"So it's there, but invisible to human eyes?"
"Exactly. The mountain humans see is just the shell, if you will. True Qaf, home of the Djinn, exists in that parallel space. Humans only see it if we choose to reveal it."
Mandy's fingers went to the pendant at her throat, its steady warmth a constant reminder of the magic now threading through her life. "Is that where Kieran lives?"
"When he's not busy being stern and princely elsewhere," Jacinth said with a laugh.
"Princely?" Mandy's voice cracked on the word.
"Oh yes." Jacinth's dark eyes sparkled with mischief. "Didn't he mention it? In addition to being one of the elders - an ancient Djinn - Kieran is also a prince of the Djinn."
Mandy's stomach did a slow flip. The stern being who'd explained wishes with such patience wasn't just any Djinn. He was royalty.
"A prince of the Djinn is granting me wishes?" Her voice squeaked.
Jacinth's grin widened, satisfaction radiating from her entire being. "Yes! Isn't it great?"
Mandy sank into her recliner. She'd argued with actual royalty. Made him laugh. A Djinn prince in her modest living room, while Mozart stalked his robe.
Her mouth opened and closed. What did one say about casually chatting with supernatural royalty?
Jacinth set Mozart on the floor and patted her hand. "Some food will help. Dinner's ready."
The familiar statement made everything both better and, somehow, worse. An immortal being discussing dinner like old friends.
Jacinth slid the garlic bread into the oven.
"Oh! Wait! The oven needs preheating."
Jacinth slid her a glance, and winked. "It is."
Of course. Because - magic. Mandy scratched Bach's ears as garlic bread aroma filled her apartment.
A soft chime sounded - had her oven always done that? The salad bowl floated from the refrigerator to her table. The garlic bread followed, perfectly sliced in an unfamiliar basket, wrapped in fine linen.
Her everyday plates transformed to elegant china, with gleaming silverware. Water glasses materialized, condensation already beading their sides.
"Sit." Jacinth's stern look brooked no argument.
Mandy started to protest, but Jacinth's raised eyebrow stopped her. Her body welcomed the reprieve as she eased from the recliner, shooing Bach from her lap.
Steam curled upward from the sauce pan as Jahsinth lifted the lid. Expertly, the Djinn heaped pasta onto the plates, then spooned sauce over. A moment later, the plates floated through the air, settling onto the table with a dusting of fresh Parmesan.
"This looks amazing," Mandy said, inhaling deeply.
Jacinth settled across from her with a flourish. "Dig in!"
Mandy twirled pasta on her fork and took a bite, savoring her familiar recipe made extraordinary by magic.
"Perfect. Though I can't tell if it's magic or just hunger."
"Sometimes hunger is the best seasoning," Jacinth laughed.
Mozart appeared at Mandy's feet while Bach claimed the empty chair, both eyeing their plates.
"Don't even think about it," Mandy warned the cats, though she couldn't help but chuckle at their eternal optimism. "You know spaghetti sauce isn't good for cats."
"Tell me more about your family," she said, reaching for garlic bread.
