Mark of the Djinn: A Young Adult Urban Fantasy Romance

by Shiulie Ghosh

  “I know.” He came over and took me gently by the shoulders. I looked at him in surprise. “And I know how much danger it puts you in. There is a risk that Al Uddin will succeed. That he will trap you and force you to grant him wishes for all eternity.”

  “That won’t happen. I won’t let it.”

  His hands slid down my bare arms, and my skin tingled. I was suddenly aware of how close he was standing. I wanted to move away from him but my stupid feet wouldn’t obey.

  “I know you won’t intend to let it happen. And I will do everything I can to protect you. I want you to know that.”

  He paused, his eyes searching my face, and my cheeks warmed with the intensity of his gaze. For some reason I was finding it hard to concentrate.

  “That’s good to know,” I murmured as his hands reached mine. His fingers stroked the sensitive spot over my pulse.

  “But sometimes things don’t work out according to plan,” he said softly. “If you become his servant, he would have you destroy Ashfahaan. I’m sorry, Samira.”

  Something clicked shut around my wrist. With a startled cry, I yanked my hand out of his and brought it up to my face.

  A slim silver band circled my forearm, engraved with strange runes. I couldn’t see where the clasp was. I tugged angrily at it, but it wouldn’t open and it was too tight to slide over my hand.

  “What the fuck is this?” I snarled. “Get it off me.”

  “Did I do it right, little thief? Distraction, I think you call it. Or is it misdirection?” He smiled wolfishly, all pretence at being nice suddenly gone. “Still, I know how much you like to get jewellery from men.”

  “What the hell is it? Why won’t it come off?”

  “You know, family history is a fascinating thing,” Dhav said conversationally as he paced around the library. “The story of my great, great grandfather, for instance, freeing the last of the djinn. It’s all there in the ledgers. I spent all night going through them to see if there was anything that could help us. And I came across the writings of his son, my great grandfather, who was worried Al Uddin would one day break free from the wish. So he created a failsafe.”

  “A failsafe?”

  “An amulet, which is dormant as long as the djinn is operating with free will. But as soon as he or she is forced to do the bidding of a master, it unleashes a spell which destroys them both.”

  I looked at the amulet in horror.

  “You put a bomb on my wrist?”

  “Relax, Samira. It will only activate if you are bound to the ring.”

  “You relax, you dick.”

  Enraged, I swept up a vase on a skein of air and hurled it at his head. He dodged nimbly, and the next second I found myself pinned against him with my hands held firmly behind my back.

  “I cannot take any chances,” he said. “I have to ensure the safety of my people.”

  I struggled against him.

  “But I told you I’d go with you. I’m helping you, you didn’t have to boobytrap me.”

  “But what if you can’t get away from him? What if you can’t steal your ring back? I’m sorry, Samira. This is the only way.”

  He released me and I immediately slammed a punch into his mouth.

  “If you ever, ever lay your hands on me again I will unleash a storm that’ll take your head off,” I screamed. “How’s that for free will?”

  He wiped a trickle of blood from his lip with the back of his hand.

  “I’m glad we understand each other. Shall we go?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Farouk drove us to the border of Ashfahaan in a gleaming custom-built truck. Dhav took the whole back seat for himself, and spent the journey on his phone giving instructions to the gaggle of advisors who would be running things until he got back.

  I sat up front, keen to get a better look at Ashfahaan.

  “I thought you were an air steward,” I commented as Farouk expertly handled the heavy vehicle.

  “I’m Prince Dhavani’s personal aide,” he said, navigating past an entire family balanced precariously on the back of the scooter. They waved as we overtook. “His steward, his valet, his groom, his chauffeur.”

  “So you do whatever he tells you?”

  “That’s right, miss,” he said cheerfully. “Otherwise I’ll be beheaded.” I glanced at him, startled, and he grinned. “Just a joke, miss.”

  “But it wouldn’t surprise me.” I glanced at Dhav, who was deep in conversation. “Your boss is kind of a dick.”

  “He doesn’t trust many people, miss. But when you get to know him, you’ll see a different side of him.”

  I heard the respect in his tone and frowned.

  “You like working with him.” It was a statement not a question.

  “He’s the best person I know,” Farouk replied simply.

  I glanced at Dhav again, and he treated me to a glare before turning away. Nope, I wasn’t seeing it.

  I settled back and stared out of the window, watching the fields and orchards gradually dropping away. The scenery became more empty and desert-like. The tarmac roads gave way to dirt tracks, and finally sand.

  Farouk stopped at one point to deflate the tyres on the truck. I asked him why.

  “So we can travel across the sand, miss. Less chance of getting stuck if they’re soft.”

  The air was hot and dry, and I created a little breeze for myself while Farouk was safely outside sorting out the tyres. Dhav was still talking, but he caught my eye and frowned when he saw what I was doing. I resisted the temptation to blow the phone out of his hand.

  Farouk opened the door to climb back in, and I hastily dropped the breeze.

  “How long?” I asked.

  “Just a few more minutes to the border, miss.”

  “What’s Al Uddin’s land called?”

  Farouk frowned.

  “I’m not sure, miss. It doesn’t appear on any maps, I know that much.”

  “How does a whole country not appear on any maps?”

  “It’s an anomaly,” said Dhav, finally shutting off his phone. “Everyone local knows it exists, but it’s always been ignored by the surrounding countries. Pakistan, Iran, Afghanistan – they’ve all just forgotten about it.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I scoffed. “Territory is one thing governments never forget about.”

  “I’m telling you the truth, Samira. Al Uddin’s country exists, but it is nameless and untouched. For the last hundred years, it has essentially been a no-man’s land.”

  “Why?”

  Dhav shrugged.

  “I am guessing it is another unintended side-effect of my ancestor’s wish. Nations thrive all around it, yet his country sits anonymously among them while he rots in his tower.”

  I shivered. It sounded like a bad fable.

  “The sentinel stones are ahead of us, your Highness.”

  Farouk slowed the truck and I peered through the windscreen. A row of standing stones stretched as far as the eye could see to the left and right.

  “Ashfahaan’s boundary,” said Dhav.

  “What are they?”

  “We call them the sentinels. Legend has it they are ancient soldiers who were transformed into stone to guard Ashfahaan from evil spirits.”

  “Is this your idea of border control?” I snorted. “What about real soldiers and maybe a checkpoint or something?”

  “We used to have that. But in all the years we had a border patrol here, no-one ever tried to come or go. It’s said the people who live in Al Uddin’s shadow may not even be human. What is it our people believe, Farouk?”

  “They believe it’s haunted, sir.”

  “What’s haunted?” I asked curiously.

  “The desert, miss. They say its cursed. They believe things live beyond the sentinel stones that will steal your soul and sap your spirit.”

  “I had a boyfriend like that once.”

  “Whether you believe it or not is irrelevant,” Dhav said shortly. “But I do know our phones w
on’t work in there. No signal. So if you have anyone you want to call, now’s the time to do it.”

  I shook my head stiffly. I had no-one to speak to. I didn’t even have a phone. It had vanished along with my rucksack in Pakistan. Farouk pulled the truck over.

  I clambered down from the passenger seat while the men went to the back of the vehicle. I shielded my eyes, looking through the stone monoliths to the desert beyond.

  It looked largely the same as the landscape on this side, I thought. There was no discernible difference between Ashfahaan and Al Uddin’s land. Golden sand dunes undulated into the distance, where they were stopped only by a ridge of mountain. And somewhere in those peaks was a madman in a tower.

  I imagined what Al Uddin might be like. An evil sorcerer trapped by magic, twisted by years of bitterness and a desire for revenge. Would he look old? Or would he look exactly the same as the day my grandmother cursed him with a wish?

  I jumped as Dhav spoke into my ear.

  “When you’ve finished day-dreaming, little thief, we are ready.”

  Farouk had rolled two smaller vehicles out of the back of the truck. Wide tyres hung at all four corners on shafts protruding from a stripped-down body, and the seats were low to the ground.

  There was barely any storage space; each passenger seat was piled high with bags and spare canisters of fuel. They looked like overgrown go-karts.

  “Dune buggies?” I said doubtfully. “Why not take a four-wheel drive?”

  “For one, they wouldn’t fit between the sentinels,” said Dhav. “And for another, these are much more fun. He grinned unexpectedly, and for a moment he looked young and rascally. It was such a change from his usual grim demeanor, it made me catch my breath.

  “I can’t drive one of these!” I protested.

  “It’s simple. There’s a brake and an accelerator. Even one of Raj’s bimbos could operate this.” The mention of Raj made the smile drop off his face. “You’ll get the hang of it,” he added curtly.

  I climbed into one of the buggies.

  “What about you, Farouk?”

  “I will stay here, miss, and wait for your return. I have all my creature comforts in the truck.”

  “You get Netflix in there too?”

  “Most certainly. What is life without Downton Abbey?”

  “Seven days, Farouk,” interrupted Dhav, as he swung into the other buggy.

  “What happens in seven days?” I asked.

  “If we’re not back, then we will have failed. And Farouk will notify the advisors to start the process to select a successor.”

  “Oh.”

  He fired up his buggy and roared off towards the standing stones, not waiting to see if I was following. Farouk had to show me how to switch the ignition on.

  “There you go, miss. Safe journey.”

  I gritted my teeth and pressed my foot on the accelerator. The buggy bounded forward like a dog off the leash, and I couldn’t help squealing.

  The stones loomed towards me and I slowed, not wanting to clip them as I squeezed through the gap.

  My breath caught.

  I was wrong. It wasn’t the same on this side. It wasn’t the same at all.

  I slowed to a halt, puzzled, not able to put my finger on it. Dhav had stopped to wait for me, but I ignored his impatient stare. The air was still and the dunes stretched ahead of me, but there was something… I closed my eyes.

  There. Right on the edge of my hearing, barely audible, I could sense a faint susurration. A whispering. As light as the wings of a moth beating in a quiet room. A thousand murmurs undulating just beyond my ability to detect what they were saying.

  “Samira!” Dhav’s voice cut through my concentration.

  “Shh,” I snapped, holding up a hand. The whispers were all around me. “Can’t you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  “The sound. There’s… there’s something, I’m not sure…” I held my breath, straining to hear, and a voice spoke directly into my ear.

  Welcome, sister.

  I jumped.

  “Shit.”

  “I don’t hear anything, Samira.”

  I looked across at Dhav and opened my mouth, then paused. There were no more murmurs or sighs. The voices had gone.

  I rubbed my palms on my combats, trying to gather myself.

  “Just my imagination, I think,” I said shakily. He cocked a brow.

  “Are you starting to believe the desert is haunted?”

  “I don’t believe in ghosts. In the end, it’s always some guy under a mask outsmarted by the meddling kids.”

  “I do not have time to unravel your cultural references, Samira. Are you ready to go? We have some hours before the sun sets. If we make good time today, we could reach the mountains by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  I cast one last glance at the line of sentinels, and the truck parked beyond it. It looked like sanctuary.

  Then I turned my face forward, and followed Dhav into the cursed desert.

  Chapter Twelve

  I had to admit, the buggies were fun. At first I was nervous about going too fast. I hadn’t even got my driving license, so it took me a while to get the hang of it. But as I grew more confident, I started to go faster, bouncing across the sand and flying over the dunes.

  Dhav kept his speed down at first, but when I finally overtook him he let his throttle out and we raced each other across the desert. At one point we were neck and neck.

  Exhilarated, I looked across and beamed at him. For once, his guard was down and he grinned right back at me.

  It was late afternoon when we stopped. We were both covered in dust, and I was aching from the constant jolting but I didn’t care. I’d found my new favourite mode of transport.

  “This is as good a spot as any,” said Dhav. “Let’s make camp.”

  He hauled out one of the bags and emptied its contents. It was a tent. I surreptitiously checked to see if there was another, but there wasn’t. It seemed we would be sharing.

  “I might sleep outside,” I said casually. “It’s so warm.”

  He flicked me an impatient glance.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. When the sun goes down, the temperature will drop quite significantly.”

  “Honestly, I’ll be fine.”

  “You will freeze.”

  “Well, a tent is hardly going to make much difference, is it?” I pointed out.

  He straightened up from hammering in a peg, his eyes glittering.

  “I disagree. It is imperative that we sleep together to share our body heat. Close physical contact will keep us both…” his voice dropped to a growl, “…satisfied.”

  The blood rushed to my cheeks.

  “If you think for one minute I’m sharing anything with you…” I started, before I saw his mouth quirk upwards. “Hang on. You’re just messing with me, aren’t you?”

  “I could not resist, little thief. The look on your face was priceless.” He hammered in another peg. “You need not worry. The tent has two separate compartments.”

  “Oh, um, good. Thanks.”

  Embarrassed I’d let him get to me, I took a swig of water, then unloaded the rest of the bags. One contained some firewood, and I made a little tepee of sticks, just as I’d been taught all those years ago in girl scout meetings.

  “Not bad,” said Dhav as he handed me a box of matches. “Shame you can’t light fires with that magic of yours.”

  “Gran could,” I said without thinking. I closed my mouth with a snap, and tried to cover the awkwardness by lighting a match. I was conscious of Dhav watching me.

  “Did you never question where the power came from?” he asked at last. I shrugged.

  “You don’t, when it’s something you’ve always been able to do. Like, you know, wiggling your ears.”

  “But at some point, you must have realised other people didn’t have powers.”

  “Oh, I realised that early on. My mother never let me
use my power so I started out thinking it was a bad thing. Like you obviously do.” I couldn’t resist the little dig and his eyes narrowed. “But then, after my parents died, I was brought up by my gran. She taught me it was a talent to be proud of.”

  I stared into the fire, remembering gran teaching me to float several objects at the same time: a feather, a tennis ball, a book. Each object needed different volumes of air to push them up and keep them off the ground. It required concentration, and I had complained endlessly, but gran was ruthless about making me practice.

  By the time I turned fifteen, I could hold ten objects of different masses in a slowly rotating circle above my head.

  “Did your mother have power too?”

  I nodded.

  “She could control water. But I only saw her use it once, when I burned my fingers on the kettle. She made it rain onto my hand.” I paused, the feel of the droplets soothing my skin still vivid in my memory. “Maybe she could have done more, but I don’t know. She hated being different.”

  Dhav handed me a bowl of couscous and roast lamb. It was delicious; cold but fragrant with spices.

  “People always want the opposite of what they have,” he commented after a couple of mouthfuls.

  “Even princes?” I teased.

  “Especially princes.” I wasn’t expecting an answer, but maybe he was tired. Or maybe the combination of firelight and good food made him open up. “Ruling is difficult. Making important decisions, ones that affect hundreds of lives… it is a responsibility I didn’t expect to have so soon.”

  “You do seem very young to be a ruler.”

  He cocked a brow.

  “Are you saying I’m not regal enough?”

  “I’m saying, rather you than me. I’ve never liked responsibilities.”

  “Is that why you’re a thief?”

  The question was like a slap. A reminder that no matter how friendly he seemed to be, he wasn’t on my side.

  “Not everyone has your advantages, your Highness. Some of us have bills to pay.”

  “That’s a lie. You don’t have any bills, or indeed debts of any kind.”

  His mild response had me stumbling to my feet.

  “You’ve been checking up on me? How dare you!”