“She was a slightly batty, eccentric old lady,” Dale said.
“Who was a reasonably good adept.”
This information was twisting Dale’s head in a knot just as badly as having a conversation with a scantily clad, sinfully hot…genie…er, um djinn. “How long did she have you?”
Riadh looked thoughtful. “If she was still alive, it would be fifty-one years.”
“Wow. What did you do for her?”
“Many things. Cleaning, cooking, negotiations with clients, anything she requested.”
“So…why do you live in a shoebox?” Dale asked.
“He who owned me before, damaged my bottle severely. He was careless and abusive. When he tired of me, he traded me to Mistress Mildred. She did make an attempt to repair the bottle but it didn’t work. She grabbed the nearest container available in an attempt to save my life and
