Djinn and Tonic (32 page)

Authors: Jasinda Wilder

BOOK: Djinn and Tonic

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I touch my finger to the metal square of the lock plate and picture liquid wicking out of my body, liquid being pulled out of the air around me and being poured into the lock, into the substance of the door itself. I picture the liquid spreading and growing and expanding, pushing the cogs of the lock and the particles of the metal and the grain of the wood, filling the spaces between molecules until there is no more space at all and then expanding still more, pushing and pushing and pushing to breaking…

There is a deafening crack and an explosion of wood, water, and metal, and then the door is simply gone in a shower of splinters and warm rain. The currents vanish as I release my hold on the tendril of power.

I laugh and clap my hand over my mouth in surprise. “I might have overdone that a little,” I say out loud to the empty room and hallway.

There’s no sign anyone noticed the sound, as my room is on the opposite side of the house from nearly everything else except Father’s study on the level below, and at this time of night he would be in the parlor with Mother, smoking his English pipe and reading his English newspaper.

Tiptoeing quietly, I make my way down the empty hallway to the stairs, emerging in the darkened kitchen. Father has already dismissed the cooks. I see a round loaf of bread on the counter, snatch it up, tear a huge hunk free and shove it into my mouth, swallowing hastily. After another hurried bite I force myself to slow down; no need to eat like a pig, I remind myself.

Then a thought strikes me: why be content with a little bread, when I can have more? I’ve already destroyed my door and snuck out of my room, so why not go further? Trouble is already mine simply for daring to use my powers unsupervised and for breaking my door. Sneaking downstairs is another sin, and thus encumbered by trouble I may as well have a bit of freedom until I’m caught and punished like the child Father obviously considers me to be. A long knife perches in a block on the counter and I use it to cut a piece of bread free, then pocket the knife in the folds of my voluminous black dress, careful to keep the point away from my body.

I’ll need money, though, if I’m going to have any fun.

Father’s study is silent and dark, lit only by the red-orange glow of sunset through the window. His desk is an immaculate expanse of polished wood, a neat pile of papers in one corner, a few ornate silver pens in a crystal glass in the other corner. A search of the drawers reveals a case containing a brace of pistols, a curved ceremonial dagger in an elaborate gold-chased sheath, and a metal canister of pipe tobacco. And then, most importantly, I find a clinking pile of
gineih
coins in a little leather bag at the back of the bottommost drawer. I’ve never had cause to use money myself, as Father has always provided everything I need, so I have no idea how much I’ll need or what I would do with it. Panic and guilt gurgle in my belly like bile as I take four of the heavy coins, clutching them in my trembling fist. I cinch the leather bag closed and slide the drawer shut, flinching at the dull thud it makes as it closes.

The window slides open with a gentle squeal, causing me to freeze in place before contorting my body through the opening. Once through and crouching on the ground outside, I slide the window shut once more, my heart hammering in my chest, pounding so loudly I’m sure Father will be able to hear it from within the house.

Waiting until I’m sure I’ve gone undetected, I creep out into the street, glancing around me nervously. I pull my veil into place across my face and make my way through the darkness, winding my way from the heights where the wealthy reside down into the city’s pulsing, uneasy heart. The weight of fear clutching my heart bubbles, boils, and evaporates, replaced by a thrilling glut of excitement.

I am on my own for the first time in my life, alone, free, and ready for adventure in the lights and bustle of Alexandria.

Djinn and Juice,
coming soon

Jasinda Wilder

Visit me at my website:
www.jasindawilder.com

Email me:

[email protected]

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