I have an evil Jinn lurking in my story!

‘J’ is for the evil Jinn or Djinn. In my WIP, entitled Illusions of Intimacy, one of my characters is a demon-like genie antagonist—a jinn. This spirit is from Arabic lore. They can be good or bad, but mine, as you will see, is very bad. A jinn possess supernatural powers and can be conjured to perform various tasks and services. A common example of a good jinn, is the wish-granting genie in The Book of One Thousand and One Nights.

In this scene from my work, the jinn assumed the shape of a large black dog (Nidal). They commonly have cat-like pupils. Iron will immobilize them. (For an explanation of the lore telling how iron produces this effect, see my previous post.)

The black devil dog bounded overtop of the other two, his muzzle drawn back across clenching teeth.

The magic tearing at my soul commanded release. The anger in my heart overpowered my remaining mortal fears. I lunged at him; the impact of my weight forced him onto his back. I slashed his shoulder and fumbled within my tunic for the iron latch.

The iron grazed his fur and he yelped. Then, with vengeance burning in his eyes, he flipped me over sideways. I twisted back to see his teeth clamp onto my side, red quickly soaking my clothing.

I roared a primal noise from deep within, a wolf’s growl. Rising up, I threw him off, and ran forward down the corridor. With Nidal just behind, I gained the common foyer for the three towers. Which one held Fareeda? I dared not stop to consider. Then, the magic I placed in her black pearl called to me. I bolted up the middle tower, taking three steps in each stride.  I heard noises behind, hoping Asim followed.

At the top of the tower I found a wooden door. Through an opening six inches square I caught a glimpse of Fareeda, enough to ascertain she was alive. Seren whirled about her, trailing a glowing thread. She wore the garb of a common enchantress, most likely forced by the lord to seduce him with dance, his attempt to break our bond.

My rage flared anew. Nothing could stop me now. I thrust a hand within my tunic and tore its pocket to withdraw the iron latch.

Nidal never saw my action, already nipping at my throat.

I shoved the gate piece onto his chest and held it there with all my strength.

He must have understood what was happening, because he lifted a hand and sent a shot of magic through the opening at Fareeda. It never reached her, glancing off the protective entanglement Seren wove. He groaned and slumped to the floor.

            The iron now sat upon Nidal’s chest and affected just as the shaman indicated, rendering him motionless. The rest of his dark pack withdrew into corners, watching, pacing. The lord’s body fell under a window. After passage of a cloud, moonlight streamed in, lighting his open eyes. His pupils transformed into green slits and I knew not whether he was alive or dead.

Art credit: Artemis Kolakis