If I say the words and use the crystal, the candle will light, Dale Edinger told himself. He sat slouched on the sofa of the den with his late Aunt Mildred’s grimoire in his lap. At first glance the thing looked like a binder full of recipes, instead it was a book of spells and notations on magical items. Maybe he should ask Riadh for advice on the spell. No, damn it, it was only a spell for lighting a candle. If it didn’t work, it was no big deal. Riadh would probably give him one of those slow, amused smiles. God, the idea of being pressed up against Riadh sent a wave of warmth through Dale. The dusky tan of Riadh’s skin, the long lithe body, the firm curve of his ass…Dale shook his head, refocusing on the binder in his lap. He had placed a fat pillar candle on the coffee table and pushed the table several feet from him. The crystal he had found in an empty cool whip container along with a few feathers and some other stones.

Dale held the crystal out in front of him, aimed at the candle, and said, “Heat of the sun, burning bright, create the flame, hold back the night.”

Nothing.

In frustration he double checked the page with the spell to see if he had used an incorrect word. Nope, it didn’t look like…he smelled smoke. Glancing back toward the table, he saw a flicker of flame on the curtains hanging in the window behind the table.

“Aah!” He leaped up and ripped the curtain down, flinging it to the floor and stomping on it, until it was an ashy heap of slightly smoldering fabric.

“What happened?” Riadh came into the room.

Dale wanted to crawl under the sofa in embarrassment. Riadh was the djinn he’d inherited when his aunt had died, along with a house stuffed with an insane mix of junk, antiques, and magical items. Riadh lived in a shoebox for ladies pumps when he wasn’t helping Dale try to clear the house of the junk. How was that for a brain twist? “I…I thought I would try out the candle lighting spell.”

“And apparently had a glitch,” said Riadh. “Do you want me to fix it?” He pointed at the half burnt curtain on the floor.

“Yeah, please.”

Riadh wiggled his fingers and the curtain was suddenly intact and hanging in the window again. He stood with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, looking at Dale.

“Okay, spit it out. I deserve it,” Dale said.

“I thought we had an agreement that you wouldn’t try any of the spell work unless I over saw the attempt.”

“I know. It seemed like a simple thing. I figured that at worst, it just wouldn’t light.”

“Magic is less predictable than you might think,” Riadh said. “On a positive note, there’s a message on the website from someone offering to teach you.”

“Did they give a name?”

“No, just a log in ID, but I think it’s someone that Mistress Mildred corresponded with a few times. He goes by Archimedes. Come, read the message yourself, and see what you think.”

Dale trailed Riadh into the office, sat at the desk, and faced the computer. The screen showed the message.

—Given the nature of the subject I would be willing to meet you in a public place in Philadelphia to discuss the possibility of an apprenticeship. Please respond if this is acceptable and I will provide a time and date.—

“A public place is probably a good idea,” said Dale. “You’ve been around for a while. Is there rivalry between magic users?”

“Sometimes.”

“This guy is not likely to turn me into a frog if we’re in a coffee shop I assume.”

Riadh smiled. “Unlikely.”

“Will you go with me?”

“If you like. We’d have to take my box. I can’t be more than five miles from it without…adverse effects.”

“Specify adverse effects,” Dale ordered.

“Weakness, diminished magical ability, discomfort, and potential discorporation if it goes on long enough.”

“Discorporation? Do you mean death?”

“Maybe. I can’t say that I’ve ever tested the limits of that issue,” Riadh admitted.

“Okay, let’s try not to. I don’t want you getting hurt because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

Riadh was standing behind Dale as Dale had read the message. Riadh wrapped an arm around Dale’s shoulders from behind and rested his chin on the top of Dale’s head. “We’ll try to be cautious.”

* * * *

Many years had passed since Riadh had traveled this far from Mistress Mildred’s house. Most of the journeys in the last few years had been an hour or less. He was now riding in Dale’s car, sitting in the front seat as Dale drove. He cast a long look at his master. The man had blond hair, a closely trimmed full moustache and beard, and a muscular build. Over the past month of being owned by a new master, Riadh found himself more and more attracted to the mortal. Even though Dale’s magical knowledge and ability was minimal at this point, Riadh was discovering him to be kind and open-minded. A pleasant side benefit was that Dale was attracted to men. These days the word often used was “gay,” which Riadh found had much gentler connotations than words used in previous eras. Riadh could have changed his appearance to simulate a woman if a master desired, but it was wearing. The mage who originally bound him from desert elemental to being a djinn had specified a male form but left sexual preference an open choice.