djinn power doesn’t work in the spirit world.” He pausedand then added, “Tell me, Leo, are you a good judge of people?”
“I think I’m a good judge of people, I trust, sir,” said Leo.
“That’s a fine answer,” said Mr. Rakshasas. “If you help us, Leo, we’ll do our best to help you when we’re back on the other side. Won’t we, John? You have our word on it. So that you can stop being the Ka servant of that temple back in Manhattan. What do you say?”
“I say all right,” said Leo. “I haven’t got anything to lose. After a hundred and thirty years, I’ve had enough of being a guide.”
“You said that you thought many of those spirits were hiding in that house. From what exactly?”
“It’s like this,” said Leo. “Normally, there are thousands of spirits around. But those were the first spirits we’ve seen since entering the portal. And what’s more, they were hiding.”
“From what?”
“I don’t know. Is it important?”
“It might be.” Mr. Rakshasas shrugged. “Where’s that canoe?”
Leo took them to the canoe. And while they paddled their way up the Hudson River, John and Mr. Rakshasas told him a little about Faustina and a little bit more about being a djinn.
“To have the power to give someone three wishes must be a tremendous responsibility,” said Leo. “But to have threewishes given to you would also require great intelligence to handle well. It is perhaps not always good to receive exactly what you want.”
“Sure, with wisdom like that, you could be a djinn yourself, Leo.”
They reached Bannermann’s Island in the early hours of the morning. Gray dawn was breaking and the creepy-looking gray house in the center of the island was at its most still and quiet, and just as John remembered it. More or less. The grave where he and Dybbuk had buried Felicia’s butler, Max, was now marked by an ape-shaped headstone.
They went into the living room where the remains of a fire were still smoldering in the fireplace, and sat down underneath the black-and-white oil painting of Faustina. To John’s eye, she looked even more like Dybbuk than he remembered. Willful and mischievous. It was hard to believe that the last time he had been in the room she might have been there, too. Invisibly. In spirit. Watching them.
“Do you think we should call out to her?” John asked Mr. Rakshasas.
“If she’s here, she’ll come. Remember, it’s the quiet pig that eats the meal.” Mr. Rakshasas leaned back on the sofa and then yawned. “This was always a fine room for waiting in.”
But they did not have to wait long.
“Who are you?” said a voice. “And would you mind telling me what you’re doing here?”
Faustina was taller than John had supposed from her portrait, and much lovelier. John thought she looked exactly like what she had been on the day her spirit had lifted out of her djinn body: a twelve-year-old girl. And yet he knew that it was twenty-four years since she had been born. Did that make her twenty-four years old? Or just twelve? He very much hoped the latter and felt his heart miss a beat as he stood up and looked into her gray eyes for the first time.
“My name’s John,” he said a little awkwardly. “I’m a friend of your brother, Dybbuk.”
“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?”
“Yes. A few weeks ago.”
“I thought I recognized you.”
“We’ve come to bring you back home,” he said. “So you can regain possession of your body.”
Faustina let out a breath and sat down heavily, opposite her three visitors.
“Don’t you,” John asked anxiously, “want to go home?”
“Always,” she said. “At first, I prayed that someone would come and find me and take me home. But no one came.” Faustina started to cry. “No one came.”
“We’ve come now,” said John. And he proceeded to tell her how Nimrod and Philippa had gone to London to recover her body from the wax museum, where she had left it while taking
“I think I’m a good judge of people, I trust, sir,” said Leo.
“That’s a fine answer,” said Mr. Rakshasas. “If you help us, Leo, we’ll do our best to help you when we’re back on the other side. Won’t we, John? You have our word on it. So that you can stop being the Ka servant of that temple back in Manhattan. What do you say?”
“I say all right,” said Leo. “I haven’t got anything to lose. After a hundred and thirty years, I’ve had enough of being a guide.”
“You said that you thought many of those spirits were hiding in that house. From what exactly?”
“It’s like this,” said Leo. “Normally, there are thousands of spirits around. But those were the first spirits we’ve seen since entering the portal. And what’s more, they were hiding.”
“From what?”
“I don’t know. Is it important?”
“It might be.” Mr. Rakshasas shrugged. “Where’s that canoe?”
Leo took them to the canoe. And while they paddled their way up the Hudson River, John and Mr. Rakshasas told him a little about Faustina and a little bit more about being a djinn.
“To have the power to give someone three wishes must be a tremendous responsibility,” said Leo. “But to have threewishes given to you would also require great intelligence to handle well. It is perhaps not always good to receive exactly what you want.”
“Sure, with wisdom like that, you could be a djinn yourself, Leo.”
They reached Bannermann’s Island in the early hours of the morning. Gray dawn was breaking and the creepy-looking gray house in the center of the island was at its most still and quiet, and just as John remembered it. More or less. The grave where he and Dybbuk had buried Felicia’s butler, Max, was now marked by an ape-shaped headstone.
They went into the living room where the remains of a fire were still smoldering in the fireplace, and sat down underneath the black-and-white oil painting of Faustina. To John’s eye, she looked even more like Dybbuk than he remembered. Willful and mischievous. It was hard to believe that the last time he had been in the room she might have been there, too. Invisibly. In spirit. Watching them.
“Do you think we should call out to her?” John asked Mr. Rakshasas.
“If she’s here, she’ll come. Remember, it’s the quiet pig that eats the meal.” Mr. Rakshasas leaned back on the sofa and then yawned. “This was always a fine room for waiting in.”
But they did not have to wait long.
“Who are you?” said a voice. “And would you mind telling me what you’re doing here?”
Faustina was taller than John had supposed from her portrait, and much lovelier. John thought she looked exactly like what she had been on the day her spirit had lifted out of her djinn body: a twelve-year-old girl. And yet he knew that it was twenty-four years since she had been born. Did that make her twenty-four years old? Or just twelve? He very much hoped the latter and felt his heart miss a beat as he stood up and looked into her gray eyes for the first time.
“My name’s John,” he said a little awkwardly. “I’m a friend of your brother, Dybbuk.”
“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?”
“Yes. A few weeks ago.”
“I thought I recognized you.”
“We’ve come to bring you back home,” he said. “So you can regain possession of your body.”
Faustina let out a breath and sat down heavily, opposite her three visitors.
“Don’t you,” John asked anxiously, “want to go home?”
“Always,” she said. “At first, I prayed that someone would come and find me and take me home. But no one came.” Faustina started to cry. “No one came.”
“We’ve come now,” said John. And he proceeded to tell her how Nimrod and Philippa had gone to London to recover her body from the wax museum, where she had left it while taking
Similar Books
