Unbound by Kay Danella

would be an inopportune moment. She acted as though his admission of being djinn had never happened. If he were to mist, the surprise might be dangerous. He did not blame her for her skepticism; he, too, preferred to ignore the truth of his captivity and did not want to dwell on it.
    Her hands danced over the panel, altering the patterns of the sparkles, but not in the familiar ways of weavers. The panel’s lights changed, the orange ones shifting to green.
    A square with a red ring flashed , flashed , flashed , turned blue. She slapped the square.
    The ship lurched. Energies flared around them, the strands warping in a familiar pattern, forming—
    A portal?
    Romir stared. If he had breath, he would have lost it. The magnitude of this working! He could sense the weave drawing on that powerful vortex he had seen in the bowels of the ship, vast energies raging against his consciousness as they swept past him into the shining weave . . . and yet he could not feel Asrial manipulating the vortex. No vyzier could hope to accomplish this by himself—not and survive. Only once before had he himself experienced such power.
    The next moment, it all became madness. For an endless heartbeat the universe exploded in myriads of colors—too many to count, too many to name, colors he had never imagined. The strands of existence stretched and warped.
    Another lurch. The universe resolved itself, and the weave collapsed, unraveling faster than he could follow.
    The glass revealed a different set of stars.
    Asrial bent her attention to the panel, pressing ciphers as though nothing of significance had happened.
    “That was—”
    She turned a mild frown to him. “That was Jump.” Clearly she did consider it nothing of significance. After a few more taps, she leaned back and released her straps.
    “It is safe now?” He could not forget the madness of the universe exploding around him. It played before his mind’s eye like the fluttering of wind-borne petals, a furious storm of incandescent possibilities whirling free before resolving into a single reality. What sort of world had he been summoned into that she could shrug off such a feat of power?
    The question earned him another frown, puzzlement shadowing her brown eyes. “The autopilot’s engaged. Anyway, we can’t Jump any distance until the drive’s coils are fully recharged.”

Five
    Romir trailed after Asrial, feeling as extraneous as a fifth limb, a loose thread dangling from a weave. Purposeless. A strange emotion for one such as he. A djinn had no purpose. It did not matter if a djinn supported the vyzier’s goal. The only reason for their existence was obedience to the master’s will. He had known that even before his capture and enslavement and had thought himself inured to the loss.
    No hopes. No dreams. Those were for the fortunate free.
    Yet now he felt the lack keenly. Cool air on a shallow wound, not fatal but more painful than a deeper cut. Was this the result of his peculiar freedom? Unbound yet constrained by his prison’s tugging.
    Deep in the heart of him, he feared that freedom would not last. The time would come when that line ran out; then he would be drawn back.
    Carrying a tablet, Asrial entered the room with his prison, an air of purpose about her. From the ledge, she chose an ostentatious trifle box carved from askeiwood and covered with gold and deep red marjan stones. She examined it with great care, according it more attention than such frippery deserved. Only the soft taps of her stylus on the tablet broke the humming silence. Seeming to have come to some conclusions of her own, she asked him no questions, her lack of curiosity suggesting she had given no credence to his admission to being djinn. She treated him as if he were some hapless stowaway the gods had thrust upon her. If only that were truth.
    Unlike in times past when vyziers demanded his attendance, this silence oppressed, weighing on Romir’s spirit like the gray mists of his prison.