Circle of Jinn by Lori Goldstein Page B

in an innocent voice. “You’re not staying here? There’s plenty of bedrooms. Mom and I can butch one up for you if they’re too girly.” I give a nervous laugh. “Which reminds me, where have you been staying, anyway?”
    â€œAzra.” Zak inches closer to me. “Sister. It’s time. I have to go home.”
    I draw my white comforter up around my shoulders. “But this is your home.”
    â€œIt was my home. Maybe it will be again. But at the moment, this is not my home.”
    â€œBut don’t you want to get to know Mom?”
    Don’t you want to get to know me?
    Zak sighs. “More than anything. I don’t want to leave either of you, but I must. Father and I have no way of communicating while I am here. He had to lower the shield that blocks apporting between the worlds save for those who can shape-shift so I could come through, but he couldn’t leave it down. Someone would find out. We agreed on a single day that he would lower it again.”
    â€œToday.”
    â€œNeither of us believed my mission here would take this long. He padded my time so I could get to know you, even if it wasn’t supposed to be as your brother.” He gives me a devilish smile. “It is a good thing he tacked on the extra, is it not?”
    I punch him in the arm.
    â€œ Rahmah !” he cries.
    My heart swims all the way up to my throat. This is how my mother must have felt every time my father returned. This must be how it was every time she faced him, waiting for him to make her forget again.
    â€œBut we just got you back,” I say.
    Zak finds the outline of my fingers under the comforter and presses his hand on top of my own. “I will always come back, Sister. This will be for now, but not forever.”
    He pushes up the sleeve of his tunic. An intricate tattoo of curled lines and shapes marks his upper arm. I study it further. It’s not lines and shapes. I tilt my head. It’s a collection of letters. Letters that form words. Tattooed onto Zak’s arm are the words “Always. But not forever.”
    They are the words our father said to our mother before he left for Janna—before both he and Zak left for Janna. I read them in my mother’s diary.
    â€œAlways. I’ll love you both always .” He said this to my mother while I was still cocooned in her belly. “ This will be for now, but not forever.”
    I lean in and trace the letters with one finger. As I inch back, Zak traps my finger, then my hand, and then me, drawing me into his arms.
    â€œI told you it wouldn’t be the last time we saw each other,” Zak says. “And neither will this.”
    *   *   *
    We spent the day at the beach as a family. Me, Zak, and my mother. With our picnic basket, our red-and-white-checked blanket, our Frisbee throwing, and our kite flying, I’m pretty sure the waves were crashing to the beat of “Kumbaya.” It makes me glad it was Nate’s day off.
    Now, as Zak and I sit on the front steps, the sun hangs low in the sky. My mother’s upstairs in her bedroom writing a letter for Zak to bring to our father. She asked me to do the same. But I don’t want to waste a single moment Zak and I have left together.
    Suddenly, Zak stands. “There’s something I have to do before I go. It won’t take long.”
    Apparently my brother doesn’t feel the same as I do.
    â€œWhat?” I say. “I’ll come with you.”
    â€œI can’t tell you, and you can’t come with me.”
    I start to protest when he puts up his hand.
    â€œFor the love of Janna, please don’t,” he says. “Just trust me. Father’s going to stuff me like a leg of lamb when he finds out I told you as much as I did. Can you please not add more balsam to my pyre?”
    I nod reluctantly.
    â€œNow that’s a good little Jinn,” he says as he enters the