The Secret Gift Read online

  I panicked. Not only was I in the clutches of a human, but she was about to discover the truth any moment because I couldn’t answer—the human child had never spoken! Even if I’d had practice in shifting my own vocal cords to match someone else’s, I had nothing to match!

  “What’s wrong, Naseem?” The woman’s forehead wrinkled, and she stopped the horrible bouncing to focus all her attention on me.

  Not knowing what else to do, I burrowed my face in her scratchy blouse and hid.

  A hand patted my head, comforting. Through my fear, I noticed it wasn’t slimy like the stories said at all; her skin was warm and dry, like my own, though a bit rougher. Nothing like the rumors had said. That knowledge didn’t make the danger any less though.

  “Don’t worry, Naseem,” she said, going back to that unbearable bouncing. “Your baba will be home soon.”

  What’s a baba? I wondered, but I didn’t dare lift my head and expose myself to more questions.

  This had been a huge mistake.

  I never should’ve agreed to come.

  What if I don’t make it home? The humans would discover me soon and cook me in a stew. Or trap me in a cage to entertain them. Already the woman’s arms had begun to feel like steel bars. Or maybe they’d just end my life immediately.

  When she set me on a bed, I didn’t hesitate to crawl under the itchy blanket and close my eyes, refusing to open them until her footsteps shuffled back toward the stove.

  Long minutes passed.

  I agonized over how to escape, still struggling to form a plan or even a coherent thought, when the wooden door swung open and a human man stepped inside, holding the real Naseem. “Look who I found outside again,” he said, chuckling.

  No!

  Panicking, I flung the blanket over my head and shifted into the smallest creature I could think of, tinier than anything I’d ever attempted before—a flea.

  If I hadn’t already been smaller than usual, I wouldn’t have been able to shift fast enough. But by the time the woman stepped up to the bed and flung back the covers, I’d burrowed into the thin straw mattress and was already halfway to the other side.

  “What kind of Jinni magic—” the wife grumbled to her husband.

  I stopped listening.

  Crawling out from the bottom of the mattress, where a thin piece of straw poked through, I dropped into the darkness beneath the bed. There, I shifted into the one shape besides my own that was most familiar and would take the least amount of energy: the green lizard.

  All that mattered right now was escape.

  Crawling painstakingly around the furniture along the edges of the room, I managed to remain unseen until I was a short distance from the door.

  Little eyes caught on me from across the room. That troublemaker Naseem had spotted me. As I slunk along the wall underneath the wooden table, he raised one chubby finger, pointing wordlessly in my direction.

  Before anyone could follow his gaze, I ducked behind the table leg and shifted back into the tiny flea, hopping frantically toward the door. I slipped through the crack at the base.

  Outside in the dark, I wanted to sob, but my flea form wasn’t capable.

  All this shifting had left me beyond exhausted.

  Starving.

  I struggled to return to my own form.

  After so many shifts in such a short span of time, it took far longer than normal.

  This had never happened before.

  As long minutes passed, I feared I’d be stuck in this half-shifted form, vulnerable and exposed.

  Aching, stretching, and shuddering through the changes, I pushed myself harder until finally I could wipe a tear from my own cheek.

  Sobs broke free.

  I stumbled away from the home into an alley where I dropped to my knees, shaking from how close I’d come to being discovered.

  Then, I forced myself to stop crying.

  I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.

  Drew a slow breath in.

  Then another.

  Years with my father had taught me to keep my emotions in check until it was safe, though I’d never been tested like this before.

  Dragging myself to my sandaled feet, I nearly broke down again at the thought of trying to cross the entire town without discovery. I just wanted to go home. To never see or think of a human again.

  A wave of dizziness hit me.

  Leaning against the back of the house in the dark, I listened carefully for any sounds of approach while I tried to catch my breath and refocus my thoughts.

  So many changes in a row and at such speed had sapped my strength to the point that my muscles trembled. I needed food and rest. As soon as possible.

  Traveling was out of the question. So was changing into the dog form or any other. I couldn’t shift in this condition. I could hardly think past my hunger.

  What an awful night.

  I needed time to regain my strength.

  Time I didn’t have.

  I could only hope the others would return home without me... Because I didn’t know what I would do if they came looking.

  4

  MY FOREHEAD TOUCHED the rough wood. It scraped against my skin, bringing me back to myself. I can’t lean against the wall of this house all night, waiting to be caught.

  Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself upright, wobbling slightly. All I need is a partial shift. Something simple. Manageable. Just enough to make me inconspicuous.

  Rubbing my hands across my face, I groaned. Yet another instance where a mentor would’ve taught me how to handle the exhaustion. And how to shift in spite of it.

  Jealousy always hit me in waves, but this time it sucked me under, drowning me, leaving me gasping for breath at the intensity. Clenching my fists, I had to hold back a scream of frustration. I could’ve learned how to handle a situation like this. I wouldn’t need to be afraid.

  Another wave hit, and another. I might’ve stood there seething all night, if not for a circle of lantern light and male voices approaching. Ducking around the corner of the home, I strode down one dark, silent street after the next, trying to think of a solution.

  There was one thing I’d never tried before...

  Sticking to the shadows, I slowed down, checking to make sure I was alone.

  In a normal transition my clothes always shifted with me, which meant I’d never changed only my clothing. I’d never needed to.

  Since this part of my Gift had always come naturally, I decided to try it.

  Lengthening my short skirts until they reached my ankles, like the ones the human mother had worn, turned out to be as easy as touching the fabric and picturing it longer. It took almost no effort and sapped almost no strength.

  When I tried to turn my pale blue eyes into brown, though, I sagged against the dirty wall of a nearby home.

  Once I finally managed it, I relaxed slightly. Now I would blend in.

  Slipping out into the quiet streets like this, I allowed myself to draw a full breath.

  There was at least an hour until midnight. I needed rest, and if possible, something to eat.

  Hoping to regain my strength as soon as possible, I walked slowly, taking it easy. An apple pie sat cooling in a window, and I stole it without pausing, not even feeling guilty since it was made by one of those vile humans. I ate it in crumbly bites with my fingers as I walked.

  Still ravenous, I used the tiny bit of energy the food gave me to travel inside a nearby home, hoping the lack of light under the door meant they were asleep. Shuffling through their kitchen, I ate anything and everything I could get my hands on, no matter how unfamiliar it tasted. Then, curling up in a dark corner in the pantry, I closed my eyes, leaned my head back against the wall, and rested.

  Shifting eventually started to feel within reach again as the minutes passed. It was almost like when a leg or arm fell asleep—numb and foreign to the rest of my body, but then as the Gift woke up, a tingling sensation as it made itself known again. Prickling. Shivers of awareness spread throughout my body as my strength returned.

  Satisfied, I traveled back into the dark streets, noting the time—close to midnight—and continued on.

  By the time the outer wall of the village came into sight, most of my anxiety had melted away

  I laughed softly, feeling foolish.

  I hadn’t been in any real danger.

  The humans would never even know I’d been there. By the time that little boy was old enough to explain, he’d think he’d imagined it. And now, I was practically home.

  After I passed a few more houses, I’d stop in the shadows to change my dress and eyes back to normal.

  Part of me wished I would’ve enjoyed my time here a bit more. Now that I’d recovered my strength, shifting felt easy again, like I could become anyone or anything.

  “Hello, sweetheart,” a male voice said.

  The corner of my mouth twisted upward. It was as if someone had granted my wish. If I’d still been tired, I would’ve simply traveled away, but my playful mood was back in full force.

  I stood in a circle of lamplight, and the man was somewhere behind me. Taking advantage of this, I quickly grew facial hair, forming an entire beard like the so-called “Baba” had worn earlier. It was detailed work, but excitement spurred me on, making me add other details like wrinkled skin and bags under my eyes. A few tucks and tweaks to my body and clothing, and by the time I turned to face the voice moments later, I was an old man wearing a slightly odd robe instead of a dress.

  The leer on the drunken man’s face froze.

  It was an effort not to burst out laughing. Staying in character, I raised my now bushy gray brows in disgust before I turned around and kept walking. Only then did I allow a smirk to reach my face.

  The only dam
per in my fun was that I still didn’t know how to shift my voice.

  Another wave of jealousy stole my breath.

  Trying to ignore it, I closed my eyes. Could I mimic the sound of a male voice in general?

  Grumbles came from behind me as the disgusting man shuffled off, and I tried to imitate him. I visualized my vocal chords as new strings on a lyre, playing with them, stretching them this way, then that, testing the way they sounded with a tuneless hum. It was almost like learning a new song. Certain changes raised my voice until it was high and childish, while others lowered it.

  “Good seeing you,” I called after the man in a deep baritone. He was all the way down the street by this point, disappearing around the corner, and lifted his hand in a rude gesture without looking back.

  I grinned.

  But the smile slowly fell off my face. Could I ever learn to imitate a specific voice, like the little boy from earlier? That would be the only way to truly replace someone. Maybe I could imitate someone like my father, whose voice I knew all too well, but that would take practice and experimenting to know for sure.

  I’d discovered my Gift months ago, and yet, I still knew so little.

  Scowling at yet another reminder that I was weak without a teacher, I started walking again and forced a faster shift than normal, pushing myself. I returned to my true form—short dress, sandals, and long, dark hair grazing my bare arms and back—without pausing in my stride.

  A gasp came from the shadows on my left.

  The usual instinct to flee surged through me.

  I swung around.

  No.

  Asher stood in the dark alley between homes, where he waited for the others to return. He might’ve never even left this spot.

  My fingers curled into helpless fists.

  How much did he see?

  “Haven’t you been hiding a valuable little secret?” he whispered, slowly grinning. “Wait until the others find out about this.”

  “What’re you talking about?” I scoffed, hiding my panic. “Are you feeling ill? I’ve been here nearly ten minutes, and you’ve been babbling about all the humans you saw.” I reached out as if to feel his brow for a fever.

  He frowned, pulling back and shaking his head. “Nice try. I saw all of it. First, you grew a beard for that dirty old man, and changed your voice. Then you made all of it disappear just now in an instant.” Every word made my heart sink. “You’re a shape-shifter!”

  For a beat, we simply stared at each other.

  What am I supposed to say?

  I’d always liked Asher, but liking and trusting were very different things.

  “It’s okay,” he said softly, as if he could sense my uncertainty. “If you don’t want me to tell anyone, I won’t. You can trust me, Bel.”

  It was the nickname that made my mask slip. I stepped closer and hissed, “You have to swear to keep it a secret.”

  Though he swallowed hard, he didn’t step back. That alone gave me hope. “I promise.”

  Another long silence passed between us, heavy with unasked questions.

  “So, why is it a secret?” he blurted, curiosity making him lean forward. “You have a Gift that’s actually worth something. Sure, it’s considered a bit dangerous by some, but that’s only because it’s so rare. You could be working with a mentor right now—”

  “It just is,” I bit out. He didn’t understand. As much as I wished for a mentor, I knew the truth—none would take me. Shape-shifting wasn’t a Gift that anyone cultivated, it was a Gift to be pruned out of Jinn altogether. Whether by dimming its strength, overpowering it, or removing it altogether. I shivered at the thought. A Severance. Very few Jinn ever survived a severance of their Gifts.

  Pressing my lips together bitterly, I crossed my arms. If only my secret Gift could’ve been shifting memories instead of physical shapes.

  Before Asher could press for more, Simon materialized a few paces down the road, right under a street lamp, not the slightest bit concerned about humans seeing his Gift.

  I supposed after what Asher had seen me do, I couldn’t really judge him.

  “You should’ve been there!” Simon chortled, completely unaware of the tension between Asher and I as he jogged over and joined us in the dark alley. “I put a whole tavern to sleep! It was exhilarating! I can’t believe my mentor won’t let me try this back home. I could do so much more than they think!”

  The mention of a mentor made Asher swing back to face me, and this time, I couldn’t break free of his gaze. I could hardly breathe.

  Please don’t tell him, I wanted to say.

  Instead, I ripped my gaze away and gave Simon a terse nod.

  “Where is everyone?” Miriam’s voice drifted toward us from down the street. “This isn’t funny,” she whined, growing louder as she let her fear make her forget the nearby humans. “If you all thought you could travel home and leave me here, I’m going to mix up a curse so strong you won’t be able to sit for a year.”

  Simon leaned out, not noticing Asher’s stare or the way I stood too still. “Oh, get over yourself, Miriam. You couldn’t curse a pinky toe if you tried.”

  His jab made me shake my head, breaking the spell. “Don’t be so sure of that,” I said to Simon, standing up for the sensitive Miriam. “You’re practically begging to be her first true curse.”

  Once I’d looked away from Asher, I couldn’t seem to meet his eyes again.

  What must he think of me now? Any hope that he might return my feelings someday was crushed.

  Stepping out into the street, I forced my hands to hang lightly by my sides and took casual strides, though the light made me feel exposed. Made me want to run. “Let’s go home,” I said to all of them as I passed Miriam, who fell into step behind me.

  If they noticed the slight hitch in my voice, they didn’t say anything.

  We didn’t find Phillipa until we reached the short stone wall where we’d first entered the town. She leaned against a tree, waiting for us with arms crossed, shoulders slumped, and ignored all of us as we drew closer, though we weren’t making any effort to be quiet.

  “What happened to you?” Simon asked, nudging her shoulder less roughly than usual.

  “Nothing,” she muttered. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  A piece of her dress was ripped at the shoulder. Though she didn’t have the best life at home, I could’ve sworn it hadn’t been that way when we’d first arrived.

  I waited until the others moved toward the portal before I took her arm and tucked it under mine, bending to her ear to ask softly, “Did a human hurt you?”

  “Nothing serious,” she murmured back, staring aimlessly ahead. “I traveled away before...” She didn’t finish whatever she’d been planning to say.

  Despicable humans. I gritted my teeth, and fury made my whole body tremble with the desire to hurt something. Someone. “We should make him pay.”

  Phillipa’s voice shook. “I just want to go home.”

  I was sick of bullies. My father was the worst of them. But they were everywhere. People—whether Jinn or human—couldn’t seem to help preying on others. It was in our nature. And while the Jinn could be cruel, humans were without a doubt the lowest scum.

  “Are you coming?” Asher called from ahead, standing beside the tree trunk next to our passage home. His eyes were on me.

  When I met them, he held my gaze until I broke it again.

  Phillipa’s problems faded in the face of my own.

  A piece of white ribbon from Miriam’s dress marked the portal on the human world side. It clung to a skinny branch and danced in the breeze. The daleth itself was invisible. The trees stood so close together that to pass through and return home, we had to each take turns, sucking in our breath and squeezing past the rough bark to make it to the other side.

  Asher led the way, followed by Simon, then Miriam, just like before.

  “Go ahead,” I told Phillipa, wanting for some reason to go last. As her foot disappeared, I stared at the dark patch of foliage beyond. A soft wind made the leaves rustle all around me and an owl hooted somewhere off in the darkness. From here, the town we’d visited transformed into a twinkle of lights in the distance.

  What was I going to do about Asher? He wasn’t known for being trustworthy. But that didn’t stop me from hoping.

  While I stood frozen, worrying over it, his head popped back through the daleth. “I haven’t said a word to the others,” he said, as if he knew I needed to hear it. “We can talk more tomorrow, but don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.” Winking, he added, “Yet.”