Genie Knows Best by Judi Fennell Page A

out of Samantha’s way, the sparks zapping between the wires at the frayed end making it as dangerous as dragon fire. “What happened here, Stavros?”
    Dirham bolted toward the stack of boxes, his pointed little nose twitching, while Stavros leaped onto his chair. A wheel cracked off, and the chair listed sideways as it spun to the right. Stavros stood up and dragged it the chair across the chipped, mosaic-tiled floor until it banged against the desk. The picture of his late wife fell over.
    “Nothing’s happened here. That’s the problem.” The satyr stood the photograph up. “Ever since Faruq got himself arrested, no one cares. Now it’s just me and Tarek, and you know how he likes the ladies. Time was I liked them, too. Then, Colette, ahh.” He stroked a finger along the frame. “They don’t know what to do with themselves.”
    They… or Stavros? Kal had a feeling he knew what the true answer was. You couldn’t put a bunch of magical beings, each with different powers, together and not expect pissing matches. It took a strong leader to keep everyone in line. Faruq had used fear as his motivator, but Stavros? The state of his office and the rest of the town spoke to his lack of success.
    “I’m sorry for your loss, Stavros,” Samantha said, brushing between Kal and a large steamer trunk. The tarnished lock snagged her pants. “How long were you and your wife together?”
    Kal couldn’t read the lettering on the trunk’s faceplate, which was probably a good thing. Izaaz housed its share of important artifacts, and to see the place disorganized like this, well, he just hoped none of those artifacts got into the wrong hands.
    “Colette and I were together for three and a half millennia come next Tuesday,” Stavros answered.
    Kal gripped Samantha’s elbow when she stumbled, as he’d known she would. She was handling this situation a lot better than he’d expected, but realizing someone had been married for more than thirty-five hundred years would test any mortal’s mettle. “Sam? Are you okay?”
    She blinked, her green eyes wide. “I really wish I hadn’t asked that question.”
    “As you wish, Sam.” Kal waved his hand and hoped Dirham was keeping tabs on the number of wishes he was granting. One thousand and one, and he’d be home free.
    She stumbled against the trunk again. Her pants caught a second time. But this time when she freed the fabric, enough dust came with it that Kal could read the inscription.
    Kharah! That was Pandora’s box. So that’s where it’d gotten to. Contrary to popular belief, the reason Pandora hadn’t let Hope out was because the box had gotten caught up in the whirlwind of the chaos she’d unleashed and had disappeared before she had the chance. Her publicist had concocted the other story to keep the truth from coming to light and causing widespread panic, but Kal had run into Pandi in a bar one night when she’d been too far into her cups of ouzo, and the story had come out.
    No wonder Izaaz looked the way it did; its citizens had no Hope—because it was locked up and forgotten in Stavros’s office.
    Apparently, the satyr had no idea what he had, and given Stavros’s state of mind right now, Kal wasn’t sure telling him would be the best thing. One crisis at a time.
    “I’m sorry for your loss, Stavros,” Samantha said, oblivious to what she was standing next to— and what had just happened. She was looking a little confused, though.
    “Déjà vu,” Kal whispered. Since she’d wished she hadn’t asked the question, he couldn’t explain to her why she thought she was reliving the scene. Déjà vu was a handy excuse, and one all djinn learned in Wish Fulfillment 101. It worked on people their masters interacted with, too.
    “ Efharistó , Samantha,” Stavros said, as if the re-do hadn’t happened. The citizens of Izaaz weren’t fazed by genie magic, but sadly, neither they nor the town seemed to have seen any magic in a lot longer than the time