Chapter 8

“Not precisely, but I’ve essentially exhausted my magic for the moment.”

“Oh. I asked too much.”

“Not any one thing, but overall yes. I need to go back to the box to recharge,” Riadh said.

“Okay. Can I ask for how long?”

Riadh glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. “Three maybe four in the morning…” He faded into a wisp of smoke that ascended through a vent in the ceiling and was gone.

Dale stood alone in the kitchen, wishing the djinn came with an owner’s manual and feeling vaguely guilty for not thinking ahead to ask how much Riadh could do at one time.

* * * *

Morning came slowly for Dale. He had snagged a few hours of completely broken sleep then given up and returned to hunting for the elusive fountain pen. A knock on the front door grabbed his attention. When he opened it, it was his cousin Carol.

“Hey, I’m just checking in to see if you’ve torn all your hair out yet,” said Carol.

“Eh, not yet, but there are moments. Come in.”