My stomach churns, rejecting even the thought of food.
Part of me wants to rush down the stairs and ask for help granting Nate’s wish. But a bigger part stops me. Because I have to figure it out. Not my mother or Samara. Because it really is intimate, granting a human’s wish. My connection to Nate’s anima went so deep—it’s still so deep—that I’m consumed by the need to protect it, to protect him and his wish, to be the only one privy to what’s in his soul. I’ve finally done this to the best of my abilities, just like my mother’s been trying to teach me to do. Just as we Jinn were meant to do.
All well and good, but my suddenly gooey center doesn’t do squat for actually helping me grant the freakin’ wish. This will require logistics, planning … like I should have done with Ms. Wood. Mrs. Pucher, Zoe, Lisa, all those wishes were easier because they could be granted in the moment.
Cantamen clutched to my chest, I retreat to my mother’s room and stretch out on her bed. I lie on my stomach and pull one of her pillows toward me. A splash of red appears. Red leather. Underneath the pillow is my mother’s diary. An uncapped pen sticks out from in between pages near the end, pages that are still blank.
My mother said she used a spell to hide the writing on those seemingly empty pages of the cantamen. The diary must be masked by the same spell. As I leaf through the codex, I keep my eyes open for both a way to grant Nate’s wish and a spell to reveal the hidden ink. I find the spell first, thanks to a huge drawing of a pair of purple eyeglasses.
I touch the title next to the drawing: “Make the Seen Unseen.” The spell that follows has it all: rhyme, foreign words, magic gobbledygook. Now all I need is a talisman. This I do not have. But my mother does. And I know what it is.
When my mother appeared at Ms. Wood’s house, she was wearing her emerald signet ring. She doesn’t wear it often. I always thought it was because it was large and a bit showy, but I now suspect there’s another reason. The ring is her talisman. She needed it that day in order to use spells to fix my mess. Since Yasmin’s been wearing and using Raina’s ring, I’m pretty sure my mother’s talisman will work for me.
When I found out about the car accident, my priorities shifted. But as I near my mother’s jewelry box to search for her ring, my suspicions about my A pendant and what it means if they are true rise up again.
Stopping a few feet short of my mother’s dresser, I focus on the jewelry box and the emerald ring resting inside. The lid opens, and the ring lifts, levitates, and moves toward me. I extend my middle finger, letting the emerald slide down. It’s a perfect fit.
I walk to the dresser to return the ring to where my powers found it and dig the duplicate A pendant out of the bottom drawer. Either I’m wrong about all this, or everything that happened earlier distracted my mother from finding a new hiding place.
Holding the A in one hand, I step back until I’m in the exact same position I was in moments ago. Though I’m doing exactly what I did the first time, the jewelry box doesn’t open and the ring doesn’t float my way. Still focused, I drop the heavier A pendant to the floor. The emerald ring flies at me so fast I need to duck to avoid it colliding with my forehead.
Damn, I was right. I was right. The magic running through my Jinn blood doesn’t need a bangle to unleash it. When I turned sixteen, my mother must have replaced the A pendant that she spelled to block my magic with the lighter one I’m now wearing. Her smooth actions allowed me to continue believing the lie: that because of my scar I needed a bangle to release my powers. Now I’m sixteen. I’m allowed to use magic. Why not tell me the truth? What is she afraid of? What should I be afraid of?
The fact that Samara’s here stops me from confronting my mother. I kept Henry a secret from Laila because I didn’t want to put her in danger. Knowing what I now know about the Afrit, I wouldn’t be surprised if my mother has been doing the same thing with Sam. I’ve waited sixteen years to learn the truth, another day means nothing to me. But to Nate, whose deepest desire is to take care of Megan, another day must mean everything.
This is when it hits me that I should have done something to grant at least a portion of Nate’s wish in the moment. How could I allow him to leave the parking lot without somehow letting him know that he already has all he needs to take care of his sister?
Logistics, legalities, that’s what came into my mind when he said “take care of.” But those words encompass much more. So much more, my lungs seize and I fall onto the end of the bed. Nate lost his father tonight. His mother is hurt, bad. His deepest desire is to know that his sister will be okay.
And I have no idea what I’m doing.
When Jenny died, all I wanted to do was stop being Jinn. But tonight, all I want to do is be a model Jinn. I have to do this. I have to do this right.
I squeeze my eyes shut and try not to crumble under the massive weight on my chest.
My skin prickles and a purring fills my ears. Smooth, warm hands rest on my cheeks.
“Oh, Azra, honey, what is it?”
Hana. Red hair tied into a loose bun on top of her head, a white goopy mask covering her face, toothbrush clutched in her hand.
“What…?” I blink. Twice. “What are you doing here?”
Hana shoves her toothbrush in the pocket of her pajama pants. “You tell me. I expected to find you staked or something.”
“They stake vampires, not genies.”
“Could’ve fooled me with the way it felt like my heart was being impaled.”
We stare at each other. “The link,” we say at the same time.
I stand up. “You felt … felt, like, me?”
“Did you feel like you were having a heart attack?”
“Just about.”
“Then yes.”