like what the choice is?”
“Why are you asking me this?”
“Curiosity I suppose, but mostly I think I just want to know if I should hate you or not.”
“That is my prison.” The genie nodded to the lamp on the desk. “The rules that I abide by are written in my scrolls. The scrolls are what you should hate. I am merely the enforcer designated to carry out those asinine things. And to answer your question, I do as the scrolls demand because if I don’t I will be tormented.”
“Torture?” Cori asked.
“Yes, though not in the form you might think. Pain is corporeal. The torture I receive is more…cerebral, but it is none the less torture.”
“Why you? What did you do to deserve your prison?”
He chuckled. The sound was merriment and manliness combined. When he had finished he settled his arm on the back of her chair and started stroking his fingers along her temple. The contact didn’t feel flirtatious, but she got the sense that she should still be flattered that he deemed her worthy of the gentle gesture.
“Have you ever caught a firefly in a jar?” He asked. She nodded and closed her eyes to concentrate on his touch. “You thought nothing of it, did you?”
“No, but I always let them go again.”
“Fireflies only live long enough to mate and lay eggs. Hours inside a jar might seem like nothing to you, but an eternity to them.”
“How long do you live?” Cori opened her eyes and saw that he had closed his as well. His almond eyes opened and met her gaze with an auburn iris that in the right light might have seemed red. Though he had no hair to speak of, she imagined he would look unjustly attractive with a mop of messy auburn waves to match his eyes.
“Death is corporeal, but I maintain sentient thought for over one thousand years.”
Cori’s mouth dropped open, not because of shock, but because she had too many competing questions, and she wasn’t sure which one to start with. She pulled her leg up under her and leaned over the arm of her chair. His caress had since stopped, but at some point she stopped being so intent on receiving it. “What happens after one thousand? What were you before the thousand years?”
“I was not aware before, and I will not be aware after, but for now, I am aware, and I have control of my power.”
Cori took in a breath. “What are you? You said you were as close to a god as earth allows. Are you a demi-god?”
“I suppose that’s as good a name as any.”
“But why are you here? Why are you imprisoned? How are you being imprisoned? What’s more powerful than a demi-god? Were you imprisoned by a god, the God, or was it the devil?”
He chuckled again. “I know not of gods and monsters,” he said as if he were quoting a book. “I only know of men, and they are neither; but masquerade so well…as both.”
Cori shook her head in vein trying to make the conclusion she had come to go away. She stood and grabbed the lamp. She was careful to touch only the handle of it, but she was pretty certain that until her situation was settled, she would not be subject to anymore wishes.
She examined the text on it. At first glance she had assumed it was Arabic, but only because she had watched Aladdin too many times growing up. A closer inspection would have left her assuming Egyptian, but there weren’t any birds or dog headed figurines. She racked her brain for the owner of the only other pictographic language she could think of.
She looked back at him. “This is Sumerian isn’t it?” The twinge of surprise on his face answered the question. “How the hell could men bind a demi-god to earth?”
“As I said, I was not self-aware prior to my thousand years. The Sumerians were very talented conjurers. I was bound to that lamp, long before I was ever aware of my own existence.”
Cori carefully set down the lamp again. “Why?”
“Have we come full circle or are we still answering your original question?”
Cori sat back down beside him.
“Why are you asking me this?”
“Curiosity I suppose, but mostly I think I just want to know if I should hate you or not.”
“That is my prison.” The genie nodded to the lamp on the desk. “The rules that I abide by are written in my scrolls. The scrolls are what you should hate. I am merely the enforcer designated to carry out those asinine things. And to answer your question, I do as the scrolls demand because if I don’t I will be tormented.”
“Torture?” Cori asked.
“Yes, though not in the form you might think. Pain is corporeal. The torture I receive is more…cerebral, but it is none the less torture.”
“Why you? What did you do to deserve your prison?”
He chuckled. The sound was merriment and manliness combined. When he had finished he settled his arm on the back of her chair and started stroking his fingers along her temple. The contact didn’t feel flirtatious, but she got the sense that she should still be flattered that he deemed her worthy of the gentle gesture.
“Have you ever caught a firefly in a jar?” He asked. She nodded and closed her eyes to concentrate on his touch. “You thought nothing of it, did you?”
“No, but I always let them go again.”
“Fireflies only live long enough to mate and lay eggs. Hours inside a jar might seem like nothing to you, but an eternity to them.”
“How long do you live?” Cori opened her eyes and saw that he had closed his as well. His almond eyes opened and met her gaze with an auburn iris that in the right light might have seemed red. Though he had no hair to speak of, she imagined he would look unjustly attractive with a mop of messy auburn waves to match his eyes.
“Death is corporeal, but I maintain sentient thought for over one thousand years.”
Cori’s mouth dropped open, not because of shock, but because she had too many competing questions, and she wasn’t sure which one to start with. She pulled her leg up under her and leaned over the arm of her chair. His caress had since stopped, but at some point she stopped being so intent on receiving it. “What happens after one thousand? What were you before the thousand years?”
“I was not aware before, and I will not be aware after, but for now, I am aware, and I have control of my power.”
Cori took in a breath. “What are you? You said you were as close to a god as earth allows. Are you a demi-god?”
“I suppose that’s as good a name as any.”
“But why are you here? Why are you imprisoned? How are you being imprisoned? What’s more powerful than a demi-god? Were you imprisoned by a god, the God, or was it the devil?”
He chuckled again. “I know not of gods and monsters,” he said as if he were quoting a book. “I only know of men, and they are neither; but masquerade so well…as both.”
Cori shook her head in vein trying to make the conclusion she had come to go away. She stood and grabbed the lamp. She was careful to touch only the handle of it, but she was pretty certain that until her situation was settled, she would not be subject to anymore wishes.
She examined the text on it. At first glance she had assumed it was Arabic, but only because she had watched Aladdin too many times growing up. A closer inspection would have left her assuming Egyptian, but there weren’t any birds or dog headed figurines. She racked her brain for the owner of the only other pictographic language she could think of.
She looked back at him. “This is Sumerian isn’t it?” The twinge of surprise on his face answered the question. “How the hell could men bind a demi-god to earth?”
“As I said, I was not self-aware prior to my thousand years. The Sumerians were very talented conjurers. I was bound to that lamp, long before I was ever aware of my own existence.”
Cori carefully set down the lamp again. “Why?”
“Have we come full circle or are we still answering your original question?”
Cori sat back down beside him.
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