A Jinn in a Lamp?
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This is certainly a strange day.
It all started when we were cleaning out the attic and getting ready for the new shop opening. I told Aimee she had to help, so we ended up covered in dust and with a bunch of junk we had no idea where it came from. I have a sneaking suspicion some of my cousins' friends have been storing their idiot packrat things at my place. I just hope none of it's stolen - or at least, stolen from someone that doesn't deserve it. Then again, most of them know better than to store hot tickets in a house full of kids, right?
At least, that's what I told myself.
Hefting a wide, heavy leather trunk and thumping it on top of another one just like it, I turned my head away from the cloud of dust it raised and glanced at Aimee. "Don't tell me - authentic Civil War junk."
"It looks old enough." She agreed, wiping at the grime-covered glass of a yellow-stained picture. "And the dress is certainly right. Major woof in lace."
I laughed and shoved her shoulder; she grinned at me and set the bulky frame in the 'clean' section behind us. "Okay, so tell me again why we're cleaning this by hand instead of magicking it clean? You could do it, I could do it, half the kids in the house could do it - "
"Physical work builds character." Shaking my head, I tackled the next stack of dilapidated cardboard boxes, their frayed edges peeling with old tape. Aimee snorted behind me, and I grinned. "That, and I'm not sure what's exactly up here. I think some of the stuff that should have been in the Lab got stuck in the back when we moved."
"Ouch." I didn't need to see her face to tell she was wincing. "Magicking magical supplies. Now there's a recipe for disaster. With our luck, we'd blow the place up."
"Exactly." Arms full of musty cardboard, I turned and started toward the nearest clear space to sort out whatever junk might be in this carton, feeling the way carefully with my feet. Unfortunately, the nearest solid object wasn't at foot level.
"OW! Son of a - "
Staggering and half-blind from the sudden crack of my kneecap against hard-edged wood, I clutched at the box in a desperate bid to keep it from falling from my grip - or falling completely apart due to the rough handling. A loud metallic clunk told me I wasn't entirely sucessful. "Damnit. What'd I drop?"
"Aside from my jaw and your dignity?" Aimee teased. I muttered a few choice words at her in Illuzen Common, but she just snickered, bending to pick up the object as I surrendered the box to another stack and rubbed my aching knee. "It's a lamp of some kind, I think." She observed, holding it up to the light. "The kind you put oil in. There's writing on it that looks Arabic, but I don't read that."
"Gee, humility is so like you." I snorted, and she stuck her tongue out at me, handing over the tarnished golden metal. Turning it over in my palms, I sat down on the nearest set of trunks, absently brushing the dust away psychically to avoid what my son Tex so quaintly called "white butt syndrome." The lettering etched into the side did sort of look Arabic, though of course I couldn't read that language, either. But there were some definite differences, and it looked a bit more familiar than that. "Actually, I think it's a variant of Wraith and Heiraldic." I wiped at it with one of the dustrags we'd brought up, trying to see more clearly. "I can't tell what it says, but maybe Ri can."
"She can read everything else." Aimee agreed with a grin. "You know what it looks like, though? A genie's lamp. And you just rubbed it."
"Eh, no genie, though." I mock-sighed, then grinned as a sudden idea hit. Cradling the lamp close, I rubbed at the side dramatically with the dustrag, widening my eyes and giggling with maniac glee. "I wish I had a new baby, I wish I had a new baby - "
"You nerd!" Aimee laughed and threw a lace-trimmed pillow at me; I ducked and sneezed as the landing behind me raised a fresh puff of grit. "Come on, it's worth a try." Grinning, I carefully set the lamp aside on a table near the door, then headed back to the jumble of junk that still held sway over two-thirds of the attic. "What's all this, Christmas lights? What're the Christmas lights doing in a box marked Newts?"
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(meanwhile, at a soon-to-be familiar Agency in Gaia - )
The figure that floated in from the early morning overcast didn't necessarily look like the normal Gaian inhabitant. Then again, considering how subjective the Gaian population was, she probably fit right in, even if her clothes didn't match the current weather. Sheer, gauzy top, low-cut belt, thin pants that ended in a wisp of fog-like smoke; she seemed like she belonged more in a place with eternally sunny skies, opulent palaces and a camel or twenty. Her bulging belly, however, seemed to indicate she knew what she was doing.
"Well, now, are you really sure about this?" A few minutes later, and the young woman was 'seated' in a back office, several forms stacked in front of her and another young woman seated across the desk eyeing her intently. "We always want to make sure the families that give up their children are completely committed to their choices."
"Yes." The young woman's melodic voice was firm and cheerful as she began filling out the information required, one hand lightly on her extended stomach. Her writing was elegant and slanted slightly to one side, almost like calligraphy or italics, though her English had no accent. "This is - the best thing, for the little one and for me, I think. The child deserves a good and loving home, more than I can provide."
She paused, head lifting and eyes unfocused, as though she were seeing something far away or invisible to human sight. A small swirl of sparkling color spun like a cyclone in her eyes, no more than a flash through the irises; then, with a blink, she shook herself and reached across the desk to another stack of papers, tugging one free with light, nimble fingers. "I believe this family would be best."
"This one?" The young woman doctor - Skye, to most people - took the proffered page and ran her eyes over the document thoughtfully. "It was filled out a while ago - lots of kids and people in this house. It seems alright, if you're very sure."
The pregnant young woman nodded seriously, and Skye smiled, leaning back in her chair. "In that case, with everything in order, we'll send the information along and get the ball rolling." She hesitated for a moment, then added, "Can you really grant wishes?"
"Oh yes!" The jinn nodded again, her solemn expression melting into its usual infectious cheer. "I love granting wishes, it's so much fun!"
"Great." With a laugh, Skye looked up at the ceiling. "I didn't get to run out for coffee this morning - "
" - I wish for a decaf latte."
