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“It is all I need. That, in turn, feeds me. I apologize if I overstepped before. I will make no moves again unless you explicitly request so, master.”
“Jeffrey. You can call me Jeffrey.”
“I am Odai, Jeffrey.” He bows his head. “Here to grant your every desire.”
Wow. I keep thinking that word, but wow. Maybe there is a little purple in his eyes still, a faint hint of it in their dark color.
I’ve never really played that game of wondering what I’d do if I found a genie or won the lottery. All I’ve wanted lately is to stay here, keep doing the tours, and forget people like Mrs. Sherman exist.
Mrs. Sherman!
“What did you do to her?” I demand as I remember she vanished.
“The unpleasant woman? She had a change of heart and strode immediately back to her own building. All you wished for was that she go away. So she did.”
Not Wishmaster then. She went home. She didn’t, like, implode or anything.
“However, Jeffrey, if such a suggestion would ever be too much against someone’s nature or put them in direct harm—such as to command them to dive in front of a galloping horse or one of those new vehicles I saw outside—I am afraid my influence would be ineffective. Where my powers can penetrate, I will always find a way to grant what is asked of me.”
“Okay. So, for argument’s sake, could I… wish for this building to become a castle?”
“No.” He chuckles. “While I can conjure things, I cannot grant something that might call attention to my existence.”
“Oh. That’s smart!”
“Thank you.” He bows his head again.
“It makes way more sense than most wish logic. Getting Mrs. Sherman to go home, that wasn’t too hard, because she was about to leave anyway, but you probably couldn’t, say, get someone to no longer want to buy this place if they really wanted to buy it?”
“Likely not.”
I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. “Some people want to buy this building, demolish it, and smooth away all its history. I don’t want them to. I wish to find a way to keep this place intact so I can stay here.”
“Then I shall help you however I can.”
This is real. This is really happening. But there is still plenty I don’t know, and I can’t shake that it feels too good to be true.
Mattie died young. She didn’t get much of a happy ending. Why would she lock him up, thinking she’d never need another wish?
“Can I ask why you want a master? You get something out of this too, okay, but the amulet makes it feel like you’re chained to it the same way you were chained downstairs. Like you’re trapped.”
For the first time besides a little confusion over a movie title, his brow crinkles with concern. “To answer that, you will need to ask the right questions.”
“What do you mean?”
“My magic binds me from saying more.”
“Then you really are a genie. A djinn. There are rules and consequences, but you can’t outright tell me what all of them are, huh?”
“Correct. You are very wise, Jeffrey. My past masters and mistresses sometimes went weeks without questioning what comes next.”
“Next? After I make wishes, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“Are there limits to how many?”
“No.”
