The Conjurer (The Vine Witch #3)(48)



And then Yvette understood. Her mouth formed a small O that she covered with one hand as her eyes went to the bottle. “You mean you had it with you all that time?”

“Had what?” Camille was naturally confused, but she wouldn’t find enlightenment from this jinni.

Sidra tucked the bottle in the folds of her caftan, threatened Yvette with death by a thousand fiery ants gnawing at the inside of whatever brains she had left if she said another word, then shimmered into the ether. There had to be one safe place in these infidel lands that wasn’t overrun by fools.





CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE


“She’s right. These markings will help a little, but they won’t stop a full-force attack from a jinni as powerful as Jamra.” Yanis had removed his wooden leg so that he could sit on the floor and move without the hindrance of a limb that wouldn’t bend. Leaning forward, he added the symbol for Venus in the lower right corner of his seven-sided star. Elena handed him the parcel of salt she’d brought so he could sprinkle a handful around the perimeter.

“Isn’t there some way she can stop him?”

“She’s still young, in terms of the life of a jinni,” he added when he saw the doubt in Elena’s eye. “Sidra is centuries old, don’t get me wrong, but her will hasn’t been tested. Not like those who’ve been around for thousands of years, who’ve seen the world turn over again and again.”

“Is that why he was able to bind her inside the city?”

“When was this?”

Elena explained the wish magic she’d been caught up in months earlier while in the city—the tugging at her instinct and the feeling that she’d been swept inside a whirlwind of energy, driving her toward a predestined outcome. “Even Sidra couldn’t resist the pull of her own magic. She’d had no intention of returning to the city, but a stolen wish landed her there anyway. Jamra had set a trap for her should she ever return. Bound her so she was physically and magically unable to leave the city limits.”

“How did she escape? She couldn’t have broken his binding spell on her own.”

“That’s what Jamra said. But she didn’t exactly free herself of the spell. She’s clever, our Sidra. She slipped free by using the protection of Oberon to transport her to the Fée lands. Apparently, changing dimensions is a little stronger magic than a binding spell that confines one to the cross sections of mortal streets.”

Yanis shook his head in disbelief as he shaded in another symbol. “Oberon? As a child I’d been taught the Fée were a myth, characters from stories leftover from antiquity.”

After Elena revealed how she, too, had been raised in ignorance of the existence of jinn, she shared her thoughts on Sidra’s escape. “I can imagine her fiery temper didn’t go over well with the locals in the Fée lands, which may be why Oberon decided to redeposit her here, where she has some history.” She sorted through their remaining items to see which would be of the most help in protecting them from a jinni hell-bent on destroying mankind. “Do you use knots to seal a binding?” she asked and held up the blades of sweetgrass and some string.

“Yes, but also a small ritual using a talisman.” Yanis rubbed his knee as if it pained him. “There is an incantation.”

“Well, that’s it. Why can’t we use the ritual? Bind Jamra within the village or, better yet, something smaller. A vessel of some kind. Isn’t that how it’s done? With an oil lamp or a bottle with a tight-fitting lid?”

Yanis shook his head. “To bind a jinni, you must know their name. Their real name,” he said, holding his finger up to clarify his point. “The name that rises from the fire when they’re born into the world.” He paused then, as if distracted.

“What is it?”

“It’s just the jinn make every effort to protect their true name. Simply because it can be used against them in spells. Jamra would’ve had to have known Sidra’s true name to bind her to the city.”

“Hariq,” she said. “She might have confided such a thing to her husband.”

“Perhaps. But then somehow Jamra got it out of him. Or, if he has an accomplished sorcerer working with him, he could have figured her name out using a code that pairs letters with numbers, such as those found on certain talismans. Sometimes the name is disguised that way. For, while their true name is something they wish to keep secret, it is also a means of invoking their power. But that’s the only way he could have bound her to the city limits. Or any boundary line.”

“So, we can’t trap Jamra without his true name.”

“No. Not unless Sidra knows what it is. Which I doubt, or she would have retaliated already.”

The revelation made sense, even if the news deflated Elena’s brief bout of excitement. She watched as Yanis returned to his drawing. He was absolutely meticulous when it came to his markings. Though he used a humble piece of chalk to draw his symbols, there wasn’t anything sloppy or ambiguous about the lines he made. Everything was deliberate. Neat. Intentional. Which didn’t comport with Sidra’s derisive version of the man, calling him a charlatan and jackal.

“Nothing went wrong, did it? With the potion, I mean. I know I asked earlier, but that was before I saw how dedicated you are to your craft,” Elena said.

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