As You Wish by Jackson Pearce

more than concrete.”
    â€œBut in Caliban, it is. You have the giant glass buildings but then…the flowers.”
    â€œIt sounds like Oz,” she says. “Like in the movies, I mean, with the Emerald City….” As she drifts off, I’m suddenly very aware that she’s looking at me. Our eyes lock for a long time. “You’re sure you want this place instead of a fancy city garden?” she adds.
    I exhale and nod. “This place has its charms, too. You don’t have the Ancients breathing down your neck here, talking about repopulating Caliban and all that. You want to hear some sex talks….”
    Viola laughs, and though I can’t see her face, I know it’s lit up in the shadows. “Repopulate? So wait, you said there are only a few thousand jinn, right?”
    â€œGive or take, I imagine.”
    â€œWhy so few?”
    I run my hands along the chair arms for a moment, enjoying the rippling of fabric beneath my fingers. “Well, if you believe the Ancients, it’s all part of our punishment.”
    â€œPunishment?”
    My eyes are growing used to the darkness, and I can justmake out the outline of her form, sitting up and hugging her knees in bed.
    â€œIt’s this old story, sort of like our own little creation tale. The myth is that ages ago, jinn and humans lived here together. Jinn had magical powers, but instead of using them for the good of everyone—human and jinn alike—they used it for personal gain, power, selfishness, that sort of thing. So as punishment, jinn were made the servants of wishing humans and banished to Caliban.”
    â€œIt doesn’t sound like it’s a terrible place to be banished to.”
    â€œI never figured out that part either, to be honest. But keep in mind, that part is all just a myth. The only hard facts are that as the population here grows, more and more people have wishes. Eventually there were too many mortals with wishes for the jinn to keep up with, so instead of everyone getting their wishes granted, the Ancients select a few hundred at a time—I think they try to spread out the wishes so you don’t have too many people in one area suddenly winning the lottery or becoming rock stars. But the more often we’re called,the more often we’re here. The more often we’re here, the more often we age. And the more often we age—”
    â€œThe more often you grow old and die,” Viola finishes for me.
    â€œExactly,” I answer, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. “Combine that with the fact that we don’t attach to one another like you people do, and you don’t exactly have a recipe for a booming population. That’s why there’s all the protocol, all the rules, all the desperation to increase the population. The Ancients want us in, out, and back to our normal lives; they make our masters forget all about us so there’s no risk they’ll tell other humans that we exist and can be summoned. They’re afraid that we’ll die out.”
    â€œI don’t want you to die,” Viola says in a small voice.
    My head jerks up. “No, no. Don’t worry about that,” I mumble quietly, as if I’m afraid the Ancients will hear me from Caliban.
    â€œI’ll wish if you want. Really.”
    â€œI told you, no. They’re your wishes.”
    â€œRight,” Viola sighs. “Well, let me know if you…if you change your mind. About me wishing now, I mean.”
    â€œOkay.”
    But I know I won’t.

thirteen
Viola
    I GRUMBLE AND swat at my alarm. No matter how many times I’ve been late to school because of hitting the SNOOZE button, I know it’s an unbreakable morning habit. The pop song blasting through the tiny speaker is silenced, and I prepare to fall back asleep for seven minutes. A soft laugh interrupts the quiet.
    Jinn. I sit bolt upright in the bed, clutching the covers to my