Chapter 14
Caspar woke to flashing lights in his eyes. He lurched forward, but was caught by two hands that held him down. Blond hair and blue eyes, framed over a sharp jawline and nose, came into focus next.
“Hey there. How are you doing?”
“Katja?” Caspar propped himself up on his elbows and then cupped a hand over his forehead to block the sun.
The woman in front of him smiled, confirming that it was Katja.
She crouched next to him, dressed in a black skirt with a professional white blouse.
She held a flashlight in her hand that she used to examine Caspar’s pupils.
A necklace with an eye carved onto stone hung on a silver chain between her small breasts.
Her discarded heels were next to her briefcase, which was open and contained some archaic-looking medical equipment.
“Yeah, it’s me. How are you feeling?”
“Um. Good. Except I’m wondering why every time I get sick, you’re around.”
“Oh, how I missed your skepticism. I like it. Always good to be skeptical. Never change, Caspar.”
“Wasn’t planning on it anytime soon, though I would kill for some gum right now.”
“Ah. That I have.” Katja reached into her blazer pocket and pulled out some spearmint gum.
As Caspar slipped it into his mouth, Katja rose and straightened her outfit, sliding on her shoes.
Caspar sat up and realized he was covered in brown dust. He batted it off his jeans and it swarmed in the air.
“Am I… at a baseball diamond? The baseball diamond?”
Katja nodded. “Malek said this place was probably safe. He carried you here after… you know.”
“Huh.” Caspar caught a glimpse of Malek’s massive frame in the distance.
He faced the subway station, clearly on guard.
He seemed to hunch his back, as if ready to pounce, each time a new person stepped close to the crosswalk.
The slide and the swings acted as a good enough cover, but the baseball diamond itself was open and highly visible.
If enough people wanted to find them, they could.
But no one else seemed to be around.
“I’ve also cast a protection spell,” Katja added as she snapped her briefcase shut. Caspar noticed some occult writing on the edges and handle, something he’d mistaken for equations moments ago.
“Spells? Are you…?”
“I’m a necromancer.”
“I don’t know what that means. Other than, you know, from B-movie horror films.”
“Are you thinking of a re-animator? From that terrible film from the 1980s where a disembodied head gives head?”
“You know what? That’s exactly what I’m thinking of.
” Caspar laughed as he remembered the garish cover of the VHS he’d found at Anthony’s place.
Anthony’s family always had all the popular—and sometimes not-so-popular—choices on their shelves.
Caspar and Anthony had stayed up late one night to watch that abominable film, only to make out later on.
“A necromancer is someone who talks with the dead. I use magic to do this, which is why I know some spells.”
“Should I be worried that you’re the person they sent me to? Does this mean I’m dead?”
“You’re not dead. You gave Malek quite a scare, though.”
“I’m sorry.” The crowded house, the feeling of Natasha’s eyes on the back of his neck, along with the few seconds of pavement rushing toward his face came back to Caspar like a punch. He touched his jaw and felt no pain. Nothing at all. “Have you given me drugs? Or a spell?”
“A cream for your wounds that has some spell craft properties, yes. The pain will probably come back in a little while.”
“So what happened? What’s wrong with me?”
“My first guess was sunstroke. It’s been a while since you’ve been outside.”
“And what’s your second guess?”
Katja’s smile was tight. She glanced at Malek, who seemed to be talking to someone now.
Is that… Natasha? The long braid at the back of her neck gave her away.
She gestured wildly with her hands before passing a few items to Malek.
One of the items seemed to be his baseball hat, which Caspar was actually grateful to have back.
The other looked like a giant box. Malek didn’t open it or move until Natasha disappeared again.
After looking inside the box, he stood completely still.
“My second guess…” Katja said, gathering Caspar’s attention again. “My second guess is that something at that house made you react badly.”
“Like grief?”
“Mourning can tip into melancholia and manifest as physical symptoms. Freud studied it years ago, and yes, people have tossed out Freud’s theories in terms of psychology, but no one ever stopped to think he was talking about the supernatural population.
” Katja rolled her eyes as if this was obvious.
“In terms of supernatural psychology, the man was a pioneer. But anyway… Tell me this: Before you passed out, did you smell ammonia again?”
“Yes. I did.” Caspar rose to his feet, desperate to hear more. He coughed as he inhaled more dust, and Katja touched his back.
“Are your lungs burned from it?”
“No, it’s just the dust. What does the ammonia mean? I forgot about it until the past two days—Malek asked me about that night, and it all came rushing back. Is it something important? What does Chaz say? And weren’t you on assignment with him? What brought you back?”
Katja laughed, though it was uneasy, like her smiles. “That’s a lot of questions. Give us time, and Chaz will be here, and we can brainstorm all these answers together. How does that sound?”
“I don’t think I have time. What if I’m dying?
” Caspar let out a low, cynical laugh. That would be rich, right?
Get freed from prison then get cancer the next day.
What if they found something in my eye and didn’t tell me?
What if it was all just a compassionate release?
Caspar went to kick the dirt, only to stir up more dust.
Katja coughed and spluttered, trying to clean the dust from her jacket. By the time it settled, Malek was closer. He was running, Caspar was sure of it. He held out the box to Katja when he got there.
“The tour guide just gave me this. Said it was under the damn floorboards of the house. You won’t fucking believe this.”
As Malek opened the box, Katja gasped. Caspar’s vision went blurry again.
He tried to focus, but his stomach warbled as if he was spinning in place.
Something shimmered in front of him. A gasp caught in his throat when he was sure—so sure—it was the same kind of shimmering that he’d seen in his parents’ house the night they died.
He blinked several times before a set of jewels came into focus.
Four jewels in total, small ones, barely the size of a quarter, and all in different colours.
The first was blue, then green, red, and pale pink.
They barely took up a fraction of the box they were held inside.
The rest of it was filled with Middle Eastern silks, the kind Caspar remembered his father keeping rolls and rolls of in his study that he got in special shipments from Lebanon.
Everyone stared at the jewels, then back at Caspar, as if they’d discovered something treacherous—not possibly a couple grand worth of rare diamonds.
“What is it?” Caspar asked. “I don’t understand. Isn’t this good news? The tour guide found my inheritance, right? Everything else was taken in legal fees.”
“Inheritance is one way to put this, yes,” Katja said. “How much do you know about these jewels?”
“Nothing, but what is there to understand? Why do you both look so—”
“Do you know what this means?” Malek asked.
Caspar shook his head. Katja and Malek exchanged another solemn look.
“What? What’s going on? I demand—”
“You’re a djinn, Caspar. These items prove it.”
“What?” Caspar wanted to laugh, but when their faces remained grave, he ceased his guffaws. Touching the edge of the box made him feel faint, but he pushed forward. As soon as he caressed the glittering blue stone, the voice came back into his head again.
You need to make a decision. You or me?
Without an answer, all Caspar could do was fall to the ground yet again.