The sun rose in a glory of reds and pinks, touching the edges of the clouds and then infusing them with color, as though magical inkwells had tipped and the colors spread across the sky. That was what the boy saw as he stared, wishing the morning would hold still here and that he could sit a while longer.
He was weary. Weary of the journey and weary of life. He thought that was probably a sad admission for someone who had not yet seen sixteen years. But they had been hard years.
"Up, you damned lazy child!" His uncle came and grabbed him by the arm, yanking him upwards as though he had not already been moving to obey. "Get to your work! Do I need to push you every day? Gods, that your parents died and saddled me with such a useless child --"
Tolin had heard those words, and sometimes worse, every day since the magistrate delivered him over to his late father's brother. The man and his wife had not been pleased at first. Now they reveled in having a boy to do the work. They never said slave, but Tolin knew the truth of his condition.
"Get down to the stream and fetch the water!"
He didn't argue, since that would only prolong contact with the two. Far better to take the jug and head for the stream and savor the few more moments of peace he could steal there.
They had camped on the high ground in a ruined cottage with a wall to protect them from the wind. Tolin had slept outside with the horse and carriage.
He had not expected to find someone camped by the stream; a man with long black hair and a fine red cloak. The stranger also had a very fine sorrel mount that was so well trained that the animal hadn't made a sound since they had made camp.
"They're not much for politeness or quiet, are they?" The man asked with an amused smile.
"No, sir, they aren't," Tolin agreed, though quietly. Uncle would raise hell if he saw Tolin talking to a stranger. He'd accused the boy of giving away secrets, as though there could be anything of worth in their dull, insignificant lives.
Tolin had gone to the stream and carefully filled the jug, very much aware of the man's eyes watching his every move. He likely thought him a thief, so Tolin gave him no reason to worry. He filled the jug and hefted it back up the incline, giving the man a quick bow of his head as he went past. Then he hiked back up the hill, listening to Aunt and Uncle argue. Tolin grabbed a second jug and moved past fallen brick walls, happy to get clear of them that easily.
Tolin hadn't expected it to be the last time he saw them.
The stranger had already packed his camp and was leading another horse up beside his own. Tolin thought the mounts were identical all the way to the intricate weave of their blue and gold saddle blankets.
"Climb up, boy," The stranger said with a quick wave at the second horse. "Unless you have some reason to stay behind with these people?"
A line of bushes and weeds hid the spot by the ancient ruins where they had camped. If he took much longer, his uncle would come looking for him. Should he go with this stranger? Could it be worse?
Of course, it could. Tolin wasn't stupid.
But it could also be better.
"Tolin!" Aunt yelled. "Where is my breakfast, Tolin!"
"Please, sir," Tolin said with a bow of his head. "Let us go. Quickly."
"Yes," the stranger replied. "You have no questions?"
"I have questions enough to fill days," Tolin said as he carefully mounted the horse. The animal remained calm as they started away along the edge of the stream. "I'll start with one. What are you?"
"Most would ask where we are going."
"Most would probably care where they are going. I am happy to be going anywhere."
And a voice, already distant, called his name again. "Toooliiiin!"
Tolin looked back, startled to realize that they had already gone miles. That only reinforced the importance of his first question.
"I stand by my question."
"I am a djinn. One of the last twenty in this realm, at least as far as I can tell. I helped you because no one should suffer from such despair. And my name is Fisa. I don't know where we are going."
Tolin unexpectedly laughed. "Thank you," he said, and relaxed, although he had one potential problem to mention. "My uncle knows everyone within fifty miles of the old farm. He will offer a reward to bring me back. Someone will do it."
"Someone will try."
That improved his mood again. "You have done me a wondrous favor by getting me free. What can I do for you in exchange?"
For the first time, Fis looked startled. They rode on for a little longer in silence before their horses came to a halt.
"I didn't realize you were what I was looking for. In fact, I didn't realize I was looking for anything." Fis gave a quick nod. "The djinn have become little more than myths, you know."
"My mother told me bedtime stories about djinn with great powers and fabulous riches, and how they helped humans."
"Oh yes, I will want to hear those tales. And then we will make new ones."
Tolin hadn't expected a better future. He started considering the old tales. His life was about to change.




