“You’ve found dragon relics?” Geoffrey asked. “Here on Earth?”
“I have,” James said with a pleased smile. This was the kind of reaction he’d been waiting for. “Wyvern scales to be precise.”
Geoffrey’s mouth screwed to the side as his gaze slipped to the pavement. “Wyvern relics are powerful, but far more unpredictable than simple dragon magic. They can be dangerous.”
“Maybe in the hands of a simple man like me,” James said, letting the concern roll off his shoulders. “But not if their magic is manipulated by the greatest magician of all three worlds.”
Geoffrey lifted his chin just high enough for James to see his glare. “Your flattery won’t work on me, thief.”
“I don’t see why not,” James said. “It works on everyone else.”
“Not the waitress,” Fenrir baited him with a laugh.
James merely shrugged.
“Forget the braggart,” Bron said to Geoffrey. “Can you do it?”
The magician narrowed his eyes in thought. “Perhaps. Wyvern magic is complex. It requires a vessel whose blood is filled with righteous passion.”
“And what could be more righteous than our mission to defy a tyrannical king?” James asked.
Shay slowly shook his head. “But even if Geoffrey can control the magic, where does that put us?”
“One step closer to getting home,” James answered. “Once I have the wyvern scales—”
“Once?” Fenrir demanded, his voice loud enough to rattle the remaining glasses on the table. “You mean you don’t have this one either?”
“I have a plan to steal them next Sunday,” James answered.
“Another plan?” Fenrir growled. “That’s not very reassuring.”
“Have a little faith, wolf,” James said, shooting the overgrown creature a glare. “I’m not some corner pickpocket. I’m the best thief this world, or any other, has ever seen.”
“Is that how you see yourself?” Shay Madrid asked with a dark laugh. “Because from what I’ve heard, the legend of Captain Hook brought to this world by previous exiles wasn’t half as flattering.”
“It seems to me that all of our stories got a little mixed along the way,” James responded, his charming smile faltering a touch as he met the jinni’s gaze. “Or should I switch out the apartment I found you for a lamp?”
“How many relics have you actually acquired since landing here?” Geoffrey asked.
“A few.”
The magician narrowed his gaze. “How many?”
“Twenty-seven.”
Geoffrey’s eyes sparkled. “So many? We should divide them up. It isn’t safe having such an arsenal in one place.”
“Isn’t safe for who?” James’ jaw tightened. “I assure you everything in the collection is well warded and secure right where it is. Nothing is going to happen. But if it makes you feel any better, I promise to bring you the wyvern scales as soon as I have them in my hand.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Geoffrey said with a guarded smile. “It might take me some time to figure out how to safely harness their raw magic.”
“And then what?” Bron asked. “Even if you do manage to communicate through the Threshold with Hades, how can we believe a word the bastard says? Oberon may be bad, but Hades is evil. Have you not heard the stories of the havoc he caused during the war?”
“Some of us didn’t have to hear secondhand tales, hunter,” Shay said, glancing over at Geoffrey. “We were there.”
“Then you should know better,” Bron said. “Some opponents can’t be controlled or defeated. They can only be safely locked away. I can only imagine the widespread destruction Hades would unleash on the Realm if he had the chance.”
“If there were any other way to get back home, trust me, I’d take it,” James said.
“That was never in doubt, Hook,” Geoffrey said, before turning to the hunter. “Bron, the stories you grew up on were nothing more than Crown propaganda. Hades isn’t any worse than Oberon.”
“Or any better,” Shay added. “The Lord of the Underworld is no different than anyone else I’ve ever met, a creature looking out for his own self interests.”
“Which makes our job all the easier,” James said, leaning forward in his seat. “Since all Geoffrey will have to do is convince him that it’s in his best interest to help us.”
“And how am I supposed to do that?” Geoffrey asked with a sneer.
“Easy,” James said with a smile. “Play to his emotions, same as anyone. That shouldn’t be hard. All you have to do is ask yourself, what would an imprisoned king want most?”
“Redemption,” Geoffrey answered.
“Freedom,” Bron said next.
“Revenge,” Fenrir growled.
“Exactly,” James said, his smile growing wider by the second. “Fortunately, those happen to be the very things we can offer him.”
“Not exactly,” Shay said, stopping him cold. “You can’t offer him anything beyond talk. Even if you managed to find every relic that had ever been smuggled into this forsaken world you still wouldn’t have the power needed to unlock the Threshold. Only the Key can do that.”
Geoffrey’s gaze sharpened. “Yes, it does seem odd that you let the biggest prize in all three worlds slip from your fingers.”
James shrugged. “I came closer than anyone else.”
“And here I thought close wouldn’t be good enough for the Realm’s greatest thief,” Geoffrey said.
James didn’t flinch. “Well, let’s just say that my time here on Earth has taught me to live with disappointment.”
“And how exactly are you planning to break through the Threshold if you don’t have the Key?” Fenrir asked.
“The five of us together, we have the sharpest minds, the strongest wills, the most powerful magic this world has ever seen—we’ll come up with something. We’ll find a way.”
“That’s your plan?” the jinni said with a groan. “Somehow, I don’t believe you dragged us halfway around this world for we’ll find a way.”
“You’re right. I also brought you here for the magnificent wine.” He drained the last drops out of his glass. “I can’t get enough of the stuff.”
The jinni didn’t seem to share his amusement…or his love for a fine Napa cabernet.
“All right,” Bron said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “Let’s say you’re right, that through some strange stroke of luck we manage to find a way to free Hades. That’s still only half the curse.”
Fenrir let out a low groan. “As much as I hate to admit it, the hunter is right. We haven’t even spoken about Titania’s clause yet.”
Now, James laughed in earnest.
“You mean the bit where we all have to find someone to fall in love with us?” James let out a laugh. “I wouldn’t lose too much sleep over that one, boys. If there’s one thing I’ve noticed about the women of this world it’s that they fall in love at the slightest provocation.”
Geoffrey shook his head. “Her exact words were that our hearts needed to be thoroughly cleansed by the burning fires of love.”
“And what do you think that means?” James asked.
“I’m not sure,” Geoffrey admitted.
“Of course you’re not,” James said, stretching his arms out as he relaxed back in his seat. “No one is. Look at this world. They’re obsessed with the concept of love. They sing songs about it. Write stories. But ask any one of them to objectively define the emotion, and they falter. That’s because love is intangible. It’s whatever we say it is.”
“Such a convenient way of thinking,” Geoffrey said.
“It’s never steered me wrong before.”
“Is that right?” Geoffrey said. “You really think you can make someone fall in love with you?”
“Of course,” James answered. “Like I said, it’s the easiest thing in this world.”
Geoffrey’s brows arched skeptically. “Is that so.”
“You do
n’t believe me?” James said. “Fine. I’ll prove it. Go ahead, pick any woman, and I guarantee to have her swooning at my feet before the week is out.”
“Any woman?” A slow smile spread across Geoffrey’s face.
“Why not?” James said. “Whatever it takes to convince you that our situation isn’t as hopeless as you fear.”
“All right.” Without looking, Geoffrey pointed his finger toward the door of the restaurant. “I pick her.”
James turned his head to see the woman with the thick brown ponytail and the shapely rear standing at a table at the far end of the sidewalk. She turned to head back inside, and for a moment their gazes met. She quickly ducked her chin down, and hurried her step through the door.
“The waitress?” James asked.
“Mercedes,” Geoffrey said, drawing out the syllables of her name just like he had done.
James cleared the sudden block in his throat. “She’s your choice?”
“That’s not going to be a problem, is it?”
“Of course not.” James snatched the check-fold as he sprung up from his chair. “It’s just for a second I thought you might make this a challenge.”
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About the Author
Adrienne Bell lives on the far edge of the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband and kids. She spends her working days writing and reading, and most her downtime watching comic book themed television or scrolling through Disneyland fan websites. You can follow the minutia of her life or see what she’s working on next on most social media sites. Oh, and she thanks you for reading.
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Jinn: Exiles of the Realm Page 19
