Rebels of the Lamp, Book 1 (10 page)

“Marisa? Are you home?”

Reese gasped.

“It’s my mom.”

“I thought you said she was at work!” said Parker.

“She came home! She does that after she’s done working!”

Reese popped up and ran to block the door, but it was too late. Her mother pushed the door open.

Reese gasped. “Mom! I can explain!”

Reese’s mother stood in the doorway and took in the scene. Reese knew she was done for. There were two strange boys on her bed and one exceedingly strange man sunk into a beanbag chair
made to fit a ten-year-old girl. And, on top of everything else, Reese was supposed to be studying.

Grounded? No, not grounded. There wasn’t a word for what was going to happen to Reese. Buried, maybe.

“Reese,” said her mother, staring at Theo and Parker. “Who are these boys?”

Reese was surprised that her mother wasn’t more upset.

“Uh...” she said.

“Um, I’m Parker? Parker Quarry? And this is my cousin Theo?”

“And why are you here?”

Theo raised his hand. Parker glared at him and he put it down.

“School project?” Theo said.

“Oh,” said Reese’s mom. “Oh. That’s all right, I suppose.”

She looked at her daughter, who was practically hyperventilating.

“It’s fine, Marisa. You can have friends up here. I just want to know about it.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Reese’s mother looked back at Parker and Theo. “Do you want some carrots or iced tea?”

“No, thank you, Mrs....” Parker started.

“Lorden,” said Reese.

“Mrs. Lorden. Thanks, though.”

“All right. If you want anything, let me know.” She turned to her daughter. “Don’t forget. Viola lesson at six o’clock. Keep the door open, please.”

And just like that, she was gone. She hadn’t seen Fon-Rahm at all.

Reese quietly closed the door behind her.

Theo pointed to Fon-Rahm.

“You’re invisible!” he said.

“I’m not invisible. If needed, I can...encourage people to overlook me for short periods of time. It saps my strength, but it can be done.”

“So...you’re invisible,” said Theo.

“No,” said Parker, fascinated. “People just can’t see him.”

He flopped backward on the bed, knocking a pink pillow onto the floor.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay. So, first, I think we can all agree that this is something we need to keep to ourselves, right? I mean, this is
major
. This is the biggest thing
since...This is the biggest thing that has ever happened to anybody, probably. We can do whatever we want! We can be rich! We can rule the school!”

“I don’t want to rule the school,” said Reese.

“We can be rich!” said Parker.

“Stop,” said Fon-Rahm.

The kids looked at him. Even squashed into a beanbag chair, Fon-Rahm was a commanding figure. His eyes gave off a faint blue light. He was stern and he was scary.

“I am Fon-Rahm, the first of the Jinn. When I was created, the mountains quaked and the skies turned black. I possess the might of ages. My power is a nation without borders. My eyes bring
fear, and my hands, bolts of lightning. I could be the savior of the world or I could be its destroyer. I am not a plaything and I am not to be taken lightly. I will not be used for fun and
trifling novelties.”

Theo and Reese were suitably cowed.

Parker, however, sat up. He nodded thoughtfully at the genie and then broke into a grin.

“So,” he said. “Have you ever heard of a Porsche 911?”

PARKER SKIDDED THE RED PORSCHE
to a halt. Theo was thrown once more across the tiny backseat and into the window.

“Ouch,” said Theo.

Fon-Rahm sat stoically in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead. His new suit fit him perfectly, unwrinkled even after Parker’s insanity behind the wheel.

“You can relax now, guys,” Parker said. “We’re home.”

Well, not exactly home. They were in some bushes in the middle of a field almost a mile behind the Merritts’ house. Reese was already gone, dropped off near enough to her house so that she
could get home on foot, but far enough so that no one she knew would see her get out of a hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar sports car being driven by a seventh grader.

She wasn’t happy about it. It was going to be a long walk.

Parker and Fon-Rahm climbed out of the car, and Theo clawed his way out of the back. Theo was thrilled to be stationary. Until very, very recently, Theo never got carsick. Now he could barely
look at the Porsche without getting dizzy. One more thing to thank his cousin for.

“Look at that!” Parker pointed at the 911. “Not a scratch on it!”

That wasn’t even remotely true. The car was a mess. It was dirty and scratched, and one headlight had exploded when they landed their big jump over the cop prowlers. The jump had also
seriously damaged the suspension, so the Porsche sat a little lower than it was supposed to. These little modifications made the car look like it was exhausted. If it were human, it might have
sighed.

It didn’t really matter. The Porsche was already disappearing, fading out of their existence and back to the Nexus. They could already see through the bumpers. In a few hours the whole car
would be gone, leaving nothing behind besides tire tracks, confused policemen, and the smell of burned rubber.

“It’s a shame we can’t keep it,” Parker said.

“No, it’s not,” said Theo. “You drive like a lunatic.”

“I drive like a NASCAR driver.” Parker turned to Fon-Rahm. “How long is that going to last, anyway? My new abilities, I mean.”

“Days. Perhaps a week,” said Fon-Rahm.

“When it fades away, I suppose there’s nothing to stop me from wishing for it again.”

Fon-Rahm gritted his teeth. “I suppose not.”

“And I can always get another car. A Lambo next time, I think. Or that Mercedes with the gull-wing doors. Of course, there’s no backseat in either of those things....”

“Good,” said Theo.

Parker grinned. He had woken up with, let’s face it, not a whole lot going for him. Now, here it was, less than ten hours later, and everything had changed. Everything he ever wanted was
his for the asking or, more accurately, the wishing. From now on, things were going to go his way. He was exhilarated.

He was also wiped out.

“Let’s go home,” he said.

“Yeah, about that.” Theo gestured to Fon-Rahm. “What are we supposed to do with him?”

“Way ahead of you, buddy. I got it all figured out.”

Moments later, Parker, Theo, and Fon-Rahm were standing in the Merritts’ old barn. At one time it had housed an imposing wooden cider press, and the sweet smell of apples still hung in the
air. Now the barn was a catchall toolshed for Theo’s dad. It was filled with long-handled rakes and pitchforks. There was a stocked workbench holding just about any kind of a tool you could
possibly need, along with a half-finished remote-control plane that Theo’s dad had tried and failed to get his son interested in. There was also a forty-year-old tractor that ran most of the
time and a box of Christmas decorations that hadn’t been touched in a decade.

Parker showed Fon-Rahm to an empty space in the corner.

“I guess you can sleep over here.”

The genie stared through him. “I need no sleep,” he said.

“Okay,” said Parker. “Well, if you get hungry, I could leave you some...”

“I need no food.”

“Water? Oxygen?”

“I am not alive in the way that you are alive. I am a creature of magic. You are merely flesh and bone.”

“Yeah, well, I’m the boss of you.”

“I’m going in,” said Theo, looking warily at Fon-Rahm. “Are you sure he’s going to be all right out here?”

“He’ll be fine,” said Parker. “He’s a creature of magic.”

Theo closed the barn door on his way out.

Parker yawned. “Okay, Fon-Rahm, get some rest. I have a lot planned for you and me.”

“You try my patience, child. I am Fon-Rahm of the Jinn, not a toy.”

“Whatever you say, Rommy old pal.”

Parker put his hand on the barn door, but he stopped himself from opening it. He paused for a moment before turning back to the genie.

“What was it like? When you were in the lamp?” he asked.

Fon-Rahm contemplated this.

“It was like a dream,” he said. “I could feel the centuries as they passed, but time itself was meaningless to me. It was, perhaps, like it was for you, before you were
born.”

The genie looked deep in thought.

“Now I find myself far from home, and in a world I do not fully understand. It is...” He searched for the word. “Difficult.”

Parker knew the feeling. He was far from home himself, and often felt like he would never truly fit in.

He shook it off. He had an image to maintain.

“See you in the morning,” he said. “Try not to destroy the world.”

“You don’t have much faith in me.”

“That’s true, but I wouldn’t take it personally. I don’t have much faith in anybody.”

“Relying on others is not a sign of weakness. It is a sign of strength.”

Parker shrugged.

“Huh. Well, great. I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

Fon-Rahm stood in his corner, his arms folded against his chest, as Parker walked outside and closed the barn door.

As he made his way to the house, Parker was struck with a sudden dull ache behind his eyes. He stopped and closed his eyes tight. The pain didn’t go away. A headache, thought Parker;
uncomfortable but nothing to worry about. If it got any worse he could always have Fon-Rahm conjure up some Advil.

He walked into the house through the kitchen door. Something was bubbling on the stove, and the whole house smelled like mashed potatoes. Parker pulled the lid off a pot to see what was inside,
and he saw his aunt Martha sitting alone at the set table in the next room. She was Parker’s mother’s younger sister, but Parker thought she looked older. Her back was to him and she
was talking on an old cordless phone.

“Why not?” she said. “When?”

She pulled absently at one of her apron strings.

“Well, get somebody else to do the double shift! He’s expecting you to be here. I mean, it’s Thanksgiving....”

She turned her head to see Parker in the doorway.

“Oh! Parker!” She was suddenly all smiles. “Your mother’s on the phone. Would you like to talk to her?”

Parker turned on his heels and walked away. He wasn’t interested in hearing any more of his mother’s excuses.

“Parker?”

Parker walked up the stairs to wait for dinner. His head was killing him.

THE ICE STRETCHED FOR MILES
in every direction, and a freezing wind cut through the barren plain. There were no trees or mountains or houses. The
night held nothing but snow and the promise of a cold, cold death. It was forty degrees below zero.

The ice crunched under Nadir’s boots as he stepped onto the tundra. He had been in the country for less than an hour. It had taken four flights to get to Greenland and, as he had slit the
throats of the two Path members who were with him in New Hampshire, he had made the trip alone. The men proved worthless in the fight with Fon-Rahm. Worse, if they had survived they would have told
their brothers in the Path about the fiasco, and Nadir could not let that happen. It would undermine his authority. It would show weakness.

He was angry with himself for losing Fon-Rahm. If he could have taken possession of the lamp, unopened, things would have gone much easier. Now the first of the Jinn was free and would have to
be dealt with accordingly.

Nadir was not worried. Fon-Rahm was bound to a child. It would be no great challenge to defeat him.

Especially since the discovery here.

In the near distance, six men stood in a circle. They were bundled up in boots and thick gloves and coats with fur hoods. They carried picks and shovels, and one had a chain saw. As Nadir
approached them, he could see their breath in the air and he could hear their teeth chatter.

The men stepped aside so Nadir could see what they had found.

It was a block of ice the size of a refrigerator, cut from the ground nearby. Inside, Nadir could make out some dark object.

Nadir pulled the guiding tablet from a bag on his shoulder. The metal plates on its face slowly worked themselves into a new pattern. The arrow pointed directly at the frozen object. Nadir put
the tablet away and nodded. He stepped back as one of the men started the chain saw and cut into the block of ice.

When the lamp was free, two of the men placed it on a low stone altar set up on the ice. Nadir ran his hands over the metal cylinder. At last, his destiny was to be fulfilled.

Nadir raised his hand slowly and pointed to one of the men. The man nodded solemnly and stepped forward. He stripped off his winter clothes and donned a purple robe covered in ancient runes.
Shivering, he knelt before the altar. He offered up a silent prayer and placed his trembling hands on the lamp. He twisted the ends first one way, and then another, until there was an audible pop
and the hiss of escaping gas.

The man’s face flooded with fear. The lamp opened with a roar and a storm of orange flame. Instantly, the sky was ablaze. The men turned away, their eyes burning. Some fell as the ground
melted beneath their feet. Only Nadir kept his gaze fixed on the hurricane of fire in their midst.

The fire died down. Again the air was calm. When the smoke lifted, the genie Xaru hovered above the altar. His features were sharper than Fon-Rahm’s, and where Fon-Rahm’s robes were
black, Xaru wore a brilliant crimson. He was like a more feral version of his older brother. At the sight of him, the men of the Path threw themselves to the ground in worship.

The man kneeling at the altar looked to the reborn genie, terrified. Xaru peered down at him, suppressing a sneer.

“You have freed me from my prison,” he said. “You have my eternal gratitude.”

The man simply whimpered.

Xaru looked to Nadir, power recognizing power.

“Of course, I am now bound by magic to do this man’s bidding, and I am prevented from causing him any harm. While he lives, I am nothing but a slave.”