Page 15

Chapter

Fifteen

Kieran watched Mandy's face as emotions flickered across her features - hope warring with fear, possibility wrestling with decades of learned limitations.

Acting on an impulse he hadn't felt in decades, he leaned forward slightly in his chair. "Tell me," his deep voice gentled, "when you could walk freely, where did you most enjoy going?"

The question seemed to catch her off guard. She blinked at him, her brow furrowing as she reached back through memories.

"Reid Park," she said finally, a soft smile lighting her features. "There's this beautiful lake there, with all these walking paths around it." Her eyes grew distant with remembrance. "The ducks and geese would waddle up to visitors, hoping for treats. And once..." Her smile widened. "Once I saw a cormorant there. Just sitting on a branch sticking out of the water, spreading its wings to dry in the sun."

Kieran absorbed the simple joy in her expression as she described this cherished memory, and something within him stirred, responding to her wistful tone. How long had it been since she'd walked those paths? How many years since she'd stood by that lake, watching waterfowl glide across its surface?

Kieran rose from his chair in one fluid motion, extending his hand toward Mandy. "Come walk in the park with me for a while."

Her forest green eyes widened in surprise, darting between his offered hand and his face. "What? How?"

"A temporary healing spell," he explained, his deep voice carrying that otherworldly resonance that made the air vibrate slightly. "It will last perhaps two or three hours, but during that time you will be free of pain and disability."

He observed the rapid play of emotions across her expressive features - hope warring with disbelief, yearning clear in her gaze. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for his, hesitating just before making contact.

"It won't harm you," he assured her, keeping his voice gentle. Her vulnerability touched something within him he'd thought long buried under centuries of duty and protocol. How long had it been since he'd felt such an urge to ease another's suffering? "And it will give you a taste of what your wish could accomplish permanently."

Her fingers were warm as they finally settled into his palm. Such a small hand, he marveled, yet it held such strength. He could feel the years of pain and determination in her grip as she used his support to pull herself up from the chair.

"You mean..." She swallowed hard, those green eyes searching his face. "I'll be able to actually walk? Without pain?"

Kieran allowed a small smile to curve his lips, an expression that felt foreign after so many centuries of maintaining his austere demeanor. "Yes. Shall we visit your lake?"

He watched as Mandy automatically reached for her cane, propped against the side of her recliner. Her movements were so practiced, so ingrained after decades of dependency. He caught her wrist gently before her fingers could close around the metal handle.

"You won't need that," he said, his deep voice resonating with certainty.

"Oh, right." Her cheeks colored a little with embarrassment. "So, how does it work?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Instead of answering immediately, Kieran took both her hands in his. Her fingers were warm against his palms, trembling slightly with uncertainty. The blue fire within him stirred, responding to his intent before he consciously called it forth.

Azure flames danced along his arms, flowing from his hands into hers. The fire spread up her arms, wrapping around her shoulders before trailing down her spine in a sinuous stream of cobalt light. The flames cascaded down her legs, wrapping around her knees where he knew the arthritis caused her the most pain.

Mandy's eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise as she felt the tingling warmth of his Djinn fire. He monitored her reactions carefully, ensuring the magic remained gentle and soothing rather than overwhelming. The blue flames responded to his will, seeking out the damaged areas of her body and surrounding them with healing warmth.

"Oh!" she breathed, wonder replacing the uncertainty in her expression. "It's warm, like... like sunshine on my skin. But inside somehow?"

Kieran nodded, maintaining his focus as the last of the blue fire settled into place. He could feel the magic working, temporarily resetting her body to its earlier, healthier state.

Releasing her hands, he watched intently as she took a hesitant step forward, then another. The transformation in her expression captivated him - decades of pain and limitation melting away as she realized she could move freely.

Her eyes widened with wonder. "I can't... I mean, I can!" She took several more steps, a delighted laugh bubbling up from her chest. "It doesn't hurt at all!"

The pure joy radiating from her face awakened something within him, a lightness of spirit he hadn't felt in centuries.

"We should go right now," she exclaimed, practically bouncing on her toes. "I don't want to waste a single minute of this. The park's only about five minutes away."

A laugh escaped him before he could contain it, the sound surprising them both. When was the last time someone had made him laugh? He couldn't remember.

"One moment," he said, halting her enthusiastic rush to the door.

The air shimmered with magic as Kieran raised his hands, his vibrant blue robes dissolving into sparkles of light that swirled, then coalesced into contemporary clothing as the last of the sparkles dissipated.

Mandy's mind stuttered to a halt as she stared at Kieran. Gone were his usual flowing robes. Instead, he wore tailored slacks and a crisp white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled precisely to his elbows, revealing strong forearms. A subtle pattern woven into the fabric caught the morning light. The top two buttons were undone, showing just a hint of throat, while the fit emphasized his broad shoulders and lean frame.

The effect was... devastating. Even in this more relaxed attire, he radiated authority and refinement. His silver-white hair was pulled back in a neat queue at the nape of his neck, and his ice-blue eyes sparkled with amusement at her obvious surprise.

A light breeze stirred the air, carrying the scent of creosote and sage. While others might have wilted in the growing Arizona heat, Kieran looked perfectly composed. Of course he did - he was a being formed of smokeless fire. Desert temperatures probably felt refreshing to him.

"Ready?" he asked, lifting one dark eyebrow.

Mandy started, realizing she'd been staring. She felt her cheeks warm as she gathered her keys and purse. At the door, she paused to wave goodbye to her cats, who watched from their perches by the window. "You two be good," she told them sternly.

Kieran settled into the passenger seat of Mandy's small car, his tall frame requiring some adjustment of the seat.

"I could have transported us directly," he explained, his deep voice carrying a note of apology. "But materializing in public spaces can be... problematic. Especially in areas I haven't personally visited before."

"Oh, of course!" Mandy's enthusiastic nod surprised him. "Like in Star Trek, you wouldn't want to beam down into the middle of a tree or something. Or worse, into another person!"

Her quick understanding pleased him. Most humans required lengthy explanations about the limitations of magic, but Mandy's mind seemed to grasp the practical aspects intuitively.

She guided the car into a parking space near the lake, and they exited the vehicle. Mandy practically bounced on her toes as she led the way toward the water.

Kieran watched as Mandy's steps quickened along the path, her movements free and natural without the constant burden of pain. She seemed different now, when unencumbered by physical limitations. Not just her movements, but her spirit seemed to burn even brighter, as if the pain had cast a cloud over her that now moved aside so she stood in the sun.

"I used to come here every Sunday," she said, eyes bright with memories. "Back when Sabrina was little."

"Why Sundays specifically?" The question emerged before he could consider whether it was too personal.

A soft smile lit her features. "Sunday was waffle morning. I'd make a big batch of waffles - it was our special tradition. And afterward, we'd bring the leftover waffles here to feed the ducks and geese."

"Sometimes there'd even be a swan," she continued, her eyes fixed on the rippling water. "We figured it must have escaped from Reid Park Zoo - it's just over there." She pointed toward a cluster of trees in the distance. "The swan would glide over so regally, like royalty expecting tribute. Sabrina always saved an extra piece of waffle, just in case it showed up."

Kieran observed how Mandy's steps remained light and easy as they followed the curving path along the water's edge. His blue fire hummed contentedly within him, maintaining the temporary healing spell with barely a whisper of effort.

"This is wonderful," Mandy breathed, her deep green eyes sparkling. "Just like the old days, when I could walk for hours without thinking about it."

She tilted her face upward, catching the sunbeams that filtered through the canopy of trees above them. The dappled light played across her features, highlighting the joy that radiated from her expression. Despite the fierce Arizona heat that made most humans wilt and seek shelter, she seemed to draw energy from the warmth, her movements becoming even more fluid and natural.

Kieran found himself captivated by the transformation. The woman beside him bore little resemblance to the careful, pain-limited being who had needed a cane to cross her own living room.

He acted on reflex as Mandy's foot caught on an uneven patch of ground, and his hand shot out, catching her arm and steadying her before she could fall.

Her forest green eyes met his, twinkling with mirth rather than embarrassment. "Thank you! My knight in shining... robes?"

The playful tone in her voice stirred something long dormant within him. His hand slid down her arm of its own accord, fingers intertwining with hers. The contact sent an unexpected warmth through him, a pleasant sensation he hadn't anticipated.

"I got so excited about being able to walk normally again, I forgot to actually watch where I was going," she admitted, her warm fingers squeezing his gently.

Kieran found himself unable to release her hand as they continued along the path. The simple human contact felt... pleasant. When was the last time he'd walked hand-in-hand with anyone? Centuries ago, perhaps? Or had he ever?

Kieran found himself drawn into Mandy's enthusiasm as she pointed out the various waterfowl gliding across the lake's surface. Her knowledge surprised him - she identified each species with certainty, from the mallards with their iridescent green heads to the snow-white egret stalking through the shallows.

"Oh look, there's a cormorant!" Her hand tightened in his as she gestured toward a dark bird perched on a partially submerged log.

He couldn't help but smile, responding to her genuine delight. She showed the same enthusiasm for the dogs being walked along the path, waving to their owners and commenting on breeds and temperaments. Her laughter joined the sounds of children playing nearby, the pure joy in the sound stirring something deep within him.

What fascinated him most was the complete absence of ulterior motive in her actions. In his centuries of existence, humans who knew his true nature invariably wanted something from him - sex, power, wealth, revenge. Yet here was this woman, holding his hand and chattering about a golden retriever's silly antics, with no trace of guile or manipulation in those clear green eyes..

She simply enjoyed the moment, treasuring this temporary gift of freedom he'd granted her. The realization settled something within him, calming the habitual suspicion that centuries of dealing with human nature had instilled.

"The ducks are coming this way," she said, tugging gently at his hand. "I wish I'd brought some bread - though I know that's not good for them. That's why we brought waffles, they couldn't choke on the pieces."

Kieran felt Mandy's hand shift in his as she turned to look up at him. The afternoon sunlight caught in her dark hair, highlighting the silver strands scattered throughout.

"You know, we've talked so much about me," she said, those unshadowed green eyes searching his face. "But what about you? Tell me about Qaf - that's the homeland of the Djinn, right?"

The question stirred memories within him - memories of emerald mountains stretching endlessly toward azure skies, of magical cities that shimmered like mirages in the desert heat. His blue fire danced beneath his skin, responding to thoughts of home.

"Yes," he said, his deep voice carrying notes of both pride and nostalgia. "Qaf is... a mystical place. A realm of pure magic that exists beyond the veil of your world."

The words felt inadequate to describe the majesty of his homeland, but how could he explain colors that had no names in human languages? How could he describe the way magic flowed through the very air like water, or the way reality itself bent and shifted according to the will of the Djinn who dwelled there?

Kieran studied Mandy's upturned face, those forest green eyes bright with genuine interest. No calculation lurked behind her gaze, no scheming to gain advantage from knowledge of the Djinn realm. Her curiosity rang pure and true, like a clear bell on a winter morning.

"My people maintain the old ways," he began, his deep voice softening with memories. "Our village appears as a traditional Bedouin encampment - black wool tents arranged in circles around the central gathering place."

Mandy's hand tightened in his, her warmth anchoring him as ancient images flooded his mind. The Council chambers with their marble columns. The quiet dignity of village elders discussing matters of state. Young Djinn at their lessons in the courtyards. Lilah, chasing her blue fire through the evening air. All the countless lives intertwined in his realm, each one his responsibility to protect.

A gentle squeeze of her fingers brought him back to the present, those forest green eyes watching him with patient interest.

"The tents look simple from the outside," he continued, "but inside... inside, they expand into grand spaces where marble columns rise to domed ceilings, and ancient tapestries line the walls. Each dwelling contains its own courtyards and fountains. The magic allows us to blend traditional architecture with comfort - crystal chandeliers illuminate rooms furnished with silk and gold, while mosaic floors tell stories of our history."

Mandy tilted her head, wonder and awe gleaming in her green eyes. "Like a Tardis?"

Kieran's black brows drew together in puzzlement at the unfamiliar reference. "Like a what?"

"A Tardis!" Her eyes sparkled brightly with delight, then dimmed slightly at his blank expression. "Or maybe like the magic tents in Harry Potter?"

He fixed her with the stern look he typically reserved for young Djinn who'd overstepped their bounds, but her resulting laugh held such genuine mirth that he found his own amusement rising in response.

"What I mean is," she explained, squeezing his hand gently, "they're bigger on the inside than they appear from the outside."

"Ah." His features softened as understanding dawned. "Yes, that is precisely how it is."

Her intuitive grasp of magical concepts continued to intrigue him. Most humans struggled with such fundamental principles, yet Mandy seemed to find natural parallels in her own experience, even if they came from what appeared to be fictional references.

"Not all Djinn choose to live in the village," he said, his deep voice carrying across the peaceful lake setting. "Although most maintain a residence there for ceremonies and gatherings, many establish homes elsewhere in Qaf according to their preferences. The magic of Qaf allows us to create whatever dwelling suits us best."

Mandy's eyes lit up with understanding. "Oh! So someone could have an English mansion on the moors if they wanted? Or maybe a little thatch-roofed hut on a beach somewhere?"

Her quick intuition pleased him. Once again, she'd jumped straight to the heart of the matter, seeing the possibilities.

"Yes, exactly." He found himself smiling slightly at her enthusiasm.

Kieran watched as Mandy's brow furrowed, those forest green eyes narrowing in thought.

"But how is there room for all those different dwellings?" she asked. "Wouldn't they overlap or run into each other?"

Amusement stirred at her practical concern. Humans often struggled with concepts that transcended their physical reality.

"Qaf exists in a mystical dimension," he explained. "The rules of space and distance work differently there. But more importantly..." He paused, considering how to phrase this. "There are not nearly as many Djinn as there are humans. Our total population numbers can be counted in the thousands, not millions."

Surprise flickered across her expressive features. "Really? So few?"

"We are immortal," he continued, watching understanding dawn in her eyes. "We do not have the evolutionary drive to reproduce that mortal species do. Consequently, children are quite rare among our people."

Kieran observed the shift in Mandy's expression as sympathy clouded her face.

"That's so sad," she started to say, but he halted her words with a lifted eyebrow.

"Stop. Think about what I just told you."

They came to a halt along the lake path, the afternoon sun casting dappled shadows through the trees overhead. He watched her process his words, those expressive features shifting through various emotions as she considered the implications.

Suddenly, her face lit up with understanding, those green eyes sparkling with delight.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, her warm hand tightening in his. "That means all Djinn children are wanted! Every pregnancy was because a child was wanted, and so every child would be cherished!"

He found himself unexpectedly delighted by her quick insight. Once again, she'd grasped the heart of the matter without needing lengthy explanations. How refreshing to encounter a human who thought beyond surface appearances.

"We are fortunate enough to have a dozen or so children in our village at this time. One is a small girl named Lilah. She's about five years old and learning to control her magic."

Her head tilted, and she frowned in puzzlement. "I thought you said children are rare?"

Kieran shrugged. "Rare is relative, of course, but in a village made up of hundreds, a handful of children is not much."

Kieran caught Mandy's eye roll and her muttered words about "clueless men." His ancient hearing picked up every syllable, though she likely thought otherwise. Perhaps he should be offended, but there was something oddly charming about her candid commentary.

He chose not to comment, instead observing how the afternoon sunlight caught the silver strands in her dark hair. The temporary healing spell continued to hum steadily through their joined hands, requiring barely a whisper of his power to maintain.

"So tell me more about Lilah?" Mandy invited, clearly interested.

His lips quirked with amusement as he recalled the child's latest proclamation. "She's quite shy around strangers, but when she makes up her mind about something..." He shook his head, remembering her fierce determination. "Just last week, she announced to the village council that she intends to become a Wish Bearer."

Her green eyes widened. "At five? That's adorable!"

Kieran couldn't suppress his chuckle, the sound surprising him again. "We had to explain that one must be at least fifty years old before beginning Wish Bearer training. She was most displeased."

Amusement lit Mandy's features. "I suppose to a five-year-old, fifty must seem absolutely ancient." She squeezed his hand gently. "Though I imagine that's quite young by Djinn standards?"

"Indeed. At fifty, most Djinn are just coming out of their adolescence."

Kieran observed the keen interest in Mandy's gaze as she processed this new information about Wish Bearer training. Her intellectual curiosity continued to impress him - she approached each revelation about the Djinn world with genuine fascination.

"That's…" she paused, shaking her head in amused perplexity. "That's so much to take in. That there is training to grant wishes."

"Wish magic is fundamentally different from our innate Djinn abilities. Think of it as... a specialized form of power that requires specific training to master."

He considered how best to explain the complex magical principles. "The vessel itself - in this case, the pendant you wear - contains and channels the Wish magic. We Wish Bearers draw upon that power to grant the specific wishes requested."

Mandy's hand tightened in his as understanding dawned across her features. "Like what you did earlier - giving me these pain-free hours. So that's not Wish magic, but your own?"

"Exactly," Kieran replied, pleased by her quick grasp of the concept. "That was my personal Djinn magic - powerful, but temporary. To grant your wish for permanent healing would require drawing upon the specific magic contained within the Wish vessel."

"That would be so wonderful," she said softly, her gaze growing distant. "To be able to help people like that."

For the first time, he heard a trace of wistful envy in her voice. Her genuine desire to ease others' suffering touched something within him, reminding him of another who had shared that same drive to help others. A faint smile curved his lips.

"That reminds me of Julian DiConti," he said, his deep voice carrying notes of both amusement and old sorrow. "A mage who lived during the time of the Black Death in Genoa, Italy. Julian cast a spell, hoping to gain the power to help plague victims."

The weight of those dark memories settled over him like a shadow. "But magic has its own rules, its own price. The spell bound him to a Djinn vessel instead, forcing him to grant wishes for over six centuries. It wasn't until two years ago that the spell was finally broken, freeing him from that magical servitude."

Mandy's green eyes widened with sympathy. "Six hundred years forced to grant other people's wishes? That must have been... difficult."

Kieran observed the play of emotions across Mandy's expressive features as she processed Julian's story. Her face clouded with compassion, and her hand tightened in his as she shook her head slowly.

"That doesn't seem fair at all," she said, her voice soft with empathy. "He only wanted to help people who were suffering and dying from a horrible disease. To be punished for that kind of compassion by being trapped for centuries... that's cruel. Especially since he probably had to watch people he cared about die from the plague while having his powers restricted to just granting wishes instead of being able to heal them directly. I can't imagine how heartbreaking that must have been."

The simple understanding in her voice touched something within him. Most humans focused on the power such magic could grant, never considering the cost to the one wielding it. But Mandy had instantly grasped the tragedy at its heart.

"It turned out well enough in the end," he said gruffly. "The bottle came into the possession of a young woman named Alessandra. She managed to break the spell." His lips curved slightly at the memory. "They're happily married now, living in Staten Island."

Mandy came to an abrupt halt on the path, her hand tightening in his as she turned to face him. Her face alight with recognition.

"Wait - Julian DiConti?" She stared up at him in astonishment, her grip on his hand tightening. "The reclusive billionaire? The one who has the Uncommon Threads exhibit that toured the country last year? It was written up in all the big magazines!" Her face lit with excitement, and Kieran noted how her green eyes sparkled like jewels with the same enthusiasm he'd witnessed whenever she discussed her writing.

"The exhibit came to Phoenix last year," she said, her warm hand tightening in his. "I'd planned to drive up and see it, but that weekend..." She shrugged, a gesture he was beginning to recognize as her way of dismissing painful memories. "My back decided to have other ideas. The pain got so bad I could barely move."

Empathy stirred, responding to the quiet resignation in her voice. How many experiences had Mandy missed out on due to her physical limitations? How many dreams had she been forced to set aside?

The regret in her tone as she continued struck something deep within him. "I really wanted to see those textiles, the embroidery, and sequin work. The photos in the magazines were beautiful, but seeing them in person would have been..." She shook her head slowly. "Well, it doesn't matter now."

But it did matter, Kieran thought. The way her voice trailed off, the slight slump of her shoulders - these small signs revealed how deeply such limitations had affected her life.

Kieran observed the shadow of regret darkening Mandy's green eyes. Such a small thing - wanting to see beautiful textiles - yet her physical limitations had denied her even that simple pleasure.

"Julian put the best of each collection into a permanent collection on display in Washington DC," he said, his deep voice gentling. "Perhaps after your first wish," he continued, carefully watching her reaction, "you might consider flying out to see it."

Kieran watched as those eyes lit with possibility. The transformation was like sunshine breaking through storm clouds.

"I could, couldn't I?" Her whole face brightened with the realization. She gave a little skip as they walked, her hand warm in his.

The scent of grilled meat and spices drifted toward them on the hot desert breeze. Mandy's steps quickened, pulling him gently along the path.

"Oh! The taco truck is here!" She beamed up at him. "Could we get lunch? They make the most amazing tacos - I used to come here all the time before..." She gestured vaguely with her free hand. "Well, before walking got so difficult. We'll need to head back soon anyway, before the healing spell wears off."

Kieran shook his head. Even in her excitement, she remained practical, aware of the temporary nature of the freedom he'd granted her.

He found himself drawn along by Mandy's enthusiasm to the food truck, its brightly painted exterior adorned with images of Mexican dishes. Her hand remained warm in his as she ordered for them both - something called "street tacos" with carne asada and various toppings. He was amused when she insisted on paying, waving him away when he would have conjured currency.

They settled on a nearby bench in the shade of a sprawling mesquite tree. Mandy bit into her taco, and a sound of pure pleasure escaped her. "Oh! So good!" she exclaimed, her eyes closing in bliss. "I'd forgotten how amazing these are."

Kieran sampled his own taco, finding the blend of spices and textures intriguing. He couldn't remember the last time he'd shared a meal with anyone in the mortal realm, nor had he ever thought to visit a food truck.

After finishing their lunch, they walked back to her car. The afternoon heat had intensified, but as before, Mandy seemed energized rather than wilted by the warmth. Her movements remained fluid and pain-free as she drove them back to her apartment.

Back in Mandy's apartment, she turned to face him, but Kieran lifted one hand, halting whatever she'd been about to say. He studied her face, remembering her joy during their walk, her enthusiasm over simple pleasures like feeding ducks and eating tacos. The way her green eyes had lit up discussing Julian's textile collection.

How long had it been since anyone had sparked such unfamiliar impulses in him? The desire to ease suffering, yes - that was part of being a Wish Bearer. But this... this urge to bring happiness just for the sake of seeing someone smile? When had he last felt that?

His gaze swept over her features, noting how the temporary healing spell still allowed her to stand easily, without pain clouding her expression. The magic would fade soon, returning her to a reality of limited mobility and constant discomfort.

Something shifted inside him. For the first time in centuries, duty and protocol gave way to purpose of a different kind. Perhaps Jacinth had been right to choose this woman as his vessel bearer. Perhaps he'd forgotten something important about magic - that sometimes joy itself was reason enough.

The realization settled over him like desert sunlight, warm and clarifying. His centuries-old heart stirred with an emotion he couldn't quite name.

Kieran held out his hand, his decision crystallizing with perfect clarity. In this moment, nothing had ever felt more right. No more protocols, no more maintaining that carefully crafted distance. For the first time in too long, he would act on impulse rather than duty.

Mandy's warm fingers slipped into his without hesitation, her forest green eyes meeting his with quiet trust. The contact sent a ripple through his fire, awakening something that had slumbered for centuries. Her simple acceptance, free from calculation or ulterior motive, touched a place within him he'd thought long buried under the weight of responsibility and tradition.