All Your Wishes Read Online Free Page B

unique and beautiful cloisonné creation, tiny jewels set with shining gold or silver wire to form unmistakable patterns on each individual jar. A large jewel sealed each vessel—precious rubies, diamonds, and sapphires, at least the size of my fist, being used as stoppers to keep über-powerful creatures trapped inside. The jewels were sealed in place with black wax delicately inscribed in runes, and while I knew I was looking at a projection, I would swear I could feel the power of their magic pounding at me hard enough to give me a blinding headache.
    The air in the room had that stale, canned quality that you get when a place is biosealed and the air is filtered and recycled repeatedly. The ambient light was gentle, but bright enough to see clearly, and, since I couldn’t see any source, I assumed it was magically generated.
    I looked carefully around the room, my stomach knotting in dread as I counted more and more jars. Then I saw what had brought Patel to my door.
    One jar was not where it was supposed to be. Two feet tall, patterned in smoky gray, dull red, and bright orange with brass, it lay on its side on the white tile floor, its seal broken, the stopper gem missing. I shuddered at the realization of just how big a problem that might be.
    â€œHis name is Hasan.” Rahim Patel pronounced the name in a tone fraught with … well, it sounds melodramatic, but “doom” was the word that sprang to mind.
    I didn’t answer or react, mainly because the name meant absolutely nothing to me.
    â€œHasan is one of the most ancient and powerful of the beings which my family guards. There are tales—” he stopped speaking and I heard him swallow hard before he resumed. “It is my duty to protect the world from the creatures contained in those urns. I have failed. Because the urn itself is still secure, there is … hope. I may be able to recapture him—to fix this. But I must live long enough to do so. If I die, my replacement will be my ten-year-old son. He is a good boy, but he has not learned all that he needs to serve as Guardian even of the jars contained in the vault. My family will help him, but he has nowhere near the knowledge and skill required to contain this disaster. I must recapture Hasan before the unthinkable happens.”
    â€œWhy do you think you can recapture him?” Dawna’s tone was businesslike. If the thought of dealing with the djinn spooked her, you certainly couldn’t tell.
    â€œI have the jar. They tried to steal it, but they were unable to get past the perimeter. They tried to destroy it—there is evidence of that farther along in the video. They were unable to do so. The worst they were able to manage was to free him. They took the jewel, which means that they have a bond with him, but they will not be able to control him. Not,” he added quickly, “that anyone has ever truly controlled a djinn. A djinn must grant the human’s wishes, but they always twist the granting to do the most possible harm to the person manipulating them—and that is the best of them, a genie. An ifrit of Hasan’s power…” Again, he stopped talking. I stared through the projection and saw Patel shudder.
    â€œWhy would Hasan kill you?” I asked.
    â€œThree reasons: First, because I am the Guardian; I am the only one with the knowledge and power to trap him, to seal him away again and render him helpless to do harm. He hates being imprisoned. Second, he hates me personally for being from the line of the man who originally ensnared him. He is an eternal being. His hatred is eternal as well.”
    â€œAnd the third reason?” I asked.
    â€œPower. Ifrits lose power during the term of their imprisonment. The stones which serve as a stopper on the jar drain them until, eventually, they are … neutered, for lack of a better term. If freed before that happens, they try to replenish their magic by draining it