“It was wrong of me to keep that truth from you, I know. But think: the relics the compass leads us to belong to jinn like me—people who fled my world because they feared for their lives. There is no going back for them. Do you think it would have been better to leave them in the desert, abandoned and alone? At the very least, we can find them new homes, places with folk who understand and appreciate their magic.”
Loulie swallowed. Long ago, her father had given her a compass—a relic. He had not known the nature of its magic, only that it was valuable. He had thought it would guide her. And it had. Through it, Qadir had found her. But she was not so naive as to think all her customers would cherish relics this way.
“And who is to say those jinn would rather help humans than remain lost?”
Qadir smiled sadly. “No one knows what the dead want, Loulie. All we can do is honor them in the ways we understand. Where I come from, we cannot decide who our relics are passed on to, but we hope they will nonetheless guide the living. In your realm, I believe this is the form that remembrance takes. I do not believe what we are doing is wrong.”
Loulie knew Qadir was trying to win her over with reason, trying to soothe her frayed edges until she forgave him. He always did this—always backtracked after he made some mistake. And she always forgave him.
What if he lies to me again?
But—Qadir had saved her. When her tribe had perished and she alone was left to die, Qadir had appeared with his magic fire and rescued her. Layla Najima al-Nazari, he had said, it seems saving your life was my destiny. He had gestured to the compass she was holding—had shown her the red arrow pointing directly at her.
Qadir had done more than rescue her; he had given her life a purpose.
Her voice was thick with tears when she said, “You decided the course of my life without telling me the full truth. Had I not seen the ifrit’s magic tonight—had I not come to you with these concerns—would you have ever told me all of this?”
Qadir fixed his eyes—eyes smoky with desperation—on her and said, “Yes. When the time was right.”
“And when would the time ever be right?”
Qadir shook his head. “I know it was wrong of me to lie to you, Loulie, but you must understand: I am not accustomed to facing my mistakes. Always, I have run from them.”
She remembered words he’d spoken to her long ago: I was lost in your human desert and could not return home. That is why, when I tracked the compass to you, it saw fit to guide me down a different path. Your path. And when she had asked why he could not return, he’d simply said, Because I am no longer welcome there.
The last of her resistance snapped when he said, “I apologize. You deserved the full truth. I initially thought the compass had guided me to you because you were a way for me to fulfill my purpose.”
“And now?” She lowered the compass to her lap.
Qadir visibly relaxed. “You are not a tool; you are my charge.” He seemed to hesitate, then added, “If you disagree with this lifestyle, relinquish it.”
“Easy to offer me the alternative after it’s become my life.” She was the Midnight Merchant: seller of rare, magical items. Without the relics, she was nothing.
“I know it’s wrong. But it’s all I can offer. What we’re doing is not immoral, Loulie.”
“Says who?” She was suddenly tired. So very tired. “The compass? Do you let the jinn in here decide the morality of your actions too?”
“She is the most moral person I know,” Qadir said, unscathed. He held out a hand. Reluctantly, Loulie handed over the compass. But Qadir surprised her by gripping her hand. “The jinn in this compass was my savior. She freed me from a terrible fate and guided me through your desert so that I would not perish. I owe her everything, including my life.”
Loulie pulled her hand away with a glare. “You do not owe her my life.”
“Yes.” Qadir looked away, brow furrowed as he gazed at the stars. “Of course.”
An uncomfortable silence hung between them, filled with questions and accusations. Loulie closed her eyes in an effort to calm herself. When she did, she was assaulted by memories that were not hers. She was shackled to a rock, preparing to die, thinking of Him. Qadir, she now realized.
“What happened in the diwan was only possible because you were dealing with an ifrit.” She opened her eyes and glanced at Qadir, who was speaking to the stars. “I told you before she can use death magic, which is what allowed her to show you the memories of the jinn in the compass. Only an ifrit would be powerful enough to interact with souls while confined in a relic.”