Seconds later, the tornado vanished. Henrietta was found coughing up sand all over a blue porcelain plate in a restaurant. It was a warmly lit, masculine space filled with high wooden beams and rich leather furniture. Surprisingly, all the other tables were empty except for one, where a waiter stood in the corner. Under the yellow light, the Djinn looked far less intimidating, resembling more a skinny teenager — the sort who stayed up all night playing fantasy video games.
"You shouldn't have done that," Henrietta stammered, shaking the sand out of her hair, which now reached her shoulders.
"Shouldn't have done what, Princess? Taken you to Sydney's best steakhouse?" Azoom asked, clicking his fingers.
The waiter suddenly appeared in a smart burgundy apron.
"Stop calling me Princess; I'm just an ordinary girl," Henrietta said, her eyes falling onto a classy cream menu filled predominantly with meat dishes. Boeuf En Croute, Wagyu Filet Mutton with red wine mushroom sauce, and Braided Oxtail encrusted in Russian caviar were among the listings.
"I will have the 300-day-old wagyu steak, rare and bloody, with a glass of your oldest wine," Azoom declared.
"Are you old enough to drink wine? You look like a teenager," Henrietta replied, leaning forward and shaking the rest of the sand out of her leotard.
"I suppose in my world I'm still considered a 'teenager' as you put it, but out here, I'm three hundred and sixty-seven. Also, Djinns can't get drunk," Azoom replied.
The waiter, with a slack and puffy face resembling someone in a deep, unguarded sleep — even his eyes were closed — turned towards Henrietta.
"Very good, and for you, Madame?" he asked, causing Henrietta almost to faint as she took in the prices on the menu.
"Order whatever you like, Princess. I believe in footing the bill when I take guests to the best places," Azoom said. Henrietta, part Fairy and allergic to almost all meat, winced at the descriptions of seared and bloody meat. Eventually, she settled on twice-roasted garlic potatoes and a glass of cold milk.
"Cold milk? See, I knew you were a fairy! I met one of your kind back in Dorchester; they would gladly drink an entire bucket of milk in one sitting," Azoom remarked casually.
Normally, Henrietta would have rebuked him for following cultural stereotypes, but in this case, he was technically right. Fairies indeed craved fresh milk, which often resulted in Henrietta receiving strange looks in coffee chains.
"Luckily for you, I'm hungry. I will eat and then I will leave! I have a tooth to drop off," Henrietta merely replied, grabbing one of the hefty dark brown bread rolls from the breadbasket.
Azoom cocked his head to one side again and smiled. "No, you won't. You will stay and help me recover the lost child. It's the sort of thing you would do," he said, revealing teeth that appeared to be carved from shiny pearls.
Henrietta merely snorted as she slathered the bread with rich, soft butter. "And how do you know that?" she asked before furiously biting into the bread.
Azoom merely shrugged before snapping open his napkin and placing it on his lap. "Because I am a Djinn. I can see almost anyone's secrets and desires," he replied as Henrietta licked her lips, thinking of all the times she had sneaked into movie theaters without paying.
"Well, that doesn't mean you shouldn't respect people's privacy! I know you're evil and can't help it, but really," Henrietta snorted, and Azoom chuckled as if he found her delightful.
"Who told you that I'm evil? Some idiot on the Internet? They think all of us are evil when, really, we have the same amount of morality as humans! Knowing secrets isn't evil," he argued, as the waiter reappeared remarkably fast, carrying Azoom's wine and steak.
"Depends on what the secret is," Henrietta muttered as Azoom spat out the wine, gagging.
"Ugh, they call this old? It can't be more than a five-year vintage. I can taste the grapes' youth," he muttered as he neatly sliced the steak, causing blood to ooze all over the plate.
"Honestly, I wouldn't worry; your secrets are far from interesting," Azoom remarked before popping a piece of steak into his mouth.
"My secrets are incredibly interesting," Henrietta retorted as the waiter appeared again, placing a bowl of olives in front of her.
"Hah, I've seen men hide the fact they've slaughtered entire villages for a single diamond. I've heard whispers in the minds of the Pari about a hidden palace made of the souls of the dead. Do you really think I care about the time you accidentally stole a blimp and it got mistaken for a UFO?" Azoom asked her before sighing with delight and licking his lips.
"Do I need to give you and the dead cow your own room?" Henrietta asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I've been dreaming about this steak for over a year! Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a Halal-aged premium steak with a decent wine pairing? Most people think Djinns eat actual rotting garbage, which is far from true," Azoom shot back.
"That must be so annoying. Anyway, I have better secrets than the whole blimp fiasco," Henrietta said pensively before biting into her bruschetta. The tomatoes were watery, and the bread was far too salty.
The restaurant was suddenly plunged into darkness, apart from a single spotlight projected across the left wall.
"Of course you do," Azoom said, and he suddenly grabbed Henrietta's hand, his fingers brushing gently against the inside of her wrist.
"It's here in your heartbeat, your secret about your mother," he said, his fingers rubbing against Henrietta's regulation satin tooth fairy gloves.
"Hmph, there are a lot of secrets about my mother; she is, after all, a fairy queen," Henrietta remarked.
"Yes, but this one only you, your father, and I, and one friend know! Can I show you with one of my puppet shows? I've spent years practicing my craft," Azoom asked eagerly.
"They better not be those big felt puppets you see on kids' shows! Humans love them, but their eyes are terrifying and dead inside," Henrietta grimaced, and Azoom released her hand with a small smirk.
"Give me some credit; I practice the art of shadow storytelling," he said.
Shadows suddenly appeared across the wall, sinister, people-shaped shadows.
"A rather short time ago, if you consider the grand rolling hills of history, there lived a goddess named Ainne sometime during the 13th century," Azoom's voice began, and the shadow lady stepped into shadow waves.
"Now, Lady Ainne was known as one of the most beautiful women in the entire land of Ireland. This was mainly because she still had all her own teeth, and she actually took frequent baths and washed her hair. It's the hair, of course, that would be her undoing," Azoom continued, and a hulking man suddenly appeared behind Lady Ainne's shadow, causing Henrietta to shiver. Henrietta's hand nervously began to plait her own hair, which had already grown to just below her shoulders; she didn't particularly like this part of her family's history.
"The second Earl of Desmond had heard tales of the lovely Fairy Queen who would appear on moonlit nights, and after weeks of planning and waiting, he attacked her," he said, and the shadowy man lunged onto Lady Ainne.
"This was, of course, a much darker time in history, and these sorts of things tended to happen... 'Oh, trust me, those sorts of things still constantly happen,'" Henrietta replied, tying the end of her plait in a firm knot like a piece of rope.
Azoom merely sighed and waved his hand at the shadow puppets.
"Lady Ainne, of course, wouldn't stand for that sort of thing. She turned him into a goose and then eventually killed him, but he left a part of him inside of her," Azoom said, and the Lady Ainne shadow was suddenly holding a baby.
"Despite the ugliness behind his conception, Lady Ainne adored her little Gerald. Under her watch, he grew into an incredible figure! A true hero who could perform marvels and had the soul of a poet," Azoom continued, and Henrietta began to tear at her half-eaten bread roll.
"He wrote the poems in prison, you know. Everyone said he was sent there because of some political thing involving his father, but that wasn't the case," Henrietta said and then raised her eyebrow.
"Do you know the real reason why he was kidnapped by the English?" she asked Azoom, and he chuckled.
"Easy! It was the prophecy! Most of these secrets end in a prophecy, this one involved him one day riding across Ireland on a silver-shod horse before taking over the world," Azoom smiled, and the scene suddenly turned into a shadow of a man in a prison cell.
"Yep, and the king of England didn't want that! Of course, he went home eventually, and then he vanished! Technically, he drowned, and mother freaked out! Dad said she hid his box in a crystal palace hidden under a lake," Henrietta admitted.
It was the same story her father told her every Halloween.
"However, your mother understood that for her kind, death was far from the end. All she needed was a new son, a new body for her sweet Gerald," Azoom continued, and the shadows showed a very pregnant Ainne.
"But it didn't work," Henrietta sighed.
"Sadly, no. King Richard used one of his occultists to curse her womb! Lady Ainne could only ever bear daughters," Azoom replied.
The shadows now depicted a heavily pregnant Ainne surrounded by screaming infants.
Henrietta was, of course, familiar with the curse; it was why she had twenty-nine sisters whom she had never actually met.
"Eventually, centuries later, Ainne traveled far across the ocean to a new land, hoping the curse would not follow her. She found an unbaptized man to help her create a son. In the wild bush, she performed hidden dark magics to ensure that she would give birth to a prince, and at first, she thought she did," Azoom continued, and Henrietta snorted with disgust.
"But magic is a funny thing; magic can't change the true nature of a soul. By the time the baby was walking, she had changed herself into what she really was... a princess," Azoom finished with a clap, and the lights switched back on.
"Okay, you're pretty good at shadow puppets. Congratulations," Henrietta snapped irritably.
"Like I said, it's not that interesting! It shouldn't even be a secret! All you did was take on your true form, and that should be celebrated," Azoom replied before taking another mouthful of steak.
"Well, my mother didn't agree. She spent decades trying to change me using potions and amulets, and when that didn't work, she disowned me," Henrietta said after swallowing the last olive. "Which is why I have to go. I need to pass my exam and get a job."
Azoom chuckled, holding a tiny white object between his two fingers. It was the tooth.
"You won't be able to pass your exam without this! I took it out of your belt while you were distracted by the shadow show," he smirked, and Henrietta shrieked with outrage, jumping across the table, causing the dinner plates and wine to crash to the floor.
Henrietta grabbed Azoom's wrist only to realize the tooth was now gone, and he was still grinning.
"You will get the tooth back after you help me find the missing Walik boy," he said with that same infuriating grin.
Up close, Azoom smelled like a dusty old thrift shop, the sort filled with paperback crime novels and ancient scented candles. Henrietta had to stop herself from sniffing; as much as she hated to admit it, she loved the smell of old books.