Last Wish

”Agent Pythia Sibyl, Theurgy Security Commission.” I held up my badge. “I’m here about the wish.”

John gave me a funny look. The kind of look that said he was thinking about what to say. Nobody liked a government suit knocking on their door.

I moved the badge closer for him to get a better look.

“What’s theurgy?” he asked.

“Magic,” I replied. “The Commission steps in when magic shows up.”

I put away the badge, stuck my hands in my pockets. I slouched a little. I was less threatening that way. Not that I was physically intimidating. But the badge and his guilt did most of that work.

“Let me just put you at ease. You’re not in trouble. Not yet.”

“I’m not?”

“Magic isn’t illegal,” I said.

“It’s not?”

“Not most of it,” I said. “Can I come in?”

He hesitated. “I have a doctor’s appointment I have to get to.”

“John, every time you lie, I get a little buzz in my head. Right here.” I tapped my temple. “Right behind my eyes. And it isn’t a big deal once in a while, but if you stick to it, it’ll put me in a real lousy mood.”

“It will?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” I said. “So can I come in so we can get this over with?”

A voice called from inside his apartment. “You should just let her in.”

 “Okay.” He moved aside.

“You have to say the invitation aloud,” I said.

“Are you a vampire?” he asked.

“Do I look like a vampire?”

He sized me up anew. Short. A few extra stubborn pounds. Gray streaking my short brown hair. His eyes stayed on the sensible shoes for a few moments. One of the reasons I wore them, other than they were good for my arches, was that nobody felt threatened by sensible shoes.

“I don’t know. What does a vampire look like?” he said.

That got a smile from me. “Good question, John. No, I’m not a vampire, but magic plays by its own rules. And I’d just be more comfortable if you’d invite me in.”

“You’re invited.”

I stepped across the threshold. His efficiency apartment was half-packed. A pile of boxes lay stacked in one corner. A woman sat on his couch. She wore jeans and a vintage Pac-Man T-shirt. Her skin was bright red and her hair was literally fire.

“I’m in the middle of moving,” he said, as if it needed to be explained. “This is my . . . uh . . . my genie.”

She worked on her nails with an emery board, pausing to blow flame on her fingertips, changing the nails from black to a sparkling blue. “What did we say about the G word?”

She should’ve been swimming through the stars, transcending into limitless realms beyond human imaginings. But here she was, bound to this world, using her powers for petty mortal concerns. Couldn’t blame her for being unhappy.

“Right. Sorry,” he said. “She’s my . . . friend?”

“How about we skip labels?” she replied. “You can call me Jill. Not my true name, of course.”

“Of course,” I said. “You can call me Pythia. It is my true name.”

“That’s dangerous,” said Jill. “Don’t see a lot of truth magi.”

“We’re not here to talk about me.” I gestured toward the couch beside her. “Why don’t you have a seat, John. This shouldn’t take long.”

He did as asked. “I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong. I didn’t think anyone would notice.”

She laughed. “Someone always notices.”

I said, “Maybe in the old days, someone shows up with unlimited riches, they could always try to pass it off as a sudden windfall. But nowadays, there’s always a paper trail. Most money today is just a number in a ledger somewhere. So when one of those ledgers suddenly has infinity in its entry, it’s going to raise a red flag somewhere.”

“Why didn’t you warn me that would happen?” John asked Jill.

“That’s not my job,” she replied, nibbling at a stubborn hangnail. “Anyway, haven’t you ever read a fairy tale or watched a Twilight Zone episode?”

“It’s fine,” I said. “I’m not the I.R.S., and you’re not in trouble. Wishes are not illegal. Well, some wishes are. If you’d wished to kill somebody or tried to make yourself President, we’d be having a different talk.”

“I didn’t think wishes could kill anybody.”

“Of course wishes can kill people,” Jill said. “Wishes can kill tons of people. Does Mount Vesuvius ring a bell?”

“That was you?” he asked.

“Don’t blame me. I’m just the monkey’s paw of mortal stupidity, not the cause of it.”

“We’re getting off track here,” I said. “John, as long as you don’t do too much damage with your wishes, you’re no concern to me.”

“But won’t infinite money screw with the economy?”

“Now he thinks of it.” She jumped off the couch and went to the fridge. “I need a beer.”

“Depends on how much of it you spend,” I replied. “Prudence is your watchword. Though when you have infinite money, it’s all relative. But none of this involves me. I’m only here to collect our share.”

I could sense his next question before he asked it. It wasn’t just magic that gave me the info but years of practice.

“The T.S.C. isn’t interested in money. Well, no more than any other large organization with budgetary issues. No, I’m here to collect one of your wishes.”

She chuckled. “Everybody wants their cut.”

“Why do you want one of my wishes?” he asked.

I thought about not answering. It went against my nature. Both innate and magically bound. Still, withholding information wasn’t the same as lying. Not usually.

“I assume you’ve heard of Atlantis,” I said.

He nodded.

“Yes, it’s real,” I said. “No, they don’t like us, and we aren’t very fond of them either. And like every cold war, there’s a never-ending arms race. Both sides accumulating enough weapons to destroy the world a hundred times over. Your wish is one of those weapons.”

“But they’re my wishes.”

Jill laughed. “Typical.”

I said, “People have a thing called loss aversion. It means that it feels twice as bad to lose something as to gain that same thing. It explains greed and a wealth of human failings. Right now, that feeling in your gut is telling you this is unfair.”

“She’s my genie,” he said.

“G word,” said Jill. “Last warning.”

“How did you find her?” I asked.

“I don’t see how that matters.”

“You stumbled across her,” I said. “Garage sale. Box of junk. She was bound to a small ring underneath it all.”

“How did you–”

“Truth magic,” I said. “I don’t lie, and the universe doesn’t lie to me. The point is that you lucked into finding an omnipotent servant. Anything your heart desires. But you’re not special, John. You were not chosen. You just found a thing. Good for you. You now have more money than you could ever need. Take the win, and give your country your wish.”

John was not a bad person, but even a good person could be a problem when clutching everything he ever wanted.

“If you wish me dead, it won’t work,” I said.

It was good to know. I couldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true, which was why I didn’t say things without first thinking about them. And just because a wish couldn’t kill me it didn’t mean he couldn’t do other things. There were worst things than being dead, and I didn’t know if John had the imagination or ruthlessness to think of them.

I did have the imagination, but I wisely kept any suggestions to myself.

“Give her the goddamn wish,” said Jill. “It’ll be easier, I promise you.”

He relaxed. “Okay. How do I do it?”

“You wish for it,” she replied, sounding very irritated.

He made the wish. Jill manifested a sparkling marble and tossed it to me.

I dropped it in my pocket. “Your country thanks you.”

“Is that it?” he asked.

“Almost. In four minutes, agents of Atlantis are going to knock on that door. They’ll want your last wish. I can’t let you give it to them.”

“Are you going to kill them?”

“Killing Atlanteans only pisses them off,” I replied.

“Then what are you going to do?”

Again, the truth spilled from my lips.

“I’ll have to kill you, John.”

I’d entertained breaking the news more gently, but that was a hazard of the truth magic. Better to just get it out in the open so we could deal with it.

His face fell. “That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair,” I said. “But there is another choice. You can use your last wish to free Jill here. No more wishes, no more need to kill you.”

I gave him a precious minute to negotiate with himself. He already had more money than he’d ever need, but it wasn’t easy to let go of the promise of your heart’s desire. It was to his credit that he’d given me one wish already. Not everyone could.

“Why don’t you use your wish to free her?” he said.

“It’s not my wish,” I said. “It’s Uncle Sam’s.”

“Well, if I use my last wish, they’ll still be able to take yours.”

“I can protect my wish just fine.”

Jill said nothing, but I could read her thoughts. Not literally. I was a bearer of truth, not psychic. But she must have seen masters come and go through the ages. No doubt some had promised to free her with their last wish, but here she was, still bound to a ring, still serving short-sighted and fallible human beings.

“I can use the wish before they come!” he said.

I said, “Still leaves Jill, an all-powerful wish engine, to fall into their hands.” I tapped my wrist, where I wasn’t wearing a watch. Who did these days? “Minute, thirty-two seconds.”

“I can give the ring to you. You can protect it like your wish.”

“I can,” I said. “But I’ll still kill you.”

He glanced at the door. “Why?”

“Because she deserves to be free. Because no one, not you or me or a goddess of cosmic fire, should be stuck having to bend to every whim of any idiot who finds a magic ring in a garage sale. And if you blow your last wish and pawn the responsibility off on me, I’ll kill you for it.”

“But that’s not fair.”

“Sounds fair to me,” said Jill.

He looked at her. It was easy to not see her as a person, as only a tool. But I spoke the truth, and to John’s credit, he listened. It might have only been self-preservation, but I’d seen plenty of people hurl themselves into the jaws of oblivion for lack of common sense.

He said, “I wish you your freedom.”

Jill set down her beer. Her hair of primordial flame erupted, scorching the ceiling.

“It’s about fucking time.”

She vanished, away to places beyond pale mortal dreams.

The knock came on the door. I opened it to see a pair of Atlantean agents. They wore matching gray suits that went well with their dark blue complexions.

“Too late,” I said.

The Atlanteans turned and walked away.

“You did the right thing,” I said to John. “Take comfort in that. And your endless wealth.”

He smiled. “Oh, yeah.”

I went back to my car. Jill sat on the roof.

“Shouldn’t you be swimming through the stars?” I asked.

“Would you have really killed him?” she said.

“Would I lie to you?”

Smiling, she disappeared.