did not object when Parker told him the plan. Parker, Theo, and Reese got on their bikes and told Fon-Rahm to follow them, and he did. Parker looked back as they were riding and saw Fon-Rahm, his robes billowing in the breeze, as the genie glided over the trail. Parker had expected the genie to be looking straight ahead, but he was surprised to see that Fon-Rahm was actually staring directly at him. It made Parker uneasy.
They made it to the house with no problem. Now they were inside, away from prying eyes, and no one had the slightest idea what to say.
“You’re a genie,” said Reese.
“I am of the Jinn, yes.”
“And we freed you.”
Fon-Rahm raised a finger and pointed at Parker. “He freed me.”
Parker perked up.
“Right!” he said. “I freed him! So he’s mine!”
He turned to Fon-Rahm. “So how does this work? I get three wishes, right?”
Fon-Rahm sighed. He hated to say what he was about to say, but he had no choice.
“No,” he said. “There is no such limit. I must do your bidding forever.”
“I wish I could fly!” said Parker.
“I cannot make you fly.”
“I wish I was bulletproof?”
Fon-Rahm closed his eyes.
“The scope of my power is boundless, but my ability to use it is not. Since you are my”—Fon-Rahm took a deep breath and practically spat the word out—“master, I cannot harm you, and I will not allow harm to come to you. I am compelled to obey you, but there are limits. I cannot change you physically. I cannot turn back time. If you see something you would possess, I can make it yours for a time. I can bestow knowledge in an instant, but it will fade in weeks or days. I cannot make another love you. I cannot change the human heart.”
“Could you take out a few jocks for me?” asked Parker.
“Parker!” Reese said, appalled.
“I don’t mean he necessarily has to kill them.”
“I cannot harm an innocent on your whim.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“I will not harm an innocent on your whim. I will follow your commands, but I will not use my power for destruction and ruin.”
Parker thought for a moment.
“Lame,” he said.
“This is...This is...” Theo stammered for something to say. “It’s unreal. Parker, do you realize what he’s saying to you? You can have whatever you want. You can do whatever you want.”
“That’s true,” said Parker. “I can.”
There was a knock on the door. Parker, Reese, and Theo froze.
“Marisa? Are you home?”
Reese gasped.
“It’s my mom.”
“I thought you said she was at work!” said Parker.
“She came home! She does that after she’s done working!”
Reese popped up and ran to block the door, but it was too late. Her mother pushed the door open.
Reese gasped. “Mom! I can explain!”
Reese’s mother stood in the doorway and took in the scene. Reese knew she was done for. There were two strange boys on her bed and one exceedingly strange man sunk into a beanbag chair made to fit a ten-year-old girl. And, on top of everything else, Reese was supposed to be studying.
Grounded? No, not grounded. There wasn’t a word for what was going to happen to Reese. Buried, maybe.
“Reese,” said her mother, staring at Theo and Parker. “Who are these boys?”
Reese was surprised that her mother wasn’t more upset.
“Uh...” she said.
“Um, I’m Parker? Parker Quarry? And this is my cousin Theo?”
“And why are you here?”
Theo raised his hand. Parker glared at him and he put it down.
“School project?” Theo said.
“Oh,” said Reese’s mom. “Oh. That’s all right, I suppose.”
She looked at her daughter, who was practically hyperventilating.
“It’s fine, Marisa. You can have friends up here. I just want to know about it.”
“Yeah. Okay.”<
br />
Reese’s mother looked back at Parker and Theo. “Do you want some carrots or iced tea?”
“No, thank you, Mrs....” Parker started.
“Lorden,” said Reese.
“Mrs. Lorden. Thanks, though.”
“All right. If you want anything, let me know.” She turned to her daughter. “Don’t forget. Viola lesson at six o’clock. Keep the door open, please.”
And just like that, she was gone. She hadn’t seen Fon-Rahm at all.
Reese quietly closed the door behind her.
Theo pointed to Fon-Rahm.
“You’re invisible!” he said.
“I’m not invisible. If needed, I can...encourage people to overlook me for short periods of time. It saps my strength, but it can be done.”
“So...you’re invisible,” said Theo.
“No,” said Parker, fascinated. “People just can’t see him.”
He flopped backward on the bed, knocking a pink pillow onto the floor.
“Okay,” he said. “Okay. So, first, I think we can all agree that this is something we need to keep to ourselves, right? I mean, this is major. This is the biggest thing since...This is the biggest thing that has ever happened to anybody, probably. We can do whatever we want! We can be rich! We can rule the school!”
“I don’t want to rule the school,” said Reese.
“We can be rich!” said Parker.
“Stop,” said Fon-Rahm.
The kids looked at him. Even squashed into a beanbag chair, Fon-Rahm was a commanding figure. His eyes gave off a faint blue light. He was stern and he was scary.
“I am Fon-Rahm, the first of the Jinn. When I was created, the mountains quaked and the skies turned black. I possess the might of ages. My power is a nation without borders. My eyes bring fear, and my hands, bolts of lightning. I could be the savior of the world or I could be its destroyer. I am not a plaything and I am not to be taken lightly. I will not be used for fun and trifling novelties.”
Theo and Reese were suitably cowed.
Parker, however, sat up. He nodded thoughtfully at the genie and then broke into a grin.
Rebels of the Lamp, Book 1 Page 7
