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Chapter 13

The Life of a Lady

~DOLLY~

The second our eyes connect, a dangerous feeling zings down my spine. A thing close to fear.

But it isn’t fear.

Arrik. He’s really here. In a modest black T-shirt, tattoos snaking up his neck and out from his sleeves, and jeans that slouch around his bare feet. The same chiseled cheeks. Those suggestive yet bored eyes. And pearly whites peeking through plush, parted lips.

Quite pretty for a bad boy with tattoos.

He’s staring.

And Vel’s staring.

Because I’m staring.

I don’t want Velis to feel this. I don’t want Arrik to feel this. Whatever is happening here, I’m only making it worse by acknowledging how complicated it feels to see him again—after being roomies for a week, having sexual encounters in our dreams, a painful untethering, and an equally painful goodbye.

And then whatever happened in the past that I don’t want to think about.

And now he’s here, possibly bonded to me. And Vel’s still tethered, inexplicably. Two brothers, one Dolly. Two hooks, one soul?

“Tip your head.” Arrik crouches beside me in the darkness, his bad-boy scent wrapping around me. “The collar,” he clarifies, voice quiet and composed. “If Velis uses magic to remove it, the natives might detect it.”

“Right.”

I hand the knife over into his coaxing fingers as he gently tilts my head, giving him access to the choker around my neck. He slips the blade into the thin space between my skin and the collar.

His eyes flick to mine for a brief moment. “Hello, Master.”

I try not to let my swallow brush against his knuckles as his fingers work beneath the collar. There’s a certain finesse to his touch, a certain control. Vel’s touch is still a bit clumsy, but Arrik’s is refined, like he’s trained himself to be gentle.

“It’s good to see you, Arrik.”

Not a lie, but this feels more like a breakup than ever. I can almost hear him holding back from asking, Is it?

Velis might be busy with his Ray, or maybe he’s just now noticing—glancing over his shoulder, sensing the guilt creeping through me. Arrik makes a quiet sound of amusement.

The worst thing about being tethered to these guys is that any perceived anxieties turn into reality the moment I think them.

I need to stop thinking.

“Well, we’re back to this,” Arrik says, offering no comfort as he drops the collar into my lap, then turns to Velis. “What’s the plan?”

Um . . . what was that supposed to mean?!

“ It means, ” Arrik’s voice echoes in my mind, “ that this is uncomfortable enough without you making it uncomfortable. ” He distracts himself, letting his gaze list over my nose and cheeks. “ You have a lot more freckles now, Master. You haven’t been wearing your sunscreen. ”

WHO IS THE ONE MAKING IT UNCOMFORTABLE?!

Velis, seemingly oblivious to Arrik’s telepathy, dismisses his Ray and conjures a duffel bag, casually tossing in some of my favorite clothes. Either the surrounding chaos is distracting him, or he’s deliberately tuning us out. “I’m going to speak with the prince’s council to file an official allegation of theft and attempted smuggling,” he says, “along with the detainment and coercion of another prey race.”

I catch his arm as he moves past me to pack my cleanser—because for the first time in my life, I have an actual skincare routine. “Does it have to be right now, Vel? We’ve been going nonstop all day. You should get some sleep.”

“It has to be now,” he says.

“Why?”

“Your vacation will be ruined,” Arrik guesses. “He needs an invitation to reach the palace. If he doesn’t go with those royals, it could take weeks.”

“Yeah,” Velis affirms. “I already alerted our senate clerk, but I need to go and confront them tonight, or who knows when I’ll get through to the prince’s council.” He hands off my duffle bag to Arrik. “Tomorrow, once we figure out where their government stands on this, and assuming we’re offered reparations, we can summon a djinn reader and figure out what’s going on with the rest of this. Arrik thinks the connection may actually lie between you and the vessel.”

Don’t love that.

“Plus,” Velis adds with less enthusiasm, “there’s a magical creature with an interest in the two of you. Maybe it will reveal whatever the fuck it wants if I give you a moment alone with it.”

Don’t love that .

Velis lets out a long sigh, his focus turning to me. “I’m not frustrated with you. But I am fucking over this. I just want a Maka-damned vacation without having to fight for our lives.” He shifts his attention to his brother, who’s been casually browsing our closet and pulling at random pieces of my clothing as if to see what they look, feel, and possibly smell like. “There’s a cabin not too far from here in the jungle, Arrik. I assume you have no objection to watching over her?”

Are we sure that’s a good idea? Without first figuring out how Arrik and I are now bonded?

“A cabin in the jungle?” Arrik studies me with those sphinxlike eyes before switching to telepathy. “ I really should just take you home to the manor. ”

My stomach drops. The thought of going back to that mansion is daunting after all the trauma I’ve faced there. Especially with the most evil brother still unaccounted for and the ‘three angry nymphs’ situation left unresolved. Not to mention the rest of the family—those with ink, tar, hypnosis, and dragon magic—who want all three of us dead. Honestly, I’d rather go back to the human world, but I know we won’t be safe there either. Vel’s right. It would be nice to stand our ground for once, to draw a line in the sand and declare that we’re done running.

They both seem captivated by my internal rant.

“Go ahead and tell her no, Arrik,” Velis says.

Arrik’s gaze shifts away from me. “Send me the coordinates, and then go file your complaint.”

“Hold on, there are, like, several angels and another five gorgons, and they’ve got weapons. They did mention they wouldn’t kill you, but they already beat up Arrik. What makes you think you can just walk out there?”

Arrik picks up the knife used to cut through my collar and tosses it like a throwing dart at Vel’s chest.

The knife makes a clinking sound and drops to the floor upon impact.

“I’m armored,” says Velis. “And I’m pissed.”

“He’ll be fine. These idiots are underestimating him. This isn’t another Amoira situation. Not the same caliber of enemy.”

“So why do I have to hide?” I ask.

“Because Velis is a caveman, and you are a distraction and liability.”

Ouch .

“ That does not mean you aren’t also of worth and capable. He’s incapable of thinking logically when it comes to you, ” Arrik mind-drops before switching to his outside voice. “Where’s my vessel?” He snaps to manifest it in his palm, then shrinks it between his fingers and tucks it into his pocket, just as Davii the kidnapper sounds off the one-minute warning, assuring me they’ll ‘start with a finger and try again’ to find the travel documents I’m supposed to be looking for.

Velis hands me the shrunken version of his vessel, and Arrik watches me tuck it into my pocket. “I’ll keep you both cloaked and invisible until I can deal with the prince. Try to get some sleep. I’ll meet you after.”

“Not so fast,” says Arrik. “These ones can’t locate us by magical means. How about let’s not go to the nearby cabin and instead go somewhere random and remote so they can’t reach us by morning? They can fly, so it needs to be distant. Is there not a fucking hotel? What year is it that we need to bunk in a cabin in the jungle ? Underground would be best for avoiding airborne enemies. Book us somewhere nice using Daddy’s money. Put it under the greenie’s name.” Arrik reaches behind his back, producing his Ray like a magician’s bouquet then tossing it at Velis. “Drop some funds into Dolly’s account while you’re at it.”

I wasn’t aware I had an account. Is that to get around his ‘no borrowing from the estate’ rule?

Velis thinks through everything Arrik’s just said, then responds something to the tatted-one telepathically I can’t hear.

How do I know? Because of the way Arrik just flicked his eyes to meet Vel’s before taking in a hearty glance of me. I’m guessing it was a threat. Maybe an earnest plea to behave.

After, Arrik is quiet.

And then he takes Vel’s shoulder, draws his brother close, and offers him discreet advice. “Ask Evaris for backup. Father uses him as his own demonic watchdog. You have that card now. Play it . If you prefer, you can task him with watching our lady, and I can go with you. ”

Velis takes it into consideration. “I’ll call Evaris to come help me, but you’re the only one I trust her with.”

Arrik exhales long. “Yeah, me too.”

I’m standing right here, and it’s awkward when they both act like extremely tall and extremely protective older brothers. But... really? The only other person Velis trusts in this whole world to play guardian to me is Arrik?

How drastically things have changed.

“Ready, Lady Reilhander?” Arrik barks over his shoulder like an impatient chauffeur.

I think he intends the title to distance us. I’m not sure it does. It makes my stomach feel peculiar to hear him address me like that.

I still don’t think this is a good idea. But maybe if we can get through this night, it would be argument for Arrik to stick around. Velis would trust Arrik even more. Their bond would deepen. Arrik and I could become inured to one another.

He’s fully and unabashedly reading me now.

They both are.

And Arrik is tipping his head with that stupidly smart brow raised in a way that makes me know he’s thinking, Inured?

I hate this.

Velis nods me aside like he forgot to give me instructions for watering his plants. “I know. Just a little longer. Until we know more, don’t make any wishes unless it’s absolutely necessary. And try to get some rest. Your fatigue bleeds into us too. We’ll visit Mayree in the morning.” His hand on my hip pulls me close. “And then Ardy. And then whoever is next on the list until we figure out what’s going on.” He kisses my forehead, and I wrap my arms around his neck, feeling vulnerable in the safety of his hold. It feels good to give in to his dominant energy every once in a while. He ends it with a long kiss that makes my chest ache because distance is unhealthily hard after all our recent trauma together. It winces even harder when I turn to Arrik and see the tatted brother is looking away .

I clear my throat. “I’m ready, Arrik.”

Each step he takes feels like it’s directly causing small quakes in the earth that ripple up my legs and to my chest. He sets a hand on my shoulder and does that thing where he looks down but doesn’t bother lowering his chin. “You aren’t going to ask if I came here voluntarily?”

I shake my head. I know he wouldn’t do that.

His fingers twitch—like he’s allowing himself this much of a hug—before he rips me away with him.

In the thick darkness, his presence mixes with mine. I have no stomach, and yet there’s a strange fluttering in the core of my soul because it feels like that’s all that’s left of us here and because I’m not sure what to say.

I should probably start with:

“How are you? Are you okay?”

. . .

“I’m alive. And you?”

. . .

“I’m all right. Managing.”

Why does it sound like we’re standing in an elevator together, awkwardly waiting for the tenth floor?

I swallow. “Did we share a dream the other night? Was that real?”

“You just confirmed it was. I had no idea what you were talking about at the time. It’s starting to make a little more sense now—” Arrik pulls me out of the way as a motorbike, spewing visible stars from its tailpipe, whizzes past in a world swirling back into place.

For a moment, I think we’re underwater, and I stand waiting for the water to part around us. But it never does.

Cool, misty air rushes past, and we’re in a cavern so vast it feels like the belly of a mountain. Giant walls of rock rise on all sides, with hundreds of people making their way through a winding network of tunnels—some on foot, others on stardust bikes leaving trails of glimmering light behind them. The ceiling is swallowed by darkness, way too high to see, and the only light comes from coral-colored...

Coral?

Bright orange-pink columns sprout from the rocky walls and pillars, casting a soft glow over everything. It’s like an underwater cave without the water. The starry motorbikes zip by, their lights bouncing off the gravel like scattered fireflies. We’re definitely not underwater, but it feels like we could be.

“What is this place?” I ask, still in Arrik’s arms. My conscience starts to protest.

It’s like slipping into a warm bath—familiar, comfortable, and yet, I’m breathing fast.

“It’s the lower world.” He purposefully removes himself from me. “Kilometers beneath Celestial ground. Difficult for winged men to reach. A good place for a diurnal like you to catch up on sleep.”

“Diurnal?”

“Rise with the sun, sleep with the dark?”

“Djinn don’t belong in that category too?” I ask.

His slippery eyes slide to mine. “Not technically.”

Neon-like signs—which are actually just words of light—hover in the air, guiding the way through a subterranean labyrinth. In the distance, a large collection of coral climbs up a wall, gathered around something bright. Most people are coming or going from one of the side tunnels to that place.

“That’s a commercial hub—shopping and entertainment district. There’s no lodging in the hubs. These lead to lodging.” Arrik motions toward the tunnels lining the thoroughfare. “I landed us some distance from ours in case that jump was tracked. It’s not much, but it’s something. Are you okay walking?”

This is, like, survival-mode Arrik.

And he forgets walking was how I got around before genies invaded my life.

“Some of us look at it like you invaded ours ,” he mutters, like it comes naturally, before stopping to think about what he’s just done and switching to his inside voice. “ And for the record, I’m not trying to listen in. Something’s changed. It’s unavoidable. You’re overflowing. ”

“Velis said the same thing.”

“Interesting. Would you prefer I wait for you to repeat shit out loud before I respond?”

“Seems kind of redundant.”

After all this is over, I’ll remind myself to ask him about that brain-wall formula Velis mentioned, but tonight, avoiding it feels easier. I don’t want to face the reality of what might come next, like theorizing why both brothers can hear me so well. My throat tightens every time I try to process what this could mean. I’m already overwhelmed, worried about Velis, and I can’t even allow myself to dwell on this thing with Arrik—when it feels like a betrayal of my commitment to Velis to even acknowledge it.

I don’t know what Velis was thinking, sending us off alone together—and to a place where it’s perpetually night? That makes no sense!

Before I can spiral further, a lanky palm lands on my head, like a basketball player dribbling me. “Chill out. It does make sense. He trusts no one right now but you, me, that leprechaun, and Bellamy. I’m the one nearest and best suited to protect you. I can’t go to the palace in Velis’s place. I’m not a laird. I have no pull. And all that aside—” He clenches my hair once roughly and playfully as if to solidify his ‘older brother’ status. “Did it occur to you that I don’t want to talk about it either? I’m fucking exhausted. I’m not here to steal you. Velis will survive the night against a band of na?ve teenage Celestials. And then we’ll figure out what’s happening with the malfunctioning bottle. I, for one, am eager to dissect it.”

He’s so straightforward, it pinches my heart.

He’s a good person.

His eyebrow lifts as if to say, Am I, Master? before his voice takes on a serious tone. “Are you good?”

“I’m good. That helps. Thank you. ”

My unofficial brother-in-law nods me after him in the direction of the city, framed by a bouquet of glowing coral in the distance. The wind whistles through the tunnels, carrying faint echoes of voices, footsteps, and the snappy roar of distant motorbikes.

“Is this the only ‘hub,’ or are there others down here?” I ask.

“There’s another back the other way.” Arrik swings a thumb over his shoulder. “And a third, straight through. They form a triangle, called the Arrowhead. The luciflor”—he reveals the name for the glowing coral—“gets denser and brighter the closer you are to one of the hubs. Guests use it to gauge distance should they get lost in the tunnels.”

“Is this a resort?”

“More like a tourist trap—specifically designed for guests who can’t tolerate daylight or moonlight. Many outside races profit outrageously from this realm, including djinn.”

Unlike Velis, he openly admits it. Adds to my developing theory that djinn might be kind of the bad guys in the fantasy-verse.

“Velis just doesn’t know better yet,” Arrik responds.

Arrik compares whatever he sees in his Ray to a nearby floating way-sign, its glowing symbols shifting in midair, before leading me into a mid-sized tunnel elevated above the larger ones used by the flying bikes below. A trio of people in hoods passes us, their faces hidden, footsteps hushed against the path. Most of the people I’ve seen down here seem to prefer keeping their features concealed.

“What sort of races can’t tolerate the sun or moon?” I whisper at Arrik.

His eyes slide to the trio of people closing in. “Vampires, for one.”

The moment he says it, a scent like a breeze through flowers sweeps up my nose, and it feels like I’m standing ankle-deep in daisies.

Arrik is still talking, but his voice is sounding farther and farther away. “...those afflicted with a moon curse, other random shit—” He snaps in my face to pull me out of the lure of the three vampires, whom I was just turning to follow. “But many djinn and Celestials also come down here because it’s kitschy,” he finishes, like my near entrapment was nothing.

I stick close to his hip from here on out to lower the risk of getting LOST in the TUNNEL LABYRINTH while wandering after the intoxicating scent of a VAMPIRE.

And I wouldn’t really say it’s kitschy down here. This whole place is like something created by futuristic mole people.

“Any word from Vel?” I ask because I can’t stop myself from blurting it the next time Arrik takes out his Ray. His eyes reflect the wizard-blue light.

“In terms of your adversaries, these ones are idiots. Evaris alerted the nearest embassy. Sounds like they’re sending people out. Everything’s going to be fine. Velis said he’d keep us posted.” He tucks the Ray behind his back. “This way.”

He branches us into a narrower tunnel roped off by a string of that holographic light all the signs are made of. Arrik moves right through, and I follow, and even though we’re invisible, and even though Vel’s cloaking us, it flashes twice, like it recognizes two people have just entered.

There’s a different color for each.

“Jinni, no wishes on grounds. Human, discard your guns.”

Arrik flicks his eyes, as if checking to see if anyone’s heard, surprised that Vel’s cloak didn’t cover us. “The problem with relying too much on one race’s magic system is it never quite accounts for the tech advancements of other worlds,” he grumbles, clearly annoyed by Vel’s lack of foresight.

Okay, but I’m still stuck on—

“I don’t even like guns. Why is that their go-to?”

And need I remind Arrik that Velis is turning twenty-three in a matter of days? Like he said himself, it’s a lack of experience, not intelligence.

I see him grow every day we’re together .

“Please don’t say any of that out loud,” Arrik says with great unenthusiasm. He leads me around the bend, and the vibe instantly shifts from warm-toned to cool. The luciflor here glows in shades of blue, indigo, and violet, different from the coral-like formations we saw earlier. Instead, mossy patches cover the rocks, hard like crystal and shimmering in blueberry tones. The tunnel narrows, and we pass by couples—and trios—hooded and sneaking through like they just slipped out of a neighbor’s window.

“Arrik, what kind of resort is this?”

“It’s not a resort. It’s a motel.” With the short handle of my duffle clutched in his fist and the bulk of the bag slung over his shoulder, he twists to assess me. “Is that okay with the lady of the manor?”

“As long as it has a clean bed.”

His eyes narrow. “You think I would take you somewhere with a dirty bed?”

“You think I wouldn’t sleep in a motel? I was broke most of my life. You were the one born with your own wing.”

“Technically, it was only a third of a wing.” His toothpick bounces cheekily. “And I’m not in need of a lecture. Why do you think I refuse to utilize the estate’s funds? Ask Velis about the ethics of how our family’s wealth was amassed.”

My unconscious bias with this one means I never expected him to care about how the ethics of the upper class’s wealth was earned.

“Good for you, Arrik. I never realized the reason. I just figured it was not wanting to be indebted to your father.”

“That too,” he says.

The tunnel feels like a long, surreal waiting room, with random pieces of furniture placed along its length. A miniature table and chairs here, a bench there. And everything has an aquatic twist. A novelty couch, designed to resemble a reef with a chesterfield-style backrest and button tufting, sits next to a modular seating unit shaped like a sea flower. In the next tunnel, there’s a bench that looks like an open shell beside a djinn-sized lava lamp—molten magic, according to Arrik, who assures me we stole the idea from them, not the other way around.

He was right about it being kitschy. It feels like we’re falling sideways through the rabbit hole, but with a hyper-literal retro-oceanic vibe. With all the glowing coral, I half expect a giant disco crab to come scuttling through.

“You are so fucking random,” my assigned attendant mutters under his breath, checking his Ray again as we reach a branch in the tunnel marked by more glowing signs. The colors seem meant to guide us. Arrik chooses the tunnel marked with a yellow sign, and at the next bend, the coral shifts to match, this species shaped like little flower buds. “Do you think I would take you somewhere giant crustaceans would come after you?” he furthers the game, shuffling me into a small indent and out of the way of someone coming the opposite way down an even narrower tunnel.

“Doesn’t matter, does it?” I whisper. “Vel picked it out.”

And it’s kind of unexpected. This place is a vibe.

Arrik does that little bitchy eye roll, which he shares with Jeb, over the fact that his youngest brother is a lot cooler than he gives him credit for. He turns us down a skinny corridor and into a pocket where there’s what I assume is a vending machine shaped like a jukebox in a little waiting room off the walkway. It’s an actual cave, with a seashell chandelier, across from a cutout in the wall where a lavender-skinned girl tends a check-in counter with brochures.

Arrik leaves me to my own devices, bidding, “Browse the consumables. I need to conserve magic.” And because I’m staring at him like I don’t know what to do with such alien-looking technology, he adds, “Pick out some snacks, Master.”

The last part he says with a hint of valley girl.

I assume this road-trip buddy act is to put me at ease.

The lavender-skinned receptionist jumps, probably because Arrik is visible to the world again. He grabs a sucker from a glass bowl on the wavy emerald countertop, tosses the wrapper into the void over his shoulder, and leans in with an energy that says he’d be down for casual sex—and that, while it would leave a lasting impression on her, it would do little to change his day.

Classic Arrik posture. I wouldn’t be surprised if she gave us the room for free.

I distract my invisible self with the golden jukebox. The packaging through the bubble-like glass is unrecognizable. There are multiple languages listed on the menu, none of them mine. I see something that could be a baked potato in a bag. Or possibly a hamburger bun.

The bottom row is unmistakably condoms.

I step aside as a giggling djinn couple browses that row.

What’s with all the couples?

The underground tunnels.

The perpetual night.

Arrik’s reflection appears in the glass behind me, making the hairs on my neck stand on end. I spin to face him. “Arrik, tell me Velis did not send us to an underground sea-themed love motel!” I hiss.

“I actually didn’t look at his suggestion. This is both random and remote.” Unfazed by my own habitual randomness, he flicks his wrist, revealing a small purple disc of light between two fingers, which he passes off to me. “That’s to get into the room. And before you ask, yes, I already sent our new coordinates to your boyfriend. He’s going to keep us informed. He told me to tell you not to worry. I told him not to waste his breath.”

His deadass eyes judge me in that ‘you transparent human’ way, still touting my duffle like the lady’s hired bodyguard.

“You do realize I can’t read any of this, right?” I gesture toward the array of snacks. “What is this, cotton candy?”

“Webbed from intelligent spiders,” he says.

Absolutely never, thanks.

With an octopus painted over his knuckles and tentacles spread down his fingers, Arrik slides a fingertip down the list of entries, stopping next to a safer one. “This is a bread-like pocket with jammed fruit inside. It should agree with your palate.”

“Like a . . . toaster pastry?”

He stares at me a long moment—maybe re-registering that I’m a human girl and not really a djinn lady—before brushing his room-key disc against the side of the machine and dragging a palm down the front of all button options, illuminating one of each. The first foil package falls to an opening on the bottom. He tosses it at me, and I tuck it into the pocket of my hoodie.

He stands with his arm resting on the machine, waiting for the rest of it to drop.

When Velis came out of his vessel that first time, he was starving and made me take him to the local ‘tavern’ for scotch.

“Don’t you want real food, Arrik? You must be hungry.”

“That would involve interacting with more people than is necessary,” he says.

“Does delivery exist here? We could order a pizza or something. Have them leave it outside the door?”

Eyes set on mine, I’m not sure what he’s thinking. He wears the same intrigued yet hesitant look as usual before deciding, “We’ll order pizza too. Daddy’s money.”

In this case, I think he’s referring to his daddy.

As opposed to himself.

He crouches to collect the packaged items, stashing one of each into my sagging middle pocket until it’s bulging obnoxiously—the only reason his chivalry’s allowing me to carry it all, I suspect.

“Tch. Do you expect me to do all the work? I already have your bag.”

He snaps, and the knock-off Pop-Tart is halfway unwrapped and in his mouth.

“There. I lightened it for you. Room is this way.”

I follow behind Arrik like a duckling through the maze of branching tunnels scattered with random furniture. Not a lot has changed on his body from the last time I saw him, likely due to his aforementioned need to conserve magic because of the not aforementioned whatever happened between us that night on the balcony that caused him to be broke.

It must be dire if he’s letting Velis— slash Daddy, slash the estate—foot the bill.

Shit. I don’t want to think about that night or the minutes I can’t remember. And I especially don’t want to think about it without Velis here.

A half-eaten tart sleeved in plastic hits me in the chest. There’s knowing in Arrik’s glance. I look away and take a bite of the breakfast pastry he’s just passed off for me to try, discovering, “It is a Pop-Tart. A haloberry-flavored Pop-Tart.”

“I’d say you stole those from us too, but I know you’d just mock me for it,” says Arrik.

“Likely.”

With a warming glance, he leads me down a passage that ends in a cul-de-sac with five doors spaced far apart, each adorned with a brass knob and flanked by statues of aquatic ferns. I can’t be sure, but is there water running somewhere around us?

Arrik takes me to the center door and hands off my overnight bag. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

“What, you plan to sleep in the hallway?”

“Obviously.”

“Why?”

“Do you really want to debate whether you and I should share a motel room right now?”

A twinge hits as he acknowledges the tension we’re both actively burying. “We lived together. I slept in plenty of times while you were mulling around the room. And besides, that’s not what I meant.”

We all know what happened the last time I shared a hotel room with a genie. But I also know how uncomfortable their sleeping arrangements are when entrapped in their vessels.

“Go get yourself a room, Arrik. See if the one next door is available. ”

“That’s too far away,” he says, leaning back against the wall between my door and the neighbor’s.

Mother-hen Arrik.

“We’re going to need your brain tomorrow to figure out what’s going on with that vessel, Arrik, and you haven’t slept in a bed in days. What if you take the room, and I sleep inside your bottle? It’s Vel’s old vessel. I’ve been in there before. And that would probably make you feel more secure anyway, right?”

There’s that look again—surprised yet suspicious. But my logic is sound enough that he doesn’t refute it, and after a moment of consideration—

“Are you sure?”

Real beds are appetizing to wish-granters on the road. And me, safely tucked inside a bottle for the night, is appetizing to overprotective djinn compelled to protect me.

“You need it more than I do. I’ve been on vacation all week.” I grab the golden doorknob. “I’m going to shower before anything else. I just need to zone out in there for a bit. Order yourself some food. Get me a pop equivalent. I’m guessing they don’t really have pizza?”

“You’d be surprised.”

I wasn’t imagining it—the happy splash of a waterfall overtakes us the moment the door opens.

And I am surprised, long before I even see whatever pizza he’s thinking of.