Page 7
Chapter
Seven
Mandy lay in bed that night, watching shadows dance across her ceiling. Her mind refused to quiet. Magic was real. Three wishes. Two Djinn - one a prince - had spent the better part of the day (and evening!) in her living room. Even finding her kitchen magically cleaned and leftovers neatly stored hadn't made it seem more real.
Mozart curled against her hip, but tonight even his purring couldn't soothe her.
The pendant pulsed warm against her chest, reminding her this wasn't a dream. She touched it, remembering Kieran's unexpected laugh, his stern features softening. A Djinn prince, sitting with her cats.
After another hour of tossing and turning, Mandy gave up. The clock's glowing numbers read 2:03 AM. Her back protested as she pushed herself up, careful not to disturb Mozart.
"Sorry, sweetie," she whispered as the cat blinked sleepily at her. "Can't sleep."
She pulled on some jeans, a loose shirt, and her comfortable walking shoes, grabbed her purse, cane, and car keys, and headed out into the warm Arizona summer night. Joe's, the 24- hour diner a few miles away, beckoned like a beacon of normalcy in her suddenly magical world.
The familiar bell chimed as she pushed open the glass door. The diner's fluorescent lights cast everything in a harsh glow, but somehow that made it feel more real, more grounding.
"Evening, Ms. D," called Jenny, the night shift waitress who'd served Mandy during countless other sleepless nights. "The usual?"
Mandy settled into her favorite booth, the vinyl seat squeaking beneath her. "Yes, please. Extra fudge tonight."
Jenny's knowing smile suggested she understood completely. The waitress had seen Mandy through many late-night writing sessions and bouts of writing- or pain-related insomnia over the years.
Minutes later, a brimming glass of iced tea and a massive hot fudge sundae appeared before her - two scoops of vanilla ice cream drowning in thick chocolate fudge, light on whipped cream, with chopped nuts, and a bright red maraschino cherry. The kind of dessert that would have horrified her doctor, but sometimes you needed what you needed.
Mandy picked up her spoon, watching the fudge sauce slowly drip down the sides of the ice cream mountain. The first bite melted on her tongue, sweet and cold and gloriously ordinary. No magic, no wishes, just good old-fashioned ice cream and chocolate.
Mandy stirred her rapidly melting sundae, watching the vanilla ice cream swirl with rivers of chocolate fudge. She needed to focus, to wrestle her chaotic thoughts into some semblance of order. The events of the past twenty-four hours tumbled through her mind like clothes in a dryer - magic, Djinn, wishes, princes...
A quote from Blazing Saddles popped into her head, making her lips twitch: "Out of chaos comes order." The character had attributed it to Nietzsche, delivered with pompous certainty. She had a nagging suspicion that someone else entirely had actually said it first, but she'd never bothered to look it up. The thought that one of the most frequently quoted "Nietzsche" lines might actually belong to someone else, perpetuated simply because Mel Brooks had put it in his movie, made her snicker into her ice cream.
The absurdity of sitting in a diner at 2 AM, contemplating mis-attributed philosophical quotes while magic literally hung around her neck, struck her suddenly. A bubble of laughter escaped before she could stop it.
Jenny glanced over from behind the counter, one eyebrow raised in silent question. Mandy just shook her head, unable to explain that she was laughing at the bizarre turns her life had taken. How do you tell someone that you're processing the existence of magic by obsessing over movie quotes?
Okay, so. Djinn, and magical wishes. That was a thing.
Digging into her purse, she hauled out the laptop that lived there - just in case, you know, she got stuck somewhere unexpectedly - and fired it up. Connecting it to the diner's wi-fi, she opened the browser window. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before typing "djinn mythology" into the search bar.
Hundreds of results popped up. She clicked on several academic sources first, cross-referencing information against what she'd learned years ago studying pre-Islamic folklore when in Cairo, and confirmed more recently by Kieran and Jacinth. Much of it aligned - Djinn were created from smokeless fire, possessed free will, and could be good or evil. They inhabited a parallel world, invisible to human eyes unless they chose to reveal themselves. Yada, yada.
Other details varied wildly. Some sources claimed Djinn were fallen angels, others that they were demons. A few insisted they were nature spirits. The descriptions of their powers ranged from fairly accurate - shape-shifting, invisibility, granting wishes - to completely outlandish claims about eating human souls.
Mandy closed several browser tabs in frustration. It hadn't taken her long to realize that information on the Djinn was finite, and fairly limited. The more she searched, the more she saw the same information repeated over and over on different websites, just reworded slightly. She decided to bypass an English translation of the Qur'an's surah - chapter - on the Djinn. She already knew, roughly, what it said, from her long-ago studies in Cairo, and it dealt almost exclusively with the bad Djinn and what they could do. She wasn't dealing with bad Djinn, she was dealing with Wish Bearers, and ancient Djinn princes.
Kieran... her fingers drifted to the pendant again. A prince of the Djinn - the thought still staggered her - who'd materialized in her cramped living room to explain wish-granting as if discussing the weather.
She glanced up as Jenny approached with a pitcher of iced tea. The waitress's eyes darted to the laptop screen as she topped off Mandy's glass.
"Oh, genies!" Jenny's eyes lit up with interest. "Research for your next book?"
Mandy fought back a grin. If only she knew! "Absolutely," she agreed.
"Ooh!" Jenny bounced on her toes, her ponytail swinging with excitement. "What's the plot going to be? Will there be romance? Magic? Both?" Her eager expression reminded Mandy of the day Jenny had discovered one of Mandy's books left behind in a booth and realized her regular late-night customer was actually the author.
Mandy couldn't help but laugh at her friend's enthusiasm. "I haven't figured that out yet. Still in the early research phase."
Jenny's lower lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout. "You're such a tease." She refilled Mandy's glass from the pitcher, and headed back to the kitchen, tossing a wink over her shoulder. "Write faster!"
Mandy closed the last few tabs. The internet might be vast, but when it came to real Djinn magic - especially Wish Bearers - it was about as useful as a chocolate teapot.
Pushing aside her empty sundae dish, Mandy pulled up Word. Research was a bust. It hadn't told her a single thing she didn't already know, or that Kieran and Jacinth couldn't tell her the truth of. No, it was time to start a list. She loved lists. Lists helped her make sense of things, and especially when her mind was working overtime, like tonight, and writing things down let her mind let go of them, so to speak.
The blank document stared back at her, cursor blinking steadily. She typed "Things I Know About Djinn" at the top and hit enter twice. Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she began itemizing:
Djinn are real (!!!)
Created from smokeless fire
Live in parallel realm called Qaf
Can grant wishes (some of them - Wish Bearers)
Can't be killed (according to Kieran)
Can marry humans (Jacinth + Douglas)
Have their own society/rules/council
Can do magic without granting wishes (Jacinth's kitchen tricks)
Some are royalty (Kieran = prince!)
Can change their appearance? (the Qur'an says so… ask about this!)
Live basically forever (Jacinth = 900+, Kieran = ancient at least 3,000 years)
Questions tumbled through her mind. Did most Djinn live in Qaf, or among humans like Jacinth? Could they have children with humans? What authority did this Council have over them?
She created another section: "Supernatural Beings" and typed the first entry: Djinn. The cursor blinked after that single entry. If Djinn existed, what other creatures might be real? She'd ask Jacinth - she seemed to share information more freely than Kieran did. The prince. Her mind still stumbled over that fact. A Djinn prince - PRINCE ! - in her living room, offering three wishes.
Right - the wishes.
Opting for a spreadsheet to enumerate the things she could potentially wish for, Mandy opened Excel and created a new spreadsheet, labeling the first tab "Wishes." Her fingers hovered over the keys as she considered the column headers. After a moment's thought, she typed:
Wish | Category | Priority | Pros | Cons | Questions
The familiar grid pattern of Excel felt reassuring, its neat columns promising order from chaos. She had so many spreadsheets, using them for everything from royalties to newsletter content to household inventory. Why should organizing potential wishes be any different?
Under "Category," she would use different options: Health, Financial, Career, Personal, Other. Each wish could be properly sorted and filtered this way. Priority would be simple: VH (Very High), High, Medium, Low. The other columns would allow for detailed analysis of each possibility.
She typed her first entry:
"Pain" | Health | Very High
Skipping the various other columns, she went straight to Questions, and typed, "Can wishes help? There wasn't even any point in thinking about this as an option if even Djinn magic couldn't help her back, after all.
Mandy added a new line to her spreadsheet:
"Book deal - major publisher" | Career
Her fingers paused over the keyboard as she considered the Pros column. Sure, a traditional publishing contract would mean professional editing, cover design, and marketing support. The validation of being "chosen" by a big publisher still held appeal, even after years of successful self-publishing.
But the Cons... She'd heard too many horror stories from fellow authors. Publishers dropping series mid-way, rights tied up for years, marketing support vanishing after the first few months if sales weren't astronomical. She typed quickly, "Do I even want this?" in Questions, then typed "Low" in the Priorities column.
"Bollywood adaptation" | Career
A smile tugged at her lips as she imagined her vampire romance transformed into a spectacular musical production. The dramatic story of a 16th-century Indian princess falling in love with a Romanian vampire would translate beautifully to Bollywood's aesthetic. The elaborate dance numbers, the costumes, the music... Oh, yeah, definitely High for the priority.
"Oprah" | Career | Very High
Now that would be a game-changer. Oprah's book club recommendations transformed unknown authors into overnight sensations. And unlike traditional publishing, a celebrity endorsement meant exposure without losing rights.
She sipped her iced tea, considering the ripple effects. An Oprah selection came with items for the Con column as well. A book's popularity at that level would mean interviews, probably television appearances. Her stomach clenched at the thought of public speaking. But for that level of success... She'd manage. Somehow.
Mandy's fingers paused over the keyboard as Mozart's face popped into her mind. Her sweet, affectionate boy who'd been a shelter rescue, along with his brother Bach. So many cats weren't as lucky as her boys.
She scrolled past the Financial and Personal categories she'd created. Those could wait. Under "Other," she typed:
"No-kill cat shelter" | Other
The cursor blinked at her as she considered the implications - and there would be tons of them. Her practical side kicked in, reminding her of the complexities involved in running a non-profit organization. But the thought of saving more cats like Mozart and Bach, giving them a chance at finding loving homes, made her heart squeeze. This was definitely going in the High column.
She left the Pros and Cons columns blank for now. This wish would need careful consideration - not just the immediate magical solution, but the long-term sustainability. The last thing she wanted was to create a shelter that would have to close down after a few years due to poor planning.
Her gaze drifted to the other empty categories on her spreadsheet. Financial and Personal wishes could wait for another time. Right now, her brain felt like it was reaching its limit for processing life-changing decisions.
Mandy saved her spreadsheet, giving it the whimsical name "Three Wishes and a Dream."
Exhaustion crept in, as the comforting ritual of structuring her ideas had calmed her racing thoughts to a dull roar. The wild tangle of potentials and possibilities now sat confined in tidy spreadsheet cells, waiting to be examined once her mind felt less overwhelmed.
She closed her laptop and slipped it back into her purse, then waved to catch Jenny's attention.
"Heading home?" Jenny approached with the check. "Get any good writing done?"
"Just research and plotting." Mandy pulled out her credit card. "But sometimes that's more important than actual writing."
Jenny ran her card and brought back the receipt. "Well, don't forget about us little people when you're famous."
Mandy chuckled as she signed the slip, adding her usual generous tip. Jenny had been keeping her company during late-night writing sessions for years. "As if I could forget my favorite source of hot fudge sundaes."
The bell chimed as she pushed open the door. The night air had cooled slightly, making the short walk to her car more pleasant. Her back protested as she lowered herself into the driver's seat, but the pain seemed distant now, manageable.
Mozart and Bach greeted her at the door with sleepy blinks, well accustomed to her late night forays. She filled their food bowls as an apology, then changed into her favorite soft pajamas.
"Night boys," she murmured as she climbed into bed.
Mozart curled up against her hip while Bach claimed his usual spot on the other pillow next to her own. Their steady purring, combined with the mental exhaustion of the last two days, pulled her quickly toward sleep.
Her last conscious thought was that maybe, just maybe, she'd figure out how to make her wishes count for something truly meaningful. Then sleep claimed her, deep and dreamless.