The next day, Erlang Shen is still at the front desk. I join him, looking over the guest registrations. He looks at me warily, maybe expecting me to deliver a Daji-level helping of humiliation. He's still in the doghouse. Daji has made it clear that until further notice, Erlang Shen is the welcoming committee at the Wendigo Inn.
The djinns' names are all listed in the guestbook, and I look them up in the computer. My jaw drops. "Did we suddenly agree to host a djinn convention?" I ask.
Erlang shrugs. "I guess so. They came in last-minute and asked for rooms. You never want to say no to djinns. They're staying for at least a week. But the good news is, they don't take up a lot of space, and they all booked one of our executive suites. They tend to like to stick together in one room."
I never knew that about djinns.
Erlang gives me a lopsided monkey smile. "Aladdin may have had his wonderful lamp, but most djinns wouldn't be caught dead in such cramped quarters."
"Okay. What kind of entertainment do we need to arrange for them?" I ask, scanning their names and ages.
Bhebon the Royal, 216 years old.
Issom the Unequal, 537 years old.
Sabreen the Humble, 747 years old
Jizzaarruaz The Amazing, 425 years old
Udu the Rich, 317 years old
Jastam the Radiant, 713 years old
Shodfui the Friendly, 231 years old
Umnana the Feisty, 321years old
Ayai the Incredible, 675 years old
Phazi the Enchanted, 400 years old
Offowu the Lustrous, 348 years old
Yebima the Precious, 512 years old
A dozen djinn, six males, six females. All with these noble-sounding names.
"What are they like?" I ask.
I've heard reports from the staff, and Daji didn't mince words last night, grumbling about "entitled djinns" and how we'll be cleaning up after them for weeks.
Erlang picks his teeth with a gold toothpick, despite my frown. I don't think it's a good image for guests to see a monkey cleaning his teeth when they walk through our front door.
"Could you not do that while on duty?" I ask.
He drops the toothpick immediately. I expected some backtalk, but Daji probably has him terrified of even looking at me the wrong way.
"The djinns are as unpredictable as a thunderstorm," he says. "They're hundreds of years old, with almost unlimited power. They can change form, conjure things, and wreak mass destruction if you provoke them … or if they feel like it."
"Did they read the 'no destroying the inn' part of the rules?"
Erlang Shen chitters, amused at my innocence. "Oh, of course. But they don't care. Even Aunt Daji says she could make the Yangtze River jump its riverbed before she could make a djinn behave."
I press my hand to my temple. "Is there anything they fear?"
"Well … don't ever mention Disney's 'Aladdin' to them," Erlang admits. "They hate that."
"I knew that." I think about Rokaci's irrational reaction to Harry Potter. "I guess that 'I Dream of Jeannie' marathon I planned for the guests is out."
Erlang shakes his head and rearranges the room keys. He seems to love shiny objects, sort of like ASMR for mythical monkeys. "They don't like the way your popular culture has reduced them to cute and quirky wisecracking creatures or subservient women."
"Yeah, we tend to do that. We make vampires sparkle, too."
I've come to realize that these mythical beings, these gods, are more awe-inspiring than the depictions we see in pop culture. "The Walking Dead" at least showed zombies as the empty killing machines they are.
"But in a way," he continues, "I suppose your people have kept the legends alive."
"I guess so. Back to the djinns. Any special requests?"
Erlang pauses. The kind of pause where you don't want to tell your boss potentially problematic news.
"Erlang?"
Looking around to make sure he's not being overheard, he moves his monkey face next tm mine to whisper.
"They want dates."
"Dates?"
Erlang nods. "It's a djinn matchmaking seminar. Most of them aren't going to marry djinn. They want other gods … or even humans."
My head just exploded.
"I'm the only human allowed at this inn! You bring humans here, and it'll compromise the place. We'll just have to set up a speed dating event with the available gods and goddesses and the fauns."
Erlang makes a monkey frown. "You clearly haven't met any djinn, have you?"
"Can't say I have."
He looks sympathetic. "You don't say no to them. Ever. Which means you'll have to get some humans from a nearby city, bus them in, and tell them it's just a normal matchmaking seminar."
"NO. Maybe the djinn aren't used to hearing that word, but this is my hotel. I know my grandparents wouldn't have risked the safety of this place just because the djinn can't find their own dates."
A shudder goes through Erlang. "I don't envy you telling them that."
I take the elevator to the djinns' room and knock on the door. I wait a few minutes. Then, a deep voice that seems to come from the center of the earth answers.
"Come in, mortal."
I open the door and enter the djinns' room.
The first thing I notice is that the dozen djinns are spread out all over the living area. Some of them are reading books, some of them are playing cards, two of them are having cocktails, and two others give me a long, smoldering look.
"I'm Van Thomas, owner and manager of the Wendigo Inn," I say. "I understand you're putting on a matchmaking seminar?"
"Are YOU going to be one of our matches?" purrs a male djinn.
I cough. "I'm taken. Daji is my mate."
Several of the djinn groan. "She gets all the good ones," the male djinn grouses. "You better have some prime human mates for us."
I clear my throat, looking at all of them. Some of them have goat's hooves. Their eyes burn with unearthly intensity.
"Did you try to slip this request past my grandparents?" I say with authority, puffing out my chest, "Because I can tell you that they'd have shut that down."
The uneasy glances between the djinn tell me I've hit on something.
I continue. "You can't bring human mates here. It would risk the security of this entire inn."
The male djinn who hit on me whirls on the others. "I TOLD you he wouldn't say yes."
The other djinn mutter, smoke coming out of their mouths and ears. The ones with hooves stomp their feet. Erlang was right. The djinn are used to getting their way.
I continue. "There are plenty of single gods and goddesses here, and ones who practice polygamy. Why don't you do a speed dating event with them?"
"We don't want them," another djinn says in a booming voice.
"Well, sorry. It's against inn policy to bring any humans here. If that's a problem for you, you can go elsewhere. We'd hate to lose your business, but making special accommodations isn't fair to the other guests."
How did all that strength and defiance come out of me?
I only have ten seconds to ponder that, though, because the djinn with the booming voice hurls a marble at me. It expands … and traps me in a crystal bubble.
I pound against it and get bruised knuckles for my trouble.
Suddenly, I feel a little claustrophobic. That's because the sphere is shrinking!
"Get us the humans or this inn will need a new owner," the loudmouthed djinn snarls.
What do I do?