Anissa settled into the leather seat of David's boxy automobile.
"Here's a question for you. How come a Djinni, which is a Middle Eastern mythos, has a British accent? Or speaks English in the first place, for that matter?" Her new master, it seemed, was absolutely full of questions. How was it he noticed holes in her story that no other master ever had? The man was far too clever, probably too much so for his own good.
"My first master - the sorcerer--was English. He'd traveled with King Richard's Crusaders. He took me back with him to Britain, where I spent most of the last eight centuries. While comprehending languages and speaking in the same is part of the Djinni's magic, I suppose I may have picked up some traces of local dialect."
"Murdoch again. Is he Djinn?"
"No. He is, or w
