Magic Under Stone

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Ifra became aware of his body like a prisoner waking to find himself in chains. One moment he was liquid smoke, hot with magic, and the next, his feet were touching the floor. He felt the weight of fabric on his body, the golden cuffs at his wrists, the cool air on his skin. This was the fifth time, his fifth master, and he still wasn’t used to it.

His arms were dappled with green-tinged shadow, and his first vision was of forest-trees growing tall as towers around him, their leaves whispering-but the sound was wrong. Too closed, like the indoors.

The man standing before him drew a slight breath and turned to a younger man beside him. “A jinn. It really is a jinn. I do believe you’ve proven yourself enough for two lifetimes, my son.”

“It’s my honor, Father.” The younger man stared with clear pride at the golden lamp in his father’s hands.

Ifra remembered his training and swept into a graceful bow. A new language came to him with magical ease. “Master. You have released me from my bondage, and for that, I shall grant you three wishes within my formidable powers.”

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