Circle of Jinn (29 page)

“Oh, do you require sweetener, Azra?” Daher asks. “I think I'm fresh out. Shame, conjuring foodstuffs has never been my forte.”

“It's fine.” I make myself swallow another mouthful, and my stomach heaves in response.

“I do wish there was something we could do…” There's a teasing tone to his voice.

It's like he's … he's …
trying
to get me to do magic without my bangle. But why? Is this the Afrit
coming for me
?

“Tsk, tsk.” Daher wags his finger at me. “I thought we had an understanding, Azra. You're going to make me do something I do not want to have to do.”

Henry bolts upright. “Listen, Daher, or whatever your name is. We're not here to play games. Either you tell us who you are right now or we're leaving.” Henry pulls my elbow, and I have no choice but to lift myself up and stand beside him.

Daher raises both eyebrows. “I'm impressed, boy. Humans rarely surprise me anymore.” He tents his hands again, tapping his index fingers against each other. “I, however, am also full of surprises.”

Before I can take my next breath, a thick, three-stranded rope coils itself around Henry from foot to shoulder blade.

“Oh, and please, call me Farouk.”

I bite my tongue to prevent the cry of “Henry!” that was about to spring from my lips. Every molecule inside my body is fighting to use magic, to unwind Henry, who stands like a giant pig in a blanket. But for some reason winning this battle of wills with Daher—
Farouk
—seems too important.

I grit my teeth and begin prying open the clump of a knot at Henry's left shoulder. Instantly, I break a fingernail.

“Stubborn,” Farouk says. “Just like your father.”

I try not to flinch.

“Perhaps this will give you some encouragement,” he says.

And then, the length of extra rope beyond Henry's feet begins to smolder. Smoke rises, sparks flare, and the fibers ignite. Flames shoot out, snaking their way up the rope and toward Henry's flip-flop-exposed toes.

“Azra…” Henry hops away from the flames, but the puff of air only fuels the fire. “Azra, a little help, please.”

Steeling my nerves, I reach my hand through the twisted rope to reclaim my bangle from Henry's clenched fist. Farouk gets to it first, nabbing it with his powers.

He waves my bangle above his head and taunts me. “Looking for this?”

“Azra!” Henry pushes himself into me.

I look back and forth between Farouk and the fire. Finally, I stomp my foot and cry, “Fine!”

I conjure a wave of water that douses the flames. I concentrate on the rope, and it unwinds, smacking me in the arms and legs as it whips itself free. I gather the wet, smoky twine and send it soaring at Farouk, smiling as it punches him in the stomach on the way down.

A dripping wet Henry turns to me. His mind cries out:
Was that entirely necessary? But … thank you.

The grimace on Farouk's face as he rubs his torso morphs into an amused smile. “There, was that so hard?”

“Was that—?” Seething with anger, I fly toward Farouk, knocking into the coffee table and sending ice and coffee and brandy and glass scattering. “Were you really going to let him burn to prove a point?”

“Were you?” Farouk says. “I daresay I was unsure for a moment there.”

“If you knew I could do magic without the bangle, you could have just said so.”

“But what fun would that have been?”

“Fun?”

“Sure, why not? I think I deserve some, considering how long I've been waiting for this day. Your mother has proven to be quite the formidable opponent.”

I draw in a sharp breath. “My mother?”

“Determined she is.” Farouk smirks. “In fact, if it weren't for my little trick with the note card, Janna knows if you'd have ever discovered your abilities.”

“That was you?” I step back, and my foot lands on an ice cube. It skitters across the floor toward the hearth. “You changed the number on Anne Wood's candidate card? You made me rush into granting her wish? You're the reason I was on probation?”

“Hmm … I'll concede the first two, but the last, that was all you, my dear.”

“I could have hurt her.” My jaw aches from how hard I'm clenching it. “
I
could have gotten hurt.”

Farouk sighs. “Yes, your father was not pleased with me.”

“My father? You know my father?”

“Most certainly, my dear. Who do you think was behind the notion of wanting you to discover your abilities?”

My knees wobble, and I fall back toward the coffee table. Henry grabs my arm before I jam a shard of glass in my behind.

“Her father wouldn't have risked her getting hurt,” Henry says.

Farouk drifts toward the hutch. “And how would you know that, my boy?”

Henry tightens his grip and draws me closer. “I just know.”

With a clink clink, Farouk drops two ice cubes into a glass. “Well, you are correct. He would have preferred something more subtle, but alas, I have always liked a bit of drama.” He drowns the ice cubes with an amber liquid. “It wasn't yet urgent that you discover, Azra. Unlike now. All we wanted was to prompt you to go to your mother and present evidence she could not deny. But you like to keep secrets, don't you?”

The way Farouk glances at Henry ignites panic in my soul.
Jenny
. He knows. I hope he's still reading my mind. I stare at him, pleading that he do so. Because I don't want him to be the one to tell Henry about Jenny. Not here. Not like this.

Farouk tilts his head to the side and nods at me. He then continues, “It appears you have more Afrit in you than you like to believe, Azra. You crave control every bit as much as we do.”

My heart pounds. He's not going to say anything. He's doing me a favor. But why?

With Henry still latched onto me, I sit back down on the hard couch. “You wanted me to find you. Well, now I have. Are you going to tell me why?”

Farouk cradles his glass in his hand. The ice rattles as he returns to the armchair. “I assume since you are here, you have found what Xavier left behind? The article describing the weakness in the shield? Through which one may enter Janna without the need to contort oneself into a wretched creature?”

He means a dog or some other animal, not an Afrit. Though his words describe both.

I simply nod, trying not to mentally volunteer any additional information.

Farouk bends to retrieve my bangle, which fell to the floor when the rope pummeled him in the stomach, and his dark hair covers his eye like a pirate's patch. He flicks his hair to the side as he sets the bracelet on the table. “You and Zakaria have done the spell too. Shall I also assume you know what it means?”

Blank, blank, blank.
My mind must be
blank, blank, blank.

“Come now, Azra, don't you trust me?”

“Why should she?” Henry says. “You're an Afrit.”

“So is she. Part anyway.”

“It's not the same,” Henry says.

“Thankfully for us all.” Farouk sets his glass on the flat wooden arm of his chair. “Tell me, have I hurt you? Either of you?”

Henry tugs at his wet shirt.

Farouk points at me. “That was her, not me.”

A laugh bubbles up and out, surprising even me. Henry's fingernails dig into my forearm in response.

With a smug smile, Farouk says, “Proof, then? That I'm on your father's side and as such am most definitely on yours?”

He doesn't wait for a response. The armchair creaks as he pushes himself out of it. He floats over to the hutch and plucks a frame off the wall beside it. Before he sets it down on the coffee table in front of us, he sweeps the broken glass into a pile and wipes up the spilled liquid with a freshly conjured towel.

“I do hope this is enough to convince you of my intentions,” he says.

Without touching the frame, I hunch over the table to look.

Dearest A. N.,

Sparing you this fate has been my life's goal. I am sorry I have failed. However, you will not. I have made sure of that. I have always known we would reunite. I am honored that it will be by your hand. Trust in me. Trust in yourself. And this will be for now, but not forever.

Love always,

X. A.

“Azra,” Henry whispers. “My fingers.”

I snap out of my trance. Henry's fingers are blue from the way I'm squeezing his hand.

“S-s-sorry,” I eke out, letting go. It's like a boa constrictor has wrapped itself around my chest. Over and over again, I read the note, written in my father's hand. The date in the top corner is from the day Raina arrived. The day he lost the election. The day I officially became the key to the uprising.

I blink rapidly to clear the film of tears that's obscuring my vision. With a shift to the edge of the stiff cushion, I fix my gaze on Farouk. “What do I do?”

*   *   *

I still don't know what I'm supposed to do.

Despite Henry's arms-crossed, teeth-grinding disapproval, I described Samara and Nadia's plan to Farouk. It wasn't only my father's note that convinced me to do so, it was the fact that Farouk could have easily read my mind and discovered that much and more if he wanted to. Maybe he already has. But I like to think that, this way, I'm the one in control of the information being relayed.

Control. Way to be an Afrit, Azra.

Farouk's brow furrows as he considers what I've said. “Tell me this, Azra, do you believe your abilities truly have nothing to do with your father's plan?”

No, I don't. But you know that already, don't you?

The white of his teeth flashes for an instant before he stifles his grin. “Aside from reciting his spell, of course. Removing bangles, protecting Jinn from being found, that's certainly important.” He ups the air conditioning before adding another log to the fire. “But the question to ask yourself is why it is important for
you
. Why do
you
need to be the one to do it? Why did your father design it specifically for
you
?”

My nostrils flare. “I don't know, but since it's clear that you do, why don't we
drop the pretenses
, and you just tell me?”

Farouk laughs. “Patience has never been an Afrit trait.”

“She's a Nadira,” Henry spits out.

“That she is, my boy. A Nadira and an Afrit. Two bloodlines coming together.”

I roll my eyes. “Which dilutes the Afrit, I know. It's not my mother's fault that all this happened.”

“Did I say it was?” Farouk asks, placing his hand on his chest.

“No, but I figured you were going to.”

“Azra, dear, your mother and father are to be thanked.” He sits on the coffee table directly across from me. “Their love changed everything. It created you.” The affection in his voice, in his eyes, can't be missed.

He quickly stands and returns to his armchair. “Now, if there is any Jinn who can create the necessary spells, it is your mother. Her Zar sisters are on the right track. Gaining the upper hand, showing the Afrit they are not in control, that's certainly what your father aims to do. But your father has always been a fan of Greek mythology. Do you know the story of the Trojan horse?”

“Sure,” I say.

Henry slaps his hand against the couch. “A wooden horse? You want her to ride into Janna hidden inside a hollow statue? Maybe we should bank on your mother instead, Azra.”

Farouk reclaims his glass of amber liquid. The ice has long since melted. “She doesn't have to hide herself, my boy. The Trojan horse in this case is already concealed inside her.”

“Is that like a riddle?” Henry huffs. “Because I suck at riddles.”

Farouk laughs again. “A lot to take in for a human. Perhaps another brandy will help?” One appears on the table.

“A lot to take in for anyone,” I say.

Farouk nods slowly. He sips his drink and winces.

I conjure ice cubes, making them appear in his glass.

“
Shukran
, dear.” He swirls the liquid to cool it. “Now, let me assure you, I am not speaking in riddles. In fact, this needs to be stated explicitly. Much too much is riding on it. And so, you see, the simple truth is that Azra's Trojan horse is her magic. Her magic that even the Afrit council could not take away.”

“Because I was never injected, right?”

“Ah, no, you were. I stuck the needle in myself.”

“You?” I leap to my feet.

Farouk waves his hand. “Sit, child, I am not proud of it. Hard to believe I ever was. It was simply the way things were done. I've come to feel differently, of course, but I no longer wield the power I once did. The council does not respond kindly to those of us who suggest change. Your father saw what happened to me. If it weren't for him, I'd be in a cell in tortura cavea instead of exiled here.”

“That's why he's been working so slowly to win council members over,” I say.

“Unlike us, he does have patience.” He takes a swig. “Ah, much better. Mmm … now where was I?”

“My injection.”

“Oh, yes. You were indeed injected with the same compound as all other Jinn, but from the moment I depressed the plunger, your body resisted. It went in and spurted right out, like it hit a wall. That was the day I realized your father was right. You see, Azra, your father has always believed that by keeping the bloodline pure, the Afrit were actually eliciting the opposite of their intended effect. The strength we thought we were maintaining all these years was being lost. Generation upon generation, the weaker traits were coming out. The mixing of pure Afrit blood and that of your mother, who happens to come from an impressive line of her own, ensured the best of both sides rose to the surface. In you.”