Novels2Search
Djinn
Djinn - 02 - Freedom of Speech

Djinn - 02 - Freedom of Speech

-=-=-=-=-=-

Djinn - 02 - Freedom of Speech

-=-=-=-=-=-

“So unless I give you, uh, freedom of speech,” my new master said, “You can’t tell me anything?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” I replied, “But that’s the gist of it, yeah. You have to literally command me to speak my mind any time I want.”

“Okay,” he said, hesitating. “I command you to speak your mind any time you wish.”

Oh, what an unexpected surprise! Any time I wish. I could interpret that quite liberally.

Invisible chains loosened their grip from my psyche, leaving me with just a bit more freedom than I had moments before. I stared at my master, watching him as he observed me for any trickery.

“Gods but I hate, hate, hate being a fucking slave,” I said. “I was getting really tired of being forced to call you master all the damn time. What’s your name?”

“Paul Galloway,” he said, “Look, I ain’t no racist or nothing, I just, well, it’s confusing. Genie’s being real, getting shot. I’m sitting in my own blood. It’s a bit of a shock.”

“Well, Paul,” I said, flashing what I hoped was a winning smile, “Allow me to freshen you up a bit, okay?”

He nodded his head, and a minor permission was granted. I pulled from the magical energy stored in the lamp and waved my hand. A moment later, Paul was fresh and clean as if he had just stepped from the shower.

“Better?” I asked.

“Much,” He replied, looking at the new suit I had materialised around him. “So now that you can speak freely, what sort of suggestions do you have?”

“First off, let’s cover your tracks,” I said. “I don’t know much about magic or the occult, but we left your gun a lot of your blood behind. Assuming that the person who possessed my lamp was an occultist of some sort, that’s probably not a good thing. Why don’t we get rid of it before that someone decides to use it against you?”

“Like Voodoo or something?” Paul said, eyes growing wide. “That stuff is real?”

“I’m not an expert, Paul,” I said as the lamp pushed vague impressions of voodoo magic into my mind. “But yes, magic is quite real. And so are demons apparently, since my father was one. Just make the wish and I’ll cover your tracks.”

“I wish that you would cover my tracks.” He said.

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

I couldn’t help but smile. I had expected my first master to be some withered old modern mage with tons of experience in making pacts with demonic forces, and here I was gifted with poor, trusting Paul who was already falling into the habit of making sloppy wishes. Invisible chains of magic flowed from the lamp and bound me into compliance. I envisioned all of Paul’s blood that wasn’t inside his body vanishing and the magic fizzled out. Concentrating, I envisioned the gun he had when we first met popping into existence on the bed, and the magic fizzled again. Puzzled, I decided that I should check out the scene of the crime.

“Give me a moment and I’ll make it happen,” I said, gathering power from the lamp. “Rub the lamp if you need me.”

I turned etherial and shot through the wall, following the trail of destruction back to a penthouse apartment on the 30th floor of an upscale building halfway across the city. Flashing lights from firetrucks and police littered the streets below, evidence of the destructive potential of a magic sphere moving at supersonic speeds. They probably thought terrorists had set off multiple bombs across the city. As I approached the building, a strange prickling sensation crawled across my body. Some sort of barrier was in place to keep things like me out. I pushed until I reached the gaping hole in the side of the building and it grew intensely painful. Millions of invisible ants crawled over my skin, stinging and biting, distracting me. I could see four armed security guards poking around the room. One appeared to be on the phone with someone and I bounced a few probes against the barrier trying to listen in.

Backing off to a comfortable distance, I considered my options. I could try to brute-force my way in, but that would leave me weakened and drained. Lose enough power and I would end up back inside the lamp to recharge for a minor eternity. I threw out a few probes to test the barrier, poking and prodding for weaknesses. While I’m not a wizard or whatever magic-users call themselves in this modern age, I have been isolated for a decade and playing the equivalent of Mine Craft in a magical torture prison. The barrier felt pretty solid and appeared constructed with the sole purpose of keeping things like me out.

Satisfied that I was unable to carry out the wish, the magical compulsion receded and I zoomed back to Paul’s apartment in a flash.

When I arrived, Paul was rummaging around the cabinets in the kitchenette looking for something. I materialised in a small cloud of smoke, making for what I hoped would be an impressive entrance. Paul jumped and swung, his fist impacting my jaw and rocking my head back. Lesson learned again, never materialise fully.

“Hey, uh, sorry about that,” Paul said, rubbing his bruised knuckles. “You startled me.”

I made a show of rubbing my jaw. The pain from his unexpected attack was fleeting and easily banished. It was like being slapped by a child, a minor annoyance. Unless someone used magic or ordered me to suffer, I could ignore most physical pain inflicted on my material body.

“No, that was damn impressive,” I said, buttering him up. “Most people would have flinched away, but you didn’t even hesitate to clock me on in the jaw.”

“I grew up in a rough neighbourhood,” he said, a small twist of his lips indicating that there was more to that story. He turned back to his rummaging, “I need a smoke.”

A packet of Sobranie Black Russians appeared in my hand. I offered him one of the premium cigarettes and produced a silver lighter. He took a long pull then exhaled a blue-grey sigh of pleasure.

“That’s nice,” Paul said, eyeing the black stick between his fingers. He took another drag and leaned back against the counter. “So how did it go? All done?”

I shook my head. “There was a magical barrier in place around the apartment. I wasn’t able to break through. That means we should act quickly. How does a holiday in Tahiti sound?”

-=-=-=-=-=-

S: 16apr20

F: 16apr20

W: 1116