The Blind Wish

by Amber Lough

  “The caliph was happy to see his son,” I said. I took a deep breath and let it out. “But he did tell him that I was their guest, and Kamal named me the jinni consul. When I came back and told Delia, she wasn’t pleased to find that the caliph isn’t willing to tell the world about Hashim.”

  “What’s that?” Zayele asked, finally speaking. She’d been looking at me strangely. Was that how I looked at people? Were my eyes that big?

  “The caliph won’t make a public statement revealing the full web of Hashim’s lies. He’s afraid he’ll lose support from the people.”

  Zayele snorted. “I’m not surprised.”

  “The caliph has always been worried about his public image,” Rahela explained, “but it’s not just the caliph’s judgment that would be questioned. People would question the loyalty of our tribe, since Hashim was originally from Zab. It would not be good for my people either.”

  “The war must end,” I said. “Unfortunately, Kamal believes we cannot force the truth upon the people. He wants to change their minds about jinn first, and he wants to start with his brother.”

  Atish crossed his arms and nodded at me. “Then I wish him the best of luck, because from what we know of Prince Ibrahim, he would rather walk around Baghdad in a dress than shake hands with a jinni.”

  “Atish, don’t,” Shirin warned.

  “No, he’s probably right,” I said. Then I said what had been stirring in my mind ever since I left the Command. “Delia wants me to speak with the Diwan.”

  “Who’s that?” Zayele asked.

  “That’s what we call our council of elders here. They need to know Kamal is the new vizier.”

  Rahela’s eyes widened. “The prince? But he’s so young! And what does this mean for you? If Kamal is vizier, and he’s trying to change the minds of the people, how do you fit in?” Rahela’s mind was quick.

  “I’m the jinni consul. But we can’t…Kamal and I may only meet when the Court of Honor is in session.”

  “I see,” Rahela said, frowning. “But you’re the consul, at least. I can’t imagine anyone doing a better job.”

  “Thank you.” I felt a blush spread across my cheeks. “But—but it means nothing if Ibrahim won’t allow there to be a jinni consul.”

  “Isn’t his father the caliph? And not him?” Shirin asked.

  “Yes, but you haven’t seen him. He’s terrifying. He’s as big as Rashid, but not as…wise. And he was so angry. He called me ‘that thing.’ ”

  “Bastard,” Atish hissed.

  “At least we have some good news,” Zayele said. She was bouncing on her heels.

  “What is it?” I asked, but my mind was stuck on what Ibrahim had called me.

  She was grinning. “I can transport now.”

  Atish turned to her. “Already?”

  “It’s true,” Shirin said, beaming. “But that’s not the best part. She transports as blue f lame.”

  “You mean— So that’s why,” he said. Then he went to Zayele and picked up her hands in his. He studied her face.

  It couldn’t be. My mind started ticking, like one of those clocks in the House of Wisdom, while I took in everything Shirin had said. The only jinn who could transport like that were magi.

  “She’s a magus?” I asked. Shirin nodded.

  “I’m a what?” Zayele asked.

  “A magus,” Shirin said. “Some jinn are stronger than others. They can wish things most of us can’t. They can do things most of us can’t, and there’s only a few left. Fewer, now that Faisal’s gone.”

  But if Zayele was a magus, why wasn’t I? Didn’t we share the same blood? Wouldn’t we have had the same potential?

  Atish pulled Zayele into a hug. Her eyes peeked over his shoulder and stopped on mine. “What does this mean?” she asked me.

  “It means…it means your wishes can do things ours cannot.”

  “Then I can fix him!” she said, jumping out of Atish’s arms.

  Fix whom?

  “No, Zayele,” Shirin said. “I don’t think it’s like that.”

  “Why not? I can go home, fix him, and be back before anyone notices I’ve left.” When no one responded, she paced in a circle. “I could go at night, so no one there sees me. He wouldn’t even have to know. I could do it while he’s sleeping. And then, when he wakes up…” She smiled brighter than I’d ever seen.

  “Wait a minute, Zayele,” Atish said. “There are rules. We can’t transport whenever we want.”

  “But I just did it with Shirin.”

  “I didn’t think you could actually do it,” Shirin cut in.

  Atish started to laugh.

  “What is it?” Zayele asked him.

  “This morning. I knew Rashid was up to something when he had us put up a sparring ring in the center of the city. They know what you are, Zayele. They already know, and they have plans.”

  “Who does? Who has plans?” she asked. And then I knew. I knew exactly what Atish was thinking, and even though we were just friends, something pricked my heart. All those days, years ago, when we’d played at being a Dyad, where he’d fight the humans and I’d protect him with my impenetrable shield. We stopped playing when I found out I wasn’t a magus, and it hadn’t mattered because no one else our age was either. But then my long-lost twin suddenly came into our lives, and she…she was the magus. She would be Atish’s other half. Rashid must have made that choice the moment they realized what she was.

  The only thing I didn’t know was when they had realized it. Was it when they first found out she wasn’t me? If so, had Faisal known before he died?

  Of course he knew. He must have recognized her power the moment she made her first invisibility wish. She learned quickly. Too quickly, for someone who’d been raised by humans.

  Then the thought came, unbidden and stinking of jealousy. Faisal had been in the tent when Hashim murdered my jinni mother and human father. He’d been unable to rescue both of us, barely managing to grab me before Hashim got to him. Then he gave me to his sister, Laira, to raise as her own. My twin had been left behind. What if Faisal had saved the wrong infant?

  He could have brought home a magus, but instead he’d taken the quieter, weaker sister. And if he’d had Zayele all along, she and Atish would have been paired up long ago. They’d be a Dyad. They’d be nearly invincible.

  I blinked them away, but the feelings wouldn’t leave. I was the ordinary one, the untalented sister.

  “Najwa?” Zayele asked. She had somehow made her way over to me without my noticing and was standing only a foot away. “Who has plans?”

  “Rashid. The Shaitan. And probably the entire Diwan too.” I caught Atish’s eyes, and he nodded. “Every magus is paired up with a Shaitan. It’s a good way to balance the power.”

  “But…I don’t…”

  “You won’t have a choice,” Shirin said softly. “A magus is too powerful to be left alone. Someone will train you. Although I don’t know who that’ll be. Faisal’s gone. Who’s left?” she asked, looking at me for an answer.

  I shrugged. “There are twenty-three left, but I only know the names of a few. Hamayoun and Naveen, but they’re the youngest and wouldn’t be teaching you. There’s Taja, who isn’t that much older than us; Soraya, who is too weak now; and…” The last was Melchior, the jinni whose memory I’d seen when I discovered a Memory Crystal in the Baghdad palace. He had been captured by the old caliph and made a slave, forced to grant wishes each day. Hashim had freed him in exchange for a wish, but Melchior left without granting it. Hashim only wanted to help his family, his starving tribe, but Melchior didn’t do it. After that, Hashim’s life had been all about revenge.

  “Melchior,” Atish said.

  “Yes,” I agreed. “He was the Master of the Eyes of Iblis Corps before Faisal.”

  “He lives in Iblis’s Palace,” Atish said, nodding. “His dyad is Aga. She comes to watch us train sometimes, but she doesn’t do much in the way of fighting now. I’ve only seen him once.”<
br />
  “Wait, wait,” Zayele said, stopping us with a wave of her hands in the air. “So there are these jinn called maguses.”

  “Magi,” I corrected.

  “Fine. Magi. And I’m supposedly one of them, and after I’m all trained in whatever they do, I’ll be paired up with a Shaitan?” Zayele’s face darkened. “Is it a marriage?”

  Atish’s face turned as red as a ruby. “It’s, um, more binding than that.”

  “What could be more binding than marriage?” Rahela asked.

  “A Dyad,” Shirin, Atish, and I all answered at once.

  THEY WERE STILL staring at me. Me, a jinni wizard. It was more ridiculous than the idea of being half-jinni.

  That morning, I’d been worried about my future. I didn’t know if they’d want me to follow in my sister’s footsteps. I had been afraid they’d ask me what my talents were and I’d have to tell them: I don’t have any talents. I’m only marginally good at weaving and I’m terrible when it comes to doing what’s expected of me. They say I’m impulsive, but I think everyone else just takes too long to make a decision.

  But it sounded like a magus wasn’t expected to be normal.

  “What happens to the magi when they’re in school?” I asked.

  Najwa blinked. “I don’t know. The last time a magus went through her training, she did it all at the palace. That was Taja. Before her was Mila.”

  “Mila was Rashid’s dyad,” Atish said. “She died in battle last year.”

  Dyads weren’t invincible, apparently. “Oh. Who is Taja’s dyad?”

  “Saam,” Atish answered. “They’re still in the Basra Tunnel.”

  Najwa’s composure fell for a second, but I don’t think anyone else noticed. They hadn’t been studying her face, thinking about how their own looked the same. “They were fighting Ibrahim,” she said.

  I crossed my arms. “If this means I’m going to disappear into the palace, then I don’t want to do it.”

  “They already know what you are.” Atish stepped closer. He leaned in, like he was going to tell me a secret, but spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. “They will be picking your partner soon.”

  “Who?” I asked, both afraid and excited.

  “Him, of course,” Najwa said, pointing at Atish. There was bitterness in her voice, and Atish must have heard it, because he reached out to her, shaking his head.

  “Najwa, I’m—”

  “It’s fine,” she said. “It’s not like we’re…and you and her…it makes sense. It’s better.”

  Atish shook his head. “I don’t know that it’ll be me. Rashid said there would be a competition. It could be any one of the Shaitan.”

  I was about to say something, but Shirin had jumped forward and wrapped her arms around both of us. “Of course you’ll be chosen, Atish. It would be foolish not to pair you up, and Rashid is one of the smart ones.”

  Atish turned back to me, and I lost myself in his eyes. He had tipped his chin down, and his irises were pointed straight at mine, into mine. For a moment, I forgot the others. It was the same look he’d given me when I was broken and scared and lost in the tunnel. After he had left in anger and returned anyway.

  I didn’t know what it would mean to have him as my dyad. “You better not let it end up being some other Shaitan,” I said, forcing a laugh. “Not after I’ve just started getting used to you.”

  “Come, then,” Najwa said. “I’ve got to go speak to the Diwan at the palace. If Melchior is there, he’ll want to see you.”

  But I couldn’t go. Not yet. “Wait. Najwa, you don’t know anyone from the village, but we have a cousin. I have to help him.” Quickly, I told her about Yashar and how much he needed me.

  She shook her head. “We can’t. We can’t transport without permission.”

  “But I just did.”

  “You’re lucky you didn’t get caught.” She sighed. “Zayele, we will find a way to help your cousin. But it has to be at the right time.”

  “They’ll never give me permission for that. No, I’m going now. Alone, if I have to.” I braced myself for another confrontation, but it didn’t come. Instead, Najwa sighed again and looked at Atish. Something passed between them—the sort of communication that comes after years of knowing someone—and I was jealous. I didn’t have that with anyone other than Yashar.

  “I would go with you, but I can’t. They’re expecting me,” Najwa said. She began to pace the area, then stopped abruptly. “Atish, you need to go with her.”

  He nodded. “I shouldn’t, but I can’t let her go alone.”

  “I’m going too.” This came from Shirin, and Najwa’s eyes widened in surprise. “She’s going there to heal this boy. She’ll need me.”

  “You don’t have to come,” I said to them both. “It’ll be easier if I go alone. They won’t be expecting any jinn.”

  “We’re not letting you out of our sight up there,” Atish said. “Shirin’s right. Let’s go.”

  This entire time, Rahela had been sitting in silence, winding her fingers into the threads of her loom. When I looked at her, she shook her head.

  “Don’t you want to go home?” I asked.

  She looked at her knuckles, at the dozens of colors wound around them. “It’s not my home anymore. When I left it with you, I never intended to return. There’s nothing there for me.”

  I went over to her and put my hands on top of hers. They were rough, but warm. “You want to stay in the Cavern? I thought you were afraid of jinn.”

  She looked up at me and laughed in a burst of surprise. “But, Zayele, you left me with one, remember?” I opened my mouth, then closed it, unable to say anything. “But I’m glad you did. I’m fine here. I’ve got a house all to myself, I’m not expected to do anything for anyone, and I’ve just started something on this,” she said, gesturing with her nose at the loom.

  That was when I looked, really looked, at what she was weaving. This was a far cry from what she’d littered the house with. The earlier rugs were like puddles of mud scattered across the stone floor, but this…this was a rainbow. Gasping, I let go of her hand to brush against the pattern she’d created.

  It began with the field of crystals that marked where the jinn went in death, their memories preserved in the upright shards scattered across the gravel. Then came the edges of the geode that made the Cavern floor and the start of the walls. She was working from the ground up but had only just begun.

  She wasn’t going home. She was making one of her own.

  “Oh, Rahela,” I whispered. Then I looked at Najwa. “Did you see this?”

  She nodded and grinned. “It’s better than anything my mother would have dreamed up.”

  Atish cleared his throat. “We should go. I have to be back in an hour.”

  I stepped away from the loom, from Rahela, and said, “I’ll tell Yashar all about this.”

  “Insha’Allah, he will see it one day,” she said.

  I took my friends’ hands and closed my eyes, picturing the cliff that overlooked the fast-flowing Zab River.

  “Shatamana.”

  I was going home.

  AS SOON AS they were gone, I left the house and headed to the Command, but Delia was already outside by the fountain. Delia was twice my age and did little to adorn herself. Her hair was pulled off her face with a single sapphire clip, and it fell in waves down her back. The only bit of jewelry she wore was a single band on her forefinger. The rest of her was straight, unafraid, and as alert as always. When she saw me approach, she stepped away from the fountain and nodded her head once.

  “Ready?” she asked. I stepped beside her and tried to match her steady, smooth gait.

  “As ready as I can be,” I said. I didn’t feel ready, but it didn’t matter.

  Delia knew everything about me, but the only thing I knew about her was that she had been close to Faisal. Maybe closer than I had. But our one similarity was not something I wanted to talk about.

  I needed to ask her about Zayele. If R
ashid knew something, certainly Delia had heard of it first. I waited until we’d crossed the canal and were heading down the empty street that brushed the edge of the city.

  “Delia,” I said, as quietly as I could manage, “there’s something about Zayele. I was hoping you could explain it.”

  She kept her eyes straight ahead, saying nothing for a moment. “I was wondering when you’d put the pieces together.” She sounded so much like Faisal it hurt. “She’s a magus. Faisal alerted those who needed to know before he was killed. They’ll begin her training soon, and then they will decide on a Shaitan for her.”

  “I’m surprised they haven’t already decided,” I said. We neared the lake wall and took the steps leading to the top. We would have to walk along the wall to reach the palace’s gate. As we made our way, I saw the colored balls from the Breaking. So some had not yet found their flames. For a brief moment, I longed for a ball so I could cast off my own, knowing that the one I’d set in the palace harem didn’t count.

  Delia slowed. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because Atish is the best choice. And Rashid has been pulling him aside for extra training the past two days.”

  “He is a good choice, but I would be surprised if he was the only one being tested for that role. Being chosen for a Dyad is the highest honor, and I’m sure there are others vying for the position.”

  She was right, of course. But who would compete against Atish?

  We walked the rest of the way in silence, and then took the steps down to the palace gate. It was made of twisted red iron, letting anyone passing by peer in to see Iblis’s doors. I had come this close a few times, years ago, but I’d never been inside. Delia rested her palm against a plate of black glass set into the wall, and the gate swung open on its own, propelled by a wish from when it had first been made.