Hey there, lovely readers,
This year is clearing its throat, tapping its watch, and pretending it doesn’t mind being shown the door. I still have a couple of unfinished promises on my to-do list, and at least one resolution is hiding behind the couch. Yet, somehow, this feels like the right moment for a story to begin—not with a bang but with that silent pause where something ordinary is about to lean sideways and become irresistible.
What follows is a tale where magic has the decency to act like it belongs in this universe, and, as the old year packs its bags, this story looks forward, not backward. So settle in, make yourself cozy in your favorite reading spot, bring your suspension of disbelief, and consider this a friendly invitation to take a little time out from normality!
ALLIE & THE DJINN
Quareem raised his hands, the
walls of his tiny prison cell expanding with the movement, and concentrated on
chanting every syllable with flawless pronunciation. After all, his goal wasn’t
to end up as a sandworm in some wasteland, was it? After completing the spellbreaker,
he waited.
No
sound of a heartbeat, because the sorcery that placed him here had left him
suspended outside of time and space.
I
do exist, a quiet voice inside his head insisted, although, as far as the rest
of the universe knew, his life had stopped the second the Hunters had trapped
him and slapped their null cuffs around his wrists.
He
counted: one, two, three. The unmitigated sensory deprivation would have driven
him mad if not for the sanity of numbers—and he gasped as a bolt of lightning
sliced through him. A sudden violent shivering had his teeth clacking against
each other like knucklebones, and his heart slammed against his rib cage,
beating an erratic rhythm—then a sideways shift and a glistening iridescence
lit up his cell.
The
next minute, he was… elsewhere.
He
flinched as thunderous growls and blaring horns blasted his eardrums and
squinted to limit the sharp sunlight piercing his eyeballs, before gradually
opening his eyes wider and wider as he tried to make sense of the bewildering
scene in front of him.
Metal
boxes on wheels in various sizes and colors streamed by inches from where he
stood, emitting a variety of honks, toots, and snorts. Men and women sat inside
the raucous machines, their gazes fixed on the vehicle in front. People wearing
outlandish outfits hurried along the sidewalk.
He
drew in a long, slow breath, coughing as acrid, fusty fumes entered his lungs.
This wasn’t the pure, clean air of his desert home. So what? There was always a
price to pay, and he didn’t care; he’d gained his freedom! He ran fingers over
his face, through his hair, and patted his smooth cheeks. He stretched, and
unused muscles and tendons expanded and released. His body was solid, no doubt
about that, and somehow light, his bloodstream fizzing with bubbles. Water
leaked down his smooth, golden-brown cheeks. A sensation he couldn’t identify
coursed through him.
A
flash of insight revealed it wasn’t the bewildering sights that blinded his
vision, nor the cacophonous sounds invading his brain through his ears, nor the
folk rushing along the busy street; it was the wild mixture of their emotions
that overwhelmed him. Little did they know that their fears, anxieties, hopes,
and loves all seeped out through their skin into the atmosphere. Such a porous
membrane to contain such a wealth of power, and for a djinn with his
abilities—when they were at full strength, that is—so easy to access.
He
grinned. He had succeeded. Of course, he, the great Al Quareem, once
acknowledged to be among the most powerful djinns to grace his society, most
certainly wouldn’t cease to exist because he garbled his own spell—a spell that
had taken eons to remember, hidden from his own mind by the Hunters’ hex. Granted
it had been difficult, until at last he had remembered and escaped. He wanted
to laugh and dance, but while he had liberated himself from their dungeon, his
jailers would have known the instant he disappeared. His new, unfettered state
would surely provide multiple opportunities, and he would rather die than allow
them to incarcerate him again.
The
beat of a drum and the tinkling of small metal cymbals accompanied by a
rhythmic chant caught his attention. The words were in an ancient language he
once knew and he sought the source.
Intrigued,
he turned and was distracted by the faintest whiff of something else. Something
different. Alien. He spun around, searching, sniffing. Yes, there. He glimpsed
the shimmer of a red cloak, sliding past on the other side of the veil that
separated the Hunters’ world from this one. Fear, a dark wall, rose inside him.
How could they be onto him so quickly? He froze, his limbs refusing to respond,
and his heartbeat accelerated, ricocheting around his chest, thundering through
his body.
A
man clutching a bulky leather case to his chest banged his arm as he hurried
by, breaking his trance. Quareem lifted a finger, pointed, and let it drop
before the pain began. He sighed. No more blasting of defenseless humans—one of
a hundred reasons the Hunters had incarcerated him.
He
scanned the crowd, primed to move, to run, the urge to hide overwhelming him.
He needed someone vulnerable. Ah! There. He cringed. His master, Shaitan curse
him forever, would have beaten him senseless for considering a dirty beggar—and
a female at that. This would be one of the lowest steps he had ever taken. As a
desperate fugitive, he would have to accept what the universe offered.
***
I hope you enjoyed the beginning of this story and come back next week for Chapter 1. If you don't want to wait to find out what happens next, Ally & The Djinn is available for free from my Shopify store:
Stay well and safe.
Warmest wishes,
Teagan.
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