Djinn Box Set

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

What do you do when you need to find a magical fountain pen? Two hours before a woman had shown up on the doorstep of the house looking to buy one of the items Dale’s aunt had reputedly possessed. He had prevaricated and told her that he was very busy just then and if she came back the next day he’d discuss a transaction.

“I’m sorry. I’m aware Mildred acquired the fountain pen but I don’t know where she stored it,” Riadh said.

Dale gazed at the raven haired djinn. He’d hoped Riadh would be able to tell him where the pen was. No such luck. “Can I assume that the pen is the same size as a usual fountain pen?”

“I believe so.”

“Okay, I guess I’ll start with the desk downstairs in the den. If I find more than one, you’ll be able to tell me which one is magic, right?”

“Yes, not a problem.”

“I know we didn’t get into this before but how did Aunt Mildred let people know what she has or was willing to buy?” Dale asked.

“A mixture of word of mouth and a very covert website.”

“Ebay for magic?”

“Eh, definitely less organized than that, more akin to an old style bulletin board.” said Riadh.

“I knew Aunt Mildred kept up with technology to a degree, enough to send me electronic birthday cards when I was overseas. I always thought it was fabulous for someone of her age to be able to use the internet at all, now I’m realizing she had reasons other than just keeping up with friends and family. If I go through the desk, can you please poke around elsewhere and see if you can find the pen?”

“As you wish.”

Dale still found himself disconcerted by the odd phrases that came from Riadh at times.

“If you find any fountain pens, don’t open them,” Riadh advised.

“Why? More djinn?” Considering Dale had found Riadh in a shoe box, it didn’t seem out of the realm of possibility.

“No, but the fountain pen has a certain…thirst.”

Dale crossed his arms and looked at Riadh. “Okay, enlighten me. What kind of a thirst, because that sounds a bit threatening?”

“The pen is capable of allowing the user to produce the best poetry, best novel, best essay, etc. that person is capable of. There is a catch however. The pen only writes with the blood of the user, and has been known to fuel the desire to keep writing.”

“Ouch. Yuck. Okay, I’m definitely not opening it. Why in the hell would somebody want something like that?”

“If you were a writer, reasonably good but not amazing, think about the possibility of penning award winning best sellers.” Riadh said.

“Okay, maybe I understand a little, but I still think I’ll pass.”

* * * *

Two hours of sorting through the contents of a large wooden desk made Dale feel frazzled. Beyond the fact that he’d cleaned out a vast amount of post-it notes, ten to twenty year old bill stubs and flyers for cleaning the yard, there were no fountain pens.

He pushed back from the desk and picked up the huge trash bag he’d filled. It was late and the kitchen was still basically devoid of food. Should he ask Riadh to stock the fridge? Or was he better off just going shopping? Dale also wondered if Riadh had found anything. Maybe not, presumably he would have come down to the den if he had.

Dale went upstairs and found Riadh taking items from a drawer in a bureau. An enormous pile of scarves and gloves were piled on the floor.

“Any luck?” Dale asked.

“I found a pair of socks that renders the wearer’s footsteps silent, and a tin box full of resin of dragon’s wing.”

“Resin of what?”

“Dragon’s wing. It’s sometimes used in spell casting,” Riadh said.

“Uh, okay.” Magic socks and dragon parts, that confused Dale’s brain a little further and he had to think for a moment about what to ask next. “Are those items listed on the website?”

“The socks, probably. The resin, I’m not sure. The socks don’t take an adept to use them. The resin does or at least to make any proper use of it.”

“How many drawers have you emptied?” Dale asked.

“Three out of four.”

“Put the socks in the top drawer and the dragon whatever in the second and leave the third empty for now. We’ll try to start a filing system. Magic do-dads top drawer, ingredients like dragon flakes next, etc.”

“Resin,” Riadh corrected him.

Dale just shook his head. “I’m starving. Can I get you to make some food appear in the kitchen?”

“Yes. You’ll have to tell me what you want.”

* * * *

Most of what Dale wanted food wise was rather mundane but after about the thirtieth item, Riadh said, “I’m afraid I need to stop.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Dale looked at Riadh. The man looked a little pale, no not just pale, vaguely transparent around the edges. Lord, that was eerie.

“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.