She had been traveling with the jinn through the desert for a week now, and she noticed the way he commanded the compass to lead them to shelter and quarry.
“It provides me with direction. When I am looking for something, it helps me locate it.” Qadir looked at the compass with a fond smile on his face.
Layla tilted it left and right, but the red arrow always swished back to her. Temperamental, her father had called it. But he had not understood its magic when he gave it to her, just as he hadn’t anticipated that Qadir, its true owner, would return for it.
And that, in doing so, he would save her life.
Qadir moved closer to their dying fire. He waved his hand over the faintly burning embers, and they flared back to life. Other than the fire, there was little else in the camp save for their weather-beaten tent and Qadir’s bag of infinite space.
The jinn rolled his shoulders. “The compass is mine. It insisted I accompany you, and so it is with you I shall stay until it points me in some other direction.”
“Why would it do such a thing?”
He looked at her for a long moment. “I was lost in your human desert and could not return home. That is why, when I tracked the compass to you, it saw fit to guide me down a different path.” His dark eyes bored into her. “Your path.”
Layla swallowed a lump in her throat. “Why can’t you return home?”
He shook his head. “Because I am no longer welcome there. But it does not matter; the compass has never led me astray.” He said the words with a bold certainty, but his eyes…
Even awash in firelight, there were haunted shadows in them.
Loulie passed through a network of alleys before she saw the jinn again. She was guiding the man into an abandoned building of worship, a humble clay structure with latticed windows and faded crescent and star patterns running up the walls. The large metal doors leading into the building were open, barely revealing a chamber draped in unnatural darkness.
“What is your plan?” Qadir’s voice was a whisper.
“I’m going to talk to her. But just in case…” Loulie reached into the bag for her weapon of choice: a curved dagger with a hilt of black obsidian. A qaf—the first letter in Qadir’s name—was painted in gold on the backside. It was the only mark of his ownership.
“What do you hope to gain from threatening a jinn?”
“A man’s life, mayhap.”
The knife was a final resort. She avoided violence when possible, and the last thing she needed was for the jinn to realize the blade was a relic: a tool enchanted with jinn magic. She knew from experience that flashing relics in front of jinn was foolish. Asking-to-die foolish.
She entered the building. The spacious room inside was dark and empty, the worship alcoves carved into the walls covered in dust and cobwebs. The ceiling, despite depicting sunny skies, was gloomy and gray. What little light came through the windows was muted and dusty. It was as if the room had been sucked dry of its color.
The jinn stood at its center, arms crossed. Loulie stared at her. At her hair, which was a river of living darkness that cascaded down her shoulders and faded to smoke at her back. The human man stood beside her with the strange smile still plastered to his face.
“Human girl,” the jinn said flatly. “Leave. I have no business with you.” Her gaze landed on Loulie’s hands. Belatedly, Loulie realized the jinn could see her rings. She clasped her hands behind her back, but too late. “You dare approach me with those rings?” the jinn hissed.
Loulie suppressed a groan. The rings were a common protection against jinn possession. Naturally, the iron also invoked their wrath. Though she was skeptical of their efficiency, Qadir insisted she wear them. Superstitions that do not kill you may save you, he often chided.
“The rings are for avoiding unfortunate misunderstandings like this one,” Loulie said carefully. “And I only came to warn you against harming a human on city grounds.”
Her eyes flitted to the shadows on the walls, which stretched toward her like spilled ink. She fought a shudder as the jinn’s soft voice filled the quiet space. “Do you know how many of my people this man has killed?” She prodded his chest with a finger. “He is mine to do with as I please.”
The jinn stepped back and flicked her wrist. The darkness on the walls grew limbs and pushed Loulie unceremoniously out the doors and into the light. Loulie blinked. She glanced behind her at the receding darkness.
She hesitated for one heartbeat. Two. Three.
“Loulie.” Qadir dug his claws into her shoulder in warning. She ignored him and chased the shadows back inside. The doors slammed shut, trapping her in darkness. She heard movement behind her but, when she turned, saw nothing.
“I have never seen a human so willing to die.” The jinn’s voice came from everywhere and nowhere.
Loulie readied her blade. Steadied her shaking hands. “The man is not a hunter.”
No response. She clutched the dagger tighter, waiting for something to strike at her. But the moment never came. Instead, she began to feel a subtle burning in her lungs.
Smoke.
Loulie stabbed desperately at the air in front of her, behind her. There was no resistance. Pressure swelled in her lungs until she couldn’t breathe. Until she was on her knees, gasping for air. The blade slid through her fingers and clattered to the ground. If it made a sound, Loulie couldn’t hear it. There was nothing but that pressure, building, building, building—
“Struggle all you like, foolish girl. You cannot strike down shadows.”
Loulie was vaguely aware of Qadir crawling off her shoulder. Then the world fell away, and only pain remained. Loulie’s bones cracked. Her ears popped. Her vision clouded, and in the agonizing haze she saw snippets of her own blood-drenched memories.
Pools of crimson on the desert sand. Corpses. Men in black wielding swords.
Her mother and father, dead. Her tribe, destroyed.
“Ah…” The jinn’s voice echoed through the barren room.
The pain eased until Loulie was aware of every burning inch of her body. Her head felt as if it were full of cotton as she looked up and saw ruby-red eyes staring at her from the dark. “You are a victim of the men in black?” The darkness rippled, and Loulie had the impression the jinn was reaching for her. Her assailant’s voice softened with hesitation. “You—”
The word pitched into a shriek as sunlight burst through the room. The shadow writhed and screamed until it was nothing but darkness bleeding into the tile cracks. Slowly, Loulie turned toward the doors, where a man stood haloed in sunlight.
Dark spots danced behind her eyelids as the world slowly refilled with color.
She managed one blessed intake of air before collapsing.
4
MAZEN
Mazen had no idea how long he’d been transfixed by this lovely creature, but he found he did not care. He’d already decided he wanted nothing more than to bask in her glory for the rest of his days. No desire but to taste her red lips.
But—
To run his hands over the smooth skin of her hips, her stomach…
But—
To push his hands through her hair, press his lips to her neck…
But—
His inner voice was as persistent as an alarm. It made it impossible to focus on the goddess. And there was another disturbance too, something that kept distracting her from him. Mazen was considering investigating the darkening room, when the goddess looked at him and said, “He is mine to do with as I please,” and he again stopped thinking.
She reached out and trailed a finger down his cheek. A helpless shudder racked his body at her touch. “Oh, sweet human.” Her voice was honeyed as nectar. “Sweet, conniving human—how many of us have you killed?”
The goddess moved closer until their bodies were flush. Mazen’s heart lurched as he felt the warm press of her skin against his own. Somewhere in the depths of his mind, he screamed.