The Blind Wish

by Amber Lough

  “What happened to me?” I asked. I watched as Rahela got up off her stool and went to wipe a folded cloth over Yashar’s forehead.

  “You tried to heal a human, and you are not a healer. You may think that since you’re a magus you have unlimited powers, but this is not the case. You depleted your wishpower, which always causes a jinni to lose consciousness. And then, while you were dreaming, you clawed at us like a crayfish. If I had been here when they carried you in, I would have turned you away.”

  This woman was not who I would have chosen if I’d had my choice of physicians. I swallowed and looked away from her. “Can Yashar…see?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “His eyes are still heavily scarred. But your wish did something to him. We’ve all been waiting for you to tell us what that was.”

  My worries for Yashar were like the cracking, spreading glaze on a pot. “Who has been waiting?” I asked.

  Rahela paused with her wiping. “Shirin and Atish, plus me.”

  “Now, tell me what it is you wished,” Razeena demanded.

  Faisal had asked me the same question once. That time, I had made a wish without knowing I had any of my own powers. Without knowing what a Fire Wish was. I had been forgiven because I’d been ignorant. But this time, I knew what I was doing. It just hadn’t turned out the way I’d planned. And, contrary to what Rahela said, I wasn’t thinking of myself—I was helping someone else. Wasn’t that the definition of thinking of others?

  “I wished for him to be able to see. That’s all.”

  Razeena’s irises filled with greenish flames that matched the snake mark wrapping around her wrist. “You were told it was not possible, but you did it anyway,” she hissed. “A magus should never try to do the work of a physician!”

  I blinked, waiting for her to say more, but she pressed her lips together till they were white. Then she bent over Yashar and placed a hand on his forehead. His whimpers faded, as did his shaking. She took the cloth from Rahela, who had given up on her own method of care.

  “If my wish didn’t work, then why is he like this?” I asked.

  Her reply was deep and hollow. “Your wish did work. We just don’t know what sort of ‘sight’ he has been given. Whatever it is, it is nightmarish. He cannot stand to be awake, and I have had to keep him unconscious. Otherwise, he screams.”

  “When his eyes are open, are they…?”

  “Your cousin here, Rahela, assured me they are exactly the same,” she finished. She had said “cousin” like someone says “mucus.” “Whatever you were feeling or thinking when you made this wish affected him. He cannot see like you or I, but he sees something. He will wake soon. I hope your presence will comfort him.”

  She turned and left us, trailing her long green skirt behind her. I watched it slip across the stone floor. The air in her wake felt warm, if that was possible.

  I pulled the rest of the blankets off me and went to kneel beside Yashar. “Yashar,” I whispered. “Please wake up. It’s me, Zayele.”

  “Zayele, he needs to rest,” Rahela warned.

  He stirred a little. His fists were clenched tight and his body was rigid, and I squeezed his shoulder, gently, hoping to reach him wherever his mind had gone.

  “Yashar, I’m sorry I did this to you, but you are in a safe place. Please, Yashar, wake up.”

  He reached out and gripped my sleeve and I startled in surprise. “Zayele?” he croaked.

  “Yes! It’s me,” I said. Tears sprang from my eyes, falling onto his cheek. “How do you feel?”

  “Zayele, I’m afraid.”

  “Shh. You’re safe here,” I said.

  “Where am I?”

  “You’re in a safe place. They will take care of you here. They’re all healers.”

  His breathing was too shallow and quick. “Jinni healers?”

  Rahela reached out and took one of his hands. “I’m here too. I didn’t want you to be alone.”

  “Yashar,” I said, using the voice our mother had used whenever she needed to catch our attention, “I am right here. You are safe. Breathe slowly.”

  He sucked in a deep breath and gasped, and I lifted him into my arms, squeezing him tightly. When his shaking settled a little, I pressed my face into the side of his and whispered, telling him again, “You’re safe.”

  “They’re everywhere. I can see them everywhere.”

  “What’s everywhere, Yashar? What can you see?”

  Sweat beaded on his pale brow. “Frightening things.”

  “What frightening things?” Rahela asked, alarmed.

  “I can see them all, Zayele. They come whenever a jinni comes close.”

  “Are you sure you aren’t seeing the jinn?”

  “Do they look different from you?”

  “No.”

  He shivered again. “They’re not jinn then. They’re…monsters.”

  “If there were monsters here, I’d be able to see them too,” I said, trying to bring some rationality to this conversation.

  “There is one swirling around you,” he said with a shudder. “It’s sharp and twisty.”

  “What do you see, Yashar?”

  “I don’t know,” he whispered. “Zayele, leave me alone!” He pushed me away, and I scrambled up from the bed. “That thing twisting around you is scaring me!”

  DELIA AND I left Iblis’s Palace for the Command and walked in silence along the lake wall. When we made our turn at the fountain, I saw Atish running toward us. His steps were long and quick, and he reached us before I had time to wonder what the problem was.

  “Najwa,” he huffed, “you have to come.”

  “What happened?” I asked. “Is Zayele hurt?”

  “No, she’s fine. But the wish…” He eyed Delia warily, but she stared him down.

  “You better tell me now, Shaitan, because I’ll hear about it anyway,” she snapped.

  “We found the boy right away,” he said in a rush of words. “Shirin tried to tell her the wish wouldn’t work, but she’s so stubborn. She wouldn’t listen.”

  “Just tell me what happened. Are they safe? Is she here?”

  “They’re both here. In the hospital.”

  I didn’t wait for more. I ran toward the hospital, stumbled once over the cobblestones, swerved around a pack of children, and pushed open the hospital’s double doors before any of the physicians could stop me.

  Atish was behind me the entire way, silent as a warhorse, and he stood beside me while we blinked and waited for our eyes to adjust to the darkness of the hospital.

  The main room was filled with beds lined up against the far wall like the teeth of a comb. Each bed was made of blue marble and a smoky quartz headboard that reached up to the ceiling. Wishlights hung suspended in clumps of three above each bed, illuminating them in weak, golden rays. Most of the beds were empty, but a few contained the ill or wounded. It was to these beds that we ran, scouring for any sign of Zayele.

  First, we saw Rahela. She was standing next to a bed in the center of the room. Then we saw Zayele, bent over the curled form of a boy. Her face was contorted, as if she was in great pain, and her lips moved slowly, like she was singing. All of this changed when she caught sight of us.

  She blinked away the pained expression and tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

  “Yashar is awake,” she said. Her voice was strained.

  “He is?” I started for her, but she shook her head in alarm, and I stopped, mid-stride. “Is he…is he any better?”

  “If seeing shadowy monsters is better, then yes,” she said bitterly. Then she whispered something to him that made him stir.

  “I’m sorry it didn’t work.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  “Yashar is safe here,” Rahela said, more for him to hear than for us.

  Yashar pushed himself up into a sitting position and faced me. He kept his face still, giving me a chance to study him. I tried not to look away from his scarred eyes, forcing myself to take all of him in, because if he was
Zayele’s cousin, then he was mine also.

  Yashar’s hands shook from where they lay on his thighs, and he curled them into fists. “There’s something dark swooping around you, around and around.”

  I fought off the urge to brush at the air. A line of goose bumps built up on the back of my neck.

  “Is it there now?” I said. My voice shook, betraying me. “What do you think you’re seeing, Yashar?”

  “Yashar, you don’t have to look at it,” Zayele said, sending me a glare. “Stop bothering him. He’s living in a nightmare.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  Atish came up beside Yashar, on the opposite side, and crossed his arms. “You’re a strong boy,” he said, “and you’ve got us here to keep you safe.”

  Yashar turned to face Atish and his hair cascaded over his eyes. “You’ve got something following you too,” he said to Atish. “All of you. I know you’re coming because I see these scary shadows coming with you.” Then he pulled his knees into his chest and tucked his nose between them. Atish looked at me sheepishly.

  “What is it?” Zayele whispered to Yashar.

  Yashar pointed behind me, and I turned. Razeena and Shirin were shuffling across the hospital’s expansive floor. As I watched them approach, I couldn’t help but wonder what sort of shadows they carried with them.

  Whatever they were, they frightened Yashar far more than mine had. Maybe he somehow knew Razeena was coming. The head physician wasn’t the most pleasant of jinn. Zayele straightened her back and lifted her chin, as if daring the oncoming women to move any closer.

  “The boy is awake?” Razeena asked when they reached me.

  I turned, bowed, and nodded my head. “He is, but he is still…troubled.”

  “He’s awake,” Zayele said. “But he is afraid of you. He isn’t used to jinn.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I am a healer, and if I’d wanted him dead, he would be so already,” Razeena snapped. “Shirin, since you carried him here, maybe he will tolerate you.”

  “Yes, of course,” Shirin said before stepping cautiously to the bed. “Yashar, it’s Shirin. I was at the river, remember? I’m Zayele’s friend, and a healer.” She paused. When he didn’t show any signs of distress, she took another step. “Would you like something to drink?”

  Yashar nodded. Shirin smiled at him and said to Razeena, “Would you get him some juice?”

  Razeena huffed. “Yes, I will get it. You stay here. Clearly, I disturb him.” Then, as quickly as she had come, she was gone.

  “I’m sorry you’re afraid of Razeena,” Shirin said to Yashar. “She acts that way because she is always tired. But she is a kind person. You will see.” I raised my brows. I’d never thought of Razeena as kind. Intelligent and hardworking, maybe, but not kind or gentle in the way Shirin was.

  Zayele shook her head. “He isn’t afraid of Razeena. It’s whatever I’ve just cursed him with. All these monstrous visions.”

  “Visions?” Shirin asked.

  We had to be cautious. If Razeena discovered that Yashar could see something dark swirling around jinn, she’d have half of the elders in here, prodding him, dissecting him. I cleared my throat, caught Zayele’s attention, and shook my head. Her eyes widened slightly, and she nodded.

  “He has no idea what jinn look like, so he’s imagining things,” Zayele said.

  “Oh, I see,” Shirin said. “So he’s not actually seeing something.”

  “He sees something,” I said, “but I don’t think it’s a good idea to let Razeena know yet. Besides, maybe Zayele can undo it like she did the Fire Wish.”

  “The Fire Wish?” asked Yashar. He lifted his head a little off his knees, so that his chin rested there. He was like a rabbit, ready to jump back into his hole if needed.

  The Fire Wish had left a scar in my lungs, and each time I breathed in too deeply, I could feel the air dragging over it. Whenever someone mentioned the Fire Wish, I breathed in just enough to sense the ragged bit in my lungs. I did this now, and then let the breath out, slowly. No one knew about this, because I didn’t want Zayele to feel even worse about what she had done to me.

  Zayele’s brows creased deeply. “When Rahela and I were on our way to Baghdad, on the canal boat, I saw a jinni—Najwa—and caught her. I made a wish so she’d take my place. I had to get back home to you, and I thought the wish would send me there.”

  “Why did you want to go home to me? I was doing fine.”

  “But you were blind!” Zayele fiddled with the edge of Yashar’s blanket. “Anyway, after the wish was made, Najwa took my place and went to Baghdad with Rahela, and I ended up here, in the Cavern. We each had to pretend to be the other.”

  “Zayele wasn’t very good at that,” Atish added, grinning.

  Yashar turned to Atish. “Why didn’t anyone know right away? Don’t jinn look different?”

  Shirin patted Yashar’s leg. “Humans and jinn look the same. The only thing different is how we dress and do our hair. And Najwa and Zayele…well, they’re twins. Sisters. Separated at birth.”

  “Not at birth,” I said, finally finding my voice. “At our parents’ death.”

  A wrinkle creased between Yashar’s eyes. “But our parents aren’t dead, Zayele.”

  “Yours are still alive,” Rahela said. “But Zayele and Najwa’s parents are not. Their mother was a jinni, and their father was Evindar, your father’s brother. You’re cousins.”

  Zayele squeezed his shoulder and half-smiled. “But you’ll always be my little brother.”

  “You’re my cousin too,” I said, but no one was listening to me. Everyone was watching Yashar.

  Finally, his quivering lips peeled back and he croaked, “Why did you do this to me, Zayele? It was better when I couldn’t see anything at all. It was better when you had left for Baghdad.”

  Zayele cupped his face in her hand and wiped a tear with her thumb. “I wanted to heal you. I didn’t want you to be blind anymore. I’ll fix this. I promise.”

  “No. You’ll only make it worse,” he said. He pushed her away and then slid down into the blanket and straightened his legs. He was like a vein of gold lying in silence within stone—thin, fragile, and almost glowing. “Shirin,” he said, “can you make me sleep again? I don’t want to see the monsters anymore.” The desperation caught in his voice, and Shirin looked up at me, confused. I nodded.

  “Of course,” she said. She laid a hand gently across his brow and whispered a wish.

  The tension in his body released like a song, and he sank further into the bed. The creases around his eyes smoothed out, and his mouth softened. A moment later, Shirin picked up her hand.

  One task was over. The next was equally stressful. “Zayele,” I said, and she snapped out of a lost gaze. “I have to take you to meet Melchior.”

  “Where?”

  “Iblis’s Palace. He is waiting.”

  THEY CALLED IT Iblis’s Palace, but no one named Iblis lived there now. It sprawled along the far end of the Lake of Fire, right up against the Cavern’s crystal wall. The fence surrounding it was made of iron strips a hand’s width apart, tiled with thousands upon thousands of multicolored scales.

  “Are those jewels?” I asked Najwa, gesturing at the fence ahead of us. We had taken the lake wall path and were closer to the palace now than I’d ever been before.

  She shook her head. “Just stones. But they’ve been wished upon.”

  Iblis’s Palace grew from behind the steel-and-tile fence like a rosebush. It scaled the Cavern wall, finding nooks and crevices in the gypsum shards. The palace was wide at the base, where its walls were made of dark marble and granite, but tapered into a series of five obsidian minarets, each taller and sharper than the one before, until the very last, which was built against the crystal wall. I craned my neck to see the top. A small curved window peeked out on the side.

  The palace reminded me of the base of a frozen waterfall, except it was darker, harder, and tall as a canyon cliff.

  “How hig
h are we going?” I asked.

  “Just the first floor.”

  “What’s up in the minarets?”

  Najwa shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’ve only been in the main hall, and I haven’t had permission to go anywhere else.” She stopped and gripped a railing, then took a set of steps leading down the lake wall to a gate of scrolling, intricate ironwork. As we walked, I dragged my fingertips along the fence. The stones were smooth and slippery as snakeskin.

  “What’s Melchior like?” I asked. She had been about to set her hand on a black square set into the fence beside the gate, and she hesitated.

  “He’s a little frightening. I didn’t know that when I was inside his memory,” she said. “In the Memory Crystal, he was angry, but he was also worried. Not for his own safety, but for his family. Mostly, though, he was very, very tired. The caliph was making him grant huge wishes daily. So I was imagining him to be feeble. Or weak. But he is not. He’s powerful.”

  I smiled. “Then he may be able to help Yashar.”

  —

  Najwa took me into the palace, where we waded through ankle-deep sweet pea petals, passed a curious apricot tree, and climbed a set of stairs leading up to the Diwan’s dais. There, a jinni stood and gestured for us to approach, smiling. His warmth was unsettling, making the hair rise on the back of my neck. To his left sat a jinni who looked like she’d seen too much sun in her youth and would cut off your tongue if you mentioned it. They had to be Melchior and Aga, the powerful Dyad couple. The third jinni, the one on his right, was about twenty, with short-cropped hair threaded with turquoise beads, straight brows, and a thin nose. Like the older warrior woman, she carried a Shaitan dagger at her belt. I had no idea who she was.

  Melchior slapped his hands against his knees. “Welcome, Najwa and Zayele. Now all we need to do is figure out which one of you is which.” Then he laughed. It was not the laugh of a happy soul.

  “Najwa said you wanted to see me,” I said.

  Melchior nodded. “Ah, so you’re Zayele, our half-human magus. I am Melchior, the one who trains the magi.”