“When it rains, it pours,” I said. I opened the door and gasped. There, in front of me, was a very tall man with long black hair pulled back in a ponytail, and his eyes were hazel brown and twinkling. “Rameer! What are you doing here?” Instinctively, I reached out to hug him.
Rameer laughed and gave me a peck on the cheek, then followed me back into the house, where all conversation stopped.
“Rameer, my man! You’re back!” Tad reached out his hand.
Rameer shook his hand, then gave a friendly nod to Caitlin, Rowan, and Teran. He had met them during the time he had stayed with me. Rameer was a djinn, whom Ari and I had summoned in a drunken spell for my birthday the year before. I hadn’t realized until later that I had claimed three wishes off of him, but the whole affair had been a chaotic mess until we managed to sort everything out. I had subsequently helped free him to go back to his own realm—the realm of fire—and in September, I had received a postcard from him. He was back in our realm, this time on vacation.
“Sit down. Last I remember, you were on vacation?” I asked, tugging on his hand.
He laughed. “Slow down, woman. Yes, I’m finishing up a long vacation. I visited all over, and I’m on my way home after I leave here, but I couldn’t go without dropping in to say hello to the woman who helped me find my bottle and set me free.”
“Where have you been traveling?” I said. “I got your postcards from Iceland and from Finland, but you’ve covered a lot of terrain since then, I bet.”
Rameer looked around. “You’ve redecorated. Renovated, even.” He sat down in the recliner. He was incredibly tall, and incredibly handsome in that roguish sort of way. “I mostly covered the northern European countries. I’ve never been there and I was curious what it was like, especially going into the winter months. I traveled like mortals—via the train, mostly, so I could experience the scenery. It was incredible and I have a warehouse of memories tucked away.” He paused, then added, “Oh, I brought you a present from Iceland!” He opened his backpack and pulled out a gift-wrapped box about the size of a bracelet and handed it to me.
I unwrapped it, wondering what he could have found for me. Inside was a smooth leather box with a hinged lid. I opened it to find a pen lying there. The barrel was made out of a dark wood—black—but it didn’t look painted. As I picked it up, a tingle ran through my fingers.
“This is beautiful, Rameer. Thank you.” I paused, disconcerted by the tingles that reverberated through my fingers and hand. “This is magical, isn’t it?”
He beamed. “Yes, I got it from a witch who makes them. He got the wood from the elves who live on the island. It’s bog oak—and the wood is over four thousand years old.”
I examined the pen. It was a beautiful work of art, turned perfectly, and the bronze metal fittings were well placed, making it look like an elegant antique. Of course, given the age of the wood, the pen was old—ancient, in fact. I handed it to my grandmother. “Feel this.”
Rowan’s eyes widened as she took hold of it. “This has magic, indeed. My guess is the witch who fashioned it has at least as much power as I do.”
Rameer glanced at her and I remembered he had never met Rowan. “Rameer, this is my grandmother, Rowan Firesong. Rowan, remember, I told you about Rameer?”
She held out her hand and he shook it. “I do remember. Well-met, Master Rameer.”
He inclined his head. “Mistress Firesong. And yes, the witch who made this is very powerful and he works with the element of water. He can charm the elementals into bringing him the best wood from the bogs. He routinely travels along the peat bog line every few years to gather more wood, which he turns into pens and wands and walking sticks.”
There was a noise from the stairs and I jumped as Tarvish appeared. He stared at Rameer, knitting his brow, which, with all the lumps on it, looked terribly strange.
“What manner of creature are you?” he asked.
I grabbed Rameer’s arm, warning him not to answer. “This is a friend of mine, Tarvish. He’s in town for a brief time. What did you need?”
Tarvish glanced at Rameer again, then shrugged and said, “I was wondering if you have any cocoa.”
Caitlin jumped up. “I’ll bring you some. Go back up to your room, and I’ll bring you hot cocoa in a few minutes.”
“With marshmallows?” Tarvish asked.
“I’ll see if January has any.”
And with that, Tarvish turned and headed back up the steps.
Caitlin turned to me. “You have any marshmallows?”
“Of course. In the cupboard where I keep the chips.” I turned to Rameer. “I seem to have a problem.”
“It looks like it. What’s going on?” Rameer glanced at the stairs.
I explained what had happened. “I’m pretty certain that he’d recognize the term ‘djinn’ and make a beeline for you, given in D&D, djinns can be very chaotic and problematic.”
“Our reputations got trashed by that game,” Rameer said. “However, it’s also somewhat true. We can be a pain in the ass when we want to be.” He glanced at the clock. “I wish I could stay but I’m headed home. I wish I could fix your demon problem for you, but I think I would end up making it worse.” He stood and gave me a hug. “Take care of yourself, witchy woman. I’ll come back and visit again as soon as I can.”
And with that, he bade farewell to everyone else. Without another word, he picked up his backpack and vanished from sight.
“Wait—I need to know about the pen,” I said, but I was too late. I sat down, frowning. “He lights up a room, doesn’t he?”
Tad spoke up. “I appreciate the help he gave Conjure Ink. Thanks to you, we have the only bonafide pictures of a djinn.”
My interview with Rameer had resulted in Conjure Ink having the only verifiable interview and photographs of an actual djinn. Rameer had agreed to meet with Professor Jamil Madison, a worldwide expert on Crypto species, and he had authenticated Rameer’s status. I had put Conjure Web in the history books for that.
Caitlin returned, large mug of cocoa in hand. She headed up the stairs. As she passed us, I turned back to the others. “That leaves us with the problem of Tarvish. What do we do with him? How do we get rid of him?”
“Can you banish him?” Teran asked Rowan.
Rowan shook her head. “No, not really. The spells that work on demons or ghosts don’t work on thought-forms. While Tarvish appears to us as a demon, since he was created by thought, there’s a difference in energy. It’s like a lab-created gemstone. Yes, the structure is the same as a natural specimen, but there’s a subtle difference in vibration. The energy is different.”
“Why is he trapped inside my house? It frightens me that he can’t get out. I have no clue what to do.” I glanced at the clock. “Oh crap, the Witches Guild meets in half an hour. I have to get ready.” I dashed upstairs, leaving them below.
A few moments later I was slipping into a nice pair of jeans and had chosen a V-neck sweater when the door opened and Killian popped his head in the room.
“Can I come in?”
“Of course,” I said, motioning for him to join me. I wondered if they had broken the news to him, but by his jovial manner, I had the feeling—probably not. “Did they tell you about my house guest?”