Chapter 35
The next day, after everyone slept in and ate a late breakfast in the hotel, Malek and Caspar went off to visit Erwin Abernathy, the medieval scholar studying djinn culture, and the four others went in search of nice clothing for the gala.
“We’ll get our stuff soon,” Malek promised Caspar as they walked down the multicoloured cobblestone street into the heart of the city.
“I’m not too worried.”
“Yeah?” Malek had to fight the urge to squeeze Caspar’s hand.
Then, realizing that they were in the middle of a busy city and no one was paying attention to them, did so anyway.
Caspar squeezed back, and Malek shuddered at how much he’d missed the one-on-one time with him.
They were sharing a room with William, and everyone had been so exhausted from the night before that Caspar and Malek had barely kissed before falling asleep.
“I think I’m just feeling lucky after that win against Ultima,” Caspar said. “Even if it didn’t exactly go as planned, it still made me really happy. It’s been ages since I’ve gotten to do that, you know? Let’s hope my winning streak continues.”
“Indeed. But I have a couple surprises for you. Only one of them is Erwin.”
“And the other?”
The two of them came to a stop at a crosswalk. Malek tucked a hand behind Caspar’s neck and pulled him close for a kiss. French music started up when the crosswalk changed and it was their turn to walk.
“Wait,” Caspar said, trailing behind Malek’s massive steps. “Was that the second surprise, or are you a tease?”
Malek only grinned. Caspar sighed, but linked their arms together until they reached the red-brick archeology building in the middle of a campus that seemed to be plucked from a science fiction film.
The archeology and history wings were the only ones made of brick, and had real books on the shelves.
Malek knocked once on an office door tucked away into a corner, down a hall that seemed as if it should have been lit with torches, not fluorescent bulbs.
He had to knock again before the small footsteps of Erwin sounded from the other side.
“Hello? Oh, Malek! You must give me more warning before you show up like this and bring more of your giant friends. I’m simply not prepared during my office hours.”
Without waiting for a hello, Erwin turned back into his office and climbed up onto one of his “high chairs.” Erwin’s round elvin face brightened when he no longer had to crane his neck, but could see eye to eye with his guests.
Caspar tilted his head to the side as he seemed to assess the office’s miniature furniture designed for Erwin while he worked, and then the normal-sized chairs and tables meant for students and other visitors.
“Erwin, this is my… um…” Malek stuttered when it came to the introductions. “Caspar.”
“My Caspar, huh? So he’s your treasure?”
Malek coughed. He’d been trying to avoid terms of endearment, and Erwin came right out with them.
“Not quite,” Caspar said. “But I think we’re boyfriends.”
“Ah, that makes sense,” Erwin said. “‘Caspar’ translates to ‘treasure’ in Arabic, though, so it goes well with your king over there.”
“That’s actually what we wanted to talk to you about, Erwin,” Malek said, changing the topic as fast as he could. He and Caspar took their seats across from Erwin. “I’m in town because I found my crown. It’s here.”
“That’s marvellous!” Erwin clapped his hands. “What’s the next step after that? Do you need an incantation? A spell bag?”
“I’m still thinking,” Malek said. “But I was wondering if you had any updates on Odafin. The Jallo family—oh, and Caspar’s El-Mohtar family, too.”
“The El-Mohtars, huh?” Erwin scratched his head through his ruddy curls. “Haven’t heard that name in a while.”
“But you have heard of it?” Caspar asked, sliding to the edge of his seat. “There’s history there?”
“Always history in a family. Excuse me for a moment. I’m going to need to climb a ladder to get to my bookshelf.”
Malek wanted to reach out and help Erwin with his task, but he’d learned from Ultima in the past twelve hours (was it really so short?) that it was best to lean back and only help when asked.
Erwin was quiet as he riffled through some tomes as large as him.
He made tut-tut noises as he pushed his glasses down his nose, and then pushed them back up as he went in search of another book.
“Ah,” he said after five minutes. “The El-Mohtar patriarch was Qasim the last time I interviewed a djinn from a found object.”
“Was?” Malek asked. “As in not anymore?”
“I don’t believe so.”
“And you haven’t heard any updates?” Malek asked.
“Not in years.”
“That’s not right.”
“Why not?” Caspar asked. “My parents were gone for decades, so isn’t it easy to disappear if you do it well?”
“Your parents didn’t disappear, though. They defected.
They still had objects and legacy, but chose to ignore it,” Malek said.
He took a few moments to bring Erwin up to date on Caspar’s situation, which seemed to please Erwin significantly.
After a few questions about the family Caspar had known of, Erwin soon withdrew a sheet of paper.
“What’s this?”
“Your family tree. I didn’t think I could complete it. But those names now fit the last accounts I had. It’s spotty in places,” Erwin warned. “Especially around the marriages and daughters, since they move into new families and complicate the history, but it’s what I have.”
Caspar nodded along, but his eyes were only on the sheet of paper. Malek’s heart warmed, knowing he’d done something good. This had been all Caspar had wanted that first day they were together.
“This is going to sound silly,” Caspar said after a moment of examination.
“No questions are silly in the pursuit of knowledge. What do you need?”
“Are… did my family ever fly?”
“Flying, huh? I haven’t heard those stories in a while,” Erwin said.
“So we can fly?”
“Some djinns can. Since you’re all associated with the element air—hence why you can become incorporeal—sometimes that power translates into flying. Ages ago, all the patriarchs flew in order to keep track of their families and their businesses.”
“Businesses?” Caspar made a face. “I’ve never heard it referred to as that before.”
“What else would it be?” Erwin asked, and then proceeded to answer his own quandary. “The patriarchs keep powerful items so they can keep serving others. It’s a business arrangement, built on survival after coming to a new country. But it was never built to last.”
“The flying or the business?” Caspar asked.
“Both, really. Not many djinns fly now. I suppose it’s skipped generations, or maybe it was only something the older ones did. Either way, I’ve never met a djinn who flew. If you come across one, though, I’d love to interview them.” Erwin’s small green eyes flashed with excitement.
“What did you mean before,” Malek asked moments later, “when you said there hasn’t been any El-Mohtar activity?”
“No interview subjects. They’ve all moved or they’ve all gone underground.”
“To the Summerland?”
“It’s possible. Or they’ve died, like Caspar’s parents. My condolences, by the way.”
Caspar glanced up from the paper he’d gone back to studying. “Most of my family is dead?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. But I come across a lot of djinns in my work in archeology and preservation. I’m not a scavenger. I’m a collector—but I’m dedicated to preservation above all. When I find a djinn, all I ask for is an interview, and then I let them go. I always let them go.”
“But that doesn’t really matter, does it?” Caspar folded the piece of paper and put it in his jacket pocket. Erwin didn’t ask for it back, and Malek was relieved.
“What do you mean?”
“You can’t let a djinn go. They’re always bound to someone and something—especially family. Right, Malek?”
Malek nodded along. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Odafin…?”
“Odafin is still alive and well, yes,” Erwin said. “But I’m still not sure what you both are getting at. I see djinns go back to civilian life all the time.”
“But don’t they need families? Patriarchs?” Caspar asked. “I thought djinns couldn’t be alone.”
“They’re not. They find someone they love. They pledge to them.”
“And do they still grant wishes?”
“Not always, but it happens. You know, when your loved one needs something and you can make it happen, you do it. No question.” Erwin smiled.
Malek noted a newly framed photograph of Erwin sitting in someone’s lap, an array of flowers around them.
As much as Malek wanted to ask about Erwin’s new bride, they had limited time and far too many jobs to do.
“But that means keeping their magic. Wouldn’t the patriarch find the items? That’s how…”
“That’s how Odafin caught you, yes,” Erwin said. “But Odafin can’t do that anymore.”
“What do you mean?” Malek asked, his voice hitched. “I’m looking for my crown right now, but I’m terrified it’s owned by a scavenger and they’re working for Odafin.”
“It’s always possible. But it’s likely that the scavenger is working for himself, hoping to get a djinn his own way. You’ve lived on your own long enough now without the family’s help, so you don’t have to go back and you can still keep your magic. It’s the freedom shield.”
“The what?”
“Oh God,” Caspar said. He closed his eyes, pinching them tight like he was trying to drag out a memory from deep inside. “The Illustrated Man? Is he part of this? Did he fly?”
“Oh, The Illustrated Man,” Erwin said, fixing his glasses at the edge of his nose as he picked up another book. “One of the most notorious figures in djinn culture. He’s the literal freedom shield, I suppose. He doesn’t fly, though. Not in the literal sense.”
“The freedom shield?” Malek repeated.
“The Illustrated Man grants the right to leave the families.”
“I thought that was the patriarch’s job. His duty. That’s what the Freedom Summer is for,” Malek said, furrowing his brows.