Mandy glanced down at the pendant, watching golden patterns swirl beneath its surface. "So you and this vessel... you're bonded?"
"Yes." His deep voice carried centuries of certainty. "That vessel has been mine for over three millennia."
Mandy stared at Kieran, his words echoing in her head. Three millennia. Three thousand years. Her vision swam, the room tilting.
"I need to..." She set her glass down on the magical table with trembling hands, nearly missing the surface. The spiced tea sloshed dangerously close to the rim.
Her head spun as she bent forward, displacing an indignant Bach from her lap. She braced her elbows on her knees andlet her head drop between them, focusing on the worn carpet beneath her feet.
"One..." She drew in a deep breath, holding it for a count of three before releasing it slowly.
"Two..." Another breath. In through her nose, out through her mouth. The room's spinning slowed marginally.
"Three..." The nap of the carpet's familiar pattern came into sharper focus - she really needed to vacuum under the recliner again. Amazing how the most mundane thoughts could surface in the most extraordinary moments.
Her breathing hitched again. Three thousand years. This object touching her skin had existed since before the Roman Empire. Before Christ.
A warm touch on her shoulder startled Mandy so badly she nearly leaped out of the recliner. Her heart thundered against her ribs as she registered Kieran's large hand clasping her shoulder, radiating a peculiar warmth that seemed to seep straight into her bones.
"Easy." His deep voice rumbled from much closer than she'd expected. "The vertigo will pass."
That penetrating warmth spread outward from his touch, chasing away the dizziness that had overwhelmed her moments before. The pendant's heat pulsed in sync with the energy flowing from his hand, creating a harmony of sensation that steadied her spinning thoughts.
Mandy lifted her head, meeting those ancient eyes that now seemed to warm with unexpected compassion. The reality of the situation crashed over her like a wave - not a dream, not a hallucination, not some elaborate fantasy conjured by her writer's imagination.
This was real. All of it.
Real magic existed in the world. Real Djinn walked among humans, granting wishes and maintaining magicalbureaucracies. The pendant around her neck wasn't simply jewelry - it was an artifact that had existed since before the pyramids were built.
And she was sitting in her living room, sharing tea with a being who had witnessed over three thousand years of human history.
"I can't - is this real?" The words escaped in a breathless whisper.
"Yes, it's real." His voice was low, soothing. "Take a few more deep breaths. This is a lot, I know."
Mandy's breathing steadied as the warmth from Kieran's touch and the pendant worked in harmony to calm her racing thoughts. Her new reality settled around her - strange and unexpected, but no longer threatening to overwhelm her.
A question nagged at her mind, refusing to be ignored. "If you're a Wish Bearer," she ventured, her fingers finding the pendant again, "why were you so angry that Jacinth gave me your vessel?"
Kieran's hand dropped from her shoulder as he straightened, stepping back to resume his seat in the armchair.
"Wish Bearers can choose to remove their vessels from the human world," he responded, his deep voice carefully measured. "It effectively puts our Wish Bearer status in... suspension, you might say."
The pendant's warmth pulsed against her palm as she processed his words. "And this vessel..." She lifted the pendant slightly. "How long has it been since it was last in the human world?"
"Centuries." The word fell between them like a stone dropping into still water, creating ripples of implications that made Mandy's head spin again.
She stared at him, pieces clicking into place in her mind like a puzzle finally revealing its picture. "So Jacinth acquired your Wish vessel-"
"Stole it." Kieran's voice cracked through the air like thunder, power rippling outward until the windows rattled in their frames. The temperature plummeted, frost crystallizing along the edges of their tea glasses.
"Yes," Mandy continued, his thunderous expression making her want to hide behind the sofa. "Stole it, and then… gave it to me?"
The silence that followed her question felt thick enough to cut with a knife. Even Bach and Mozart seemed to hold their breath, watching the exchange with feline intensity.
Mandy studied his face, searching for answers in those ancient eyes while trying not to think about how close the sofa was. Her cats' steady presence helped anchor her - if they weren't running for cover, maybe she shouldn't either.
"But why would she do that?" The question slipped out before she could stop it. "Why steal your vessel - you said it had been missing for decades - hold onto it all that time, and then give it to me, of all people?"
