Chapter 45
The next sound Malek remembered wasn’t the music from the Summerland, but glass breaking.
Then the sound of wings overhead, like a great bird had been baffled by the window and thought it was open sky.
Cries and cheers broke out around the room.
When Malek chanced a glance, he saw Caspar in the air.
White wings spread out from behind his back, massive and magnificent.
Like an angel? Malek wondered. No, he quickly corrected himself.
Like a djinn. Like the tapestries that Caspar had seen earlier in the night.
Sometimes djinns had wings. When they were powerful enough, they could fly.
Caspar’s wings had torn his shirt to rags as they spread out across his body.
His skin was golden in the Montréal light, and he looked divine as he hovered above them.
Malek almost didn’t notice Ultima in his arms until she started shooting.
Anthony cried out in pain as he was hit.
Two more bullets struck his chest and filled his suit with blood.
He looked at the red that covered his skin with a wonder that bordered on exaltation.
He almost looked like a djinn, like the family he wished he’d belonged to.
When Anthony finally collapsed onto his knees, the crown came with him.
It rolled perfectly into Malek’s waiting hand.
He wiped off the blood before sliding it over his head again.
“Please,” Anthony said. His fingers trembled as he opened and closed his fists.
“No,” Caspar said. It was a small refusal, but it echoed over the roar of the wings. “I owe you nothing.”
Anthony gasped one last time before crumbling entirely.
Then there was nothing.
Even Abdul stayed on the sidelines, watching as Anthony died with a kind of serenity. When the last groan escaped Anthony’s mouth, Abdul sat down.
“Thank you,” he murmured. “I’ve been waiting for that for a long, long time.”
“Me too.” Caspar’s wings drooped down and tucked behind his back, little more burdensome than a perpetual backpack.
He stood for a moment, framed in the centre of the room, before he ran to Malek without another word.
They embraced one another and held on as tight as they could, though Malek had no idea where to put his hands on Caspar’s back.
“Am I… am I hurting you? Are you shot?”
“It only grazed me, but the force behind it was enough to give me one hell of a shove.” Caspar gestured to his side where some blood trickled down from a small wound, barely more than a cut that would need four stitches.
“The wings are fine, too. Brand new and odd, but fine.” Caspar twitched his wings, which were matted with a little blood near the base of his spine.
Caspar gave no indication of pain until he buried his face in Malek’s neck. “I was so worried.”
“I was worried about you. I thought… like Abe…”
“Shhh.” Caspar pressed a tight kiss to his mouth. “I’m not like Abe.”
“But are you a djinn now? Is that how this goes? You’re like one of the older ones.”
“I… I have no idea,” Caspar said. “I didn’t decide. I fell and then I was flying.”
“The body does what the mind won’t decide,” Abdul said. His voice was quiet, but stronger than before. “Some of our ancestors had wings. You are like them. It’s a very important sign of leadership. You… have a lot on your shoulders now.”
“Was… was that a pun?” Caspar asked. When Abdul said nothing, Caspar only sighed. He glanced around the room at the blood and the murmured cries of pain from everyone. “Oh, God. We need—”
“I will tell you everything,” Abdul said. He rose from his chair like an old man whose knees were failing. “But first, let me heal your friends.”
An hour passed with all of them nursing their wounds and healing at a remarkable rate, thanks to Abdul and his series of wishes.
The necklace that Anthony had been using, along with a lucky coin, a rabbit’s foot, and a keychain from Abdul’s first car, were passed around for all who could use them.
Since Malek couldn’t possess wishes, William and the others wished for more bandages, pain medication, and water to clean wounds.
After Katja’s head injury was dealt with, she managed to find the right combination of words to heal Malek’s leg within the djinn rules of wishing.
When they were all healed the best they could be, they used the remaining wishes for tea and food and sat on the couch to listen to Abdul talk about what had happened to the El-Mohtars over the past few decades.
“Your parents, Caspar, were the first to defect from the unfair ruling under Qasim El-Mohtar. They started a trend of people defecting, but not everyone was as lucky as they were. I stayed with the family because Qasim had me working with a diplomat at the time, and I had no other family of my own. I was also blinded by the code. I didn’t think what Qasim was doing was wrong until my diplomat died and my items were sold at an estate sale.
Right around that time, Tariq and your band, Malek, made waves as defectors who were too shameless to hide. That’s what started the war.”
“A war?” Caspar asked, and Malek was grateful because the same question was rolling off his tongue.
“Yes. You can only get away for so long without disrespecting a patriarch’s pride, and most of the women and younger generations wanted nothing to do with the same code that gave the older men so much honour.
The war didn’t last long, but it was enough to bring talk of the Illustrated Man and his freedom shield to fruition.
The myth became a treaty, and business was separated from family life.
If you wanted to leave, you could leave, and absolutely no one could come after you without being stripped of their power.
But some of us—like myself, like many others in the El-Mohtar family—were being hunted and pegged off by Anthony as he desperately searched for his own treasure trove of wishes.
” Abdul took a momentary break to sip his tea and glare disdainfully at Anthony’s body.
Katja had put up protections against renewed life, so he could not come back.
Malek was sure that Abdul was going to spit on Anthony’s corpse, but he merely went back to his story.
“At first, when several people from the El-Mohtar family explained the freedom shield to Anthony, he was angry. He couldn’t believe djinns could be so obstinate and separate in that way.
He thought it’d be harder for him to get wishes since he couldn’t buy off a patriarch anymore.
But the shield seemed to give him the worst idea: Family only holds you back.
Get rid of them as soon as possible, and only focus on business.
Those he had items for were charged to kill his father shortly after that. ”
“But killing isn’t part of wishes,” Malek said.
“That’s true. But Anthony was a very, very good lawyer.
He found a loophole, and so we made things happen.
When his demands became too much, though…
some members figured out a way to break free.
Throw your items into an ocean, a landfill, or mail them away—and you effectively toss yourself into the Summerland. ”
“Is that why Erwin lost track of the El-Mohtars?” Malek asked.
Again, Abdul nodded. Speaking seemed to tire him. No amount of tea would wake him back up. He summarized a bit more of Anthony’s reign before reaching the present moment. He took a long drink and clasped Caspar’s arm.
“Your body knows your culture. So many of us have disappeared, but you’re still here. You have wings. Don’t let anyone tell you what you want. If you don’t want this life anymore, that’s okay. You can walk away from it. We all fought so we’d have the choice.”
Caspar looked at his lap, where his jewels were covered in the cloth again. “What about my family? The ones who are still alive?”
“They’re where they need to be.”
“But Anthony’s not here anymore. They can come back.”
“True. But collecting all those items would be nearly impossible. A mission much larger than the one you all just went on. No one can ask that of you.”
Malek wanted to disagree. They knew where to find the Sphinx to give them a riddle to solve the problem.
They could find all of Caspar’s family’s items and reassemble them.
It would be one hell of a family reunion, awkward beyond belief, but Malek would do it.
No one had to ask him—he’d do anything for Caspar.
Caspar put an arm around Malek’s back before looking at Abdul. “And you? What do you want?”
“Oh.” Abdul put down his mug of tea and thought for a moment. “You know, I think I’d like to rest a while.”
“Rest in the Summerland?”
“Yes. I can always come back later on, if someone is so inclined.”
Malek gazed at Caspar, allowing him to make this final call.
It was his family. After a moment, Caspar gathered the items from the table and sealed them in a box he found on the desk in the conference room.
With the package tucked under his arm, Caspar walked to the broken window and flew out into the night.
Malek and the rest of them watched as Abdul seemed to grow more tired by the second. Then, in a puff of red smoke, he was gone.
Caspar came back through the window moments later, the box no longer in his hand.
“Is that it?” William asked. “It’s all done? Over for now?”
“I guess so,” Ultima said. “Huh. A bit underwhelming, if you ask me.”
“Oh, be quiet. I grew fucking wings.” Caspar laughed and slowly turned to Malek. He reached up and pulled their lips together, soft and unhurried. The embrace was more about comfort than anything else. When Malek pulled away, he whispered in Caspar’s ear.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I… wanted a family. But I have one. Right?”
Malek nodded. When Caspar’s gaze landed on everyone else in the room, a shudder passed through Malek. They all made it. Every last one of them.
And they were a family now, no matter what blood or code said. They had the choice, and they had all picked one another.
When a thud sounded from outside the conference room, Katja rose to grab her weapon. Ultima positioned her chair toward the door, the gun in her hand once again. Malek didn’t know if he could fight another gargoyle, but he was ready. Caspar’s wings spread out like a shield, his stance firm.
“Show yourself,” Ultima demanded. “It’s been a long damn night.”
Jocasta stepped into the office with her weapon drawn. Everyone let out a collective sigh and eased up.
“Really?” William said. “You’re like three hours late. And you don’t even have coffee.”
Jocasta dropped her gun to the side with a curse.
“Shit. I’m sorry. But you don’t even understand the amount of gargoyles and other gang activity I had to shut down.
It’s fucking ridiculous. Montréal is terrible and…
” Jocasta tilted her head to the side, seeing Caspar for the first time. “Do you have wings now?”
“Yeah.” Caspar laughed as he stretched them out and tucked them under his shoulder blades again. “It’s a strange story. And a long one at that.”
“But if coffee’s on you, then we have time to tell yet another long and epic saga,” Ultima said.
“Yeah, if Starbucks is still the rule when someone is late, then I’m in,” Natasha echoed. When she smiled, her busted lip seemed garish next to her gold evening gown and slightly matted hair.
“Just do me a favour, Malek, and be short and sweet when you tell this one,” Ultima added. “As much as I liked hearing about the seven-year war or whatever that was, I have my limits.”
Jocasta could only laugh and shrug. “You know, that’s not a bad idea. And maybe over coffee, we can discuss you all working for me, because I certainly can’t do this alone.”
“Maybe,” Caspar said. He twitched his wings again with a smile. “I sure as hell can’t be an accountant now.”