He broke off at the sound of the alley door opening, and a commotion of quick footsteps. From around the central column the Jinni appeared, along with the Golem, and—
“What on earth?” Anna murmured, staring at the naked woman in the Jinni’s arms. She looked to Toby, wondering if she ought to make him close his eyes—but he was already at the Jinni’s side, peering at the woman as though he knew her. “What happened?” said Toby. “Will she be okay?”
“I don’t know,” the Jinni muttered.
Carefully he placed the jinniyeh atop the burning coals. She lay there unmoving, surrounded by flames, a fairy-princess in her enchanted bower. Maryam crossed herself at the sight.
Behind them all, the Golem had stopped in the middle of the room, and now stared up at the Amherst in amazement. She turned to look for its creator—and saw him at the forge, surrounded by the others, all watching the woman on the coals. She hesitated, then walked to the other side of the forge and stood there, alone.
Something in her pained expression made Anna soften. It was the face of every Waverly Laundry girl who’d watched a former suitor stroll past the window with his new love, and who now had to work among her peers as though nothing had happened. Anna caught the Golem’s eye, then looked to the Jinni, whose own face was dark with worry. The Golem nodded slightly. Anna sighed, and shook her head in disbelief.
Yossele, too, had noticed Miss Levy’s sadness, and how she stood far away from the others. Kreindel, next to him, squeezed his hand. It’s all right, she told him. You can go to her.
He looked down at her upturned face, and then let go of her hand and went to where Miss Levy stood. She glanced up at his approach—
Just as, in the coals, the jinniyeh stirred.
Slowly the world came into focus. She was in human form, lying atop a fire. An ominous steel moon floated above her. The Amherst, she realized, and shuddered. She’d fought the automaton, had nearly torn herself apart in the process, but then—
Sophia. Had the woman survived?
I’m still here, Dima, came the answer, weak but clear.
The jinniyeh sat up in the coals. A host of faces stared back at her. Her lover was among them, his expression wary but hopeful. The rest were humans, young and old. Dimly she recognized one as the boy from the hotel room, standing beside a girl of similar age. But where was the automaton? The jinniyeh wouldn’t be comfortable until she knew . . .
Suddenly her lover said, “Wait. Don’t turn around. You should know, there’s someone—”
The jinniyeh turned around—and shrieked.
My God, Sophia cried in her mind, what is that?
The monster was gigantic, hideous, a demon risen from the depths of every terrifying story she’d ever heard. The jinniyeh scrabbled backwards in fright, then loosed her form and flew toward her lover, who stood with the children—
And Yossele roared.
It was an eruption, an avalanche of sound, as though years of fury had come unstuck from his throat all at once. The others scattered in fright as he strode toward them, his face dark with anger, his gaze fixed upon the glowing veil of flame that had come so dangerously close to his master.
The jinniyeh fled backward, towards the central column and its staircase. Yossele followed her, fists swinging.
“Yossele, wait!” Miss Levy cried behind him. “She’s a jinniyeh, she’s like Ahmad!”
But even with the faculties Miss Levy had given him, Yossele had no way to comprehend this. The fire was alive, it floated through the air; he could see it, but his master couldn’t. It could only be a menace.
“Kreindel!” the Jinni shouted. “Stop him! You can’t see her, but he can!”
“Yossele!” Kreindel cried. “Whatever it is, stop!”
It was no use. The jinniyeh had retreated between two of the steel platforms; he lunged toward her, landing a blow upon the lower one and denting it deeply. He grabbed its edge and pulled himself up, following her—and the stem that connected the platform to the column bent at once beneath his weight. He slid, recovered, ran up the now-tilting surface, and hurled himself at the jinniyeh.
His fist passed through her. Unbalanced, he crashed through the staircase and struck the central column with his shoulder.
There was a sound like the tolling of an enormous bell. The Amherst roof shook. Dust floated down from the arches.
“Get everybody out!” the Jinni shouted to Maryam.
Kreindel was on the floor, sobbing, her face in her hands. Toby ran to her, but Sayeed was quicker; he lifted the girl into his arms and sped toward the alley door, Maryam and Toby and Anna behind him.
The jinniyeh flew upward, out of Yossele’s reach. Yossele followed, hauling himself up the broken staircase and jumping onto the next platform, which bent just as its sibling had, like a flower with a broken stem.
The Jinni watched, his mind racing.
It isn’t strong enough, he thought. It can’t withstand the weight. I never accounted for the weight of others, of people. Of anything that wasn’t itself. That’s what was missing.
He looked up at the beautiful secret he’d built, and remembered the neighbors, ready to come knocking. The children, who’d surely love to play upon such a creation.
He ran to the alley door, where Maryam was quickly ushering the others out. “Maryam,” he said, “the Amherst—it’s dangerous, and I never realized. It has to come down. Can you keep everyone away?”
Her eyes went wide with fright, but then she nodded. “Yes. Of course.”
He shut the door behind them, ran back. The Golem was desperately calling for Yossele to stop, and for a moment his head turned toward her, as though he might listen . . .
But by now the jinniyeh’s terror had subsided. The monster was powerful, but he couldn’t hurt her, so long as she remained formless. She looked to her lover, and the creatures he’d aligned
