Your Wish Is His Command Read Online Free

Your Wish Is His Command
Book: Your Wish Is His Command Read Online Free
Author: Judi Fennell
Tags: Paranormal, Magic, series, Short-Story, djinn, Genies, Prequel, Genie, judi fennell, bottled magic, djinni
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weakness in our
cuff system and caused a task force to be created to deal with the
issue. And now you will serve more masters than most djinn ever
will. A win/win for everyone.”
    Everyone , Kal thought as he was being
smoked into his newest prison, but him .

 
    The Beginning…of the End
     
    Kal’s lantern
    656,624 days later
     
    “ Nine hundred ninety-seven. Nine
hundred ninety-eight. Come on, Kal! You can do it!”
    If Kal weren’t already in enough trouble with
the Djinn High Master, he’d wish laryngitis on his four-legged,
court-appointed watch dog—er, fox—just so he wouldn’t have to hear that number.
    Unfortunately, that same High Master that had
handed down this prison sentence for attempting to leave The
Service had also banned him from fulfilling his own wishes, so hear
it he would.
    “ Just three more, Kal. Let’s go!”
The euphemistically titled “magical assistance assistant” waved his
bushy tail like a pom-pom.
    Nice of Dirham to include himself in the let’s part, but the fennec fox was thoroughly enjoying
himself bouncing on the mini-trampoline in the spout end of Kal’s
lantern, while Kal’s arms shook with the effort it took to force
his body upward one more time. Or maybe it was the energy he
repressed so he wouldn’t hurt Dirham’s feelings. Gods knew, not
being able to use his magic had built up a lot of repressed
energy.
    “ That’s it, buddy. Two more. You
can do it!”
    Kal rested his forehead on the cool polished
floor of his lantern for a second, then worked into push-up number
one thousand.
    Dirham went wild, doing back flips that would
make any cheerleader weep with envy. “One more! You’re almost
there!”
    That sentiment was the guiding premise of
Kal’s life at the moment.
    Grunting through the pain, he finished off the
last push-up and got to his feet, twisted the pewter cuffs on his
wrists the High Master had “gifted” him with back into place, then
wiped the sweat off his face with a gym towel.
    One thousand and one sit-ups done, one
thousand and one push-ups. He should probably go for the pull-ups,
but the stress of sitting here day after day, not knowing why
Monty, his current master, hadn’t summoned him in the last six
months was getting to him, both with worry and
anticipation.
    One thousand and one.
    That number followed him everywhere. Sit ups,
push-ups, pull-ups… And masters.
    He was on number one thousand. So close to the
end, he could taste it.
    Or smell it actually. Was that fesenjān ?
    Kal walked around the exercise equipment and
sniffed through the lantern’s spout. It was fesenjān .
What was his master doing not sharing it? Monty might keep the
lantern—and therefore Kal—locked in a safe in his office when he
wasn’t around, but they often had dinner together in that office,
with Kal doing the cooking, of course. Well, conjuring. One of
Monty’s favorites was fesenjān .
    And it was one more reason to
worry.
    Dirham hopped into the tunnel of the lantern
spout, his paws sliding on the smooth copper finish. “Now for the
pull-ups.”
    Kal picked him up and set him on the sit-up
bench on the Bowflex. “Not today, Dirt.”
    “ Hey, I’m not dirty. I just took a
bath.”
    Dirham might be a helpful little thing, but he
had a major deficit in the sense of humor department. Everything
was always so literal with him.
    Take the time Kal had said he was so hungry he
could eat a camel. He’d had to spend hours cleaning up the floor
from the camel’s, er, “presents” until Dirham had shown up and led
the animal out through the magic portal in the handle.
    This no-magic-for-personal-use thing
sucked.
    “ You’re right, Dir. And your fur
looks great. Any special reason?” The fennec was in love with a
vixen named Lexy—hopelessly so because Dirham thought she was way
out of his league. Given that Lexy was the head of the thinktank
headquartered in the magical outpost of Madeenat Al-saqf
Al-zojaajey , otherwise known as Izaaz , Dir might
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