Becoming Jinn

“Humans,” I say, piecing it together. “That’s why Jinn don’t form attachments to humans.”

 

 

My mother exhales slowly. “Underneath it all, the Afrit do want us to serve the human world. We need to if we want to keep our powers. But they’ll go after humans if they have to. It’s rare. Most Jinn don’t let it get that far. But the Afrit have done it, if only to show that they can and will.”

 

Henry. I pick up my hot chocolate, hoping whatever warmth is left will stop me from trembling, but I can’t stomach a sip. “What … what do they do?”

 

“They ruin their lives. Even for the Afrit, mind control is tricky. Whether it’s inserting thoughts or erasing memories, it’s risky. Dangerous. The Afrit’s goal is to wipe the human’s memory of the Jinn they know, leaving the Jinn without their trusted friend, lover, what have you. But in far too many cases, they’ve left humans as amnesiacs or damaged their brains so much that the person winds up in a mental institution. They’ve even killed a few humans in the most dire cases.”

 

My mug falls from my hand. My mother’s powers catch it before it drops to the floor where it would have shattered into a million pieces, the same way my heart seems to be doing.

 

“Are you sure?” I say. “I mean, have you actually seen it?”

 

“A human being killed? No.” My mother bites her lip. Though she forces back the tears I can just see forming, she can’t stop her voice from trembling. “But the other part … the damage … I’m sure it’s true because I’ve done it.”

 

My pulse thumps in my ears. “I thought you couldn’t do mind control?”

 

She stands abruptly, moves to the back door, and stares out the window. “I can’t. Not like you did. Not unassisted. I’ve never known a Jinn who could do what you can do. But with a spell, like the one I used on Ms. Wood, I can come pretty close. It’s probably the hardest spell to pull off. Most Jinn can’t.”

 

“But of course you can, being the model Jinn and all.”

 

My mother turns to me, sadness darkening her eyes. “It’s not something to be proud of.” She beckons me over. “Come here. I need you to see this.”

 

Dread makes me hesitate before pushing back my chair.

 

She steps to the side and taps the glass with the tip of her fingernail. “That’s how I know the dangers of mind control are real.”

 

Crazy old Mrs. Seyfreth from next door, wearing her usual fur coat, is staring over the fence into our backyard.

 

She’s farther down, no longer blocked by the lilac bush I moved. She must have found something else to stand on. I say tentatively, “Why does she do that?”

 

My mother speaks slowly. “She can’t help it. It’s not her fault. It’s … it’s mine.”

 

Mrs. Seyfreth’s vacant eyes float in our direction.

 

“Your fault?” I fall back against the counter. “But how?” I know the answer. She just told me the answer. I don’t want to hear it. But I have to hear it.

 

My mother pulls the shade over the window and returns to her chair.

 

“But why didn’t you tell me? I’m sure it was a mistake.”

 

“Mistake after mistake after mistake.” Her eyes fixate on her lap. “I was careless, and she saw something she shouldn’t have. It was all so horrible, but I was desperate. And arrogant. I thought I could fix it. I’d never used a spell to make someone forget something so huge, but I thought I could do it.”

 

This is why she didn’t want to try the spell on Henry. Thank Janna she didn’t try the spell on Henry. “So … so you’re the reason she’s … the way she is?”

 

She raises her eyes to meet mine. “Yes, and no. She’d already been showing signs. Her senility or whatever poor thing she’s suffering from was already there. What I did just accelerated it. The worst part is, I could tell. When I was doing the spell, I could tell I’d erased her memory, but I went a little further, just to be sure.”

 

I place my hand on hers. “You were protecting yourself. And me. I’m sorry about Mrs. Seyfreth, but if the alternative was the Afrit taking you—”

 

“Don’t say that, Azra. We can’t use our powers to hurt people, no matter the cost.”

 

Though she says this, I can tell from the way she’s looking at me, she’d do whatever she had to in order to protect me. “Why isn’t all this in the cantamen?”

 

“It is and it isn’t.”

 

“The blank pages,” I say, remembering the section I found in the middle that was completely empty.

 

“Hidden by a spell. The spell’s in the cantamen. I may as well reverse it now so you can learn the whole sordid history of how this came to be our Jinn world. I’m sorry. I know I should have told you. I was just trying to protect you. I wanted you to be able to be a Jinn without all this—”

 

“Hatred?”

 

“Fear, was what I was going to say.” My mother forces a smile. “You know, if you didn’t look so much like me, sometimes I’d swear you were Samara’s daughter.”

 

“But I don’t understand. Why do we let them get away with it? Why don’t we—”

 

“Fight? You and Sam really are peas in a pod.” My mother waves her hand. “Look around, who’s here to fight?”

 

“That’s why the male Jinn have to live with them?”

 

“And your grandmothers and everyone else who’s not a practicing Jinn, a retired mother raising a daughter, or the daughter being raised. Keeping our community separate, preventing us from living in clusters, ensuring our numbers here remain on the low side, it’s all a way of preventing an uprising.”

 

“But we’re here. Us mothers and daughters. We have powers. We could take them on.”

 

“No. The Afrit have powers beyond ours. And Janna is so well-shielded now that we can’t get in without them apporting us in. The same way every Jinn there can’t get out. We wouldn’t stand a chance.”

 

“But some want to try, like Samara?” The harsh words exchanged between my mother and Samara on the night of my birthday about taking risks now make sense.

 

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