would have the same magic, wouldn’t they?”
“But are our souls fairy or human or… just spirit?”
I laughed. “Too philosophical. I don’t know. But if you’re asking whether or not your magic will come back, I say it will.”
“You are an optimist,” he said. “I didn’t take you for one at first, but…”
“I would have had to be an optimist to have tried to free you in the first place, wouldn’t I?”
He smiled. “I think I feel the magic stirring in me again.”
“And we only arrived yesterday,” I said. “You have all winter to get it back.”
SOMEWHERE IN THE FAIRY KINGDOM
At first Ifra was timid as he traveled the fairy lands to find Erris. He peered in the windows of cottages at night, drawn by the warmth of hearth and life he could sense from miles away. He watched a mother nurse her baby, running her hand over the small head. He watched a father reading to his daughters. He saw a man sleeping by the faint glow of a banked fire, his arm slung affectionately over his dog.
Ifra had been raised by his tutor-a free jinn-along with five other jinn children whose parents were still enslaved. Free jinn always helped enslaved jinn, but his tutor was not affectionate. Like many free jinn, he believed the only way to truly find happiness was to maintain no worldly attachment to anyone or anything, and to prepare for a life of servitude. Ifra and the other children were sent many miles away during the growing season to work on neighboring farms, with no compensation besides food and shelter.
But the farmers Ifra boarded with were kind to him-so kind that he had to hide it from his tutor, or Ifra knew he wouldn’t be sent there again. Arkat and Hami had no children, and every year they looked forward to having him, treating him like a son. Hami told Ifra stories while her calloused hands ground seeds with her mortar and pestle. Arkat let Ifra name one of the horses and call it his own. He had learned to love and trust and miss them, just as he was
Ifra had never seen country like this-lush forest turning the colors of flame; lakes too wide to see across; deer and little striped rodents and sly-faced red foxes with slender black limbs. Ifra could feel the harmony of so much life packed together, and he longed to be a part of it and not just an observer, so he stopped peering in windows and began to knock on doors and ask for a place to sleep.
One late afternoon, he led his horse to a log house. A little girl sat in the doorway, shelling nuts, and he sensed two more inside. The girl called into the house as soon as she spotted him; a woman joined her, her dark red curls like a reflection of the autumn leaves all around them. Her mouth was set, her eyes staring, as she took in the sight of him and the horse. Luka had given Ifra one of the beautiful white fairy horses, so different from Ifra’s stocky brown horse back home. But any horse Ifra rode could go for days without food or water.
Ifra lifted his empty hands in greeting. “Good evening. I’m passing by on a mission for King Luka, and-”
“We have no room. There’s another house, down the road, three miles.”
Ifra wondered if she was a supporter of Erris Tanharrow. Everyone else had freely opened their doors when he mentioned the king.
He was honest with her. She wouldn’t remember him anyway. “Please. I’m a jinn. I’m merely a servant, not a supporter.”
“A jinn? King Luka has a jinn?”
“That would be me. Yes.”
“Come in,” the woman said, looking grim. He slid off the horse and patted its side.
The cabin had one room, warmed by a brick stove with a little opening like a mouth. Another woman, this one dark-haired and willowy, was slicing onions and tossing them into an iron pot, but she paused to look at Ifra with suspicion. The little girl went to her side wordlessly and left the shelled nuts on the table by the onions. Ifra looked around at the neatly made bed, the table and chairs, the kitchen tools, and the rafters painted with trees, birds, and snakes-not unlike the designs embroidered on the women’s bodices-and felt like an intruder.
The red-haired woman spoke into the ear of the dark-haired one.
“How did he manage to find a jinn?” the dark-haired one said. “His circle must be more loyal than we supposed-Sery, don’t touch those now, they’re for the stew.” The woman was cutting the shelled nuts in half as she spoke, staying the girl’s hand when she reached for a potato.
“Remember how he sent his sons off to bring him gifts?”
“Oh… do you think…?”
They spoke as if he were not even present, or as if he were not a person-the same way all people treated jinn, as he had quickly discovered with the handful of masters he had served thus far. A more experienced jinn would take no interest in the situation around him, would have no care for these women, or King Luka, or Erris Tanharrow. But Ifra hated to think he would become like that.
“You’re correct,” Ifra said. “The king’s son Belin found my lamp.”
The women turned their attention back to him, a little nervously. He supposed he must seem very foreign in their small cottage, with his gold cuffs and earrings, the woven sash belting his tunic and leather boots of home, the straight black hair that fell halfway down his back, caught with a leather tie.
“Can you tell me anything about King Luka?” Ifra asked. “And Erris Tanharrow? I must do the king’s bidding, but nevertheless there are things I can do to shape circumstances… if I understood them better.”
The women shared a glance, and the dark-haired one shrugged a little. “The Tanharrow family has ruled the fairy throne for centuries, through many wars with the humans. The city folk have always been different, with their glamours and feasts and fancy things, but they took care of us. If there was a long winter, we could go to the capital and ask for magic to help our patch of the forest survive, and if the humans came onto our territory, they’d send a patrol.”
The red-haired women nodded. “We’re supposed to trust our king. It’s said that as long as trees grow in the Hall of Oak and Ash, all is well. The wisdom of the trees is supposed to reflect upon our ruler. But…”
“I don’t understand what King Luka is trying to do with the humans,” the dark-haired one said. “After the last war, he gave the humans far too much leeway. Any fool could have told him they’d take advantage, and now he wants to go to war with them again. Disaster all around, and he brought it upon himself.”
“King Luka says there won’t be peace until he’s wiped the humans off the continent,” Ifra said.
“Or they destroy us!” the red-haired woman cried out. “That’s how it will go, if we pursue war!” The little girl’s eyes widened. Alarm crossed the woman’s flushed face. “I’ve said too much.”
“I’m not going to report any of this back to him,” Ifra said.
“Keyelle,” said the red-haired woman.
“I’m Etana. And this is my little one, Sery. Keyelle’s brother was my partner, but we had a dispute about this very thing. He supports King Luka.”
She frowned and turned to the shelf that held the kitchen implements, wooden bowls, and plates, and began setting the table. She looked cross, probably at herself, for speaking freely to someone she didn’t know.
“King Luka is ill, you know,” Ifra said.
“Ill?” Keyelle looked skeptical. “I haven’t heard.”
Ifra knew he shouldn’t speak freely with her either, but he wanted to gain her trust and as much information as he could. But more than that, he simply wanted someone to talk to. The isolation of a jinn’s life was hard to bear. He told them everything he had seen in the capital-the way Luka looked beneath his glamour, his sons, Luka’s coy answer about what he would do with Erris once he found him. The women listened, obviously rapt, but all the while they worked in silent harmony-cleaning, moving, arranging, stirring-preparing for dinner, answering a question Sery whispered in their ears.
