I filed several more books and caught the glint of his dark eyes whenever I moved into his periphery. If he was so possessive of his books, he shouldn’t have assigned me the task of organizing them.
The next book was heavier than the first and bound in deep, navy-blue leather with gilded gold lettering.On the Nature of Genies.My pulse tripped. I opened the book with deliberate slowness, careful not to let the spine crack.
The script was dense and tedious-looking, but a passage near the front caught my attention:
He who possesses the genie’s vessel possesses the servant, and the more wishes the master makes, the stronger the genie becomes. Once a human is bonded to a genie, the genie is unable to disobey any direct wish the human makes. Genies draw their life force from their human master and must remain in close proximity or else the genie’s strength eventually fades. If the human master dies, the genie will wither away unless it gains a new master. For this reason, genies are often passed down from generation to generation.
Generation to generation… No wonder Rahil was so eager to keep his inheritance, even if he also felt cursed because of it. I wouldn’t want to give up unlimited wishes either.
I looked back down to the book and began to quietly read aloud. “Wishes should be made cautiously; genies are traditionally rebellious spirits and are notorious for twisting each command for their own selfish benefits if they cannot convince the master to free them.”
Zafir stopped writing mid-stroke. “Don’t read aloud,” he commanded.
“Oh, forgive me,” I replied, flipping another page. “I thought you wanted me to alphabetize, not keep quiet.”
“I want you to do both. You’ll work faster if you’re silent.”
“I’ll work slower if I’m bored.”
That earned me nothing but an eye roll, a long-suffering exhale, and the sound of his quill scratching again. I went back to perusing the book. A replica of the mark on my own wrist was drawn on the next page.
My gaze flicked toward Zafir, then back to the page. Did the mark on my wrist mean I’d been bound to some spirit eager to twist my words? I’d only made the one wish and gotten exactly what I’d foolishly wished for; my words hadn’t been twisted at all. Then again, there was no need to twist an already foolish wish. The genie was probably laughing at me from inside its lamp, wondering why I would wish for something so ridiculous.
I shut the book with a soft thump and put it on a lower shelf, next to the geography book. Genie and geography were close together. My bangles jingled again as I stretched. I couldfeelZafir’s eyes on me, though he didn’t lift his head.
“Imported fur sofas, special potion ingredients, and a very old library filled with antique books,” I said lightly. “Tell me, Zafir, do you own anything that isn’t expensive? How is it you own all these things but can’t afford a trip to Brisden?”
“I spend my money on useful things. It would take timefor me to save up; I won’t get rid of anything I’ve already taken possession of. It’s all worth keeping.”
If I was going to seduce Julian, I needed to practice. I shot him a look over my shoulder and lowered my voice to what I thought a flirtatious tone would sound like. “You arrested me. That is kind of like taking possession. Does that mean you think I’m worth keeping?”
This time, he did look up. I had hoped that he would squirm or get flustered, but I was disappointed to see the same cool passivity that was always slapped across his face. “I conducted an interrogation, and you elected to stay chained to me against my will. That isn’t even remotely the same thing.”
I let out a sigh of exasperation. “I thought you said Julian would want to court me in front of you to watch you get embarrassed.”
Zafir signed a document, moved it to the side, and began reading the next paper. “And he will. I promise when the time comes, I’ll put on a good show so he’s motivated to continue. But for now, there’s no reason for me to behave in such an irrational way.”
“I’ll bet you’re the life of every party, aren’t you?” I drawled sarcastically, pulling another tome from the shelves. “Oh look, something as lively as your personality.” I cleared my throat. “On the Persistence of Ashes: Cyclical Life Patterns in Arid Biomes. How fascinating. Or this one”—I pulled down another—“An Inquiry into the Phenomenon of Spontaneous Avian Reconstitution.”
Zafir scratched his nose with the end of his quill. “Laugh all you want. That one is actually quite a fascinating read about how phoenixes can rise from their ashes after their deaths.”
“They should have named it something more interesting, then. Like…Burning Rebirth: The Secret Life of Phoenixes.”
“Ah, but if the normal population was motivated to learn, they would be much harder to control. When people are only focused on fast entertainment, true knowledge and advancement pass them by and they become slaves to their own immediate gratification.”
He placidly dipped his quill into the ink pot and continued, “The common man calls it freedom when he chases cheap amusement and fleeting fancies, but the only way to truly free yourself from the bonds of poverty or ignorance is to force yourself to delay gratification in exchange for a greater reward in the future.”
I shook my head. “Like I said, you must be the life of every party.”
He shrugged, unconcerned. Did nothing ever bother him?
The next book I opened made me pause. Its cover was cracked and the silver lettering was nearly rubbed off, but inside were drawings of vessels that contained genies. Some were bottles of varying shapes and sizes while many others were rings, but each bore symbols just like the ones I’d seen on the lamp.
A genie’s bond with a human is both symbiotic and parasitic. Without a human master, the genie would eventually perish, and without a genie granting wishes, a human’s ascent to power is more laborious and time-consuming. Working together harmoniously, a human bonded to a genie could be unstoppable. However, genies crave their own independence and will often work to thwart their master, despite depending on the human’s life for their own survival.
Zafir cleared his throat loudly. “You aren’t alphabetizing.”
I didn’t answer. I was still flipping through the book, staring at the symbols. Then came that same picture of the genie’s mark again, identical to what was tattooed onto my wrist.
