‘Oh all right then,’ said the Djinn, giving in. ‘Allah is the Lord of all creation, the one true God,’ he said, making Tamaria wish she had not asked. She looked around nervously. Back where I started from, she thought.
‘Is that another name for Zeus then?’ she wondered aloud.
‘Zeus!’ barked the Djinn contemptuously. ‘Bit player. No real power at all, except over mortals and the local weather. So, I’m in Greece, am I? I was wondering. It’s hard to keep track in the sea, one shark looks remarkably like another you know.’
Tamaria ignored this digression and seized on the rest.
‘So the gods ...?’
‘Temporary,’ the Djinn assured her, ‘in fact, they’ve already been phased out in some parts of the world.’
Tamaria digested this. It was not as surprising to her as you might have expected. She had already entertained certain suspicions. After all, if even half the stories were true, then the gods had never behaved exactly divinely.
‘So what are you?’ she asked.
‘I told you; I am a Djinn, Genie or ...’
‘Yes, but what does that mean?’
The Djinn bit his enormous lip. ‘It’s complicated, but what it means to you is that you can make any three wishes that you want, and I will grant them for you. You have heard of magic I take it?’
‘Anything?’
‘Yup.’
‘Anything at all?’
‘Yes!’
‘But only the gods have that power.’
The Djinn sighed ‘There you go again. Look, it’s like I said, it’s complicated, but basically, I have more power than all of your tin pot deities put together. I have the greatest power in the universe - under Allah.’
‘Gosh.’
‘I can boil the seas, change the seasons, blot out the sun ...’ said the Djinn, apparently quite carried away.
‘But only if my master or mistress wishes it,’ he ended sadly.
‘Gosh,’ again.
‘You see,’ he explained, ‘when mortals turned up on the Earth, we were enslaved to prevent us from harming them or destroying the world or whatever. Now you mortals are the only beings capable of that, “Your wish…” etc. etc.’
‘Take your gods now,’ he carried on in a lecturing tone, ‘the only reason they exist at all is because you mortals believe in them and they can only do such damage, as you believe they can. Even mortals, it seems, need someone to blame.’
‘But if you were set free…?’
‘Oh don’t worry about that. I won’t do any harm. I like mortals, I mean everybody needs somebody to look down on, and I like the world the way it is anyway. But it would be agreeable to be my own boss for a while – um change I mean.
‘So, three wishes,’ he carried on, anxious now to get to the point. ‘What’s it going to be then? Inexhaustible wealth, great beauty (pointedly) true love?’
‘Um, about the smiting, can you honestly? Only I can think of a few people ...’ she trailed off thoughtfully.
‘Oh yes. No problem, just point me in the right direction. Show me your enemies, sort of thing.’
‘So you can even smite gods?’
‘Well yes I dare say I could, but what would be the point? They’ll all be gone soon anyway, lack of belief. Still, if it’s what you want …’
‘No,’ said Tamaria with what she fondly believed to be great shrewdness, ‘this is an important decision, three wishes. I mean this looks like the opportunity of a lifetime to me. I can see that this sort of thing wants a lot of thinking about. So can you just go back in the bottle or whatever, until I’m ready?’
‘Oh marvellous,’ thought the Djinn with more than a soupçon of irony, ‘this is just what I need, another one trying to beat the system! Why do I always get them? This could take forever.’
But – ‘Of course O’ My Mistress, I am at your service,’ is what he actually said (abasement is in the Djinn Charter) and he turned to smoke and wafted back into the bottle.
Damn!
~ Chapter Two ~
Askphrit sat ruminating in the bottle. If, he was thinking, he was smart about this, it might be worth the wait.
This one, he decided, was too clever for her own good, and he might be able to turn that to his advantage; if he could just lead her in the direction he wanted her to go.
He had a feeling that she was halfway there already – which made things easy. Not that he had not tried this before; most wishers were selfish, stupid or power mad. Oh, not all of them of course, some were hopelessly idealistic save the world types - like that strange girl who had wished that the sun would never go down (for the sake of the flowers apparently). Fortunately, it had not lasted long; there’s always another Djinn whose master/mistress is out to destroy the world and when old Jham Bhutti’s master at the time wished for an eternal night it had evened things out.
For “power mad” see Ashota, a Grand Vizier who, rather predictably, wished to rule the world (Grand Viziers all tend to think like this). Praise Allah that he had died from overwork before anyone noticed.
But, although all these types had possibilities, no one so far had had the right combination of sheer arrogance, stupidity and ambition to serve Askphrit’s needs.
This girl, however, he judged, was all of these things and furthermore fancied herself cunning into the bargain – perfect.
He was relieved to be away from his last master, whose first wish had been, somewhat inevitably, more wishes (that happened a lot; somebody ought to review the Charter) Askphrit sincerely hoped that she did not catch on to that one, she was undoubtedly the type. But, in truth, that was a good thing. Yes, he was confident that she would only need a slight nudge in the right direction. After old Ibn Kadlin … but the less said about him the better. Total lack of ambition, not a chance there of entrapping him; his idea of a fabulous wish had been a new net (he had been a fisherman) mending the holes in his boat, food on the table every day, that kind of thing. And the smell! Askphrit had never wanted to be anywhere near another fish ever again, so it had been particularly disagreeable luck indeed to have spent the best part of the last fifty years at the bottom of the sea. It had made him more than usually determined to escape once and for all.
If Askphrit had only known it, he was closer than he could have ever dreamed. Tamaria, when talking of smiting had been struck by a thought. The exact thought that Askphrit wanted to plant in her head, in point of fact.
At first it had seemed just too outrageous, but the more she thought it over, the more it seemed not only feasible but even, quite possibly not really enough. If Tamaria had had such a hackneyed thing as a motto, it would have been along the lines of “Enough is never enough” or even “Too much is never enough”
The thought germinated, grew and evolved, wild fantasies gnawed at her. Soon it would not so much be a case of giving her a nudge, as of holding her back.
The thought had started as this,
‘What if I could do my own smiting? I bet he could do that, give me that power.’
Then she had moved on to, ‘… or another power, not smiting! Or another power and smiting power. Or even smiting, plus another two powers; three wishes, three powers, of course! But what?’ What powers?’
It was at this point that she had told Askphrit to get back in the bottle. You can see where this is going of course, so let’s jump ahead to the following morning when Tamaria had contrived to be alone in her bedroom by means of an invented headache. The other obvious advantage to this was that, for once, it was Xanthe and not herself who was taking care of Lydia, who had cried and cried when she heard the news. (Tamaria was not particularly kind to Lydia of course, but Xanthe was worse). And, in this way, she could also avoid the suspicious questions of the latter, who had badgered her for an hour after she had returned to the picnic party about where she had been - assuming that Tamaria had sneaked off to see her friends. Xanthe had no friends, and natur
ally resented the fact that Tamaria had plenty. At least she had not spotted the bottle, hidden carefully among Tamaria’s clothes.
Having finally shaken herself free of her worried mother and her offers of possets and spices and various other dubious “cures” and having promised to rest, she settled down to open the bottle. An actual headache was, naturally, out of the question she felt exhilarated and her hands were shaking, but there was a strange pounding at her temples, which was rather worrying. She decided not to worry about it; if this worked it would mean that she would never have to worry about anything ever again.
She took a deep breath and pulled out the cork. BANG!
Curse it! She had forgotten about the noise. Her mother came running across the courtyard. ‘Tammy, Tammy, are you all right? I heard the most terrible noise. What happened?’
Tamaria panicked; also she hated being called “Tammy” naturally. ‘Think,’ she muttered, ‘think!’ Her mother was almost at the door.
‘Of course I’m all right mother,’ she said imperiously. ‘Don’t be silly. It must have come from the street. Please go away, so I can sleep,’ she held her breath and heard
‘Oh, a - all right dear, um if you’re sure.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘Yes, well… I could fetch you some ...’
‘No Mother, please.’
‘Yes well, I’ll um ... pop in later to see if you’re feeling better.’
Tamaria un-gritted her teeth as she heard her mother’s footsteps fade away. Phew! As they say.
Askphrit was disappointed, a perfect opportunity for a wasted wish. Gone! This one was obviously way smarter than she looked. He was trying, with a conspicuous lack of success, to hide behind a pot-plant. Just as if he could not turn himself into anything he liked – an ant for instance – or even make himself invisible. He was hoping that she would not think to wonder why he had not.
Apparently, it never crossed her mind. She looked at him acidly ‘You can come out now,’ she said dryly.
‘O’ My Mistress ...’ he began.
‘Yes, yes,’ she said testily. ‘Now then,’ she took a deep breath, ‘I wish ...’
* * *
Askphrit could not believe it – literally. As a purveyor of human misery by the dispensing of countless ‘free lunches’ over the centuries, he could not help looking for the catch. There had to be one. It just could not be that easy; it never is. Nobody knows this better than a Djinn. Thousands of years of luring humanity into believing that they could have it all for nothing had made a confirmed sceptic of him. See the gift horse? All I want to look at are its teeth.
On the other hand, he had waited years for an opportunity like this, and experience told him that it would never happen again. Besides, what could go wrong? No, do not go there. Because, he realized, it was too late, she had made the wish.
‘Very well,’ he shrugged, ‘here goes nothing.’ He smirked maliciously.
‘Your wish is my command.’ And he snapped his fingers. There was a special-effect that would have made a couple of amateur filmmakers, working in their dads’ garage with plasticine and a camcorder, feel ashamed.
‘I don’t feel any different, said Tamaria pettishly. ‘Are you sure it worked?’
‘Oh yes, it worked,’ he held up his wrists, and the shackles that Tamaria had not even noticed, broke apart and fell off and to her everlasting horror, materialised on her own wrists.
‘What the ... ?’ she shrieked.
Askphrit laughed
‘What have you done?’
‘What you asked me to,’ he told her complacently.
‘NO!’
‘But yes. You wished to be omnipotent, omniscient and immortal. That’s three, so I’m free. The catch is … there’s always a catch; you knew that didn’t you? Oh you didn’t? Well there is. In this case, the only beings who possess all those powers are The Djinn. So, you’re a Djinn now. You asked for it!’
‘But, what about the gods?’ she asked plaintively.
‘Oh no, haven’t you been listening? They’re on the way out. And as for omniscience, most of them couldn’t locate their backsides with a map, as the saying goes.’
‘But,’ she grasped at a straw, ‘all I have to do is grant three wishes and then I’ll be free too, right?’
‘Not exactly, you’ll only be free for as long as you can stay out of the bottle, and trust me, some cunning swine always manages to get you back in there – eventually.’
‘What bottle?’
Askphrit pointed.
‘But that’s your bottle.’
‘Not any more little girl,’ the former Djinn sneered, ‘I’m free now, and since you’ve replaced me, it’s your bottle now. Nobody’s ever putting me back in there. Can’t!’ He laughed and laughed and laughed and… Well you get the idea.
He stopped suddenly. Tamaria’s face was such a picture of misery that he felt suddenly sorry for her.
‘Look,’ he said, consolingly, ‘it’s not that bad. You’re a bright girl. You’ll be free – for a while at least – pretty soon, and if you’re smart, you can make it a long time. Then again, maybe you can pull the same stunt on some other poor sap.’
Tamaria brightened up slightly.
‘Look,’ he continued, ‘I’m sorry I did it to you (well really, you did it to yourself) but I’ve waited a long time to be free. Really free, I mean, permanently.’
‘How long?’ Tamaria whispered.
‘Oh um – never mind. The point is you know how it’s done. I didn’t. I had to figure it out for myself, didn’t I? And in the meantime you have all these amazing powers.’
‘Not much use to me in a bottle, are they?’ said Tamaria bitterly.
‘Yes, well. How would it be if I set you up with your first sucker? I mean client.’
‘No, you had it right the first time. I certainly feel like a right sucker. You νόθος*,’ she added feelingly.
*[An extremely rude Greek word that I have no intention of translating, use your imagination]
‘Well, there’s gratitude for you. I’ll just let you get on with it shall I?’
‘No! Please, I mean you did get me into this mess, the least you could do is…’
‘All right, all right, point taken. I suppose I can spare you some time. After all, I do have an eternity now.’
‘Don’t rub it in.’
‘Right; well first you’ll want to see what you can do. Try this.’ And he changed back into the very handsome man she had seen the previous day. Tamaria concentrated and changed.
‘Er yes, very good,’ he said trying to suppress a laugh. ‘Now how about trying something a little more feminine? Let me see, what have you always wanted to look like?’
She tried again.
‘Take a look. No, don’t walk to the mirror, teleport – just sort of move yourself there with your mind. Always impresses the suckers.’
She did it, and there in the mirror was Aphrodite herself, as seen in various paintings and sculptures that Tamaria had seen all her life. Gone was the limp, mousy hair that never dressed properly, the too small eyes, the prominent slightly hooked nose and pale lips. In their place was a cascade of golden hair, large blue eyes and a button nose and rosebud mouth set off by a peaches and cream complexion. She appeared to be taller too.
‘Wow, that’s me?’
‘Yup.’
‘By Allah – why did I just say that?’
‘Oh, er it’s a Djinn thing.’ He said this rather cagily, but Tamaria did not notice.
‘You can take on any appearance you can think of now,’ he told her, ‘but I have to admit I like that one.’
‘So do I,’ breathed Tamaria. ‘Maybe darker hair, what do you think?’
‘Try it?’
She watched in fascination as the golden hair became a glossy raven black. ‘Wow.’
As you can probably imagine, this went on for quite some
time; so let’s skip over the makeover scene to the point when Tamaria was finally satisfied with her appearance, and Askphrit was thoroughly fed up. Eternity’s a long time, but there’s no point wasting it. Hadn’t he wasted enough of it?
Although, he had to admit, the final result was breathtaking. Aphrodite, pah! Eat your heart out. Tamaria had obviously been thinking about this for a long time.
She then learned to fly, to teleport all over the globe (she was surprised to learn that it was a globe) and to manifest and transmogrify. Of course, she did not actually have to learn. It was a question, as Askphrit explained it, of “think it and it happens” – easy. ‘Want to move a mountain, dry up an ocean? No problem. Although, you’ll find you can’t do the really big stuff like that unless a mortal wishes for it.’
He manifested a copy of the Djinn Charter. ‘Read it in the bottle,’ he advised. ‘It gets boring in there after you’ve redecorated for the millionth time. Although I flatter myself that I’ve made it quite cosy in there. You might not like it though,’ he said, doubtfully, looking around her room.
‘If it’s so damn cosy, why don’t you get back in there?’ said Tamaria with some asperity, as the reality of her situation came back to boot her in the face.
‘No fear.’
‘Worth a try,’ she said ruefully. The convivial atmosphere had dissipated faster than new Government’s election promises, leaving behind nothing but an awkward silence.
Askphrit had never expected to feel so guilty about this; he had never truly expected it to happen at all.
‘That’s the spirit,’ he said heartily, ‘don’t despair.’ He was suddenly desperate to cheer her up.
‘There are two ways to free yourself permanently,’ he advised. ‘One is the way I used on you. You fool some suck… some mortal into taking your place. The other is for the client to wish you free.
‘Don’t hope to hard for that one,’ he added sagely. ‘They’re a selfish lot. Anyway the downside to that one is that you’ll become human again.’ He stopped, realising that this line of encouragement was not helpful.
They both looked at the bottle.
‘Need I get in right now?’ she asked woefully.
‘Yes I’m afraid so, the rules are pretty clear. I tried to get around it once, well I tried everything. It was nasty.’
‘What ... ?’ she began to ask, but he held up a hand.