Djinn (25 page)

"So, what's a fine Djinn such as yourself doing in a place like this?" Pyke said. "Besides chasing runaway mutts."

"Just wandering really," I admitted. "What about you?" I glanced at the lavender flowers in Pyke's hand. "Visiting?"

Pyke's face shifted and paled. "Yeah," he said, "visiting."

He gazed off for a moment, before shaking it off. "Come on," he said. "There's someone I want you to meet."

I trailed behind while Keisuke stayed close to Pyke's side. I wondered if Keisuke had sensed another dog's pain and wanted to help.

As Pyke walked, it seemed to get harder and harder for him, like something was holding him down, trying to stop him. We passed another archway, separating one part of the cemetery from the rest. Writing was carved into the metal above the arch, but it wasn't in English, so I had no idea what it said.

It felt like we were in the heart of the cemetery, and a heavy, musky scent weighed down on me. The graves here were different from the Greenwoods'. These graves shone with polished stone, green grass and colourful flowers. These graves were cared for; these people were loved.

Pyke stopped in front of a large tombstone. It was twice the size of the others, with a statue of a large Dobermann on the top. Pyke brushed some fallen leaves off the Dobermann's stone nose, his hand lingering before dropping away.

"Kyra," he said with a sad smile. "This is Dad."

He stepped aside so I could see the grave in full: a rectangular headstone with the Dobermann on top. The stone was a stunning and polished, with no hint of weeds of neglect. I caught a glimpse of the writing on the headstone.

"Grant Danvers. Loving father and husband. Guardjinn," I read and I raised my eyebrow.

"The last part surprises you," Pyke guessed.

"No. I mean maybe. I just …"

"It's alright. I don't expect you to get it." Pyke rubbed Keisuke's ears while he sniffed the ground.

"You're wrong," I replied. "I know you're proud to be Guardjinn. I just don't understand why you're proud of it."

Pyke shook his head, as if I were a silly girl who didn't understand the world. I suppose I really didn't understand anything anymore, but I was trying.

"Explain it to me," I said. "Help me understand."

"You see Guardjinn as slaves," he said.

"You are slaves—"

Pyke raised a hand to stop me and I shut my mouth.

"Sorry."

"Like I said, you think we're slaves, and the reality is, we are. We're seen as servants in the eyes of other Djinn, but it's been that way for thousands of years. But Guardjinn are warriors." The word "warriors" was thick with pride.

"Warriors?"

"In the beginning, Guardjinn were part of the royal armies. They fought with strength and honor."

"But not now."

Pyke's head fell. "No, not anymore. Times changed. There was no need for armies when the Djinn locked themselves in gated communities, so we put down our weapons and became babysitters for Djinn, who preferred to spend their time arguing amongst themselves rather than face the dangers outside."

Pyke placed the lavender at the foot of the grave and fingered the carved words. "My dad always believed in fighting for the Djinn, protecting them from anything that threatened them. He died fighting. He died a hero."

I could see the tears running down Pyke's cheeks, but pretended not to notice, for his sake. Pyke played up his bad boy persona but here, in this place, in front of his father's grave, he could be himself. I saw Pyke in a new light. He was more than the guy who'd kidnapped me, who played jokes and pretended not to care.

Keisuke licked Pyke's face and made whimpering sounds, as if sharing his pain. I placed my hand on his shoulder and crouched beside him.

"You take after him," I said. "That's why you were so angry at my—at Malcolm. You were protecting me."

Pyke's fists clenched, knuckles white.

"Yeah," he said. "That's why."

He stood abruptly and turned his back to the grave.

"We should head back," he said.

"Sure," I replied, wondering why he wanted to leave so fast, but I didn't want to push something he clearly was uncomfortable with. "Lead the way."

Chapter Twenty-Four

"We're running out of normal abilities to test," Millie sighed, leaning against the back wall of the training room. Her skin was flickering from skin colour to the same shade as the wall behind her.

"Millie, your camouflage is kicking in," Nate warned.

"Oh!" Millie jumped away from the wall, held her arms out and focused, until they went back to normal. "There, much better. That always happens when I'm stressed," she said.

"Sorry to be stressing you," I said, slumping my shoulders as I sat against the wall—no colour change included.

Training was going horribly again. Whatever spirits Pyke had managed to raise in me had fallen flat once more. The whole morning had been one failed test after another. Nothing came to me, nothing felt any different. I buried my face in my hands and sighed.

"Oh, Kyra. I'm sorry," Millie said, embracing me in a crouched hug. "I didn't mean it like that. I mean, I am stressed, but it has nothing to do with you. I know how hard it can be to find your ability."

I waved her off. "It's fine, Millie. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm stressed, too."

Millie stopped rambling and took a deep breath. "Don't worry," she said. "You'll get it eventually."

I groaned even louder. I wished people would stop saying that. I didn't want eventually, I wanted now.

Millie detached herself from me and fist-pumped the air, as if that would somehow jumpstart me into a better mood.

"Millie's right," Nate said, placing his arm around my shoulders. "You
will
get this. Everyone finds their ability."

"But I want it now," I moaned, like a two-year-old in a toy store. Millie and Nate laughed, which made me laugh too.

"Okay," I said, feeling more energised again. "What's next?"

Seth stood at little way off from us, making tennis balls float in the air with his mind. He was always with us, but it never felt like he was entirely there. Seth seemed to prefer his own thoughts to actual people.

I wonder if that's how people used to see me?
I hardly talked to other people when I was with Malcolm, but that didn't mean I didn't want to. Perhaps Seth did want to talk and be friendly, but he didn't know how.

"Maybe we should take a break and focus on our own abilities," Seth suggested, eyes still focused on the tennis balls.

"Seth, we're helping Kyra," Millie replied, shaking her head.

"No, he's right," I said. "You guys practice your abilities. I'd love to see them in action, and I need a break anyway."

"All right," Nate agreed and moved to the middle of the room. "Millie," he called.

She nodded, and blue veins rippled through the skin around her eyes as she took off into the air like a balloon, gliding up to the ceiling. Once high enough she called down, "Ready."

Seth and Nate stood below her. Seth had a basket of tennis balls and Nate a candle.

"Okay, go!" Nate shouted.

Seth started shooting off tennis balls toward Millie, who floated side to side, out of their way. It was like a dance where Millie was the star and, of course, she looked beautiful. She darted with grace, never letting a single ball hit her.

Nate flicked his hand over the candle's flame, gathering it in the palm of his hand like he was simply taking an apple from a table. The flame danced on his fingers, the low glow reflected in his golden eyes. The blue veins around his eyes were like cracking plaster, and Nate thrust his hand out, sending the flame in small bursts that lit the flying tennis balls alight. The flaming balls were supposed to add danger, but with Millie in the air and a light display surrounding her, I could only gaze up in amazement.

The whole show went on for about an hour. Seth would move things with his mind, Millie would fly around and Nate would set things on fire. It was a practiced routine, but clearly they were in control of their abilities, and a twinge of jealousy prickled my skin. I wanted so much to be with them now, practicing alongside them, knowing I had nothing to fear because my ability was a part of me.

Nate offered to help me again, but I was too frustrated to keep going.

"I'll be late to training tomorrow," Nate finally said, extinguishing the flaming tennis balls with a sweep of his hand. "I have some princely duties to attend to.

"No problem," Millie replied with a smile.

"I'll just keep trying," I said, but it was hard to sound convincing.

Seth just nodded and left the room. Millie started rambling to Nate, asking him about his princely duties, so I didn't bother to say goodbye. I grabbed my drink bottle, took a swig and headed out the door after Seth. I'd been meaning to talk to him about my abilities. Maybe he could give me more insight in to what they might be.

"Hey, Kyra," Millie called from across the room.

I stopped in my tracks as Millie ran up and looped her arm in mine. She squeezed it affectionately, and gave a quick wave to Nate before leading me out the door.

"I was wondering if you wanted to come over to mine and have a girl's day," she said with hopeful eyes.

"Ah, Millie, that sounds nice but—" I saw the hope fade from her eyes. "—it's just, that I've never had a girl's day before or, well, a girlfriend."

Millie laughed. "Kyra, have you seen the people I hang out with? They're all boys," she said.

"Really?" I asked. "I just figured you saw other friends outside of training."

She shook her head. "The four of us are the only Djinn of our age who have abilities. Everyone else is too young, has already mastered them, or is Guardjinn."

I stared at her for a moment, gobsmacked. "You're serious? We're the only Djinn training?"

"Millie's right," Nate said, jogging over and matching our stride. "More and more Djinn are becoming Guardjinn every year."

"How come?"

"We're not sure. We used to wait a year after our abilities manifested before doing the Guardjinn test, but now they do it as early as possible. Most Djinn have a dog as a pet, so when the kids were old enough, parents would make their kids touch the dog to be sure."

"And then they get shunned," I mumbled, thinking about my parents giving my Keisuke.

"Unfortunately yes," Nate continued, "but that's something the queen and I are working on. We want Guardjinn to have equal rights."

"But no one agrees with you," I said, Ivan's face flashing in my mind.

"Don't worry about it," Nate said, patting my shoulder. "You can worry about politics later. Just focus on your ability."

Nate walked up the grand staircase, leaving Millie and I in the foyer. It was hard not to get involved in Djinn politics when I disagreed with almost everything I'd learned about them. Their culture was harsh and old, like most of the council, really. They needed a new perspective, and I hoped Nate would be the one to show it to them. I shook my head, and Millie gave me a worried look.

"Are you alright?" she asked, squeezing my arm again. I really did need to stop worrying about politics and abilities … and well everything.

"Millie," I said, "I'd love to come over."

Her eyes lit up. She held her clenched fists close to her mouth, and couldn't stop smiling. A high-pitched squeak escaped her lips, but she stopped it from becoming a full-blown squeal just in time. Millie was beyond excited, and I was happy for the distraction.

* * *

Millie's house was on the other side of the compound. I mostly kept quiet as we walked, which was fine, because Millie rambled like a word machine to fill the silence.

"It's so wonderful to have a girl to talk to," she said, as we arrived at the front of her house. It looked pretty identical to mine, though all the houses in the middle ring looked the same to me: same thick wooden doors, same grey-slated roof, same arched windows.

"Come on in," she invited, opening the door.

Millie's house, though structurally looking the same as mine, was very different. It was less full of artefacts and expensive antiques, and more decorated with personal items. There were photos of Millie and her parents as Millie was growing, baby through till now, that lined the walls. Everywhere I looked, it was like their family's entire life was on display.

"I know what you're thinking," she said, closing the door behind us. "My house is a museum."

"I think it's nice. It's a lot more friendly than my house."

"My parents are really proud of me, you know. They like showing me off."

Millie made it sound like a pain, but I could tell she really loved them. She lightly fingered the frame of a picture with her and her mother in it that looked maybe a year old.