“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. Unless he asks… I can’t really lie to him. But hopefully Luka would have no reason to ask. “I’m very grateful for your hospitality.” He bowed to them. “My name is Ifra, by the way.”
“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.
Ifra soaked in the warmth of the place, hoping he could store the feeling. When the stew was done, Etana brought it to the table. Sery settled into her chair, holding on her lap a doll made of cloth scraps and buttons. Keyelle poured hot water into a teapot, stirring up a memory of Hami’s coffeepot.
“You look sad, Ifra,” Etana said, sitting across from him.
“I’m fine.”
Etana smiled faintly. “That’s what I say when I’m not fine at all.” She hesitated. “If you don’t mind me asking… I know jinn aren’t supposed to age, but are you as young as you look?”
“We do age,” he replied. “And yes. I am as young as I look. We only age while we’re actively granting wishes. Our bodies might live a very long while, but we will only experience a normal life span.”
“In captivity?”
“Well, we hope to die free. If we’re lucky.”
“I don’t know much about jinn,” Keyelle said. “Do you have parents?”
“Of course.”
“And where do they live?”
“My mother is a servant in a wealthy man’s house.”
“Is she free?”
“No. The wealthy man is my father.” He didn’t talk about this much. “I wasn’t raised by her, of course. Free jinn always take in young jinn whose parents aren’t free. But she wrote me many letters.” He realized how strange this must all sound to a family like this, where children never had to be taken from their parents. “There are a lot of myths about jinn. It’s part of the magic-once people make wishes, they forget what they wished and how it worked. It would be chaos if people were too informed. Not that we’re capable of some of the great feats we’ve been credited with in tales either. We can only manipulate the world as it is. We can’t remake it.”
“But you can find the missing fairy prince?”
“I can, although he does have a confusing spirit. King Luka told me his spirit is trapped in a clockwork body, and I can pick up the trail of that spirit, but it’s weak.”
Etana looked alarmed. “Weak? Why?”
“I don’t really know. Maybe his tether on the world is weak. But then I sense a connection between him and King Luka. The king said it must be because he died there, and it wasn’t a proper death, but… it’s unusual.”
Keyelle sat straighter in her chair, almost rising. “That would certainly fit the suspicions of the other Green Hoods. There have always been rumors that the king did something to Erris-that he didn’t die properly.”
“Green Hoods?”
Keyelle motioned to a pair of green capes hanging by the door. “That’s what we call ourselves. Supporters of the Tanharrows.”
“I saw lots of people wearing green capes in the capital,” Ifra said. “Are they all Green Hoods?”
“No,” Keyelle said. “Most people own a green cape, but that doesn’t make them a Green Hood. Hundreds of years ago, in the troubled times in the old country when the human king’s men were after us, a group called the Green Hoods used to protect the people. We’ve taken cues from those stories, using ballads for code and such. We see a parallel with those times and now, only it’s our own king causing the trouble.”
Ifra glanced at the green capes once more, intrigued by the idea of rebellion. If only his people had such a concrete enemy to rebel against. At the same time, he thought of King Luka and felt a curious sense of pity for the man who looked so frail beneath his glamour.
“I can’t alert anyone of my mission,” Ifra said. “It’s part of the magic of the wish. I’ve been wiping the memories of everyone I pass. But I’m not going to wipe all of yours. You’ll remember me, even if you don’t remember exactly why I was here. I’ll see what I can do.”
Chapter 8
Weeks passed, and we settled comfortably into our new lives. I helped Celestina pick apples and turn the uglier ones into pies and jars of apple butter. Erris couldn’t bear the sweet comforting smell, but he was happier outside anyway, roaming the forest hour upon hour, or sitting with Violet on the lawn, telling her stories of the fairy kingdom. Sometimes I sat to listen, but mostly jealousy crawled up my spine within moments and I returned to my business. I knew I shouldn’t be jealous, and I lay awake at night trying to reason myself out of it but never quite managed.