think that’s about it. Clearer now? Oh, and the lamp doesn’t appear to anyone. It decides who it goes to.”
Ben was still caught up in the wish thing. “What if I say something without thinking, like, I wish it would rain? Would that be a wish?” He frowned thoughtfully. “I’d hate to waste one.”
Daeliel rolled his eyes. “No, we have safeguards against that kind of thing happening. Back in the days when we were still fairly new at this thing, one of my forebears had to produce a whole menagerie of elephants with wings for some fool, and the shitstorm that rained down from the skies was worse than one of the plagues of Egypt.” He shuddered and so did Ben, imagining huge pats of foul-smelling elephant poop falling from above. “So now a person has to say first, ‘Oh Djinn of the lamp, please grant me my wish’ and then proceed to tell me what they desire.”
Ben nodded sagely. His dream guy was sensible. He approved. “Oh, well, that sounds easy enough. Do I get three wishes then?”
Tess snuffled and lay back down to sleep, crowding Ben as she did, taking up most of the bed.
Daeliel’s beautiful face tensed. “That’s an urban legend caused by your culture of misappropriating the Djinn community and twisting it to your ends. You get two wishes. That’s it. A Djinn may approve a third one, but that’s only done in extreme circumstances.” He sniffed haughtily. “I’ve never found a human being worth granting the third wish yet. I have no doubt you’ll be of the same ilk.”
“Wow, that’s a bit harsh,” Ben stated, leaning forward, waving an arm. The bedcover fell away, revealing more of him. Daeliel didn’t seem to mind, given the narrowing of his eyes and the slide of a pink tongue across his lips. “You don’t even know me.”
Daeliel snorted. “Please. I’ve been around three hundred years in human terms, lived through the Boer War, famines, floods, the rise of the Cold War, and Chernobyl. You humans haven’t yet once disabused me of my convictions. The eternal aim for each one of you is the premise of me, me, me.” His purplish eyes darkened. “You can’t imagine what I’ve seen.”
Ben leaned back against the headboard. “I understand there are some bad people out there. I’m one of those who likes to believe the best in people. Look at Pasteur, Mother Theresa, Christian Barnard, and those who developed vaccines for fatal diseases. What about all those people who lost their lives saving others, as they did in nine-eleven.”
Daeliel didn’t look convinced. One eyebrow raised haughtily.
“Oh, and Elvis Presley,” Ben garbled. “I mean, come on. The man was a legend.”
Daeliel looked at him in pity. “Have you ever gone onto Wikipedia and Googled ‘history of the past three hundred years’? Take a look at the time line. There may be one or two snippets of good news in there, but overall, it looks like a fucking disaster zone for the ages.”
The Djinn stood up and stretched, allowing Ben a glimpse of his taut stomach, a fine line of dark hair leading into his slinky pants. “Forgive me if I seem disillusioned. It’s because I am.” The last words were said bitterly, and the sassy man Ben was starting to like evolved into a darker version.
“Well, I suppose if you’re as old as you say, you have seen some of the worst the world has to offer.” Ben pulled the bed cover farther up his chest, feeling rather vulnerable under the genie’s piercing purple gaze. “So, what happens now? I go back to sleep, and you’ll be gone in the morning?” He snuggled down best he could with the space Tess had left him.
Daeliel flapped a hand. “Whatever. You are a hard man to convince, aren’t you?” He stretched, a lithe, fluid movement that made Ben’s mouth dry up. “Do you have a spare bedroom? I suppose I should make myself at home.” He sniffed. “I hope it’s large enough for all my stuff.”
“Your stuff?” Ben said. “What stuff?” He looked around the room but didn’t see anything lurking.
Daeliel huffed. “You’ll see. Now, where’s my room?”
Ben blinked. He supposed he’d play along with his dream a little longer. “It’s next door to mine. I use it for storage, but there’s a bed in there, and some other stuff. You might have to move it around a bit.” There was a bed in there somewhere, he knew. The room had become something of a