Becoming Jinn

“I should probably go,” I say even though it’s the last thing I want to do. Going home, thinking about what I have to do at home, erases the joy of Lisa’s residual anima.

 

I’ve told Henry enough to satisfy him for now. Though he probably won’t get the chance to find out more. I have no idea if my mother can fix this, but if she can and does, I’m pretty sure that’ll mean I’ll lose another Carwyn because of being Jinn.

 

“Wait, not yet.” Henry gestures toward his sleeping sister. “Should I be worried about her? I know you said most genie lore is pure myth, but she’s not going to wake up without her vocal cords or something, is she?”

 

I cock my head. “I’m not following.”

 

“You know, like in the movies. One of those genie tricks. Like a girl gets her wish to be stick thin but the cost is puking her guts out every morning.”

 

I’d laugh but Henry’s too worried. “No, she’ll be fine.” To reassure him, I add, “I promise, no tricks with this one, even though a lot of the myths do seem to have a kernel of truth in them. Like my mom thinks the whole idea of wishes coming with strings attached is because our magic has its limits. A lazy or an untalented or even a mischievous Jinn might go the literal route. Way back when, people knew they had a wish granted. We didn’t have to make them forget like we do now. If they spilled the beans, the wish was reversed.”

 

Henry relaxes back into his chair. “So if someone’s wish wasn’t granted the way they wanted, it probably seemed like the wish came with a cost.”

 

I nod. “That’s not an issue anymore since wishees don’t remember the experience. The hardest part now is covering our tracks and making sure the wish is believable to them and to everyone else. Like with Zoe. She wanted to be tall, but if I left her bumping the ceiling, she’d—”

 

“Totally go viral.”

 

“Be dissected by your human doctors.”

 

“Military.”

 

This time, I do laugh. A little. “Either way, it’d raise suspicion.”

 

“Viral.” Henry slaps his leg. “Damn. Can you imagine if we could put this on the Internet? Make a documentary? Real-life paranormal? We’d be rich.”

 

My heart leaps to my throat. “You can’t. What I said about the Afrit wasn’t an exaggeration.” Though I kept the specifics vague, I had to tell Henry the consequences of him not keeping my secret. “If you hint to anyone, even your mom or dad—”

 

Henry grabs both of my hands and looks at me with such intensity, I break out in goose bumps.

 

“It was only a stupid joke, I swear, Azra. I swear on—”

 

“It’s okay.” I don’t want him swearing on anyone’s life again. “It’s only jail.” Granted, if my mom isn’t exaggerating, it’s a perverse, living nightmare kind of jail, but Henry doesn’t need to know that.

 

He squeezes his eyes shut as he shakes his head. “No, it’s not okay. You’re trusting me with all this. With … with your life.”

 

But only for today. A rush of sadness and guilt overwhelms me. Henry must mistake this for fear because he clenches my hands so hard, my bones feel as though they might break.

 

“And if they found out, you’d be taken away. From … all of us. For good.” He gently touches my silver bangle. “I’d never let that happen, Azra.”

 

Henry’s honesty is never more on display than in his light green eyes. One look, and I’m positive nothing has ever been more true.

 

“Thank you, Henry,” I say. “For today. It’s been a long time since … well, since I’ve had a day like today.”

 

A cloud comes over his eyes. “Did you tell her? Did you ever tell Jenny?”

 

It’s all I can do to shake my head no.

 

Our awkward silence is interrupted by Lisa, who barrels into me and hugs my legs. I’m momentarily panicked, thinking the cloaking enchantment didn’t work. But it did. To Lisa, I’m just the girl from across the street who gave her french fries.

 

The gratitude in Henry’s smile guts me. To him, I’m the girl from across the street, the best friend to the sister he lost, and the genie who helped the sister he clings to and puts before everything, including himself.

 

I should … I will … I am going to confess to my mother.

 

But not today.

 

 

 

 

 

18

 

Deeper. I should have dug deeper. That’s what my mother has to say in response to my (abridged) report on how I (more or less) successfully granted Zoe’s wish.

 

She paces the living room in front of our bookshelf as I fidget on the couch. “Did you feel her emotions? Like you did with Mrs. Pucher?”

 

“No, not with Zoe,” I admit. I then force myself to add, “But I did with Lisa. A little, I think.”

 

She freezes. “What?”

 

Words tumble out of my mouth. “It just happened, Mom, I swear. I didn’t plan it. I know it was wrong. One minute Lisa was stuttering and … have you heard her stutter?”

 

She places her hand on her chest and nods slowly. “Elyse mentioned it too. And that this past school year was particularly difficult for her. Though she had been making some strides since she started seeing a speech therapist.”

 

“Then it’s a good thing, right?” I pause to take a breath. “Wait until you hear her. Even Henry said—”

 

Her jaw drops. “Henry was there?”

 

Perfect opening. I should tell her. Now.

 

“Yes.” Her face is a beet with eyes. “I mean, not there there.”

 

I will tell her. Tomorrow.

 

“He ran to the store and asked if I’d watch her. Anyway, the point is, I’m pretty sure I did better with Lisa.” It’s only as I say this that I realize I did actually do much better with Lisa. I smile. “Guess third time’s the charm and all is true.”

 

Unlike this convoluted story.

 

I am going to confess. I just need to prepare Henry first.

 

“And don’t worry. I was able to do the ritual quickly, way before he got back.”

 

She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Well, I should hope you could do it quickly. Lisa’s only six. I’m sure it couldn’t have been difficult to get into her psyche.”

 

Ouch.

 

“You know you should have asked me first?”

 

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