

_**Deliverance**_

_By Véronique Launier_

_Smashwords Edition_

_Copyright 2013 Véronique Launier_

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**Smashwords Edition, License Notes**

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Book Design by Veronique Launier

Cover art: Nakissa Photo © Ewa Krupinska http://www.ewakrupinska.com

Model: Maryam Amiri

Makeup: Rashin Maleki

Tehran skyline © Babak Farrokhi flickr.com/photos/farrokhi/

Persepolis griffin © Nick Taylor flickr.com/photos/indigoprime/

Archway © Asif Akbar sxc.hu/profile/asifthebes

Font XXII ARABIANONENIGHTSTAND @ Lecter Johnson  <http://doubletwostudios.tumblr.com/>

_This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental._

_ISBN: 9781301096527_

_author@veroniquelaunier.com_

_http://www.veroniquelaunier.com_
FOREWORD

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I dedicated this novel to a boy I never knew. A story I heard from a friend about a boy who killed himself because he believed he would never be able to follow his musical dreams in a country who seems intent on crushing them. He was a boy who quit too soon, who didn't get the chance to see his friends reach some form of success in following the same dreams. It was in his honor that I named Siavash, one of the members of Farâsoo.

The research of this novel was for me, a life changing experience. I'm not sure how I can even put into words how much this novel took over every aspect of my life for the past few years. The extensive research (memoirs read, documentaries watched, friends made, meals eaten, etc.) was such a life enriching experience. When I started researching Iran for another book I was writing, I was wary. I never expected to fall in love with the culture, the people, the language and the food.

Still, after over two years of research, this book may not be the most absolute representation of Iran. It is not meant to be. It is a work of fantasy fiction set mostly in a certain neighborhood of the capital city of Tehran. In trying to discern the Iranian identity, I have talked to so many different people. People of different social classes, with different belief systems, different values, different goals and aspirations. And in the process, I realized that the human experience is at its core the same whether you are Iranian or Canadian. What had started off as a quest to identify the differences between our cultures became more about bridging gaps and understanding that we are all not so different.

I found it intimidating to write a story set in a country that can often be so misunderstood by the media. Because, like in any other country, the government and the people of Iran are not synchronous. The people themselves do not all fit a mold. Though I believe my characters, along with their wants, needs, interactions, and opinions, could very well exist as part of a specific group and social class; it is not to say that all Iranians are like them. Just as the Iranians portrayed in the media as extremists only fit a small portion of the population.

Iran has a predominantly young (about 70% of the population is under 35), urban (also about 70%) population that is predominantly vying for change. But though some Iranians are, like Nakissa and her friends and family, very Westernized, many are looking for balance of government and religion and for freedom and change on their own terms (Not the terms dictated by the Western world).

Though I hope you, like me, will find yourself curious about Iran and the Iranian people, and will want to read further into it, the main goal of this story is to entertain you while immersing you in a world rarely seen in Young Adult literature. If I accomplish at least this task, then I have accomplished my goals.
_For Siavash, who gave up too soon.  
Here, his dreams can still come true._

She kept her head up as they marched her up to the roof; she breathed deeply and gathered her essence within her. After over two thousand years of control, this wasn't the time to lose her grip. But never had she found herself in such a situation before. She manipulated the small ball of power. So little power.

Her eyes moved to the guard who intended to lead her to her death. She reached towards him. Perhaps she could trick him into helping her somehow. Before she could place her hand on his shoulder, a sharp pain in the shin dropped her to her knees. She raised her eyes towards her attacker, a new man she hadn't noticed until then. How was she caught unaware like this? She cast a probing strand of essence his way but came across a stone barrier. Stone. She tried to adjust her eyes, ignoring the other guard who was yelling at her to get up.

Once she could finally focus, everything else faded around her. At that moment she and Ramtin were the only two people in the world. Her heart raced but she wasn't surprised to see him there; he never surprised her. Ramtin, the cursed musician who had been her rival since the days they had played at King Khosrau II's royal court together, leaned towards her.

He lowered himself to come face to face with her.

"Looks like I win after all," he hissed through clenched teeth.

Nagissa didn't waste her breath. Instead she reached for his face. Whether she reached for a final touch or if she actually believed she could do something to defend herself, not even she knew. But if only she could reach past that stone barrier... He was too strong. His masquerade as one of the revolutionaries had given him access to the essence of countless prisoners with powers. He stood upright, and grabbed her arm to pull her up with him. He whispered something in her ear; his breath warm against her shivering body, but she couldn't hear.

And it didn't matter anymore...

Then, something else caught her attention. Something important enough to pull her away from his magnetism.

Below her, on the ground of the school compound that acted as headquarters for the Revolution, a young girl, maybe fourteen or fifteen, was being led to one of the tents erected next to the main building. What Nagissa considered doing was a risk, the biggest risk she had ever taken, but in her state, she couldn't think of another option. The girl didn't appear to be slated for execution, her essence was too bright. She wasn't a witch, but it was brighter than the average person's. She was a survivor. If she was to put all her hope into one thing, she really couldn't find anything better in the dimness of her surroundings.

She manipulated her essence, making sure she gathered every last strand of it, everything that made her who she was. She hesitated briefly, wondering how it had come to that. How she could have woken from centuries of watching just in time for her demise. In time to see yet another dark era for her home, for the country that she loved. She whispered a silent prayer, though she wasn't sure to whom she uttered it, and quickly and powerfully, lest she was stopped or changed her mind, lest she thought on the consequences of her actions, she released it all into the young prisoner.

When she was brought to face the firing squad, her eyes were dead. Her shoulders slouched; she waited for the bullet to finish what had been started. She didn't remember much, only that there was no reason to live. Nothing to fight for. She just wished for death to find her. And it did.

Something is wrong. It's not just the fact that my parents have gone silent while watching television in the living room; it's something I feel in my gut. I put the bowl in the dishwasher, gently, as if it is the most precious thing I own, and I make my way out of the kitchen into the living room where my parents are glued to the TV.

The images there don't make any sense. Videos of North America's biggest cities flash on the screen one by one. New York, Washington, Los Angeles, Toronto, Montreal. All in varying states of chaos.

"What's happening?"

My mother shifts her attention from the TV and I can see a tear in her eye.

"We don't know. Earthquakes and other disasters are spreading throughout the American continent. They say America is paying for its sins."

If this is indeed a time of reckoning, I have no doubt our country won't fare better. America doesn't hold a monopoly on sins.

The nudge of apprehension in my stomach expands. I'm nauseous. There is something wrong with the very air in this room. I eye the chandelier situated directly above Maman and Bijan's armchairs. Is it trembling? No, everything is still. It's just my nerves. But something is happening; I can feel it coiled in the air around me.

"We have to take cover." In the silent room, my shouting takes on a surreal quality. Bijan turns towards me and pushes his glasses back up on his nose.

"There is no need to worry, Nakissa jan."

A new special bulletin comes on and interrupts his argument. On the television, more images flash. This time we see London, Paris, Moscow.

While Maman starts praying (since when does she pray?), Bijan pretends he didn't see anything unusual and continues reassuring me. "Iran rests on a different tectonic plate than –"

I don't wait for him to finish. I can't claim to know as much about earthquakes as my stepfather – a geologist who works for an oil company – but I'm pretty sure that America and Europe aren't on the same plate either. And besides, there is this ticking clock inside my head and it's telling me we have to take cover. Now.

"Please," I beg. "Please listen to me. We need to take cover." My voice raises in panic and they take notice.

"Where's Ebi?" I ask, finally remembering my half-brother.

I don't know if she's just humoring me, but Maman stands up and calls him. There is no answer. No surprise since Ebi spends his evenings playing video games with a headset blasting the violent sounds into his skull.

"Get Ebi! We'll take cover under the dining room table." Bijan barks the order like an army general, and proceeds to crawl under our solid mahogany shelter. A moment later, I follow him. Maman reappears into the room pushing a very confused Ebi in front of her. He rolls his eyes but he crawls towards us.

Just as Maman crouches to join us, the shaking begins. The sound is what really gets to me at first. I expected the low rumble, but the metallic whining reminds me of fingernails on a chalkboard and sets my nerves on edge. And then the sound is the last thing on my mind. I open my mouth to scream out a warning, but though everything is moving in slow motion, it's already too late and Maman doesn't get the chance to make it to the safety of our imported dining table before the bookshelf comes down to crush her.

The car cut a corner too tightly and before I knew it, I was practically leaning on her. Our proximity made me uncomfortable. It's not her that I want, I repeated to myself for the hundredth time since I found out the truth about her.

"Careful! Are you trying to kill us?" I ask.

She jerked the car around even rougher.

"No, _it's_ trying to kill us." Her teeth clenched and she released her tight grip on the steering wheel to point in the general direction of the monster chasing us. "What I'm trying to do is drive your sorry butt to the airport so you can abandon us... leave us with this mess."

Aude has always been melodramatic. I guess this is what drew me to her in the first place and what made us fight so much afterwards. I hated to admit it, but I always preferred the drama centered on me. Being around her was insufferable, not only because she reminded me of Marguerite, though this, I had to admit, was one of the leading factors, but because she was... well, Aude.

"It's just a small rock demon. I could get rid of it in minutes, if I didn't have a flight to catch."

"You can't do anything without my help! And if you hadn't spent so long getting ready, we wouldn't have to rush like this."

This is why I had to leave. When her presence didn't tear my heart and burn my soul, she just irritated me. That Ramtin had texted her and provided us with a good lead almost on the other side of the world, well, that was just good fortune. I just hated how long we had had to wait to act on it.

Immediately after the Mohawk prophecy of the seventh generation had been set in motion, though earthquakes heavily damaged Montreal, we felt like we still could get events under our control. Rivers burning, birds falling from the sky, rock monsters, nothing we couldn't handle. But it didn't take long for us to realize the problems went beyond just a small prophecy, beyond just our city, country, or even continent. That's when I started getting antsy.

Aude swerved the car again in a manner that made me feel like I would lose my lunch, and then slammed on the brakes.

"We're going to have to fight it," she said through clenched teeth.

We were on a small side road, one of those shortcuts she favored. The ones that normally resulted in getting lost. She already had her seatbelt off and her door opened. That was Aude for you, when she felt in her element. She liked to take control, and these days fighting supernatural creatures were as much her elements as playing in her band.

I knew the drill. I had to keep it distracted. Keep it away from her. She could drain its essence and turn it into dust, but that took too much concentration. She needed me to run interference.

I ran up to the creature and attempted to punch it in the stomach. The impact sent a wave of pain burning a path from my fist to my elbow.

"Ow!"

Aude rolled her eyes. "Come on, Garnier! Don't be stupid about this. Shift!" She sent me a wave of essence, the life energy she could control as a witch, as if to cement her point. But it hadn't been lack of essence that had made me hesitate about shifting. Truth be told, I was rather attached to the dashing designer outfit I was wearing.

"There's just no point owning any nice clothing when you're a Gargoyle!" I caught her eye roll before I shifted.

In my live rock monster form, my muscles burned with energy. I could take on the world, I could... I didn't have time finish the thought before a great big rock fist smashed into my side. Pain seared through me and cut my breath short. I needed to concentrate. I jumped at him, aiming directly for his chest and knocked him to the ground, but he shook me off and stood back up. I circled him, pulled back to get better momentum and jumped again. Except this time I hit nothing but air. The stone monster had crumbed into sand and small rubble.

Aude cocked her head, and rubbed her hands on her faded hole-ridden skinny jeans. "Come on, you'll miss your flight. And I don't have all night either. Guillaume and I have band practice tonight."

She threw the set of spare clothing I keep in a paper bag in the car trunk in my direction and slid into the driver's seat. I quickly shifted back, slipped on the clothes and joined her.

I checked the car clock. "Not going to make it."

"We'll see about that." Aude stepped on the accelerator.

"I don't think buying you a car was Guillaume's smartest idea."

"I don't think you heading off to Iran without even a witch to help you deal with rock monsters is a very good idea either!"

I softened. There had been so much tension between us lately. From what some had dubbed the _apocalypse-in-progress_ to Aude's often difficult personality and the memories she brought back about her great-aunt Marguerite, we had been getting along less and less well. What started as teasing would get her on the defensive and we'd argue. All. The. Time. But, under it all, Aude was a friend – family, really – and she was really worried about me.

"I'll be all right."

"You better be."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll beat you up." She grinned.

Once we made it to the airport, we realized we shouldn't have been worried about missing my flight. Though no earthquakes had shaken us for several weeks, the airports were just now re-opening to non-emergency, civilian flights, and it seemed everything was chaos. And of course, everything was delayed.

I hugged Aude goodbye and started the now even stricter process of getting through airport security. Measures put in place since the  _world-wide-state-of-emergency_.

The excitement hit me. I was heading off to a land full of history and memories. I was setting off on my own, independent for the first time in centuries.

Freedom.

Leyli chain smokes her third cigarette while fiddling with the car stereo. The Tehran traffic is at a standstill so we aren't going anywhere. She discovers an old favorite European song on her playlist and sings along.  Her bright pink headscarf, which covers maybe two centimeters of her hair, matches her lipstick shade for shade. Huge sunglasses hide her eyes, but I can guess she's probably wearing her blue contacts. She's my best friend and I love her dearly our priorities are so different. Leyli would never risk going to the hospital without looking her best. There are young doctors there after all.

Between songs she turns to me – I think the traffic may have moved forward a few centimeters by now – and places her hand on my shoulder.

"It will be nice to have her back home."

I nod in agreement.

Maman's legs were in a horrible state after she was crushed by that bookshelf. There were fears she would never walk again. But a few expensive surgeries later, she is finally coming home.

"Bijan warned me that I'll still have my share of responsibilities, though. Maman will need a lot of help at the beginning."

Leyli nods absent-mindedly and tugs at a strand of hair, releasing it from the veil. I scan the cars around us until I see what caught her attention. About two car-lengths back, a BMW whose passengers look like university students, also idles.

If it weren't for Ehsan, I'd be checking the boys out right along with her, but I already have the perfect boyfriend. So I do what I now always do while Leyli is car-flirting. I mentally compare the specimen in the car with my own boyfriend. Sure, the BMW seems classy enough, but my boy drives a Benz – though it is technically his daddy's car.

These boys are trying to achieve that perfectly coiffed bed head look, but fall short of the mark. The strands of hair on their heads are just too well separated and they are sporting just a bit too much hair gel. It's the same style as Ehsan, but at least he makes it look natural. Effortless. Though I know it's everything but. I've seen the work he puts into his appearance when he has to fix his hair using the car's rear view mirror in a parking lot before we go somewhere.

"So what do you think?"

Sometimes I think Leyli can read my mind.

"I would say by the way they are looking at you that you stand a chance."

"I know  _that_!" she laughs. "Do you think they're worth my time?"

The traffic has moved a little, but Leyli hasn't. She's waiting for the BMW to catch up to her. This way she'll be able to exchange a few words with the boys and maybe even pass them her mobile number.

"They seem  _cool  _enough." I emphasize the word cool, because isn't that the most important thing? Well, that, and if you want to plan for the future, then money matters too. Even I'm forced to be a little shallow if I want to make sure I can keep my middle class lifestyle. Especially in this failing economy. But the car they're driving indicates money is probably not a problem.

"Not as cool as Ehsan," Leyli sighs.

Pride blooms in my chest. No, not as cool as Ehsan. But he is one of a kind after all.

Finally, the traffic has moved enough that the boys' car is next to ours. People behind us are honking and yelling obscenities to get her to move, but she ignores them. She exchanges smiles with the boys and takes the mobile number from the one in the driver's seat. The one wearing a football shirt. I suddenly imagine him in a bus filled with football-shirt-wearing jocks carrying flags and those annoying trumpets and chanting "Iran! Iran! Iran!" in that thickhead sporting way. God! In my mind, he might as well be a wrestling champion. I shudder.

My reaction doesn't fail to catch Leyli's attention. After she beams one last smile at the boy – who I can now only picture shirtless holding up those huge wooden clubs with a dumb smile on his face – and has driven up the few spots, she turns to me. None too early, because one of the annoyed obscenity-uttering drivers has gotten out of his car and is storming towards us. He returns to his car now that he's the one blocking traffic.

"Okay, what did you notice that I didn't? What was wrong with him?"

I almost blurt out that he is a wrestling champion, but then remember that, in fact, the only thing wrong with him is that he's a football fan. So I shrug.

"Tell me," she insists.

"It's nothing. He was wearing a football shirt and you know how I feel about jocks."

"That's all? Nakissa joon, you should have seen the look of disgust on your face! I thought it was something bad. Like maybe he had a fat stomach or wore jogging pants or something."

I laugh and this encourages her to continue.

"I thought maybe you had noticed that he dresses like the president!" As usual, she rolls her eyes as she uses the  _P word_. "Could you imagine?"

By the time we reach the hospital, we have tears in our eyes from laughing so much.

Maman won't stop complaining. Apparently everyone has been mistreating her, ignoring her, or treating her like an invalid. She's been in the car for only five minutes and already Leyli and I are exchanging glances. Maman is not usually this high maintenance, but like all mothers, she can be over-dramatic. She loves to emphasize her suffering and then scoff at anyone who offers her pity. Sometimes I worry I'm a little bit like her.

The traffic is still a nightmare – when is it not? – and I wish we could just get home. Leyli's on her best behavior but she and Maman don't always see eye to eye on everything... or anything... and I'm just waiting for Maman to snap at her.

Leyli is answering Maman's questions about her brother Mehran who is practically a genius and will probably receive a scholarship to attend university in the US. I'm just waiting on her to start picking on my own grades which are good, just not good enough according to her, or to tell Leyli she should be more like her brother – she's done that before.

We inch past a small grocery store I've never noticed before. At first I think it's just the boredom of traffic, and trying to escape Maman's imminent nagging that makes it catch my attention, but there's something more. The building is old and rundown. One of those converted buildings from the past. When I look at it, images of how it must have looked fifty years ago flash before my eyes.

It feels so real that I'm instantly disoriented. The air seems thick around me, filled with a current I can almost manipulate. It's more than just the pollution. Music escapes the old building. The ancient languid, sorrowful sound strikes a chord inside of me. I feel like I own this song somehow. It belongs to me, in my heart, and it's a shock to hear it on the outside.

"Have you heard this song before?" I ask absent-mindedly.

"Um yeah, it only plays on the radio every hour." Leyli is referring to the latest mindless Persian summer tune imported from L.A. currently blaring from the car stereo and from everywhere in the city.

"Not on the radio. The traditional music coming from the store."

Leyli turns down the radio, eliciting a grateful sigh from Maman who is sitting in the front seat next to her, and cranes her neck from side to side. She raises her impeccably manicured eyebrows.

"Azizam, I hear nothing. Maybe you are just going crazy." She tilts her head and shifts her eyes to the seat next to her but Maman seems to be oblivious to the motion. Instead, she is peering around curiously.

"I'm sorry, Nakissa jan. I also hear nothing. It was probably just that cheap music you listen to; it's harming your hearing."

Obviously, there's something wrong with  _their_  hearing because the music is still playing and it's loud. The melody haunts me. Shivers crawl up my arms like tiny spiders, and I rub them to shake the feeling. Finally, the traffic moves again, and the music fades into the background, but not from my mind.

I haven't been back home for more than a few hours when Leyli texts me. She wants to go out and meet up with a couple friends at the coffee shop. Normally, I'm all for it but tonight I just want to lay low. I buy some time by telling her I need a shower and I wander into Ebi's room. My little brother's in his usual position, lounging on his bed, video game controller in his hand.

I scan his room for what I'm looking for, and right away I find it, leaning against one of his poster-plastered walls. Ebi is seriously the coolest eight-year-old out there. His guitar, an old acoustic one that Bijan passed down to him, is covered in graffiti-like doodles and line-drawings of big American brands like Coca Cola and Converse.

"Can I borrow your guitar?" I ask him.

"What?" he shouts over the obviously-way-too-loud video game blasting in his headphones.

I step over the junk on the floor – before her accident, Maman would have kept his room clean for him, but there's no way I'm touching that mess – to get to his guitar, pick it up and hold it up to him while raising my eyebrows at him as a question. He shrugs so I take it as a yes, and exit the room before I gag on the smell of rotting milk coming from somewhere under the heaps of dirty laundry.

Back in my room, I push my door closed for a little privacy. It's been months since I practiced music of any sort, and though I wasn't bad at it, I was never really good either.

I plop down on the side of my bed and pluck at some strings absent-mindedly. My mind wanders to the tune that came from that run down market. I imagine the building once again like it must have appeared fifty years ago, but suddenly I'm looking at something else, and I know it's not Tehran anymore.

I recognize Esfahan and for the first time, I understand why the proverb says Esfahan is half the world, because I'm seeing the city in its glory. I'm on a balcony over-looking a large square filled with tents and entertainers, fire jugglers and acrobats. Between my fingers are the delicate strings of a harp and I'm playing  _that_  song.

The sound of the harp gradually changes to the guitar and I return to reality. But the strange thing is I'm still playing the song that captured my imagination. My fingers move between the strings as if they have a mind of their own. I must have learned it in my lessons. I guess this is why the melody seemed so familiar, but strangely, I can't picture the music sheet for it.

My mobile dings, notifying me of an incoming text, and I reluctantly disengage myself from the guitar to check it out. It's Leyli. She's at the door and I have little choice but to come out.

On our way to the coffee shop, Leyli and I pass  _the_  store again and I still feel drawn to it, though I don't hear the music anymore. When I ask Leyli if we can stop, she raises an eyebrow at me but says nothing; she just parks the car and follows me in.

The assortment of things for sale can only be described as random. Some groceries line the barely stocked shelves in the center aisles, while the wall shelves contain miscellaneous electronic equipment. The back wall displays a few carpets and a glass counter show off more electronics and some imitation cologne. Leyli leans over the counter to take a better look at something and the shopkeeper rushes to help her.

His originally annoyed tone takes a different timbre when he notices her designer sunglasses and handbag. He begins offering her "a good price" on several colognes until he sees that she is clearly not interested. This is when he smiles and pulls a box from under the counter. In it, a few cans of whisky make a metallic cling sound as they rub against some bottles of brand name vodka.

"Maybe the lady is interested in some  _special_  merchandise?" he says in a way that would lead one to believe that not every shop on this street is also selling contraband.

"Ask her," Leyli says, nodding her head in my direction, "I'm not even sure why we're here."

To be honest, I don't know why we're here either. Yet, I just can't help but believe there is a clue to that weird music here, somewhere.

And then I see it.

Tucked into the corner of the shop, like an afterthought, is an antique harp. It makes no sense for it to be there. It doesn't fit in. The harp looks really old. The gilded carvings are packed with dust and dirt from years of neglect. Still, as I look at it, I just can't help but see its potential. I see it like it must have looked in its glory. I reach towards it.

"Don't touch that, it will break," the shopkeeper calls out.

I ignore him. Reason tells me I should listen to the man, but I can't. It's stronger than me. I have to touch it. Without thinking, I kneel in front of it, place my hands on each side, and start playing. My fingers glide against the silk strings and the motions feel natural, but the instrument is out of tune, so what comes out is anything but graceful or beautiful or anything, really. The shop keeper eyes me, and I'm afraid he's going to give me an earful about performing my music in public or something stupid like that. He takes purposeful steps towards me, and I detangle myself from the harp. His eyes are clouded by something. Doubt? Fear? I'm not sure.

"Do you play professionally?"

I shake my head. What a question. I've never even played the harp. I scan the store for Leyli and finally find her. She's standing stock still watching me.

"Well, aren't you full of surprises?" she calls out. There is a bitter edge to her tone I just don't understand.

"Follow me." The man walks towards a back door to another room.

I exchange a confused glance with Leyli and she nods her head in his direction. Leyli is reckless as usual, but I worry.

At the door, she pauses. "Well? Are you coming?" There is a challenge to her tone that I can't resist. I'm tired of always being the voice of reason. A quiet voice that is always ignored anyway. I shrug and follow her.

We walk through some sort of lounge area. It's a lot better decorated than I would have expected. The carpets spread along the floors muffle the sound of our footsteps. Cushions are spread along the walls and a water pipe sits in the corner of the room. The man doesn't pause, but continues down a narrow staircase. I feel a little uneasy at how the old crumbling brick walls close in on me there. The corridor feels rough like it's been chiseled out of the land. Our heads barely clear the few bare light bulbs which hang from the ceiling, the wires tacked to the stone. We should turn back now, before it's too late – if it isn't already too late. I look back to Leyli, to see if she shares my thoughts, but her eyes sparkle in the naked light. She gives me a wide smile but I say nothing. Strangely enough though, for once my instincts are on the same wavelength as hers. Nothing about this situation actually _feels_ dangerous.

The corridor isn't very long and before we know it, we are standing in a nicely illuminated room. The sweet smell of flavored tobacco fills the air.

"Who is this?" I spin to face the unknown speaker, but instead I'm distracted by what I see.

Equipment. The metal soundboards glitter in the halogen light. The voice comes from a leather sectional tucked in the corner of the room. There, a boy – presumably the owner of the voice – relaxes next to a girl with bleached blonde uncovered hair and a tank top. They share a water pipe. A couple guitars carelessly lean against the furniture. The glass coffee table contains a pile of English music magazines. Lavish fabrics in reds and gold hang from the ceiling and compliment the warm jewel tones of the Persian carpets underfoot. Directly across this small lounge, the knobs, lights and sliders of the soundboard reflect against a glass partition. This is a real deal professional underground recording studio.

But before I can come to terms with everything else, I see her. She is a twin to the one I saw upstairs, but in perfect restored condition. She calls to me like she is mine and I am hers. As soon as I put my fingers on her, the dream comes back, but it's brighter this time. The harp between my hands is the same, yet everything else is different. I'm back on a balcony overlooking the busy square. It's daytime now and the square is filled with the tents of merchants peddling their wares.

A hand falls on my shoulder and I turn around expecting to see Leyli and the studio, but I'm still in the dream and the hand belongs to a familiar man. My heart skips. I'm not sure if I love him or hate him, I think I have done both at different times of my life. His appearance is neat, his dark hair is long, but what catches my attention more than anything is the gentle yet piercing gaze that comes from his murky green eyes.

"Come Nagissa," he says. "The King awaits."

I let go of the harp and stand up. In the dim studio lighting, a small group of people has materialized in front of me and I wonder if I made a scene while sleepwalking. Surely this was some sort of sleepwalking episode, what else could it be?

"Bravo! Afarin!" the shopkeeper praises me. "What talent you have. Are you sure you weren't professionally trained?"

I shake my head, not trusting my voice. Is the harp really so similar to the guitar or is there something really weird happening to me?

"I don't know how you feel about rock music, but I manage the band Farâsoo. Roxana here," he points to the pretty blonde who makes Leyli's makeup application look conservative, "is the lead singer. Amir-Reza," this time he points to the boy who had spoken before I noticed all the recording equipment, "plays guitar. Siavash and Farhad aren't here."

He waits and I feel like he is waiting for my answer, though he never asked a question.

"Hello," I say to the two band members.

Roxana sweeps her long bangs out of her eyes. "What I think Davood is trying to say is we've been looking to add a traditional sound to our music and we've never heard such an amazing authentic sound as what you just plucked the shit out of that harp!"

"You want me to play the harp for one of your songs?"

"No, azizam," the shopkeeper, Davood, cuts in. "We want you to join the band and be a member of Farâsoo."

I tried to flag down one of the reckless cab drivers speeding through the busy streets of Tehran and, frustrated, I looked to the crowd around me to see if anyone else was having better luck. Last time I was here, this land had a different name and, at first glance, a different culture. But I'd been tracking Ramtin through the underground scene for the past few days and I knew, by then, that what you got of Tehran at first glance was very different from its true heartbeat.

Once I finally got a cab, I didn't even bother to negotiate with the driver. I knew he was very politely ripping me off because, let's face it, even with my perfect, though over-formal and outdated, mastery of the Persian language, I was still, obviously, a foreign tourist. A different day, I would have won him over with my charm but not tonight. It was the least of my concerns. Rumors had Ramtin's band playing at a private party in the north end of town, but I'd followed rumors for three nights and always missed him. He was a slippery bastard.

It was not the first time I found myself wishing my family was there to help, but another part of me enjoyed the solitude. The others could be suffocating sometimes. The all too familiar lump in my throat resurfaced as I thought of Vincent; not all my family was still around to drive me crazy. I shook the idea out of my head. These events had to stop before they claimed more lives. I needed to concentrate on Ramtin. He was important.

Actually, here in Tehran, he was very important, it seemed. I'd even heard of him referred to as a hero, of sorts. It made some sense, what with his triumphant return home after successfully taking on the American music scene. I might even have agreed with the people and found it heroic, if not a little bit suicidal. The way he flamboyantly ignored how almost everything he did here was highly frowned upon and, in many cases, illegal, made him an admirable symbol for change. Maybe I would have also looked up to him, were it not for my knowledge of what he is. But I did know, and this is why I was here, travelling to what felt like the other side of the world, for the first time in about three hundred years.

Back in the seventeen hundreds, I had avoided Ramtin instead of chasing him. I hadn't liked him then either, but back then he'd only been an inconvenience, maybe even a rival. My attention had been captured by a different ancient gargoyle and the way the air around her was always filled with music.

The taxi's abrupt stop snapped my focus to the scenery at hand. At first glance, there was nothing spectacular, just another Tehran traffic jam. But the song resonating from the building was anything but ordinary. It came straight from the very memories I had just been indulging in.

I remembered the first time I had heard that song on a hot night in Esfahan. The way the musician's black hair framed her face and wide eyes. She hadn't been my first love, but it was a memorable one. It could have been a great one, except she had guarded her heart too closely. Her honey-tinged eyes and the music that escaped her fingers spoke of sorrow and loss. My heart still tightened when I thought of her.

I'd never told anyone about her. She was a secret love, someone unattainable. Even to me. She was one of us, but more. The essence that ran through her was pure in a way I never knew existed. Not until she introduced me to Ramtin. They seemed to be the same; him and her. Grace and elegance and a certain edge that the rest of our kind simply lacked. Marguerite had reminded me of her in a way. She had that spirit, though it had been a faded version of it.

Of course she was the first thing that had come to my mind when I'd first thought of coming to Iran, but I hadn't planned on seeing her this time. For one thing, I couldn't trust her. She may have been in league with Ramtin. I never understood their relationship. But when I heard that music, it no longer mattered. I asked the taxi to stop, paid him about twice what he would normally make in one day, and walked into the general store.

The bell on the door alerted the shopkeeper of my presence and he came out from a back room, followed by two young girls.

One of them looked a bit like  _her_. I should have realized everything in this land would remind me of her, but I thought I was finally free of her. I had hardly thought of her in over a century.

The girls said their goodbyes to the shopkeeper and tucked fly-away strands of hair into their head scarves before they left.

"How can I help?" He spoke English with a thick accent. It was usually considered pretty safe to assume I was a foreigner and it seemed everyone was dying to practice their English no matter how little of it they knew.

"I heard of a good harp player that sometimes plays here," I said. It was an absurd thing to say, but there was no way I should have been able to hear the music from the street if my hearing was at all human. Why would a harpist play in a grocery/electronics store for that matter?

The man frowned. "You're friends with them, then?" he pointed to the door.

So she was just an ordinary girl after all. Well, I had a lot to worry about without tracking a musically gifted girl who somehow got her hands on Nagissa's songs.

I thanked the shopkeeper and was about to exit the building when I saw an antique harp leaning against a wall.

"Is this for sale?"

"Hatman! Of course! But it is very old and very, very expensive, my friend."

I shrugged and started to walk away. The man followed me to the door.

"I will make you a very special price," he said.

I wasn't interested. What would I do with a harp? I hadn't come to Iran on a soul searching mission intent on reopening old wounds. I left the store.

The late winter air is crisp and a thin layer of powdery snow covers the streets of Tehran. Very soon spring will spread across the city, but for now I shiver against the cold and kiss Leyli goodbye. She's off to the Laleh Café to hang out with some of our girlfriends and, of course, to flirt with boys.

I grip the piece of paper Davood gave me with the band info. The soft paper feels rough in my hands, like it's trying to get my attention. I breathe deeply. I could do it. I could play in a band. I'm not a goody-goody. I take risks, the same as everyone else. But what if my sudden talent with the harp is nothing but a fluke? People seriously don't just become good with instruments overnight. And what would Maman say? Would she approve? She would worry about my safety, of course, but I don't think she'd mind as long as my other responsibilities don't suffer.

My footsteps barely make a sound on the sidewalk; actually, it seems as if nothing is making any noise anywhere. Like the sounds of a city of over eight million people have suddenly become muffled and distant. My heart beats faster and I spin to look behind me more than once because the hair at the back of my neck is rising like someone is following me. Yet every time I see the same sight: a nearly empty street. I slow beside the alley I usually take home, but it doesn't feel like a good idea. I hesitate a moment longer, and keep moving. The shiver has spread along the rest of my body. I hurry my pace.

I'm a few steps from the sanctuary of my apartment building when the ding of my phone startles me. An incoming text message. I swipe my finger on the screen apprehensively to unlock my phone and look around to make sure I'm alone. There is no indication of any danger anywhere and suddenly I'm feeling kind of sheepish and paranoid.

The message is from Ehsan. I smile and open it.

"Are you okay, azizam?"

I take another look around me. Is he here? Why is he asking this? I start walking towards home again, typing as I walk.

"What do you mean?"

Fast as lightning, another text comes in.

"I didn't hear from you all day. I missed you."

This is why he's perfect. We've been dating for just over a week and he's already so attentive. He texts again and says if he can't see me for even one day, he will die. A little melodramatic, I know, yet it affects me and makes me feel all warm and toasty inside. I tell him I miss him too and before I even get through the front gate, he's already replied asking if I want to go for a quick coffee.

I weigh my options. I don't actually want to go out. I'm tired. But he's so sweet and I don't want him to stop inviting. Just thirty minutes out won't kill me, and I warned my parents I may go to a café with Leyli anyway, so why waste a good alibi. I text him back, and we make plans for him to pick me up.

Of course he shows up right on time. I wouldn't expect anything less from Ehsan. He steps out of his sleek silver Benz and gives me his signature cocky grin. My heart flutters. He wears his shades even though it's night time, and his hair is perfect. He looks around to make sure no one is looking and opens the passenger door for me. I appreciate the chivalry, but I would prefer if he just let me get in on my own. No reason to let the whole neighborhood know I'm getting in the car with a boy. What if my parents were to find out? They would be so disappointed with me, not so much for going out with a boy – I honestly don't think they'd care about that – but for not being careful and discreet about it.

I lean back in the comfortable seat, turn my head to face him and smile. He takes my hand in his and smiles back. I reach towards him to play with his hair, but I'm interrupted when my phone rings.

"Alo?"

"Nakissa jan, could you help out your poor mother and pick up some bread for dinner?"

I look around. We are already driving in the opposite direction to where Maman likes me to buy bread. I hate asking Ehsan for a favor, but I can't tell my mother no, so I tell her I will and hang up.

"What's wrong?"

"My mother wants me to pick up some bread for supper."

"No problem, baby. We'll go to the coffee shop for a few, and then we will swing by the bakery and pick up some bread. I know the best place in town."

It's not exactly what Maman wanted, but it should be okay. I'm sure we won't be that long at the coffee shop. And I'm happy Ehsan doesn't mind at all to help me out. I'm so lucky to have him. I watch him as he drives. He leans forward in his seat to see something better and runs his fingers in his hair without messing it up. I wonder what he's thinking about as he looks at his own reflection in the rearview mirror. Does he think I'm boring? Maybe I should say something interesting.

"What do you think about the new Fetid Crimson song?" I ask.

He shrugs. "It's okay," he says. "I just think he's better when he records his stuff in America, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," I say, even though I'd never noticed a difference in the sound between what he recorded in Tehran and what he recorded in Los Angeles. I'm not about to admit it.

Since Ehsan and Leyli have some friends in common, we end up going to the same coffee shop she had asked me to come to. The Laleh Café is small but airy. The tables each hold a little bouquet of tulips, the flower from which the café takes its name. The walls are painted in cool shades of cream and cucumber and thick, flavorful smoke from the water pipes – the only traditional element in this modern café – fills the air.

Leyli spots me and waves at me to join them. She's in a corner partially obstructed from view by the clean and modern water fountain that graces the middle of the shop with its sharp lines and abstract curves. The other guys are all heavy into conversation. I can hear someone talking politics, though most seem to be talking about music and fashion. Slightly apart from everyone else, Mostafa and Fereshteh exchange glances while they talk, obviously the beginning of a romance.

I sit at Leyli's table with the girls, while Ehsan sits with the boys. Our tables are so close to each other that they (and we) are nearly touching.

"So, did you call them?" Leyli asks.

"Call who?" Ehsan says. Under the table, he rubs his finger gently on my knee.

I can't concentrate on either his or Leyli's question. I just notice the feeling of his finger on my jeans, how the thick fabric separating our touch is just an extension of us.

"The band. Didn't Nakissa tell you about it?"

I can't believe I haven't. I was so pre-occupied with Ehsan and impressing him, I forgot to tell him my exciting news. The one thing that happened to me that would make me seem more interesting.

"I was asked to join a band," I tell him before Leyli can spill more of my good news.

"What do you mean join a band?"

"They want me to play harp for them." I take the now-slightly-crumpled paper from my pocket and place it on the table in front of me.

"You play harp? That seems so..." he pauses, searching for the right word, "traditional..." The setting of his chin and curling of his lips makes the word into a bad one.

"The music is very modern," Leyli interjects.

I share a look with her. We hadn't even heard Farâsoo play yet.

"So why haven't you called them?" Ehsan asks.

I shrug. I haven't had the chance to make up my mind about it, but I don't want to tell Ehsan that. "I don't know."

"I'll call them for you!" Leyli holds out her hand and I place the paper in it. She walks to a quieter corner of the coffee shop and takes out her mobile phone. She comes back two minutes later. "We have a party to go to," she announces.

"I can't. I have to pick up bread for Maman and..."

"Don't worry, azizam. It's not until later, of course. We'll sneak out after bed time."

I'm about to argue that I can't really sneak out from my apartment, when I notice the approving look on Ehsan's face. I don't want to disappoint him, so I nod to Leyli.

"I'll read our Hafez fortunes before we go," Leyli announces.

A knot twists in my stomach. Whenever Leyli gets me to pick a page at random in her Hafez poetry book, things get weird. She has a way of interpreting the poems in the strangest ways so they always seem to come true.

Having completely exhausted my leads, I retraced my steps from the previous days, hoping that I had missed something somewhere. When I passed by the old general store where I'd heard Nagissa's song, I realized there was one lead which I hadn't yet pursued. Nagissa herself. She and Ramtin had had a relationship of sorts, though I never understood it. She seemed to hate him, but her fate was ever intertwined with his. She should have been my first lead, but I was too focused on the present. I couldn't dwell on the past. With as much history as I carried, the past would crush me. I had also always hated associating the two of them together, always hoping to ignore that connection. I had wanted her to be mine.

But this wasn't about my broken heart. It was about finding Ramtin and possibly even saving the world. If it meant finding the love that had gotten away, maybe it was my destiny. I walked lighter as I stepped into the old building and scanned for the sales guy, who eventually came out from the back room. My experience with underground parties, studios and the like made me extra perceptive to what was around me. The merchandise's haphazard placement wasn't due to laziness, but because the store owner wasn't invested in this business. It was just a front for something else. It could have been any number of illegal operations, especially here in Tehran, but the harp I'd heard the other day and the way the shopkeeper had hinted that his last customers were musicians indicated something music related.

Even if this store did not prove to be a link to Nagissa, it may still bring me to Ramtin.

"Is this the recording studio that Fetid Crimson recorded their latest song in?" I bluffed.

The man eyed me warily, rubbing his goatee. "No, it isn't, my friend. Does this look like a studio?" He hesitated. "Is there something else I can help you with?"

"I don't know if you remember me. I came here yesterday. I'm visiting Tehran."

He raised an eyebrow. I was getting somewhere. It was safer talking to tourists.

"Yes, you were interested in the harp."

Of course, a sizeable purchase would oil some wheels as well.

"I was, but it's in very bad condition. It would cost me over a million tomans just to get it restored." I planned to overpay for the instrument, but it didn't mean I wanted to get completely ripped off. This was about building trust with the man and I wouldn't do that if I appeared to be a complete idiot.

"Yes, yes, and of course my price reflects this." Once he realized I was serious, he entered bargaining mode. "I can make you a very special price."

We negotiated for a while in the timeless manner I had used in the bazaars over three hundred years ago. By the time I finally bought it, I had only paid a few thousand tomans more than it was worth and we were both satisfied.

I had bought a harp. I tried to convince myself it didn't mean that Nagissa was finding her way back into my thoughts.

"So where are you from? America? Your Persian is very formal, as if you learned it from an old book."

"I'm from Canada, and I guess you could say I learned my Persian from an old source," I told him in English. "Someone told me I could find a recording studio here. I was trying to track down Ramtin Zardooz from Fetid Crimson, or the harpist Nagissa."

"Do you mean Nakissa?"

"Nagissa."

"Nakissa? Tall, slim, pale olive-tone skin and large light brown eyes? Plays the harp like an angel?"

Other than the different consonant, it did sound like we were describing the same person. "Yes, but her name is Nagissa."

The shopkeeper shrugged. "Perhaps she was trying to be clever, make her name sound more traditional."

 "Any idea where I can find her?"

"She should be at a party tonight. I can take you there."

This was one thing I loved about Iran. Everywhere I went, people were only too happy to extend their hospitality. I'd been invited to dinner, to parties, even to strangers' weddings. The shopkeeper, Davood, and I exchanged information and phone numbers and I left.

Since I had some time before the party, I made a plan to talk to random people about Ramtin and accumulate more leads.

I found a shared taxi that headed south, an area I hadn't yet explored, and squeezed in next to a teenage boy and girl who, when introducing themselves, claimed to be brother and sister. The girl eyed me suspiciously at first, but I guess they quickly decided I was cool, because they began talking freely next to me.

"I told you; I can't be home too late," the girl whispered.

"Don't worry about it. I'll have you home before anyone knows anything." He lowered his voice even more before continuing, "I know this really private place."

"But it's dangerous in those parts."

"No, don't worry. Ever since the earthquakes there are empty places where nobody will bother us."

The girl cast a furtive glance in my direction, so I turned my head to look out the window.

"It's not the people I'm worried about."

The boy clucked his tongue at her. "You don't believe in those Jinn stories, do you?"

"I've heard it from a reliable source. And it's not just the Jinn. I heard about monsters made of the crumbled stones of ruined buildings, as if the dead haunted them somehow."

"That's ridiculous," the boy admonished.

But I knew it wasn't. I'd heard of the Jinn before, though I'd never met them. Appearing in old tales as genies and the like. These creatures were made of pure essence; they were only soul and nothing else. They didn't play by the same rules as humans, rules that we Gargoyles also tried to follow.

Without Aude around to drain their essence, I wasn't sure if entering a territory that was rumored to be overtaken by stone monsters was a very wise course of action. However, as supernatural creatures often banded together, this could turn out to be my best lead to find Ramtin and Nagissa.

The pretend brother and sister pair exited the taxi and I followed them out. They glared at me, but I simply shrugged and walked in a southward direction, hoping I wasn't making a stupid mistake. As I headed deeper into the slums of South Tehran, stone monsters and supernatural horrors were the last thing on my mind. The natural devastation was too much to take. In the affluent parts of the city, the only reminders of the earthquakes were a few buildings still undergoing some repairs, some cracked foundations, and a few cosmetically damaged places.

Here, destruction reigned. Not only did these neighborhoods take a decimating hit, it seemed as if no one had done anything about it. Entire blocks laid in ruins, the buildings collapsed against each other. Mutated rats squirmed their way through the debris, and an unidentifiable stench permeated the air. My imagination supplied me with flashes of the chaos and death that must have occurred there just a few weeks before.

Many street corners were decorated with pictures of the dead, protected from the elements by plastic sleeves. Among these lay flowers, candles and other offerings, but the streets were quiet. No one stuck around to mourn these people. A few blocks ahead, a figure quickly emerged from the cover of buildings, left what looked like hand-picked flowers at one such corner, and immediately disappeared back into the shelter from which he'd appeared.

People here were genuinely afraid of something. In the empty streets, my footsteps echoed on the pavement, multiplying the sound. I turned several times, but I appeared to be alone. It didn't mean I was. The Terra Cotta Man who had followed Aude through the cemetery back in Montreal had had a strange form of movement that she had originally found undetectable.

I tried to cast out my essence the way Aude described, but like every other time I tried, my essence seemed chained to me, unable to leave my body more than a few feet.

At the impromptu street corner shrine, I stopped to examine the offerings. The wild wilted flowers echoed the state of the neighborhood. I scanned some of the other things left behind: pictures, some letters and poetry, and lyrics from popular songs.

One in particular caught my attention. They were lyrics from a more obscure Fetid Crimson song.

Stone bonds restrained me.

My heart died slowly.

Her cruelty crumbled my world.

Her cruelty made me the monster.

Footsteps resounded behind me. When I turned, no one was there. I left the shrine but stopped every ten steps or so to listen. Sometimes I still heard something, but I never saw anything. My heart rate slowed. I relaxed. No one was following me.

But then a dead bird fell at my feet and panic flooded back in. Shudders raked my body. Without thought or control, I shifted to my Gargoyle form. My heightened senses did nothing but increase my panic. I felt a presence, but could not even identify the direction it came from. I needed to retreat, collect myself and come back another day with a better plan, or reinforcements if I ever found Nagissa (and decided I could trust her).

Unwilling to wander around Tehran naked, I kept my Gargoyle form to run through the city streets, keeping to alleys and shadows as much as possible. I ran until I exited the broken down slums of south Tehran, and continued running. I didn't stop until I found myself near my hotel, only then really pausing to worry about how I would dress myself once I returned to my human form. I scoured a few alleyways, sniffed through trash, and looked for anything passable to clothe myself in but my search was fruitless.

Out of options, I circled the building until I spotted the service entrance. Though it appeared deserted, I observed it from a spot behind a dumpster. I didn't know what would happen to me if I was caught in this form, but I was alone here and couldn't risk capture.

When no one used the door after thirty minutes of watching it, I made my move. I snuck towards the entrance. I stood on my hind legs and tried to reach for the door, but all I could do was assure myself – by the way the doorknob jiggled between my claws – that the door was not locked. I very carefully surveyed my surroundings. Though staying in this form was dangerous, chances were I would be able to get away if anyone spotted me. What I was about to do was even riskier.

I mentally prepared myself to have to make a dash through the hotel, trying my best to remember all the corridors I knew. My essence pulsated within me, waiting for me to take hold of it. Once I did, I shifted it around so quickly that I regained my human form and nearly fell to my knees with dizziness. I threw the door open and ducked into the dark corridor.

I blinked a few times in the dim lighting and looked for the stairwell. Two doors lined the corridor in front of me. I shuffled towards the first, keeping close to the walls and as I approached it, a distinct aroma of spices and a clamor of voices and pots and pans came to my attention. It opened a crack, allowing a bright beam a light to illuminate the spot of carpet directly ahead of me. I quickly took several steps back, stood still, and held my breath.

"Wait," a voice called out. The door closed. "You're missing the third platter. It's almost ready."

I ran past the door and dived into the second door, hoping it was the stairwell. Instead, I found myself in the hotel's laundry room. At least I was alone. For now. I leaned back against the door and tried to come up with a plan B. After centuries of facing this problem, I should have been better prepared.

Taking in the contents of the room, I came up with a plan. I dug through the large bins of laundry hoping to acquire uniforms or any other form of clothing, but all I could find were linens. Resigned, I grabbed a large black tablecloth and draped it over myself in the same tent-like fashion some of the more pious women around here did. Hopefully, I could pass off as a rather manly looking woman. This was ridiculous.

I exited the room and rushed around the corner to the lobby where I slowed my pace. Eyes to the ground, I tried to avoid contact with anyone, but an older man greeted me as he walked towards the elevator with me. I mumbled a reply, trying to sound at least somewhat feminine and adjusted the tablecloth to cover myself better. I pressed the button and silently begged the elevator to just get there.

When it finally opened, a server with a cart full of food joined us, effectively taking up all the floor space and forcing me and the other man against the elevator wall. He called out a cheerful greeting but I just gripped the tablecloth tighter from the inside willing it to stay closed and kept my eyes on the carpet as if the answers to life itself could be deciphered from its geometric patterns.

If anyone looked at me too long, there would be no disguising that I was in dire need of a shave. There was no way my woman costume could hold up to too much scrutiny. The other passengers weren't going to my floor and I didn't want to speak up or reach out to press the button so I watched with disappointment as the floor numbers increased and finally passed the sixth floor where my room was located. So close yet so far away.

Once both men had left the elevator, I pressed the button for the sixth floor and tried to figure out how I would get into my room since my room key was still in the pocket of my ripped up pants, somewhere on the streets of South Tehran. I'd break open my door if I had to.

I didn't have to. The two rooms next to mine were open. The maids worked in one of them, leaving the other, the one nearest mine, empty. I ducked inside before anyone could see me and ran to the balcony. My tablecloth chador flapped in the wind as I held it closed with my teeth and I climbed over to the next balcony and into my room.

I sighed and, letting the tablecloth fall off of me and pool on the ground in front of me, I laid on the bed, not caring that I was naked.

I didn't get to rest long. The phone I'd gotten here beeped with an incoming text. It was Davood, the man from the store who had invited me to the party. He would be by to pick me up in about thirty minutes. I realized I hadn't checked in with my family back in Montreal yet today, so I dug my other phone out of my luggage. If there was one modern thing Guillaume and I had really taken to, it was our smart phones.

I had two texts from Guillaume.

"Have you heard from Aude?"

"Call me."

I didn't know what drama was happening between these two now, but I could worry about it later. I needed a shower and a shave before I went out. I tossed my phone aside and made my way to the bathroom.

An hour later, washed, shaved and, most importantly, clothed, I sat next to my new-found friend in his imported car.

"Good news, my friend," he said in his thickly accented English. "The rumors say Fetid Crimson will make an appearance at this party."

"I hear the same rumors for every party I've been invited to. I'll believe it when I see it."

"He has never come to any of the parties?"

"Oh, he has come," I answered, "only he never stays long and I always miss him."

"Well, let me tell you this, my friend. It is still early now, so I'm sure we will not miss him."

I hoped he was right. Or that, at the very least, I would find Nagissa. Finding her seemed more appealing than finding Ramtin. I needed to see someone familiar. I was tired. Alone. I wished I had called Guillaume back before I came here.

Davood parked in a neighborhood only a few minutes away from my hotel. From the street, everything was quiet and normal except for a bit of light flashing from the corner of a covered window. Probably not enough to garner the attention of a nosy neighbor or the morality police itself. I couldn't deal with anything else going wrong tonight. I hadn't brought my tablecloth with me.

Davood used a passphrase about lions and Persepolis to get us buzzed in, and we ascended the stairs two at a time. Energized by the music that became louder and louder the closer we got to the party, my experiences from the afternoon began to slip off me. My shoulders relaxed. I wouldn't obsess over Ramtin or Nagissa. I would enjoy tonight.

At the top of the stairs, we were greeted by a girl in a ..equin tank top and short skirt. Like most girls I spied through the door, she wore impossibly high heels. She held a can of whiskey in one hand and used the other to fluff up her hair, preening herself for our benefit.

"Hi," she purred. "This is my cousin's party. She always has the best parties. Are you in the industry?"

Davood introduced himself as being very much part of the industry. The producer, manager, and owner of a record studio whose clients were well-known to the party crowd. He simply introduced me as a friend from Canada. It was enough to impress her and have her try random English phrases on me.

I began to smile at her but the expression froze on my face and my companions faded from my vision because, in the distance, Nagissa waited for me.

Ehsan is impressed. This is a posh crowd even by his standards. Both men and women are sporting perfectly coiffed hair and designer clothing. The house is huge. What I first thought was a small classy apartment building is in fact an entire house. The rooms are large and tastefully decorated. Persian carpets, leather sofas, and solid wood furniture. A polished dark wood baby grand piano graces a corner of the reception room surrounded by men in trendy suits and drinks in hand. They appear deep in conversation.

Loud music comes from another room deeper within the home. From down the hallway, strobe lighting freezes and releases a scene imported from Hollywood. But here, in this room, the lighting is dim and glittery, classy. I'm not sure which I prefer.

My body resonates with a combination of fear and excitement. Even the very rich aren't completely immune to getting their parties raided. I'm also scared of facing Maman when I go back home. I kind of told her about the party and then went when she told me I couldn't go. Maman is not all super-conservative or anything and I know she's been to her share of parties before the revolution when she was even younger than I am now. What she's really worried about is any sort of scandal surrounding our family. Not when Bijan is up for a promotion. It's all so unfair.

But whatever, I made it here and for now, it's all that matters.

Ehsan, Leyli and I navigate the crowd together but it doesn't take me long to lose them. Inevitably I find myself alone... standing by myself... awkward. I grab a can of whiskey and scan the masses for someone, -anyone-, I may know.

I spy Davood, the band manager. He's talking to someone but the crowd shuffles and suddenly he's gone. Where he was standing there is now a different, younger, man. And he's staring at me.

Leyli loves to read fortunes and she has an eerie knack with them somehow. The one in particular that she read for me before we came here said 'I would meet a handsome stranger that would become my deliverance.' Deliverance - from what? We had a good laugh about it.

Fortune aside, there is something familiar about this guy. Like I know him from a really long time ago. I take a couple steps towards him but hesitate. My feelings are in complete conflict. There is no way I could possibly know him and yet I'm convinced I do.

He mirrors my movements and moves slightly closer to me. There's still too much distance between us. He studies me, and I feel too exposed. Like I'm standing naked in front of him and he knows all of my deepest thoughts. He blends in well with the crowd, but there's something about the way he carries himself that tells me he isn't from around here. My intuition whispers to me that he's French. I'm convinced I'm right. Too bad I didn't take those private French lessons I'd considered last year.

Embarrassed by the strange stand-off, I take the steps required to breach the distance. Why should I be so uncomfortable with him? We used to be close.

"Nagissa?" he asks.

I respond with a nod, but then realize that no, he didn't pronounce my name properly. And why did I just think we'd been close? I've never met him before.

"Na- Nakissa." My throat is dry, and when I try to emphasize the k sound in my name, I croak a little. I laugh and to cover my embarrassment, I repeat my name a couple of times, croaking again on the k to make fun of the way I said it. Oh how stupid I sound. Can I crawl into a hole and die now?

"You look so much like her, but you're different."

I have no idea what he's talking about so I say nothing. I show no reaction. But that doesn't make me look much smarter so I struggle to find something adequate to say.

"I hear Fetid Crimson is going to make an appearance." Well, that was random. Why do I always default to talking about this band when I don't know what to say? I'm not even a big fan.

He peers at me.

"Do you know Ramtin, then?" he asks.

A shudder passes through my body as flashes of Fetid Crimson's front man overtake me like memories. But they are not memories. Because even though my original impulse had been to say yes, in reality I don't know Ramtin. Of course I don't. I'm new to this crowd.

"Well, do you?" he repeats.

He leans towards me, and the room spins.

"Hey? Are you okay?" he asks.

Hands touch me. Lightly on my shoulder at first. A tap. I twirl in panic, expecting to see a pair of murky green eyes. But I lose my balance and stumble. Hands around my waist now, and more hands, holding my arm. I disengage myself from the many armed monster. I step back and focus my vision.

"What did you take?" Leyli asks.

"I didn't take..."

"Is she okay?" the foreigner asks Leyli.

"I don't know. I hope so because the band is asking for her. Come, azizam, they want you to play for them."

As Leyli drags me away from the mysterious foreigner, my mind and vision clear. What was that about? Is it just the heat and nerves? He's hot but not the first hot guy I've ever met. It's no reason I should completely lose it with him.

Leyli leads me through to the strobe-lit room. At once, my senses are assaulted. From the lighting to the loud music to the smell; smoke – regular tobacco, weed, flavored tobacco, and probably many other things I don't have the experience to recognize – mingling with that of body odor. On the dance floor, exposed skin shimmers with sweat. Movements in the dark corner of the rooms indicate a different type of dance performed there.

Leyli expertly navigates me through it all, and though I still don't know exactly what's expected of me, my steps become stronger, more confident. I'm here because I was invited. I'm a guest here. Important.

Davood greets me with a strong hug. "Here is our beautiful star harpist. We are about to take this crowd by surprise and completely take their breaths away." His curly long hair bounces as if to emphasize his enthusiasm.

My stomach tumbles. What if I forget how to play? I don't even remember learning, so who is to say I can still play? But when Davood points me in the direction of the band, their appearance doesn't even register with me. I know I should be curious about the two members I've never met before, but I can't be. I can't even get myself to greet Roxana and what's his name. Not when the harp is standing there on the stage with all the other instruments, the only one shimmering with a soul. She wants me. She missed me.

I don't wait for instructions. The pull is too strong. There is no longer anything else in this room. I sit on the rug that serves as the stage, and immediately stroke her silk strings before I begin to pluck them. I've only played a few notes when I notice the change in the room. The music which had before blared through the sound system has been replaced by the gentle traditional harp melody that is part of my soul. I move my fingers along faster and the notes coming out of the speakers are faster too.

I'm the one playing! The melody seeping out of the speakers is coming from my fingers.

A wave of nausea tightens my stomach but I push it down. I'm in my element. When I'm on the harp, it's natural. Here, I am home, and there is nothing to be nervous about.

Without thinking, I switch to a different melody, and a new vision comes to me.

This time, I can't tell if I'm still in Esfahan, but instinct tells me I'm not. The scenery looks familiar, but I don't recognize it. Distantly, as if in a different reality, I hear the sound of rock music mingle with the sound of my harp, and the part of me who is still me knows the rest of the band has joined in. I think we sound good, but I'm so distant I can't be sure. The crowd of trendy teenagers and music industry people are less and less real.

Instead, I'm playing for a king. It's my own composition and pride blooms in my chest.  Someone storms into the room. His footsteps are distinct on the stone floor. I would recognize them anywhere. I glance up in the hopes of refreshing myself on his beauty. The green of his eyes calm me. But when our gazes meet, his look doesn't soften. He hasn't looked at me like that since I composed the song King Khosrau II uses as our national anthem. But I can't imagine Ramtin would be so easily jealous. Not when he has so much talent of his own.

I beg him with my eyes, but they remain cold. Distant. My heart tightens. I once thought I could get him to love me back, but the clench of his jaw finally confirms to me I would never have what I pine for. My hands tremble.

I miss a note.

I should look for disapproval from my lord, the King of Kings. Instead, I need to see if Ramtin noticed. The triumph in his eyes tells me he did. I should just give up now. But my King hasn't asked me to stop playing, so I continue. The reception room becomes more and more crowded.

Jewels adorn the admirers. The reflection of the setting sun through the window and upon them blinds me temporarily. I blink a few times.

I'm back at the party.

The events of the day had caught up to me and completely depleted me of energy. Oddly enough, the rest of the crowd seemed to feel the same. After the girl finished playing, the party never resumed. People broke into small pockets and discussed the amazing sound of the band, but no one still had the energy to party. Some were texting, others spoke quietly on the telephone, arranging for rides home or to coffee shops or restaurants. Couples who had been making out in dark corners, just cuddled in silence. Not only had the party here died, but no one was inclined to resurrect it. No one even seemed to be under the influence of alcohol anymore. The mood was sober. Calm.

Had she sapped essence from the crowd the way Ramtin got his witches to at concerts? Was she in league with him?

I pulled myself upright, away from the wall I'd been leaning on, and strolled over to the stage. I didn't have to duck around throngs of people like I would have had to earlier. The path between us was virtually clear. I attempted to make myself look casual but inside I screamed for answers. Who was she? Was she a witch? Could she lead me to Nagissa? Could she be trusted?

The closer I came to her, the wider her eyes appeared. They shimmered with essence and fear. Her face and lips were pale. Her brows furrowed when she noticed me. She tilted her head to one side. Another girl joined her and spotted me immediately.

"Hi," she said in English with a small smile. "Davood told me you're his Canadian friend. I love Canada. I'm Leyli." She extended her hand to me and I shook it. "And you know, you shouldn't take a girl's hand in public." Her eyes twinkled.

Of course I knew. These were the types of warnings everyone had been piling on me since my first day here. Everyone has advice for the foreigner. Yet, handshaking was the least of the sins being committed here. "If you're so worried about propriety, I don't think you should be extending your hand out to me." I kept my tone light. Flirtatious. But all my faculties concentrated on the other girl, Nakissa. I needed to read her. Judge her.

"Probably not, but I'm not very good at doing what I'm supposed to." She winked.

"I guess none of us are since we are all here."

She giggled. "You know, Nakissa's boyfriend told us of a great place we could just hang out and chill. A private playground of sorts. Somewhere we can be left alone."

By the way she emphasized the word boyfriend I mustn't have been very subtle while watching her friend. I focused my attention on Leyli. This girl seemed to be my in with Nakissa so it would be best if I fostered some sort of friendship.

"Why don't you give me your phone number?" I said.

She grinned widely and we exchanged numbers. A boy – most likely Nakissa's boyfriend – came around and told them the party had turned lame. He wanted to leave, so the two girls said their farewells. Nakissa gave me a long, loaded look before she disappeared and a lump formed in my throat.

I went to find Davood and hoped he would decide to stay. It seemed unlikely that Ramtin would show up now, but I didn't want to miss my chance.

"You're very good with the harp, azizam. Your technical skill is amazing, but didn't you notice people were bored with your performance? There was no energy in that crowd. I just don't know if this band stuff is really the right calling for you." Ehsan doesn't take his eyes off the road, which is a good thing. This way, he can't see the way my lips tremble and the tears threaten to overflow. I look back to Leyli in the backseat for support but she's distracted by her phone.

I felt so strange after the performance. High, even. Now my head has cleared and my mood has deflated, but I still feel energized. Like I could run a marathon. The only problem is the tension gripping my stomach. I'm so nervous about facing my mother now that the party is over that I mentally run through a list of excuses or lies I could use to get me out of trouble. Ehsan's criticism isn't helping my nerves either.

"That foreign guy was so cute. Did you see his eyes? Blue like the sea." Leyli sighs contently.

"Who? That guy you were talking to when I came by? He was foreign? Where from?" Ehsan asks.

"Canada," I say.

"I have cousins in Canada. Vancouver, actually. I could move there whenever I want."

"You're crazy to still be here," Leyli says. "But I'm sure Nakissa is glad."

"I have it good here. Why should I move?"

"Yes, we do have it good. And I'm glad he decided to stay in Tehran." I emphasize my point by reaching for his hand. He grabs it and tightens his fingers around mine. I love how affectionate he is.

Once we drop Leyli off, I become more nervous. The party finished so suddenly after my performance that my parents are sure to still be awake when I get home. I check the time on my phone. Not even nine yet! I'm sure they haven't even finished dinner yet. I want to ask Ehsan to go somewhere else so I can put off the confrontation until later, but when he yawns. I notice the dark circles under his eyes. He's exhausted and I should let him rest. It strikes me that Leyli had been tired too. She'd happily gone home so early.

When I let myself in, not only are Maman and Bijan having dinner, but it appears Uncle Fereidoon and his family have come by for a visit. I pause at the door, trying to gauge if this will make things easier or harder on me. Maman doesn't even look in my direction while I remove my scarf and manteau, but my cousin Parvaneh motions to me.

"I love your hair like this," she says.

I'm not exactly sure what she means, but I thank her.

Maman risks a look in my direction and her eyebrows furrow. I recognize the look in her eyes; she's trying to make a decision. Finally, she tells me to help her with something in the kitchen. My heart sinks. She's going to risk making a scene, and if my aunt and uncle get involved, I'll never hear the end of it.

I drag my feet into the kitchen and face her. She's dressed well enough, dress pants and a nice blouse, but not well enough to be entertaining. Her brother must have dropped by unexpected. And of course Maman would have insisted he stay for dinner. She looks tired. Stressed. I wonder if it's because of me.

Though she's been walking on her own since her last operation, part of her leg is still in a cast and she needs to support herself on the kitchen counter. Guilt tugs at me. I should have been here to help her with dinner, but I couldn't guess my uncle would be so rude as to show up then. A twinge of anger at him and his family wells up inside me. I open my mouth to say something about it, but Maman beats me to the punch. She has her own concerns.

"Honestly Nakissa, I don't know what to say. Or even what to think! You ask to go to a party and I say no, then you take off and say you are going anyway. And now..." She shakes her head at me. "Now, you are home just a few hours later and it seems you have gone to a salon." She rubs her forehead the way she always does when she's stressed. "I don't know how to react. I'm relieved you haven't gone to the party. I'm relieved that you're back earlier than I expected and I won't be worrying about you all night. But you still walked out when I told you to stay."

Maman reaches out to touch my hair. "I do like your hair straight, Nakissa." She sighs. "If this is how you are exerting your independence, I shouldn't complain, should I?" She searches my face. I don't know what she is looking for or what she sees, but she lets out her breath. "Please go join the family for dinner."

That's it? I'm relieved but also confused.

"I just need wash up first," I tell her.

She steps forward, hesitates, and then gives me an awkward hug. I don't remember last time we hugged and I know it's my fault.

I trudge to the bathroom. What did Parvaneh and Maman mean about my hair? Maman said it was straight. Straight? I didn't do anything to tame down the heavy curls.

I turn the light on in the bathroom, take a deep breath and look in the mirror.

What I see doesn't shock me. It's as if my hair should have always been like this. Suddenly it's as if the curly-haired Nakissa I have seen in the mirror for the past sixteen years had been a fraud. This is the real me. Though weirdness still tickles the bottom of my stomach and sends tiny shivers up my arms, I'm feeling good. Alive.

I take my place at the dinner table and am immediately absorbed into my family's world. The conversation spans international politics and personal freedom to film festivals and Geology. Everyone has heard Bijan's hypothesis on the world-wide earthquakes, but it doesn't stop us from debating and speculating the same points over and over again each time we get together. It's comfortable. It's familiar. And the voice deep inside myself – the one that's attached to the weirdness – tells me I'm so lucky to have this sense of belonging for the first time after so many lifetimes of loneliness. The shiver returns.

Bijan's perfect rice (Maman claims she always fails at making rice – but I think this is just her way of making Bijan do it!) and the herb stew are also familiar. They're attached to my roots. A culinary tradition grounded into our culture for millennia.

Leyli scoffs at tradition. Give her a hamburger or pizza any day, she says. But I appreciate the history of things. I always have. Maybe this is why I've been getting these visions of the past lately. It's either my subconscious building fantasies from all I've read, watched, and listened to, or maybe there really is some ancient magic in play and it attached itself to me because my soul is ancient too. Of course, you won't ever hear me admit to that out loud or even to myself on a normal day. But today is strange. There's energy in the air. I smile to myself.

"Nakissa?" There is something about the way Maman says my name that annoys me.

"Sorry?"

"I asked if you can pass me the butter, please?"

I pass it to her but as I watch the crystal and silver dish pass from my hands to hers, a stray thought tugs at me.

"Maman? Why did you name me Nakissa?"

She smiles, but there is little joy in her eyes. "I chose your name before you were born. Before I had even met your father. It came to me out of nowhere at the strangest time and I just knew if I ever had a girl it would be her name."

But it's not what I had meant. "But why Nakissa? Why not Nagissa?"

Maman looks confused. "Because Nakissa is a real name."

"But the real name is Nagissa," I argue. "It was butchered just like so much of our language was after the Arabic conquest." My voice rises, along with my heart rate. "Just because they didn't have the "g" sound."

I'm angry. Angry over a lost consonant and I don't know what's taken over me. I'm overreacting. Even I know this. But I can't stop it. Tears well up in my eyes. I push myself away from the table and storm to my room.

For a moment, silence reigns in the dining room until little by little conversation resumes as if everyone at the table is trying to ignore the fact that I exist. That I have no control over my emotions. I want to throw something or scream, but all I do is bury my head in my pillow and cry. I wish I knew what I'm crying about.

I paced the floor of my hotel room. I had some pieces of the puzzle in front of me, but just didn't know how they fit. Nakissa was key somehow, but I wasn't certain she was entirely sane. She reminded me so much of Nagissa, but she wasn't a Gargoyle. She was also more alive than Nagissa had been. She lived in the present; there was an energy about her that I couldn't quite understand. She was special but I didn't think she was a witch or a shaman. It wasn't like Aude or her friend Kateri. Maybe she was something supernatural, but nothing like what I was used to encountering. Yet, recent events had taught me that essence could be controlled by different people in different ways. Kateri, the shaman's daughter who had helped us defeat the stone monster in Montreal, had turned out to be much more powerful than we anticipated. Only her type of magic, her control of life energy was integrally tied to nature. It wasn't something I could really understand.

But if Nakissa had power, it was something else entirely. I could recognize essence in her, which I had a difficult time doing with shamans. Their magic was too well balanced. Grounded. So what was it? Was she related to the Jinn? I was driving myself crazy trying to reason it out alone. I needed someone to talk it out with.

I didn't worry about calculating the time difference. Gargoyles don't need sleep, so if I woke them up, it wasn't a big deal.

Guillaume answered on the first ring.

"Aude?"

My heart sank. There was something wrong back home. "It's Garnier. What's happening?"

"Why didn't you text me back? Aude is missing."

"What do you mean, missing?"

"She didn't show up at band practice after school."

"Did you go to the school? To her house? Did you look for her?" I was so far away. So helpless.

"Of course I did all those things. Garnier, you have to come home."

My first impulse was to agree. I was needed at home. I had to find Aude. If something happened to her after I walked away from the responsibility I shared wouldn't it make it my fault? I couldn't leave it to them to find her could I?

"I'll see how quickly I can get a flight back," I said.

When I hung up the phone, my hands shook. I knew there were still answers to find here and I didn't know how I could abandon them now. I also couldn't abandon Aude, could I?

If I planned to leave as soon as possible, then I had to get as many answers as I could before then. And if anyone could help (or harm) me, it would be the Jinn.

I opened my laptop and researched as much as I could about Jinn in Tehran, but it seemed that they, like most supernatural creatures, didn't hold a very strong online presence. Still, I gathered what information I could. Ghost stories, descriptions, even historical accounts. After several hours of research, keeping in mind they were often deceitful, I realized the only way I could get what I needed was still to actually talk to them myself.

I dressed conservatively, lest I incite their sensitivities or attract too much unwanted attention, and, as dawn was about to set in, I set off for the streets of South Tehran.

My private taxi dropped me off in what he said was a safer neighborhood. This area didn't suffer from as much devastation as the one I'd previously visited and still exhibited signs of life. As the sun began to rise, many people had risen with it, preparing for a day of hard labor and struggle. The smell of bread wafted to me from a shabby bakery outside of which a lineup of mostly black-clad women had already formed.

My stomach grumbled. Without Aude to supply me with essence, I was very much tied to human needs. My worry for Aude rose. It would be wise to go home for more than one reason.

The people I passed looked worn, as if life had taken all it could from them. Many more women covered themselves in the tent-like chador here, and the men were dressed differently as well. More unshaven faces stared at me blankly as I passed them by. I kept my eyes to the ground, not as a sign of deferral, but to watch their feet. Several accounts indicated that the Jinn's feet could appear as hooves. I didn't know if I believed this, but I couldn't let any clue pass me by. My time was short. I planned to be at my hotel booking my plane ticket back home before the morning had ended.

My hike took me out of this neighborhood to a quieter one. I felt a hint of unease and promised myself that this time I wouldn't run away. I kept my eyes open and scanned the ruins and empty buildings for signs of life. Now and again, I saw human movement, but nothing supernatural. I cut over to the next street, and continued my search. When I encountered a pair of young dirty children, I asked them if they knew where I could find the Jinn. Their eyes widened. The younger one, a little girl with pale brown eyes and skin made dark by the sun and the dirt of her surroundings, spoke to me in the strongly accented dialect of Afghanistan.

"We don't go looking for Jinn, mister. That way, we hope they leave us alone. They can't be trusted and we don't need more trouble." Though she looked to be too small to be older than eight or nine, her hair was covered. She glanced at the boy, only slightly bigger than she and lowered her voice. "My brother says he's seen them at night, but I think he just tries to scare me."

"I do not!" The boy answered her, and then turned his attention to me. "Listen, the earthquakes here didn't just affect us. The Jinn are upset and angry. They're not the type you should disturb."

"How do you know that? Have you talked with them?"

The little boy nodded his head upward once in a negative. "Na, but the people I work for at the bazaar told me about them. Said we should be careful in these parts."

The boy didn't wait for me to ask more questions. He grabbed his sister's hand and disappeared down a narrow alleyway.

I watched them leave, feeling sad by their circumstances. Though I, myself, had had a difficult childhood, I hadn't known the suffering and pain that these two most likely had. I didn't know their story, but in my short time here, I had heard the stories of similar children. Orphans. Refugees from the war in Afghanistan, here illegally in the hope to find work and to feed a starving stomach.

I wondered (not for the first time) if there was something better I could do with my life than chasing stone monsters and worrying about my own survival. Why was I chasing Ramtin? Trying to save the world? Or merely trying to save myself? I wasn't sure I could claim selfless reasons for my actions and that bothered me.

Lost in thought as I was, it took me a few seconds to realize I was being followed again. Yet, like last time, I couldn't see what trailed me. I was more desperate now, so I stopped and turned abruptly over and over again. When I saw a shadow dart into ruins, it was small, like a dog or a beast of sorts. My muscles relaxed. I didn't know what it was, but it was obvious it didn't want to cause me harm. At least not immediately. I tried to search for it but came up empty. The sun rose higher and took some of the early end of winter chill out of the air. I needed to return to the hotel and plan my next course of action.

I was still followed while I looked for a taxi to return to my hotel. Though I attempted to spy it again, the closest I came was to see its shadow one last time. Finally, I found a shared taxi and I left the creature – whatever it was – behind.

The man already in the taxi wore business attire. His brown suit looked of good quality and his facial hair was kept trimmed close to his face. He looked at me pensively.

"You look like you've had an encounter with  _the better than us creatures_. Unless – " He looked to my feet and frowned. "There is something about you that is a little like them. You surround yourself with them too much, no?"

"I am looking for them, but have yet to find them."

"They do not see us that well, just as we cannot see them, but someone like you they could find if they wanted to. I wonder why they do not."

"What do you know about the Jinn?"

"I know what any learned man knows. But do not be fooled. They were made by Allah; they are not superior. And they cannot be trusted." The man asked the taxi to stop.

He paid his fare and told a blessing to the driver. Before the taxi drove off, I noticed him place a black turban on his head and walk towards the Mosque.

I didn't know enough about the clerics to know if their claimed connection with the supernatural was true or not, but I wished I had known I had been sharing a taxi with a Mullah so I could have asked him more questions.

When the taxi stopped in front of my hotel, a couple eagerly entered it, making it difficult for me to exit. After a few mumbled apologies and a bit of a standoff where we each told each other to go ahead, I finally exited and paid off my taxi, even though he, like every other taxi I had so far taken here, first insisted I didn't owe him anything and then proceeded to rip me off.

I was mentally calculating how much that fare had cost me in Canadian dollars while I approached the hotel. I opened the door and was then hit by a force that knocked me to my knees. When I looked up, an old man walked passed me and into the street. I rubbed my face trying to make sense of what happened. My stomach heaved and tried to empty itself, but I hadn't eaten anything in too long.

Once my breath returned to normal, I shakily regained my feet and looked behind me. The man who had knocked me down without even touching me rounded a corner. Though I knew I should chase him and get answers from him, my muscles didn't cooperate. I collapsed back to the sidewalk where I sat for several seconds before someone rushed from the hotel to help me up.

"Sir, are you a guest here?"

I nodded.

"You shouldn't be in the street in this state, my friend. It would not do for them to find you like this."

Did everyone know about the Jinn? And were they after me?

"At least you do not smell like it. But to be safe, take this, my friend." The man offered me a breath mint and I realized he thought I was drunk.

I straightened myself and smiled at him. "Thank you for your assistance, but I'm okay. I must have eaten something that didn't agree with me."

The man nodded eagerly. "I am happy you are okay, my friend." He patted me on the shoulder a few times so I smiled and nodded at him. Still, he insisted on walking me to the elevator, not leaving me until the doors closed between us.

Once I reached my room, the door was open. Inside, nothing was in its place. My clothing was scattered all over the floor, my personal effects randomly tossed on the desk, and my computer was missing.

Someone was worried about what I was doing here and I wasn't sure if it was supernatural or government forces at play (or if perhaps they were one and the same).

All my clothes fit weird. It's like I had a growth spurt or something. My pants are slightly too short, and saggy in the butt. I was never overweight but, like my friends, I could probably point out half a dozen features I wouldn't mind seeing improved. Now I'm scared I look too skinny. I've lost my curves.

I scrutinize my reflection in the floor length mirror. I don't exactly look like a different person. Though my clothes are fitting me differently, there's nothing unfamiliar about the girl in front of me. My hair is straight now, but it should have always been.

Of course I've noticed the weirdness, how nothing makes sense, but I can either deny it and think I am going crazy, or accept that the world is stranger than I thought. Where I live, it just doesn't seem to be such a stretch to think things aren't always what they seem. I take a deep breath to try to get my heart to beat a little slower and to get myself to really believe I'm okay with this.

Maman and Bijan accost me on my way through the kitchen. Apparently, we have to talk.

"Don't think because we are letting you get away with your behavior last night that it means you can continue," Bijan says.

"Is something going on with you? We can arrange for you to talk to someone about it. My psychiatrist is really great. Why don't I get you an appointment when I next book mine? What do you say? You could give her a try?" Maman adds.

Before the crazy things started happening, I might have taken Maman up on the offer. Many of my friends have psychologists. Many of them take pills, too. You need that stuff to make it through the day to day in Tehran. But what would I talk about with this psychologist? How I'm not who I used to be, but instead am finding who I really should be? It would be one way to get lots of pills prescribed.

"Thanks but there's nothing wrong. Just regular school-friend stuff." I sigh. "And I'm sorry about last night. It's just... It's difficult when all my friends are allowed to do things and I'm not."

"It's always for good reasons," Bijan says.

"And Nakissa jan, if your friends were to jump in a well, would you jump in too?"

I sigh. "No, I wouldn't," I mumble and try to make my escape since I know where this conversation is going and I'm hoping to meet up with Leyli before class.

I almost make it out of the kitchen.

"Wait. I need you to walk Ebi to school."

"Why? Isn't he old enough to go by himself yet?"

"Why? Because I asked you to. And because he got in trouble on his way to school yesterday and he needs his big sister to look after him."

I roll my eyes and shrug. "Whatever."

"Hurry up, you're going to be late," I tell Ebi for the third time since we left the apartment.

He glares at me but doesn't say anything. We don't have a bad relationship; we just don't have much of a relationship at all. Ebi is all race cars and fighter games and American cinema. Okay, so we have the movie thing in common, but barely.

"So how did you get in trouble, anyway?

"These kids were harassing me. It's no big deal."

"Why?"

"I dress too nice."

"That's ridiculous."

He shrugs, so we continue walking in silence for several blocks when I notice him tense visibly.

"What's wrong?"

He doesn't answer but he nods his head at a group of kids that are maybe twelve years old at most.

"What's that you're wearing? Didn't we tell you that you needed to dress more conservatively?" They point to Ebi's cardigan. Part of his private school's uniform. "And who is that girl with you?"

"My sister," he mutters. He's not looking at them but at the ground at his feet. I feel anger rise inside me.

"And you let your sister go out of the house looking like that? Her hair sticking out of her scarf and her face covered in make up?" One of the kid spits at me then turns back to Ebi. "You call yourself a man?"

I don't let Ebi answer. I push him behind me and walk towards the four boys. I don't care if I'm making a scene. Right now I don't even care if I get arrested or get lashes. I am just too mad. I poke my finger in the chest of the boy closest to me.

"If you have a problem with the way I dress, you will address it to me," I say. I feel energetic. Like I am drawing power from the boys. Feeding from them. The feeling is clear and crisp. I poke at him again and he steps back. His eyes are wide and his lips tremble. The wind is blowing now and tugs at my scarf, teasing the strands of hair. Almost pushing it off my head completely. I feel giddy. I poke him again and again. It isn't hard, it shouldn't be harming him, but each time, he takes a step back, and then his three friends take a step back as well. In the distance thunder roars and that is enough to send two of the boys running to the other side of the street.

The one I'm not poking stares at my feet. They think they will see hooves. I wish I was a Jinn, so that my power was real. Finally lightning cracks and the last two boys run away.

All around me, people are stopped on the street staring at me. Some younger people are cheering at me for standing up to the boys while a few other people are staring at me with frightened expressions or mumbling prayers. Many people just avoid my gaze and go back to what they were doing, as if trying not to catch my attention.

"What was that?" Ebi asks me. There is adulation in his eyes.

"Nothing, it was just luck to this storm broke out at the same time and scared those superstitious little boys away." I don't entirely believe it's luck, but I don't know how to even describe to myself what happened, let alone to someone else.

All I've heard all day at school from Leyli is about the cute foreigner. And as we walk from school to the Laleh Caf, it isn't any different. I want to argue that I saw him first but then I remember I have Ehsan. I check my phone for the tenth time just this past hour, but he still hasn't answered my last text. I'm sure he's busy, but it's the first time he doesn't drop everything he's doing to answer me.

While I'm checking my phone – again – Leyli continues talking.

"... the people there were cool and Ehsan said that this crowd could open doors for us."

"Hmm?" I ask.

"At the party last night? What's wrong? You're just looking at your phone all the time."

"Oh, it's nothing. Ehsan isn't answering his texts. I'm sure he's just busy."

"What's the last thing you two talked about?"

"Well just that stuff in the car. About my music, remember?"

Leyli purses her lips. "I don't understand why he said that to you."

"I'm sure he didn't mean for it to sound so bad."

"Of course not. Ehsan is a good guy. A perfect boyfriend, right?"

"Right." But with everything that's been going on lately, he seems like a complication.

Leyli opens the door for me and my heart stops. Ehsan is there with some friends – all boys, at least – but I'm angry. This is why he's too busy to answer me?

Leyli stops right behind me and waves at him. "Look, azizam, there he is."

"Yeah, I noticed."

She walks towards the boys and I'm left with little choice but to follow, though it does occur to me to sit at a different table to see if Ehsan would bother to seek me out. But then he might think I'm having a tantrum and I prefer to act cool. Wasn't I just thinking he was a complication?

He smiles at me but he's distracted. Maybe overloaded at school or at home; I know what that's like. I reach for his hand under the table, but he doesn't have it extended out to me this time. My heart sinks. Maybe he needs a bit of space, that's common for boys, so I turn to Leyli and try to concentrate on what she's talking about.

"As soon as I hear about another party, I plan to go. That's the Tehran lifestyle, you know? Just party."

"What about studying?" Ehsan asks.

She flashes him a great big smile. "Of course, azizam. We work hard and we play harder. That's all I meant."

He nods. "I did hear of another party. Maybe you girls want to come along. Was hooked up at that last party, so it's the same crowd. It'll be safe. Very remote. Little chance of anything going wrong."

"Sounds great," Leyli says.

I cringe, though I quickly straighten my expression.

Leyli furrows her brows. "If we aren't too busy, that is."

Ehsan turns to me. "I'll text you with the details, okay azizam?"

I nod and smile. Ehsan isn't ignoring me. I was just overreacting earlier.

When I get home, Maman is already there. She's sipping coffee at the kitchen table while reading a book. Her glasses are pushed down on her nose.

The whole way home I thought of different scenarios and excuses to use to go to the party without telling Maman, but I'm still not any closer to a solution when I sit down beside her.

She puts down her coffee mug and studies me.

"I know it's hard growing up here." She takes a deep breath. "Bijan and I have been talking about the possibility of moving to America. Either the United States or Canada. His industry has a lot of openings for a man with his education and experience. He's talked about going to Texas or to Alberta."

Before she finishes, I'm already shaking my head no. I can't move. I open my mouth to begin my argument but she puts her hand out to stop me.

"We used to think we could give you a better life here. We do well financially. We are part of the elite." She sighs. "But maybe it's not enough."

I jump in before she can stop me again. "I don't want to go. I just want freedom. For example, there is a party tonight..."

"I understand why you think partying is so important. Believe it or not, I was your age once... Things were hard for me too. But Nakissa jan, I worry about your safety."

"Don't you trust me?"

"You, I can trust. Them..." She spreads out her arm and shakes her head. I don't know who she means by them. The government? Other kids? Supernatural creatures? Not that my mother would actually believe in supernatural creatures. She's much too practical.

"There will still be parties when you are older. Right now, you should worry about your schoolwork. This is where your future lies."

"What if my future lies with my music?"

"Your music?"

"See, Maman, you don't get it. You don't know anything about me. I play in a band. I'm really good."

"Since when?"

I realize that if I tell her I started playing a few days ago, she won't take me seriously. So, I change the topic. "So, about this party?"

"I want to tell you about a party I went to. Then we can talk about it."

I prepare myself for a boring story.

"It was shortly after the revolution and we were celebrating."

I clench my teeth. I always become angry when Maman speaks of the revolution. How she had protested against the shah. How she had distributed fliers and propaganda. It is her and her generation that is responsible for the mess we're in. I bite my tongue. This isn't the time and we've had this discussion too often already.

"The party was raided and the only thing that saved me was that they had no way of proving that we were part of the Tudeh – the communist party. But they did take me for questioning. Do you realize how scary that is for a fifteen year old? And the things I saw... The things I heard..." Maman closes her eyes for a few seconds. "I know you've seen footage on television, but it's not the same. You do not feel the way the very air around you is changed when they fire on people." Using her fingers, she traces circles on the countertop. "I saw an execution. I was on the ground, and the prisoners were on the roof... I felt such a strong connection to one of them. I don't know how to describe it, Nakissa. But at that moment I knew that one day I would have a daughter, as if I felt I needed to replace one of the lives that had been taken that day. It's when I decided what I would name you. Even before you were conceived. Like the soul of some executed prisoner touched me somehow. Well, never mind that. It all sounds like nonsense. All I'm trying to say is that I know how bad things can be, azizam."

Souls? I've never heard her speak like that before. Is this how she's trying to connect with me? By acting spiritual? I sigh. "But times are different now. And I'm not part of a communist party. I just want to play music."

Maman adds even more sugar to her coffee and stirs it slowly. "Why don't you play for me?"

I'm about to argue that I don't have a harp, but realize I can use Ebi's guitar.

I go find him in his room and he pauses his video game when I enter. I stop to catch my breath. My brother is waiting for me to say something but the Fetid Crimson poster in the center of his wall commands all my attention. I'm not a fan, but I know who they are and recognize many of their songs. The groupie thing isn't really me. I never spent much time or energy on any band. I'm more into boys and make-up... well, at least I used to be.

On this poster, Ramtin is looking straight at me (at the camera, I guess) and I swear I know him. Like really know him. I shake my head and tear myself away from his unsettling gaze so I can ask Ebi to borrow his guitar.

He shrugs and resumes playing his game.

I return to the kitchen with the guitar in hand. Maman is waiting for me and my hands feel sweaty. The guitar doesn't pull me in the way the harp does but I'm sure I can play it. I have before.

I move a chair to face her and sit on it, cradling the instrument on my lap. I pick at its strings and at first it sounds like nothing. Worse than nothing. It sounds awful. But I continue, and my vision begins to fade.

I don't know where the hallucination has taken me this time. The only thing I can really concentrate on is who. Because Ramtin is standing directly in front of me. His smile is crooked, his eyebrows a little too thick. His light colored eyes are cold. I don't know how I could have found him attractive. Someone else enters the room. The French man. I can't see his facial expression but he turns and leaves the room. I had something I wanted to say to him. I stop playing.

The harp is no longer between my hands. Instead, the guitar is. Maman has tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Wow, Nakissa. When did you get that good?"

I shrug.

"That was beautiful. You must have worked so hard." She wipes a tear from her eye. "Oh azizam, why did you never share this with me before? I'm really proud of you."

She hugs me and I feel guilty. Like I'm deceiving her. Because she thinks I've been working hard, but I haven't. I haven't done anything to deserve it. Everyone is impressed with me for nothing. Well, except for Ehsan. At least he realizes I'm a fraud.

Still tangled in Maman's embrace, I check my phone and realize he's texted me about the details of the party. He texted something else too.

"I don't think you should play with that band anymore. It's not safe for a girl to play in public."

"You can go play your music at the party." Maman's words cut through my anger. Ehsan doesn't trust me but at least my mother does. "But please be careful. I only want you to be safe."

I hug and kiss her.

"Guess who texted me?"

I shrug. I'm a little preoccupied with Ehsan's text and was planning on hashing out the meaning behind it over and over again on the way to the party. But instead, I get to hear how the foreigner has been texting back in forth with Leyli and though he wasn't being exactly flirty, he was certainly very friendly.

"Maybe we will get married and I will move to Canada with him."

"What is he doing here? Why does he speak Persian? He seems suspicious, don't you think?" I don't know where it's coming from, but I'm suddenly very jealous. And though the things I listed are weird, they are not really suspicious.

"He's mysterious. Don't you love a good, sexy mystery?" She grins. "As we become closer, I'll learn more about him and it will all make sense." She raises her eyebrows at me and I shrug. "Maybe he's studying? I bet you he'll get his PhD."

"So that's it? Just like that you're into him now?"

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"I don't know." I try to force the pout off my face.

"I love the new make-up by the way," Leyli says. "Much more mysterious rock star!"

I flip the car's sun visor down to look in the mirror. When doing my makeup, I had lined my eyes a lot darker than usual. I agree it looks good but I don't remember doing it. Actually, I can't remember getting ready at all. I turn cold. Little by little, the girl who looks back at me from the mirror is becoming someone else. I'm losing myself.

Tonight's party is outside the city. How kicking is a party almost two hours away going to be? I have my reservations but Leyli is excited. She's blasting the car stereo and singing along to the cheesy dance music. Her mood is contagious. The further we get from the city, the freer I feel.

We kill the lights and turn onto a poorly lit lane, past a few old farm buildings. Suddenly my nerves are singing with excitement. I've never been to a party like this before. As we approach what used to be a nice barn I see the other cars. A few people are walking toward the building with boxes of alcohol in hand. As soon as Leyli turns off the engine I can hear the music pounding from inside.

While still in the car I take off my scarf and manteaux. There is no point in masquerades here. Leyli and I grab each other's hands and squeal in delight as we try to balance on our high heels on the rocky-dirt parking lot towards the barn. Ahead of us, two other girls struggle with the same issue, though they have the added disadvantages of having ultra-miniskirts they have to tug at to keep in place. We line up behind them and pay the hefty cover charge to enter. Once inside we stop, look at each other and grin.

Now this is a party.

The space is packed. People are dancing with their arms raised yet are still holding cigarettes and drinks in plastic cups. A DJ works from a platform on which instruments are also set up, while industrial sized speakers blast the heavy dance beats of remixed popular songs. A few other platforms spread throughout the space are home to girls dancing in small sequined numbers. Colored spotlights, strobe lights, and smoke effects completely transform the rustic barn into a top-rate European-style disco. I've only ever heard of parties like that before and I can't believe how much work they've put into this one party.

I scan the crowd for Ehsan not expecting to find him. But he's standing near the entrance, leaning against a wall smoking a cigarette and talking to a group of people that includes a few barely-dressed girls. So un-classy. I join him and he greets me with a brief hug and kiss. I'm not sure if the problem is with him or with me, but I'm so mad about the text and his body language with the bleach blonde bimbo standing next to him isn't helping.

"Why did you say that?" I ask.

"Say what, baby?" He looks tired; I'm being too hard on him.

"Why did you think I shouldn't join the band? Do you actually think women shouldn't perform in public? Really? You have no problem supporting men in bands but I don't remember ever hearing you listen to a woman musician." My fists are clenched so tight I can feel my fingernails digging into my palms. All I want to do is transfer that pain into him.

His eyes widen. Why did I say that? He's never seen me react like that. Now he'll hate me.

"Baby, you're a nice girl. I'm worried about your safety, that's all. Bad things happen in these crowds. I don't think you understand how things are in the real world."

"Oh." I look at my feet. I'm wearing the sparkly strap-on high-heeled sandals Leyli gave me last year but have never worn until tonight. I'd always found them too glam before, but they suit me now.

"I'm sorry," I mumble.

I am sorry. But I'm also still mad. I don't know how to feel, but all of this is just not me. Not my hair. Not my clothes. And certainly not speaking my mind to my boyfriend like this. Part of me is horrified, the other is thrilled. Why shouldn't he know how I feel?

"It's okay, baby. Hey, I need to go talk to someone. I'll catch up with you later, okay?"

"Sure." I try to keep the dejection out of my voice. I'm losing him. He couldn't handle me telling him off, or maybe I'm just not cool enough. My tank top and skinny jeans are covering way more than those other girls he's hanging out with.

He kisses me gently on the neck and my knees buckle. It's just enough for me to remember how sweet he can be.

I'm still smiling from the kiss when I find Leyli in the crowd. I practically bounce over to her, but when I see she hasn't noticed me yet, I decide to sneak up on her. She's on her tiptoe craning her neck over the crowd.

"Boo!" I jump out at her.

"Are you drunk already?" She continues to peer over and doesn't even look at me.

"What are you doing?" I ask her.

"Is that who I think it is?" She points to someone mostly obscured by the crowd.

My heart stops.

"Oh God! I really think it is him. Come on! Let's go talk to him. We can get his autograph. Maybe I can get him to sign somewhere... naughty." She winks at me.

I stay put. I can't face him. I can't face Ramtin. Not after what he did to me. But...What did he do to me?

Someone taps my shoulder and I jump.

This time, she looked even more like Nagissa. Her hair was now straight and fanned around her when she twirled to face me. She almost had the same grace. I hadn't noticed that the first time we talked. She'd seemed more awkward then.

"Hi, I'm Garnier," I gave her my hand.

"I know," she said.

Her wide eyes were lined in dark eyeliner making them look more cat-shaped. Her lips were glossed and poutier. My own lips tingled as I remembered wanting to kiss similar lips. Nagissa's... the idea of this girl's lips wasn't entirely unpleasant right then either.

"Who is that?" I motioned to the throng of people she had been looking at.

"Ramtin." She spat out the name like it had a bad taste on her tongue. I wanted to ask her more about him, but this wasn't the time. I had finally found him.

"Excuse me." I went to join the crowd.

Nakissa's friend recognized me and called me over to her side. "This is Ramtin." She almost purred out his name like a cat would. It seemed no one was indifferent to him.

I didn't have a plan. After all the effort I made to find him, now I didn't know how to proceed. Guillaume would say it's just like me. But I'd thought I'd find him at some secret lair where everything would come together. Instead, he was exactly where I had been looking for him.

"Hey!" I called out to him.

He turned slowly and raised one eyebrow. Why did super-villains or really cool people always do that? Was it part of some obscure teaching I wasn't aware of? Wasn't I cool enough to raise one eyebrow?

"I know you." His voice betrayed no emotion.

"Last we met was in Montreal."

"Oh, right! One of Aude's little boyfriends. How is she doing?"

I faltered. She was still missing. My family was disappointed in me for not going back to look for her. I was disappointed in myself. After Guillaume had yelled at me over the telephone before I came here tonight, I'd been so annoyed with his self-righteousness. I thought I should stay here, maybe until I ran out of essence and turned to stone. Maybe forever. He'd said I was being selfish. But stopping everything to find one girl who benefits only us wasn't selfish? He'd said nothing was as important as Aude. But everything couldn't rely on one girl, could it?

Yet, hearing Aude's name from Ramtin's lips made me want to find her and make sure she was safe.

I tried to look cool and shrugged. "She's okay."

"Really?" he cocked his head to the side. "Last I heard, she had been in some trouble."

"What did you hear?" I pushed myself up against him and grabbed him by the collar. Out of nowhere, four large men with massive amounts of essence (and muscles) pulled me away from him. They dragged me through the party and right out the door.

I needed to know what he knew. Suddenly my hunt for Ramtin made sense. It was no longer about me doing my own thing or getting away. It was about helping my family. I paced the ground between the horse stables and the barn and tried to decide my next course of action. Ramtin's words reinforced my weak decision to stay behind.

He could be responsible for Aude's disappearance. At the very least, he knew something about it.

When the party-barn's door opened again, I readied myself to face Ramtin, but instead came face to face with the girl from my past.

She didn't say anything at first. Only watched me. Her lips were set and her eyes sparkled with life even while she stood with her arms crossed against her chest. That was so Nagissa.

She opened her mouth a few times, frowned and said nothing. Finally she walked to the fence by the stables and rested her forearms on it watching the horses.

I joined her. "Nakissa?"

The moonlight highlighted her silky uncovered hair. "I don't like him. I don't know why but I just don't trust him. You're connected to him, somehow, yet I feel I can trust you. Why is that?"

I didn't know what to answer her. I wasn't entirely sure about her myself. She seemed to be on my side. She reminded me so much of Nagissa it hurt. But who was she really?

Ramtin was powerful. One usually didn't accumulate so much power without deception. She was tied to Nagissa. And whether I liked it or not, Nagissa was infinitely tied to Ramtin. It's why I had left her. Why I continued on my travels along the Silk Road. If her heart had been free, I may have stopped in Esfahan for a long time. Maybe I would never have left.

"They didn't hurt you, did they?" Her crooked, almost teasing smile wasn't Nagissa's but all her own. She stepped closer to me and, after a quick look around to see if anyone was watching, took my arm in her hands, examining it. "I think you'll live."

I smiled. I couldn't help but like her. At first I'd thought my attraction was due to her link, whatever it was, to the girl from my past, but there was something more. She was vulnerable and open in that human way I always tried to imitate.

While still holding my arm, she blinked a few times and frowned as if she had a headache or a disturbing thought.

"Garnier? What are you doing back in Iran? Why didn't you say good bye when you left?"

Despite myself, a chill crept up my arm.

"Nagissa?"

She shook her head slightly. "Nakissa." A small humorless laugh escaped her lips. "How come you have such a difficult time pronouncing it?"

Something big had happened, but I didn't know what it was. And it was already over. She was the same girl I'd known her to be. Never mind that for a moment I had been entirely certain she was someone else.

"Are you okay?" I asked. She didn't seem completely steady on her feet.

"Yes, I think so. I'm just very tired." She cocked her head to the side and gnawed on just a little corner of her lips. The gesture was so human.

"Do you want a ride home?"The night air was becoming chilly and though I could handle it without much complaint, I would be more comfortable in my rental car. From the way she rubbed her arms, I imagined she would be too.

"I should find Leyli... but I doubt she'll be ready to go." She looked at the closed door. "And for some reason I'm just not feeling the party like I was earlier. I'm ready to head out of here." She paused and took her mobile from her pocket. "You know what? I'll just text her."

Leyli will kill me. I've ditched her and Ehsan at the party and am taking off in her crush's car. But it's cold outside and it's not like she went out to talk to him after we saw Ramtin's bodyguards kick him out. I don't know why I followed him but it seems we have some sort of connection.

Because I'm attracted to him doesn't mean I'm trying to get somewhere with him. I'm a good girl. And though I should be worried about getting into a stranger's car, especially out here in the middle of nowhere, I didn't get any weird or creepy vibes from him.

My phone dings so I check it. It's a text from Leyli.

"You'll never guess who I'm with and you're a bitch."

I start typing a smart ass reply but stop. I'm not exactly sure if Leyli is kidding or not.

"What's wrong?" Garnier asks me.

I open my mouth to tell it's nothing, but then I look at him. I know him. I can tell him anything and everything. Maybe if I open myself to him I won't lose him again. Not that he's mine or has ever been mine. Why did I think that? Something strange is going on and he's at the center of it all. Garnier's still waiting for my answer.

"Leyli called me a bitch and I'm not sure if she's serious or not."

"Oh." He scratches the back of his neck. He doesn't know what to say and his awkwardness makes me laugh.

"I like you like this," he says. "Laughing. She didn't laugh much..."

"Who?"

He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. About your friend..."

Nope, doesn't matter that he's comparing me to an ex-girlfriend or something.

"I'll just ask her what she means." That's the mature thing to say, I think.

I quickly type up a message.

"Who are you with and what's wrong? :( "

She doesn't answer and we continue driving along the deserted road back into the city. Our tired silence is interrupted now and again by talk of music and American pop culture. And by the time Leyli answers me, we are back in the city proper.

"I'm with Ramtin. He's so sweet. But he had wanted to watch YOU play."

I'm not sure if she's mad at me because it was me he was hoping to see, or because I'm not there. A tiny worry creeps into my thoughts. Will Leyli be okay with Ramtin? I let it go. She's strong and resourceful. She can take care of herself. Just because I don't like Ramtin doesn't mean he's dangerous. I type up a quick apology (even though I'm not sure what I'm apologizing about) and return my attention to Garnier.

"She's with Ramtin. I guess she's upset because he wanted to see me play."

"Do you encounter him often?"

"Who? Ramtin? No, of course not. This isn't really my crowd."

"I didn't think so."

What does he mean by that? Did I stick out with these other guys? Am I not cool enough? Sophisticated enough? I cross my arms. No one takes me seriously.

The car jerks abruptly a few times and the motion really grinds on my nerves. We've been mostly at a standstill in traffic for the past few minutes.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why aren't you driving?"

Garnier points to the cars zigzagging into place in front of him. "This is insane. They don't give me a chance to --"

"What? The traffic isn't even that bad at this time. Let me..."

I grab hold of the steering wheel and stand up in the car, to give him a chance to scoot over to my seat. "I'll take over."

He just looks at me.

"Take my seat," I insist.

He hesitates for a few more seconds during which time a few more cars have slid in position ahead of us.

"Come on."

He finally listens to me and tries to slide over to my seat. Of course, his foot gets stuck on the hand brake and he ends up pressed against me, pushing me flat against the windshield. I can just imagine what would happen if the morality police saw us in that position.

After a few attempts he drops to the passenger seat and I take the driver's seat. I adjust the seat and mirror, and immediately find an opening to squeeze through. Garnier's sharp intake of breath leads me to believe he didn't think we'd make it.

At least he's no longer gripping to the side of the car by the time we reach my home.

"Thanks for the ride." I smile.

He laughs. "Thanks for teaching me how to drive in Tehran traffic."

"That wasn't traffic."

"It is where I come from."

I shrug. But I'd like to see where he comes from. Ehsan sometimes mentions his cousins in Vancouver but my family is mostly still here, other than an uncle in Europe and a few distant cousins in Australia.

I open the door to leave but he stops me.

"Can I call you?"

I want him to call me. Badly. But I can't say yes. Even if I don't know where I stand with Ehsan right now, I can't really screw up whatever chance there still is. Can I? And what about Leyli's crush?

My heart sinks.

"I think it's better if you don't," I say.

My throat feels dry, as if telling a boy he can't call me will actually make me cry.

He doesn't say anything and I can't tell if he expected me to say yes or no. In the end, I mentally shrug it off and let myself out of the car. I hesitate before entering the building gates, but I don't turn around. I can't fall for a foreigner right now. Nothing good could come out of that.

The nagging feeling still hasn't left me and I want to talk to Leyli before I go to bed. But she's not answering her phone, or her texts. I know she's annoyed but I wish she'd stop acting like a baby and let it go. It's not like her to hold a grudge. If Leyli gets mad, she blows up, lets it all out and moves on. She's never ignored me before. Is she completely pissed at me? Why? Because I left with Garnier?

Maybe Ehsan knows something. I should call him. Or text him. But I have no idea what's going on between us, and I don't want him to think I'm clingy. I go from being annoyed with him to feeling hurt and rejected. I'm not even sure if he's still my boyfriend. I'm in the dark about everything. EVERYTHING. It seems like just yesterday I was sure about my place in the world. Now I'm fighting against the current and I'm losing my mind.

Literally.

I'm not going crazy. That'd be too normal. Mental breakdowns are a dime a dozen after all. No, instead it's like my awareness is being replaced by something else. How else can I explain the strange memories and errant thoughts?

When my phone rings, I pick it up right away without even looking at the number on the display.

"Hello?"

"Nakissa?"

I don't recognize the voice on the other end. It's a girl, but not Leyli. There is a lot of noise in the background. "Who is this?"

"It's Roxana. Ehsan said you would play with us tonight. Where are you?" Her pitch is a little off.

"I'm home. I wasn't feeling well. Wait. He said I would play?"

"You weren't feeling well?" she screams. It catches me completely by surprise. She'd seemed calm just moments before.

"Do you think Farâsoo is just a little shit band with no responsibility? Didn't you think there was a reason you were invited to this party?"

"But you weren't the one who invited me. And no one told me..."

"It doesn't matter," she screamed.

I don't know if I want to yell back at her or cry. Every part of my body is trembling. I'm going to throw up.

"Roxana, I didn't even know I was supposed to be playing." I try to remain calm, but my voice is a little too high and whiny. I hate whiny girls.

"You should have known. You're not logging on to the forums. You haven't accepted my online invitations. It's like you're not taking any of this seriously."

"What online invitations?"

"We had a special guest here to watch you tonight. A very special guest. Do you understand how upset he was when you didn't show? You cost us something tonight. When Ramtin from Fetid Crimson is interested in your band, you don't fool around."

"No one told me anything."

"Well you should ask then. We can't just hold your hand through everything." I hold my phone away from my ear to deal with the screaming. I've never had someone lose it on me so completely. "Listen well, Nakissa. You're good enough that I'll give you one last chance. You better not screw up again. Now, I have to go get drunk or something to forget about the problems you've caused me."

She hangs up, but I can't move. My rational mind tells me she's wrong to treat me like this. It tells me I should ditch her and the band and find people who'll treat me better. But another part of me is shaking like a leaf. That part is broken. I'm disgusted with myself for letting someone down. I feel guilty for not having done the right thing for the band. I don't want to disappoint anyone. I want to be good enough. Good enough for Roxana. Good enough for Ehsan. I'm not even good enough for Leyli anymore.

I collapse on my bed in tears. I'm not made for this difficult life. Maybe Maman and Bijan's idea to move to Texas isn't a bad one. A new life might be what I need.

I fall asleep thinking of Leyli, and Garnier, of Ramtin and Roxana. I don't sleep well that night.

My hotel room was dark. I flicked the main light over and over but it wouldn't turn on. I adjusted my vision but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Still, my senses were on alert. I closed the distance to the side table lamp and clicked it on.

It worked. It had only been the main light that had burnt out. I let out my held breath and made mental note to talk to the staff about this when I next passed by the front desk. I turned down the rich gold and red brocade covers but didn't climb in. I was wired. Strange feeling since I hadn't been near an essencialist since I last saw Aude. My essence should start waning soon. But there was nothing I could do about it. Even if I went back home, Aude was still missing. Ramtin could be involved but I needed to find out quickly. I couldn't keep dragging this one out.

I needed a next step. A plan. Maybe I could find that animal-like entity that had been following me. It wasn't much of a clue but it was something. I couldn't put all of my hopes on Nakissa, as I much as I wanted to. And as I'd figured out tonight, approaching Ramtin without a plan or an idea of what he was involved in was not only careless, but also useless.

I put on my shoes, grabbed my leather jacket and gave myself a quick look in the mirror before leaving my room again. The dark circles under my eyes attested to the fact that this land had taken its toll on me. A toll I could see on the faces of many of its people.

On my way out, I told the man about my broken light, and exited out on to the street before he had a chance to respond. I walked south. I didn't take a taxi. I needed to observe my surroundings. Look for clues. My nerves buzzed in the quiet of night. My muscles were tight, ready for action. It was either some supernatural sixth sense or wishful thinking, but I knew something important would happen tonight.

The air had a natural chill to it. The sound of my footsteps echoed and returned to me slightly louder, more complicated. But it was all me. The moon could barely be seen in the sky, but I knew it was there watching my progress, a small man in such a large city.

One could disappear in a city that size. Who would know? And, of course, people disappeared all the time in Tehran. Yet, here I was, on my own, wandering aimlessly, hoping I would find what? A clue about Ramtin? No, it wasn't what I was looking for. What I really wanted to find tonight was the supernatural.

I eyed the entrance to a metro station. There was something about dark underground places that attracted supernatural creatures. Unfortunately the subway was closed until 5:30 in the morning, so I'd have to continue walking. I made a mental note to check out the metro if I was still looking for a lead by morning. But I didn't think I'd have any problem encountering supernatural creatures in Tehran.

I didn't know if older lands were more filled with these creatures or whether they, being more accustomed to humanity, were simply more likely to show themselves to people other than their own kind. Whichever it was, it had been my experience that the more history was seeped into a land, the more diversity of life it carried. When I had last visited Persia, Nagissa had told me about the Jinn. She had told me of a creature named Pareen. A creature she referred to as a fairy, but I came to realize was a Jinni, like genies of old tales and the hoofed-foot mischief maker of folklore. Pareen had a strong interest in the affairs of humans.

I felt it, then. I was being followed. I turned quickly and saw a stone creature amble towards me. This time it wasn't trying to hide. Not until a motorcycle roared in the distance and the creature was spooked off. I walked towards where I last saw it. Slowly, trying not to frighten it. But the motorcycle was louder and louder. Until it stopped. Next to me.

"What are you up to?" the rider asked.

I was about to tell him to mind his own business, but took a good look at him first. His unshaved beard, well, the little of it he had managed to grow at his age, casual clothes, and white and black scarf pegged him as a member of the morality police. I tensed with apprehension as he approached. I'd heard stories about these guys and though I wasn't frightened, I just didn't want trouble. Anyway, I was wearing a brand new designer dress shirt that I really didn't want to get dirty.

The boy eyed me warily and I remained expressionless. It would be more convenient if I didn't have to beat him up.

"What is going on here?" He spoke Persian in a rough village accent that made me cringe.

"Nothing is going on, sir. I simply couldn't sleep so I am taking a walk."

"Are you coming home from a party?"

"No, I'm wandering. I like Tehran, it is a nice city to visit and I wanted to experience it at night. Is what I'm doing illegal?"

"Where are you visiting from?"

"Canada."

"Show me your passport."

"My passport is being held by my hotel, of course."

I couldn't tell if my answers satisfied the young man.

As if nervous about something, he looked around to make sure no one was watching. He spoke to me in a barely decipherable English. "Amreeka is a great land for opportunity, but they are very, very bad people, yes?"

"Everywhere has its share of good and bad people."

"Yes, but here we do something about the bad people. I work hard to guide my fellow citizen to be moral. In Amreeka no one guides the people. It is very sad." The man took a handful of sunflower seeds out of his pocket and popped one into his mouth. He spat out the shell before continuing to talk. "I wish to go to Amreeka one day. You stay safe and have a nice night, my friend."

He hopped on his motorcycle, gave me one last searching look and sped off.

_That  _didn't exactly go as I'd expected. Hopefully the paranormal encounters I wished for tonight would also be easier than expected.

I couldn't feel the presence anymore, however, so I continued walking. I went along for several street blocks before I felt it again. When I turned, I saw it. Again, he didn't hide. He wanted me to see him. He wasn't exactly a dog. More like a small stone griffin, the likes of which one would find in the ruins of Persepolis. I knelt down and gently stuck my palm out, inviting him towards me. I was trying to attract him like a timid dog. He lowered his head and pawed closer. Once he got close enough that I could touch him, he shifted into a beautiful greyhound. Someone had created a Gargoyle out of a dog. The dog nodded his head southward a few times and I understood it wanted me to follow it. I chuckled to myself. No doubt tonight would be interesting.

For the next few hours, the dog led me through the city. He knew exactly where he wanted me to go and I followed. After a long walk, we entered Jinn territory in south Tehran. The deeper in I went, the more the very air around me was filled with desolation. This wasn't a place for humans. Even creatures like me felt too human, here. The dog shifted back into its griffin form just before we rounded a corner. The sun started to rise, illuminating the street with golden hues. There, only one home's garden wall remained completely intact. It suited the neighborhood, with its unkempt look, mostly made out of stone. Some salvaged wood boards had been put up in spots where the stones had crumbled. The iron gate was rusty and padlocked with a chain. More old salvaged wood boards were tied to the gate, preventing anyone from seeing what was beyond the wall, though overgrown trees and vegetation crept out.

A sound that was a mixture between a bark and some sort of lion-like growl resounded through my head and I realized the creature was using its mind voice. And I could hear it.

Footsteps resonated from the other side of the door along with the sound of scraping metal. The wood boards were spread apart a few inches and aged hands reached through to unlock the padlock. The hands pulled the door inwards.

What I saw then defied logic.

Beyond the old, abandoned-looking gates was a majestic garden. A tiled path lined by large trees covered in buds led towards a rectangular pool with a sparkling fountain. An elderly woman covered from head to toe closed the gate behind me and motioned for me to follow. I looked for the griffin-dog, but he had run off chasing after a small rabbit. Birds flew from tree to tree chirping in the early morning light. I followed the woman, who led me towards the pool which was lined in mosaics of blues and yellow. Early spring flowers in yellow and magenta formed clusters in newly sprouting gardens.

I spun in a circle and gaped at what I saw. There was no way this place was this big from the outside, but I knew of no manipulation of essence that could do this sort of magic. The woman clucked her tongue and I returned my attention to her. She led me towards the main building. It reminded me of the Golestan Palace – a former royal complex here in the city – but it was fresher, somehow. In its prime.

Though vine covered the brick walls giving it a wild look, the structure itself shone as if it had never seen hardship or dirt. A few more buildings graced the compound. They were all ornate combinations of brick and mosaic, curves and straight lines, arches, and large glass windows that shone in the still rising sun. Scattered around the gardens, shaded by trees, were benches, filled with people. Some were covered like the silent woman who led me, while others hardly wore anything in the cold air.

The old woman motioned for me to stop and disappeared inside one of the smaller buildings. Before I could figure out what I was waiting for, I saw it. It started small, low to the ground. A sort of smokeless fire, I knew what I was looking at was pure essence. It burned in a blue and purple flame with edges of gold, growing bigger and bigger until it was as big as I was and looked ready to engulf me. But it shifted and I saw her. Vaguely at first. Blurry through the flame but she became more and more solid.

Her stance was one of someone who was in charge. She was obviously the mistress of this compound. Her shiny dark auburn hair was piled in large loops on her top of her head. Her unnatural bluish violet eyes glowed with that same smokeless fire, contrasting with the dark kohl that lined them. Her skin was incredibly pale but not white. Instead it glowed a soft golden color. She smelled of jasmine and lilac mixed with cinnamon and cardamom.

She tilted her head downward and I followed her gaze. For a moment, her feet appeared like animal hooves, but I blinked several times and they became perfectly human, covered in jeweled golden slippers. She had wanted me to know she was Jinn. An odd thing for a mischievous creature said to like to play tricks. But maybe they behaved better with other supernatural creatures.

"Welcome to my home." Her Persian was as formal as mine. Her teeth shone white when she flashed me a smile.

She unhinged me. I couldn't concentrate on anything except her. I was mesmerized by her gaze, enchanted by her voice, speechless from her scent. She laughed like wind chimes tickled by the breeze.

Her form shimmered around the edge and she shifted. She looked the same, but also different. Her beauty was human. It no longer captivated me.

"Sometimes I forget how human your types are," she said.

"So you are Jinn? Why did you bring me here?" I asked her.

"Well, I didn't actually bring you here, Deleer makes his own decisions."

_'Deleer, come here boy._ '

The small griffin bounded around the corner and came to a stop by his mistress's feet. I wanted a pet griffin.

"Deleer is my eyes in the world when I cannot leave my home, but it was his initiative that brought you here. And yet, it had to be your initiative as well. Why did you seek me?"

"Seek you?" I didn't feel entirely well. I was confused beyond reason and my head was cloudy. The air in this garden was too fragrant. It defied reason.

"For Deleer to show himself to you, you had to be thinking of me."

I tried to remember what I had thought of before I first saw Deleer. I had thought of Nagissa. I had thought of the Jinn. I had thought of one Jinni in particular.

"Pareen."

"Yes, but I'm afraid I don't have the pleasure of knowing you. Or how you know me." She grimaced. Despite how she carried herself and the confidence she exerted, Pareen was uncomfortable with our meeting. Names hold power, especially for her kind. Though this was her common name, not the secret one that could be used to bring her to her knees, for Nagissa to tell me Pareen's name had been a big deal.

So I explained to her who I was. I explained about Nagissa and Ramtin. She stopped me when I mentioned him.

"I don't like what he's doing. Actually, I'm very worried about his dealings."

Finally! Someone had answers. "Well, that makes two of us. Except you have the advantage of knowing more it seems. What is he up to?"

She sighed. Her form shimmered slightly but she became solid again. "My people have been following him for several years now. He's amassing power. Enough power to put an end to us."

"An end to who? Everyone? The Jinn?"

"The Jinn, mostly, but not only us. Anyone with power. Political power, natural power, wealth. He is targeting them all."

"Targeting them? Why?"

"How much do you know about Ramtin?"

I started pacing along the pool, watching the sun's reflection. "I know he is in a rock band."

She nodded. "He always reinvents himself in ways that give him access to important people."

"I also know he had something to do with a native prophecy coming true."  
"A native prophecy?"

"A prophecy about the seventh generation after the first contact of these people with the European settlers. It is a prophecy about destruction of the land. A lot of it has happened already; the earthquakes for example."

"The earthquakes were part of a prophecy? What else?"

"Soulless stone monsters. They are not yet so numerous in Montreal that the general population knows about them, but I'm afraid it's getting worse."

"We've seen a few here, but we can dispatch them easily enough," she said. "Do you know what Ramtin is?"

"He is one like me. One like Nagissa."

"He is one like Nagissa was, but not exactly one like you."

"Nagissa  _was_?"

"Every story has its time. Ramtin is what you like to call a Gargoyle. But as you were created by sacrificing an essencialist and taking all her essence, Ramtin and his kind were created by sacrificing a Jinni. That makes him a lot more powerful than the type you are accustomed to meeting."

"But Jinn are made..."

She nodded. "Yes, Jinn are made of nothing but essence. So, though a powerful enough essencialist, or one you are bonded to, can feed or pull essence from you, she could do little for Ramtin's type."

"So then I need the Jinn to fight Ramtin?"

"I'm not sure. Ramtin has been amassing an army of sorts. He's recruiting anybody with any ability to manipulate essence... Luckily, the world is in short supply of these as of late. But he's been preying on my kind as well. I don't know if anything can stop him. Did you seek me out to ask about Ramtin? If you did, I'm afraid I have no answers."

"You've already told me a lot. But I came looking for answers about Nagissa." And then I had an idea. If Ramtin knew about Aude's trouble, could she be here? "And a young Canadian essencialist named Aude Vanier. I need to know if she's here."

"You ask for a lot from me, Gargoyle. What do I get in return?"

"We share a common enemy. This should be reward enough." I had no idea how to negotiate with a creature such as her. Hopefully I was going about it the right way.

She shrugged.

"I'm not kept up to date on every essencialist that enters the country, anymore. There was a time when the Jinn that worked at ports of entry reported to me, but now they report to others like me that have power in the government. I can tell you about Nagissa, though."

The thought of seeing Nagissa again made my blood run hot and cold. The time I had spent with  _the girl_  had gone a long way in reawakening my feelings... but who were those feelings really for? Regardless, Nagissa could perhaps help where Pareen could not. "Where is she?"

"Dead."

My heart dropped. "But she can't be. You just said how powerful her kind is. She couldn't die."

"They are not immortal. Just more powerful. And my sources tell me Ramtin was responsible, right around the time of the revolution."

"She's been dead since 1979?"

How could I have lost her so long ago and never known? She was never mine to lose, but in a way it seemed something should have been different about the very air I breathed if she was no longer alive.

When I left the hidden garden, the springtime oasis I had found among the ruins of the South Tehran ghettos, the scenery had become colorless. I was surprised at my reaction. I hadn't even been certain I wanted to see her again, but she had been timeless somehow. Now I knew she had been created by the magic of the Jinn... and yet she was no more.

It's the beginning of the Nowruz holiday and though I don't have to get up to go to school, I still get up. I'm worried sick about Leyli. I've called her, I've left her voicemails, I've texted her. No answer. I'm starting to worry that the problem is much more serious than her simply being upset with me. As a last resort, I dial her home number. Her mother scares me.

The woman answers on the first ring.

"Where is Leyli?" she asks me, skipping all customary greetings.

"I don't know. I was sure she'd be home by now."

I stand up and look at the city from my bedroom window. I press my forehead against the glass while I think. Where could she be?

"Wasn't she with you? What happened? Where are you?"

"I'm home, Mrs. Abbasi. Leyli didn't come home last night?"

Leyli's mother wails into the telephone. "Where was she taken? Why didn't I get any notice that my child is in jail? The party was raided, yes?"

"I don't know. I left early."

"Without Leyli? How could you just leave her behind?"

"She asked me to."

"You left her. You two should have looked out for each other. I only agreed to this party because she was going with a  _responsible_  friend."

A cocktail of emotions brews inside me. Panic and anger. Fear and hopelessness. It isn't fair that Leyli's mother is blaming me. It isn't fair that Leyli was upset with me. I want to throw myself on the floor and kick around that it's just not fair. But I don't; I take a deep breath and try to gain control of my emotions.

 "Did you get any calls?"

"No, I didn't. I don't know where she is and you are the last person to see her, Nakissa."

"Actually, no. Ramtin is."

Mrs. Abbasi's already shrill voice rises. "Who is Ramtin?"

I tell her about Ramtin and about Leyli's last text message. I tell her everything including how I left the party in her crush's car.

"Have you called the police?" I ask.

"Yes, but I can't say too much to them, can I? What if they think she spent the night with a boy? And now it looks like she did. You will help me find her, Nakissa."

"I don't think my Mom will let me go out today.,." I feel guilty. It's probably true, but I should help find Leyli. Yet, I have this paralyzing fear. A dread that she's with Ramtin and that it's one of the worst things that could happen to her.

"Let me talk to your mother, Nakissa. I will simply call her on your home line otherwise. I need you to show me where you left my poor helpless daughter."

I cringe at Mrs. Abbasi's dramatic representation of Leyli, but instantly feel bad. Poor Leyli is missing. What is Maman going to make of all this? She was so hesitant about me going to the party in the first place. But Leyli is missing and I'm scared about so much more than Maman's reaction.

I find her in the kitchen preparing the rice to let it soak so Bijan can prepare it for dinner. It's strange to see her like this. At home and domestic. Before her accident, she was always at the hospital, working.

"Maman?" My voice catches and she turns instantly.

"What's wrong?"

All my pent up anger and worry and fear come crumbling out of me and I hide into her arms. I have the phone on mute and Mrs. Abbasi can wait because she is not the only one who is scared. I need my mother for myself for just a while longer. But then the tears start and I have to say something before I completely fall apart.

"Leyli's missing." I sniff a few times, still trying to discourage the tears threatening to find their way down my cheeks. "I was the last one to see her. I left without her. It's my fault. Mrs Abbasi blames me and she's right." I give her the phone and turn to hide in my room, but Maman's tone as she answers the phone stops me in my tracks.

It is compassionate but not kind. "Listen, Mrs. Abbasi, I understand how frightening this is for you but you have no right to be taking it out on my daughter. She is just as frightened as you are and adding guilt to her shoulders will not help anyone."

Maman is quiet for a while and I wonder how Leyli's mother is reacting to my mother's words.

"Yes, it would have been preferable if the girls had stayed together, but they didn't. Now I know both of our daughters can be very stubborn. I also know we all share that trait, but while we stand around pointing fingers and deciding who we should blame, no one is looking for Leyli. Don't you agree?" Mom pauses again. "Exactly, and we both know how real the dangers out there are." Another pause. "Yes. That makes sense. I will send Bijan with her as well. I think it is best that way." I wonder if Maman is sending Bijan along to look after me, or to make sure Mrs. Abbasi doesn't get out of line. Whichever reason it is, I'm grateful.

The two women exchange several insincere formalities and I get antsy. I just want Maman to hang up the phone. I want her to tell me everything is going to be alright.

But Maman simply hands me my phone. "Go get ready, Nakissa. I'll go talk to Bijan."

I stand still wanting to say something, but I don't know whether to thank her or to tell her I love her. I hug my arms against a shiver. Maman leaves the room, off to find her husband. He will know what to do. Leyli will be safe.

I go to my room to get ready. I dress in conservative black so as to not attract attention. I can't stand the idea of having to deal with anything else today. But when I look in the mirror, I stop abruptly. I look like I'm in mourning. God, I hope Leyli is okay.

The drive out of town is spent mostly in awkward silence punctuated by Leyli's mother muttering prayers under her breath. Leyli's older brother Mehran is driving. I haven't seen him in a long time and I'm surprised at how handsome he's become, but he's still as quiet and surly as he's always been.

By the time we make it to the turn off, I swear we've been in the car for two years. The gate to the property is closed this time so Bijan rings the buzzer. But there is no answer.

He tries again and again. On the third time, someone finally answers. Bijan doesn't waste time with formalities "Let us in."

"Who are you? Why should I let you in?"

"We are parents of people who were at  _your_  party last night and if you don't let us in, we will call the police. I think you would prefer to deal with us, no?"

There is no answer from the other side of the intercom. I know why. The young man is afraid Bijan is here to beat him up. It wouldn't be the first time an angry parent beats up a boy over a party his daughter went to. And it certainly wouldn't be the last.

Bijan starts to lose his patience and buzzes the ringer repeatedly.

"Let me try," I say. "Hello?"

No answer.

"I know you can hear me. My step-father isn't going to hurt you. We just want to ask you some questions about last night. My best friend is missing and this is the last place we saw her. I'm sure you're not responsible, but if you won't let us in, it makes you look guilty. Even if you aren't."

The young man still doesn't say anything, but the gate clicks. He unlocked it. Bijan nods to me in approval and I give him a weak smile.

I always enjoy getting Bijan's approval. It's like he's my real father, and I need that since mine died when I was little.

The farm looks different in the light. More... farm-like. We bypass the small building near the gate and head directly for the barn where the party was held. The doors are wide open and the interior is still a mess from last night's party. The place looks entirely different. Without the cover of night and fancy equipment it looks shabby and dirty. Hardly a place for Tehran's elite to gather. A few people are passed out on bales of hay. Empty bottles, cigarette butts, and other trash litter the floor. A discarded used needle indicates that a lot more was happening at this party than what I saw.

 A man about thirty years old comes in and greets us coldly while rubbing his head. We've interrupted a hangover.

Mrs. Abbasi shoves a picture of Leyli in his face. "Where is my daughter? What happened to my daughter?"

The man takes a few steps away from the woman and puts his hands up. His movements are slow. "I've never seen her before."

"She disappeared from your party."

Mehran puts his hand on Mrs. Abbasi's arm. "Please calm down, Maman. We don't know for sure. Who did you say she was with when you last saw her, Nakissa?"

"Ramtin."

The man lets out a low whistle. "I still can't believe he came to my party." He straightens his shirt collar as if he finally remembers to try to look cool. "Don't get me wrong, I'm used to hosting for the elite, but this is Ramtin. He's not elite, he's royalty."

A low growl from Bijan startles us all. The man sighs and sits down on the nearby sofa. He put his head in his hand. I wonder how much of it is a hangover and how much is an act because he doesn't want to deal with us anymore.

"I don't know where Ramtin hangs out, okay? And quite honestly, I don't think he would have needed to take that girl against her will. Hello? It's Ramtin we're talking about. Girls just throw themselves at him."

Mrs. Abbasi takes a step towards him, but Bijan stops her. "Let's see if anyone else knows anything."

He gently kicks awake a sleeping man who groans as he opens his eyes. Mehran interrogates him, but he knows even less than the host. So Bijan repeats the process with every person there, but the most we get out of anyone is that she was seen with Ramtin.

Bijan wrings his hands and faces Leyli's family. "Other than going to the police, I don't know what else we can do."

"I can't go to the police."

"I understand." He paces to the door and turns back to face us again. "We will alert everyone we know. Ramtin, whoever he is, seems to move in a different social circle than us, but I'd be surprised none of our friends have connections to the right person. We will do everything we can to help you find her. Right, Nakissa?"

I shake my head. I can't speak. The lump that started forming in my throat when I realized Leyli was missing has grown. And as much as I defended myself when Mrs. Abbasi put the blame on me, I can't help but feel guilty for leaving her with Ramtin. Maybe it is my fault.

Our drive back is even more strained than our drive there. I wonder if Mrs. Abbasi blames herself too. It can't be only my fault, can it? What if Leyli never comes back? What if I never see my friend again and I'm left alone?

I hung up my phone and threw it on the bed. Nothing made sense. Aude was still missing and the few clues seemed to lead to Ramtin. But Ramtin was here. Here where Nakissa was. And who was Nakissa? A descendant of Nagissa? Was this Marguerite and Aude all over again? Was I finding myself attracted to a girl because she reminded me of someone else?

But there was more to Nakissa. A lot of what attracted me the most were the things that made her different from Nagissa. I paced back and forth along the length of the hotel suite. From the window overlooking Tehran to the door leading out of the room and back again.

Each footstep amplified my frustration. What was I missing? There was a clue here to Aude's disappearance. A clue to the earthquakes. To the dead birds and fish. Back at the window again, I rested both palms against the cold glass and looked down to the street. People were scurrying about. Traffic was crazy. Cars and pedestrians found their way through following no rules or logic.

Again. No logic. What was it about this ancient land that attracted chaos and nonsense? Why couldn't I think straight? I needed to see Nakissa again. I knew she didn't want to see me. The chemistry between us was so strong and she was involved with someone, but that didn't matter. I couldn't think clearly enough right now to even consider what all of that meant. I had other things to worry about.

I needed to figure out the connection between Aude's disappearance and Ramtin. Guillaume had just told me their research into Aude's phone records indicated Ramtin had called her mere minutes before she left her house without explanation. Why was Ramtin interested in Aude? Because of her essence? Why was he interested in Nakissa?

I pushed away from the window and walked back to my bed. I picked up my phone and called the girl named Leyli. My closest tie to Nakissa.

But Leyli wasn't answering. Of course. Because it had been that type of morning. That type of week. That type of year, even. Ever since Aude woke us up from the Montreal church tower from which we had spent seventy years watching, nothing had been easy.

I texted Davood to tell him I wanted to meet up and he told me to come to his place of business.

So, I slipped on my designer jeans, a dress shirt and a dark gray cardigan and fixed my hair. I wasn't looking for Nakissa because I was attracted to her, but it didn't mean I didn't want to look my best if I saw her. Looking my best was something I was good at at least. I slid on a pair of shades and headed for the door.

On Mirdamad Boulevard, about a block from Davood's, an antique shop caught my attention. I asked the taxi driver to let me off and ducked into the quaint local shop. I didn't know what came over me. Why did I get an impulse to enter this store when I had so much more important things in my mind? But there was a pull I couldn't ignore.

The antique dealer greeted me with a jabbering stream of Persian mixed with English, and a few other languages. He slapped me on the back a few times. A fog of strangeness permeated the air and threatened to envelop my mind. I looked down, and for a moment his feet appeared as hooves. When I shook my head, I saw nothing abnormal. I was dealing with a Jinni.

"I have just the thing you are seeking." This time, he spoke in perfect English. He dug deep into his pocket and removed trinket after trinket. There was no way all these items fit in his pocket.

I took a few steps back from him.

"Ah ha!" The short, rotund man pulled out a long chain with a pendant and handed it to me.

Curious, I reached and took it from him. On it was a hand painted miniature of a dark haired girl playing the harp. I looked at it closer.

It was Nagissa.

I looked to him and he grinned.

"How much?"

"For you, it's free."

Well used to  _târof_  – the art of politeness – I knew better than to accept his seemingly generous offer. This was just the beginning of what often turned out to be grueling bargaining sessions. I didn't have the time or energy for such a session today. I dug into my pockets and found my wallet.

"No, no, I insist it is free," he said.

This went beyond what I was used to in shops, but in private it wasn't uncommon for someone to offer something as a courtesy several times, even though they didn't actually intend to part with the object. I had no idea what rules governed the Jinn.

"Oh that is very generous, but please let me pay for this."

The shopkeeper giggled and his form wavered. One moment human, one moment breathtakingly beautiful, and then back to human again. The shift in his essence became tangible to me. Cold and hot as flame and then cold again. It was bright and vivid and I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed it until then. I hadn't known how to recognize a Jinni's essence since it is all they are made of. Had he done it on purpose so I would know his kind when I saw them?

"Don't worry my friend. You will pay your debt, but it is not a problem."

The idea of owing something to the Jinn made me more than a little uneasy. I began to place the locket back on the counter. The object fascinated me but it wasn't worth the potential cost.

The shopkeeper giggled again and gave the locket back to me. "Take it," he insisted. "The favor you will owe me is one you will want to do. You and I are walking similar paths." He looked me directly in the eyes and his brown eyes swirled with shades of turquoise blue before they settled back to their previous color. "She will help you fight Ramtin. And it," he pointed to the locket, "will help her."

I bowed my head to him and thanked him. He let out a booming laugh and wrapped his arms around me in a large awkward bear hug before kissing me on each cheek.

I still clutched the locket in my hand when I exited the store. I was just about to turn the corner towards Davood's shop when I felt that sharp Jinn essence I had just learned to identify. I turned expecting to see the shopkeeper, but instead came face to face with Pareen.

She was in an even duller version of her human form; her beauty was not as arresting in this form. Her black manteau was tight fitting in the fashionable style, but the black scarf covered almost all of her hair and neck. She looked caged somehow. The long colorful silk clothing she'd worn on our last meeting had been the freedom to her current imprisonment. Tightly bound by her clothing, she was constrained the way the mummies of Ancient Egypt were bound by their rags. The only sign of her spirit remained in the burning flame in her eyes. I couldn't believe the difference between the ocean of calm she'd been last I saw her and how she appeared to me now.

"We need your help," she whispered.

I looked behind at the shop where I had just encountered the other Jinni. What was it about Tehran and supernatural creatures? Was it always like this or was it just the events of the past few months drawing them out? Why did they all come to me? Couldn't they solve their own problems?

"You too? Do you know him? Are you working together? Or am I to be approached by every supernatural creature in Tehran today?"

She looked around "Who else?" Then her gaze settled in the direction of the antique shop where I was looking. "Oh. What did he want?"

"To give me something that will help Nagissa."

"Nagissa is dead."

"So you keep saying."

"What did he give you?"

I put my hand in my pocket but hesitated. I didn't know who I could trust and I was starting to feel drunk on all the essence that flowed so freely around these creatures. If only I could find a way to feed off it so I wouldn't feel so weak myself. I hated that I needed Aude so badly. Though if I learned anything from all of this, it seemed that there were more ways than one to do things with essence.

"Why did you come to find me?" I asked her.

She tilted her head. "You know my name," she said. "That gives you some measure of power over me, but don't think you can abuse it."

"So you came to tell me that I could have power over you if I wanted?" I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head. "Spill it Pareen. What do you want from me?"

"I need your allegiance."

"My allegiance?"

"A war is brewing and Ramtin is right in the middle of it all. I can defend myself against humans and most of the Jinn. But the power Ramtin is gathering is something different. I need his type of creature on my side. I need essence sucking creatures."

"I can't suck essence. Only our witches can."

"You can't?" She laughs. "Oh, Garnier, you are so very young. Sometimes I forget. Nagissa and Ramtin can both do it. Did you know that?"

Nagissa and Ramtin could withdraw essence from others without a witch? How was it possible? Everything has its limitations. And why did Ramtin surround himself with witches if he could just do the work himself? "I'm not here to argue with you, and I'm late for an appointment..." I turned my back to leave and hesitated. I faced her again. "If Ramtin and Nagissa can withdraw essence it means that they are different than me and the rest of my kind. I don't know how much help I can be, but if your side is against Ramtin, then consider me in your allegiance."

She nodded.

"Oh, and you may want to talk to that shopkeeper. Though it sounds like you already know him. It seems he's on your side too."

"Oh?" She cocked her head.

"He wants me to find Nagissa because she would help me fight Ramtin."

Pareen nodded and smiled faintly. "She certainly would. Thank you, Garnier. One can never be sure where her allies lie."

I nodded back at her and went to find Davood. I wasn't sure if she was talking about me or the shopkeeper, but I had a feeling she meant both.

I couldn't help but examine Davood carefully while he led me to the basement studio. But it seemed my third encounter of the day was to be a human one at last. Davood had told me about the studio set-up but I was impressed when I saw it. Very posh. Very _East meets West_. I was tempted to question him about it, even record a few songs myself, but I had other things to worry about.

"Where can I find Nakissa?" I asked.

"Why?"

"I need to find her. It's complicated."

He shook his head slowly and clucked his tongue at me. He took his phone out of his pocket and pressed a few things. He furrowed his brow. "I don't have her number. Here, let me give you Roxana's number. She's the lead singer of the band. I'm sure she'll be able to put you in touch with the harpist girl."

I entered the girl's number in my phone and thanked Davood. As I was about to leave, he put his hand on my arm.

"Roxana is going through some things right now."

I raised my eyebrow at him.

"I just mean..." he sighed." Well, she's a bit of a mess, and might not be easy to talk to. But if you can help her somehow, I'd be grateful."

I nodded and let myself out.

Once outside, I leaned back against the wall and stared at my cell phone. The Jinn wanted me to fight Ramtin, Davood wanted me to help Roxana, and more and more I just wanted to find whatever clue I could about Aude and go back home. Things here were too complicated.

I sighed and called Roxana.

"Yeah?" She answered in Persian.

"Hey, my name is Garnier. Davood gave me your number. I'm trying to get a hold of Nakissa and..."

"Garnier? I'm sorry Garnier but I can't talk to you. I'm sure they are listening."

"Who is listening?"

"Stop it. We've already said too much.  I'll meet you. Tonight. At your place."

"Ooo-kay. I'm staying at –"

"No. Don't tell me. They'll know. I'll find you. If we have friends in common as you claim it should be easy enough. Tonight nine o'clock."

She hung up.

She'd seemed panicked. Who was she so worried about? The government? The Jinn? Ramtin? Maybe Roxana had more answers for me than I had expected.

At nine o'clock, Roxana had yet to show up. I sat at a little table and sipped on a fruit juice concoction that was this bar's non-alcoholic version of a cocktail. Though I was normally quite fond of my Tom Collins and my Gin and Tonics, I simply wasn't fond enough to jump through the necessary hoops to indulge in this country.

Once Roxana arrived, however, it became quite obvious that she did go through the necessary means, and probably not just for alcohol.

She walked in covered from head to toe in a black chador. Though the moment she spotted me she threw it off, revealing a barely-there thin material head scarf and a too-tight fitting manteau. Her bleached-blonde hair looked dirty and her make-up was heavy and slightly smudged. Her hands trembled and she kept looking behind her as if she feared she would be followed.

"What's wrong? Who's after you?"

She looked at me blankly. "How do you know someone is after me?" She remained standing across the small bistro table. Ready to bolt at any instant. "Who told you? Who are you with?" She clutched the large piece of black fabric that had previously covered her with both hands, her knuckles white from the pressure.

"Please, won't you sit down? I don't mean you any harm. Maybe I could even help you."

"Help me? How could you, a foreigner, help me? You have no idea what he'll do to me."

"Who? Is it Ramtin?"

"Ramtin?"

"From Fetid Crimson."

"Oh. Why would I have contact with him? He's a god. You believe me to be a much bigger star than I am, azizam. Is this why you sought me out? Did you expect a famous star? I'm sorry to disappoint you, but you are just meeting a washed up junkie at your fancy hotel." Her voice escalated with every word. "How embarrassing this must be for you."

"Please calm down. I just need to get in contact with your harpist. With Nakissa." I had thought maybe I could help her with whatever it was that she was dealing with but her kind of crazy seemed to be really strong.

"Of course. Nakissa this and Nakissa that. I don't get what everyone's obsession is. She's just a harp player."

"I need to talk to her about a friend of mine from back home. A friend that's missing."

"Listen, lots of people go missing these days. Especially the artist types. The way I figure it,  _they_  get to them."

"They? Who is they?"

"Never mind that. So the harpist girl. I have her contact information but what is it worth to you?"

I opened my wallet and took all the money I had. A few traveler's checks and some bank notes. She eyed them but then shook her head. "No, I need more. I owe three million tomans. You give me the money, and we can both help each other out." Her eyes lingered on the money but she shook her head. "I need more."

Three million tomans was a complete rip off for a girl's phone number. I looked at Roxana carefully. She really was a mess. Maybe three million tomans could help turn her life around. Maybe I could do a good thing for her and help myself at the same time. And after the day I'd had, I was more than ready to get the information without more delay.

"Stay here," I said. "I have some more traveler's checks in my room."

She nodded with wide eyes.

I took the elevator up to my room, grabbed a few more traveler's checks to total the amount she requested. I couldn't believe I was paying nearly twenty-five hundred dollars for a girl's phone number. But I was doing more than that. I was helping out someone. Maybe, once this whole mess had blown over, I could become more of a philanthropist. I could help people in need.

I came back to the hotel lobby full of optimism, but it didn't last. The girl was no longer where I had left her. I was hurrying to the front desk to ask if they had seen her when I spotted her, by the doors, having a heated conversation with hotel security. I waved at her and she jutted her chin in my direction. The security guard looked at me and frowned.

"You should keep better company sir," he told me.

"Whose company I keep is entirely my own business."

"You forget where you are, sir. Nothing here is just our own business." He shook his head as he walked away.

I gave Roxana the money. "I hope you can find a way to fix your life with this. You should visit one of the addiction clinics. They'll be able to help you."

"Sure," she said. She pocketed the money and gave me a piece of paper on which was scrawled a phone number. "You must really like her to spend so much money on her phone number."

I smiled. I did really like her, but it wasn't why I needed to talk to her.

I didn't wait for Roxana to leave the building before I dialed Nakissa. There was no answer. Of course, nothing could go as I planned. I sent her a text and hoped she would get back to me as soon as possible. This whole adventure was starting to feel like a waste of time.

There is nothing to do. When I got back from trying to find Leyli, Bijan took away my laptop and mobile. He said it's just until he and Maman get a chance to discuss how to handle my situation.

My  _situation_. Because I'm a wild girl that goes to parties now. Maman recently admitted she got in all sorts of trouble when  _she_  was young. It's not fair.

The faint ding of an incoming text message catches my attention. This is the third message I've heard. I missed a call earlier too. What if Leyli is trying to reach me? I'm home alone, so I can't ask for permission, but I'm sure Maman and Bijan would understand. I don't mean to disobey them, but I have to do this for Leyli.

The first place I check is the kitchen drawer. But all I find there is junk. Next, I check the shelf above the closet and a few other places they often use to stash junk, but I can't find it anywhere.

I gaze at Maman and Bijan's bedroom. I know I shouldn't go snooping in there. But where else could it be? Still, the idea of going through their things makes me uncomfortable. What if I find something awkward? I shrug and go for it. For Leyli's sake.

I start with their drawers but find nothing. I'm about to move to the night table when I consider the house phone. I could just call my number and find my phone that way. I pick up the receiver and dial my number. The ring isn't coming from in here. As I exit my parents' room, I run into Ebi.

"What are you doing home?" I ask.

He raises his eyebrows and shrugs.

"Please don't tell Maman and Bijan."

He gives me the same gesture again. Little brothers are so frustrating.

"Are you going to get that?" He points towards the hallway closet where the ringing is coming from.

I don't answer him and make my way for the front closet. There, I find my phone buried deep in Bijan's jacket pocket.

"Got it!" I turn to secure a promise from Ebi that he won't tell our parents but he's gone. Whatever. I flick my fingers across the screen and find I have four new text messages and one missed call.

The first message is from Siavash reminding me of band practice tonight. The next message stops my breath. It's from Leyli.

"Hey, I'm with Ramtin. Sorry."

I don't know what to make of it. Doesn't she understand how worried everyone is? At least I now know she's not dead. I text her back.

"Where are you? Everyone is worried about you. Are you okay? Your parents are so scared for you."

I stare at my phone. But if Leyli got my message, she isn't answering right away. I try to call her but, once again, there's no answer. Oh Leyli, what is going on with you?

I have a message from an unknown number, and one from Ehsan. I check Ehsan's first.

"What's up?"

Really?  _What's up?_  That's all he has to say to me? I resist texting him back. I guess things are over between us, but I'm not sure what happened. If Leyli wasn't missing, she'd probably be able to analyze it with me. She'd even find a solution for getting him back. If I want him back.

I open the last message and it's completely unexpected. The cute foreigner guy. What's that saying about closing doors and opening windows? Maybe Garnier is my opened window. I smile to myself, but my smile fades. Leyli likes him. Though obviously she likes Ramtin more, so I can't really feel sorry for her, can I?

Maybe she's Ramtin's girlfriend now. I should be happy for her. This could be her ticket to the ultra glamorous and sexy rock and roll life she's always wanted. But the problem is that each time I think of Ramtin, my stomach knots up and I want to puke.

My vision blurs and this time I recognize what's happening, so I try to fight it. I manage long enough to text Garnier to invite him to hang out with us at band practice but I haven't even finished pressing send yet when I'm suddenly in Esfahan. Garnier is there too. His dress is strange, like he is wearing a costume from those Victorian movies. My own robe looks like those traditional village costumes people wear for Nowruz pageants, so maybe I shouldn't judge.

 Garnier's eyes are soft when he looks at me. Softer than I remember them. Though another part of me tells me that Garnier has always looked at us with such soft eyes. That we are the hard ones. We are the one who could not let his love save our frozen heart.

His love? Garnier loves a part of me. At least he used to. Over three hundred years ago. What is he? What am I? That voice that is me but isn't me knows what I am, but I can't quite reach that knowledge and I'm scared. What if I somehow release that other personality and she takes over. What if I stop existing? I'm already less myself and more her. I turn away from Garnier in this memory. I turn away but not before I see the disappointment in his eyes. There is someone else I need to find. Someone who has been my rival since I first became what I am now, maybe before. Actually, I don't know if I love him or I hate him. But I have to find him. It's a mistake. I know this, but the girl in my memory didn't know.

I find him in a secluded corner of the courtyard. He's speaking with someone. A creature of smokeless fire. I rub the goosebumps on my arms. A Jinni. It can't see me yet, so I back away. I owe them. They know it. I will never be free of my debt.

Ramtin plays nice with them. He does what they ask. But I can't. I quit playing those games a long time ago. It's why I'm barely hanging on to my court positions these days. It's why I had to collaborate with Ramtin. But as long as I'm in league with Ramtin, I can't be free of the Jinn. He will never give up the power he gets through them. I need to leave him.

I try to find Garnier but he's left for his next stop along his journey. I knew he would leave soon. Yet, I'm devastated.

Siavash leads me through the back of Amir-Reza's father's restaurant and down a set of stairs to the rough space where band practice is held. This area is not as glamorous as Davood's studio, but it's cozy. Eggs cartons painted a glossy black provide the sound insulation and a funky modern vibe to the space. Instead of the habitual Persian carpets, a sleek, though cheap-looking, floating laminate floor covers the ground. A worn and damaged leather loveseat is tucked in a corner, while a few random cushions litter the floor space around it. Some knee-high wooden crates hold a glass top to form a sort of coffee table on which sits an ashtray, a hookah, and some English books and magazines.

In the corner opposite the furniture are the instruments. I walk towards them and examine them. They are well used, and mid-range quality. These kids try hard to appear posh, and from a distance they pull it off, but everything here is a little worn, and most-likely obtained second-hand. I take a second look at the instruments. There is no harp. Was I supposed to bring my own?

"No harp?"

"Oh, Davood said he would bring the one from the studio, but he's late. Actually Roxana was supposed to be here by now too."

Just then some grunts resonate from the narrow stairs and Davood and Garnier appear in the doorway carrying a harp. Not the one from the studio, but the one from the store. It's been repaired, though it's still a little worse for wear.

They place it by the other instruments and stand around awkwardly. When I look at the harp, the ground around me spins a little. This harp and her sister play center stage in the weird issues I'm having. I turn away from it and kneel down to examine a canvas leaning against the wall. The artwork is amazing. A combination of mosaic tiles, ink and paint. A woman is the main subject. And though at first glance she appears to be painted in a style that reminds me of traditional miniatures, she is full size, and her make-up and the somber colors of her clothing are modern. But it's not what grabs my attention.

It's me. Playing the harp. I stand up and back away from the piece, and nearly knock down Amir-Reza who was just coming in with platters of steaming saffron rice with barberry and boiled chicken. The ever present smell of saffron and turmeric that already wafted in from the above restaurant amplifies and grounds me in reality. No visions for me this time. For now.

"She looks like you, doesn't she?" he says as he puts the plates down on the coffee table. "Roxana said it was a sign that we met you the day after we got this piece of artwork from the restaurant."

"From the restaurant?"

"One of my father's regular patrons gave it to him and said it was for me. People give things to my father a lot, but nothing this beautiful before. He said the girl belonged in my band. My father was shocked since he didn't think this customer knew I had a band. Anyway, we decided he must have meant to be in this space. See, Roxana and Siavash helped decorate this space for my father to use for special events. In return, we get to use it whenever it isn't booked."

My heart sinks. "So this is why you wanted me in your band?"

"Davood didn't know about the painting. He wanted you because he thought you had talent. We agreed with him so fast even though we know nothing about you because of the painting."

"Where is Roxana, anyway?" Garnier asks.

I'd forgotten he was here. Since when do I forget the presence of cute rich boys? Leyli would be so disappointed in me. I miss Leyli. Like real heart-tightening miss her. I never realized how much I relied on her and how alone I would be without her. Even surrounded by people, I am alone without her.

"She's not answering her phone," says Amir-Reza between spoonfuls of rice. He's the only one already eating. The rest of us are standing around awkwardly.

"I guess we can practice without vocals," Siavash says.

"No, we need to get the timing right with the vocals."

The boys are both tense and Garnier and I share a look. I guess I'm not completely alone. Garnier is here and I know him well inside my heart. Though that scares me as much as anything.

Just the fact I'm casually considering the idea of him being some sort of ageless creature is absurd. But I have to admit, I'm comfortable with it. More or less.

"Maybe Nakissa can help," he says.

"Me? How?"

"You can sing the songs."

"I'm not the singing type."

Garnier shrugs. "I think you are. But, even if I'm wrong, it doesn't matter. You can sing now just to help out."

"Yeah Nakissa. You're the only girl here and the songs were definitely written in a female perspective," Farhad says.

"Hey, if anyone other than Nakissa could pull off a female perspective, it would be you, Farhad."

The boys all start teasing each other but I don't participate. I didn't realize I'm the only girl here until they pointed it out. So what I'm the only girl in a room full of boys? It's about the music, not anything else.

It's about the music, and I feel like singing. "I'll do it."

They shrug and Farhad goes off to find me the music sheets with the lyrics. I press my lips together. It's not like I expected them to sing my praises for agreeing to sing, but they could have been more grateful.

People used to be very grateful to be allowed to hear me play. I sit in front of the harp and wait for the strange visions to come over me, but they don't. What I'm feeling isn't overwhelming. Just a vague memory from a long time ago. I used to play for kings. I was beloved at court, powerful in my own way. Now who am I? I don't even know if I'm an ageless immortal musician or simply a teenage girl with issues. I stroke the harp's strings. Whoever I am, I belong here.

The boys give me a few minutes to go over the lyrics but I don't know what to do with them. How can I just sing a song I've never really paid attention to before? Each time Roxana sang, I'd been already lost in my weird visions. This time, it won't be an honor to hear me. Maybe I should refuse. We can practice without singing.

But I catch the way Garnier looks at me. He believes in me. There is not a doubt in his mind because he knows I can sing. He's had the honor of hearing me before. I've disappointed him before and I won't do it now.

"I'm ready." I'm anything but.

The others take their places and Davood excuses himself while Garnier grabs a plate of food and settles down on the couch. This is it. I look at the music sheet again. I know how to read this. I make a few calculations and mental adjustments to the music in front of me. Farhad starts the beat on the drums, and I begin plucking the melody on the strings of the harp for a several seconds before Amir-Reza and Siavash follow us with the guitar and bass.

The mood of the music seizes me and I start chanting softly. The sound is ancient and tribal. It seems to infuse the room with energy and the boys pick up the tempo. I begin to sing the lyric in front of me. I know exactly how to reach all the right notes, though I change some of them, improvising as I go, making the music a part of me. And now the lyrics aren't about Roxana or Farhad or whoever it is that wrote them, they're about me. About my life.

When the song dies down with melancholy and sadness, it's like something important has gone. We are silent for a moment.

"Wow, I guess Roxana is kind of useless now," Amir-Reza says.

I open my mouth to say something but then I see her. Roxana's standing in the doorway, large mascara streaks down her cheeks from the tears. She turns away and runs out of the room. Farhad is the first to detangle himself from his instrument and runs after her. We return to inaction. I feel sick. I saw the look on her face. I know it all too well.

I remember another time of my life, no not my life, the one that is trying to take over me. It's a look she'd seen often before. One she had even come to enjoy seeing. I took away from her the only thing she had left. I took away her music. I made it better. I erased her from it and made it all mine. I searched my consciousness for pleasure, but I found none. I'm not happy to have hurt Roxana. I'm not like the other girl inside me.

Garnier steps in front of me and I fight the tidal waves of emotions. I try to separate my feelings from hers but it's not exactly clear what's hers and what's mine. Garnier is hers. I know that. She screwed it up somehow but he's hers. So everything I'm feeling is not actually me, is it?

"Are you okay?" The concern in his voice makes my heart skip a beat. My heart. Not hers.

"I... I don't know."

"Roxana had it coming to her." Amir-Reza brushes his long boy-band bangs out of his eyes. "She's messed up."

"You don't know anything about Roxana's problems," Siavash says.

"You mean like her trying to figure out if she should sleep with you or Farhad or anyone else who'll give her a roof over her head and money for drugs?"

"You don't understand what it was like for her at home."

From Siavash's tone, it's apparent that he knows exactly what it was like. He either knows Roxana very well or he can relate. I look at my band mates – my new friends – and I wonder what I got myself into. Can I really handle that fast-paced party life and keep sane. I'm having a hard enough time staying myself.

She looked so lost. Still sitting in front of her harp, her eyes even wider than usual, she watched the boys argue about Roxana. I wondered what she was thinking. What she was feeling. She was so much like her but so different too. Sweeter. More innocent. I didn't think I liked that. What use did I have for innocence? But Nagissa had hurt me, deeper than I'd realized.

I couldn't think of this girl in front of me as completely separate from Nagissa either. The more I got to know this girl, the more it seemed she was the same person somehow. As if she'd been reborn and her environment had made her different. I stood stock still. Was this possible? Were Gargoyles reborn after they died? Was I bound to meet Vincent again too? Would it still be Vincent if he was born a new person?

"Garnier?"

Her voice was the most different. Quiet. Scared. Nagissa would never have sounded scared. She was too important. I didn't understand the urge I felt to protect her.

"Yes?"

"I didn't mean to take Roxana's place. I really loved singing, but I don't want to hurt her."

"I know. Don't worry. The others will figure it out. Roxana has some problems she needs to work on, but I think she'll be okay. Maybe you two will be able to work together."

The money I'd given her would allow her to turn her life around. Maybe this little scene would also be a wakeup call for her. Everything would be alright and my Nakissa would smile and tease and do all the things that attracted me so much.

It really was Nakissa I was attracted to. Her innocence was disarming, but her wit and playfulness was what I was starting to love about her. All the things that made her different from Nagissa.

She stood up and walked up to me. Her pupils were large, even for this low light. She tilted her head and pressed her lips together. "I haven't seen you since Esfahan. What are you doing here?"

The inquiring gaze. The strong, commanding tone. This was Nagissa.

"I came looking for you, actually," I said quietly.

"You came back for me?"

"I need your help with Ramtin."

She clenched her fists. "He killed me."

My phone rang. I dug it out of my pocket to turn the ringer off. I finally was getting the answers I wanted. But then I saw it was a local number and curiosity got the best of me.

I swiped my finger across the touch screen to answer the phone but didn't say anything.

"Garnier? Is that you?" Aude's voice sounded on the other end. "Garnier I need your help."

"Aude?"

"I stole Ramtin's phone, but one of his witches is bound to come find me any minute now. They took me, Garnier. You need to get Guillaume to come. I can't do it on my own." Aude may have learned to ask for help from Guillaume, but she still couldn't stand the fact to be dependent on anyone else.

"Where are you?"

"I don't know. It's a nice place. Luxurious. I think it's a house but I'm not even sure. They won't tell me anything. The only reason I know I'm in Iran is because of all the research you did before coming here. You were right to come here. Garnier, get the others please?"

"Yes, of course, but where can we find you?"

"I don't know. Oh, I have to go. Tell Guillaume I love him!"

The call disconnected. When I looked up to Nagissa, it was obvious she'd gone. Nakissa stood with her arms crossed over herself.

"What's happening? I'm scared."

I looked at her hard. "I'm scared too."

I wrapped my arms around her and held her close to me. It wasn't until she stopped shaking and I stepped away from her that I realized that Amir-Reza and Siavash had long stopped fighting and were staring at us.

I'm alone. For a moment he held me, but now I'm alone again. It's not even me he wants. He doesn't know that I heard what he said when she took over me. But he's been looking for  _her_. It's probably the reason he's even here in Iran. I'm just the convenient body that she's trying to steal. The convenient body that's foolishly falling for him. I don't even know what he is. He's related to the Jinn, somehow. Yet, I don't think he's one of them.

I'm also dying to know who Aude is and what she means to him. He's probably a complete player. I'm dealing with enough crap with Ehsan; I don't need Garnier playing me on top of it. No, what I need is to figure out where things lie between me and my boyfriend (or is that ex-boyfriend?) and see if I can fix it. He was so into me. There should be no reason I can't fix it. I just need to act cool and casual.

Farhad comes back and glares at Amir-Reza. "She's gone. I couldn't find her. Dude, I can't believe you said that."

"I didn't know she was there!"

"We're not replacing Roxana." He turns to me. "You're just helping us out tonight. Understand?"

I swallow the lump in my throat and nod. I'm not trying to cause any problems. I'm not even sure what I'm doing with this crowd. I'm in over my head and I never asked for any of this. Everyone has a plan for me and no one seems to care what I want. But I want this don't I? I think I do.

I look to Garnier for comfort, but he seems to be having an intense conversation on the phone. Probably about Aude, whoever she is.

"Let's push through the rest of the playlist and then we can kick back with some beer, okay guys?" Amir-Reza seems to be the peace-keeper of the group.

Push through it is exactly what we do. It's like a magical spell has been broken, and though my voice and my playing are perfect still, and I know how to hit all the right notes, there's something missing that we had in the first song. I don't know if it's my resolve to keep that other personality at bay, or my decision to ignore Garnier and make things work with Ehsan, but I feel more grounded now. Also duller.

Ehsan used to make me feel alive before I got involved with this supernatural stuff. I check my phone, but not only do I have no missed messages from him, I also come to realize it's getting late. After the Leyli incident, Maman was very uneasy about allowing me to come here in the first place. I need to get home.

The boys haven't even left their instruments yet when I excuse myself.

"Wait." Garnier walks with me to the door. "I'll drive you."

"I'm okay."

"You're worried about being late, let me drive you."

"It's better if I don't ride in a car with a boy."

He raises his eyebrows at me. "You rode in a car with me for almost two hours and now you're worried about it? What's going on?"

I point my finger to his chest and lower my voice. "Listen, I don't know what you are or what's going on. I never believed in Jinn before, but it's obvious they are involved somehow and I really don't want to have anything to do with them. I just want my life to be easy like it was before you showed up."

"Was it?"

"What?"

"Was it easy before?"

I look for sarcasm but I don't hear any in his voice and his face is genuinely inquisitive. "I... I guess things got complicated a little before."

"When?" He puts his hand on my wrist in such a casual way. Like he's a girl or we are family or something. He's by far the first guy to touch me like this, but normally it's done with defiance. As a statement. Never so casually.

"Please let me drive you. We can discuss it in the car."

He's as confused as I am. The only difference is that he's not afraid of the answers. Maybe I shouldn't be afraid either.

"Okay."

We excuse ourselves from the others and make our way through the restaurant's kitchen and out of the back door. I'm alone in an alleyway with a supernatural creature. I should be scared.

He lets me drive. Ehsan says he's the man and so he should be the one driving but I didn't even have to ask Garnier, he suggested it. Even made jokes about how he hates driving in Tehran. It's cute.

We got in the car together to talk, but haven't actually said anything yet. There are so many questions, but where would I begin?

"Things got complicated with the earthquakes," I blurt out. It's one way to start a conversation. And as curious as I am about him, I realize how much I need to just talk about myself. To let out all the nonsense craziness I can't talk about to anyone else. I tell him about Maman's accident, and about my increased responsibilities. I tell him about the music I heard from Davood's store. I tell him about the harp.

He looks at me carefully then. Of course, the harp is Nagissa's specialty. I have to remember that's the only reason he's here with me. He wants Nagissa to come back. Is he tricking me into letting my guard down? I need to shift the conversation back to him.

"Who is Aude?" It's the easier thing to ask. It's a normal question allowing for a normal answer. Nothing supernatural, just a girl.

"She's my brother's girlfriend. She's in Iran right now and she's in trouble."

He has a brother? And his brother's girlfriend is here? Why? "And your brother is where?"

"I was just talking to him while you were practicing. The family is in Montreal but they're making arrangements to travel here as soon as possible. We have to find Aude and I'm pretty sure Ramtin has her."

I shiver. "I don't like him."

"I know." He reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. I don't pull away right away. I like his touch.

My other consciousness has information about Ramtin but I don't let her through. Nothing she has to say can be worth losing myself over. I have information about Ramtin as well. The thought catches me by surprise. Leyli. How could I have not been thinking about Leyli every second of the day? Maybe she made her choice to be with Ramtin, or maybe she, like Aude, is in trouble.

"Do you think Aude is in danger? How did she end up with Ramtin? Is she a groupie too? What happens to girls who disappear with Ramtin?" My hands are clenched tight around the steering wheel and I jerk aggressively to avoid traffic.

"We aren't sure how Aude disappeared. Ramtin should have been here when she went missing from Montreal. I don't know what he wants... Something to do with what she is."

Why is he looking at me like this? Like there is something wrong with me. I slam the brake to narrowly avoid hitting a motorcycle. "What is she?"

"Hey, are you all right?"

"No, not really. What is she?"

"She's an essencialist. Basically, she can handle life energy."

I free one arm from the steering wheel to rub the other. It's suddenly cold in here. The shivers crawl up my arms, along my shoulders and come sliding down along my spinal cord. No one should be able to control life energy, whatever that means. Again, the other consciousness tries to fit her way to the forefront, but I don't let her. I have control now.

"So your brother's girlfriend is a Jinni?"

"No, not at all. The Jinn are made of pure essence. Pure energy. Smokeless fire, they say. But everything alive has a measure of life energy. An essencialist is someone who has a much larger amount of energy and can control it."

"Control how?" I'm avoiding the obvious question: What is he?

"She can share it."

Is this what he is? I can't get the words out to ask him. Why can't he just tell me?

A text message comes in so I grab the phone from my pocket and check it while still keeping an eye on the road.

"You know that's illegal where I come from." I barely hear him.

I barely see the road in front of me. All I can see is the text. Those three words from Amir-Reza:

"Roxana is dead."

The growing silence and quietude of the mountains suited our mood. Nakissa's suggestion that we come here this evening made sense. Neither of us were in any mood for conversation after we found out about Roxana last night, and we had needed time to digest everything. But time was of the essence and now we had to talk. There was something about the isolation of the mountains that made me feel like we could be ourselves here.

The crowds of people thinned as we hiked up the trails past Darband. Most were happy to simply enjoy the nice weather perusing the shops and restaurants at the foot of the mountain. But what we needed was solitude.

We didn't speak much as we made our ascent. We each had our own guilt about Roxana's death and though I wished I could comfort her, I wasn't quite ready to come to terms with the part I'd played in the tragedy.

If only I hadn't given her that money, she wouldn't have been able to run to her dealer the second she felt upset and buy enough drugs to kill herself. We weren't sure if she'd committed suicide or if it had been an accidental overdose. Either way, Nakissa blamed herself because Roxana had been so upset to see her sing for Farâsoo. I knew it was illogical to look at it that way. I knew the decision had been hers and not ours, but I understood how Nakissa felt, because I felt it too.

I stumbled on some lose rocks and held on the old rickety broken railings. This was a little bit less safe than I was used to. Normally my sense of adventure would have awoken by now, but I was tired of it. I just wanted to lay low. I wanted to go to parties for the sake of partying instead of chasing down a star who may be trying to end the world. I wanted to flirt with a cute girl instead of investigating her for what she has to do with an ancient Gargoyle who may or may not be dead. I wanted to dress well without worrying what supernatural encounter might ruin my clothes.

I continued to follow Nakissa as she climbed effortlessly. I was supposed to be the one with grace and agility. I needed to gather my wits. I just didn't feel like myself these days. The landscape didn't do much to lift my spirits either. Now that we had passed the bright and festive feel of the town, very little interrupted the brown on brown landscape. Even right now in mid March, Mont Royal in Montreal would be painted with more colors than just brown.

"We're here." Nakissa interrupted my bleakness by showing me to a ledge overlooking the city.

Even with the weight of her thoughts, Nakissa seemed looser in the mountains. Less stressed. Her stride had been long and confident. Not like Nagissa's, though. There were as many differences as there were similarities between the two.  But I couldn't exactly see them as two different people. Nakissa kept her heart open while Nagissa held hers closed, and yet, almost contradictorily, Nakissa lacked the confidence she used to have as Nagissa. She was vibrant, lively. She wore her scarf loosely over her head, so it was barely there. She was a vivid contrast against the hard landscape. Only her mood was somber.

I took in the view. From horizon to horizon, the city was all we could see. From this vantage, it shared little of its charms. It was more like a monster stretching itself along the land. Once spring fully bloomed, its abundant green spaces would dot the landscape and call its people to the many parks and gardens for picnics and relaxation. For the time being what little green we saw just teased us with its promise of life.

She sat on the ledge and I joined her. We let our feet dangle and said nothing for several moments.

"Who is Nagissa?" she asked. "Why is she trying to take over me?"

I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. We had been skirting around the issues for so long. At first, I didn't know what she was and if I could trust her. After that, it just seemed difficult to bring up. I didn't know what she knew. Where did I start? At least now I had a question to answer. And I had a theory.

"I don't think she is trying to take over you. I think you are one and the same person."

She shook her head.

"Hear me out?" I took her hand in mine. It was cold, but warmed quickly. "You and Nagissa are so similar; it is more just than your names. I think you are Nagissa reborn somehow. I never put stock in the concept of multiple lives or anything like that, but then maybe it isn't impossible. If our essence is our soul, then maybe it is possible to transfer it somehow. Maybe Nagissa found a way to transfer her essence to you before she died. Do you know how she died?"

"She was executed during the revolution." She furrowed her brows. "How did I know that?"

"Because you are her."

"I feel like she just wants to take me over."

What if she was right? What if by encouraging Nagissa to surface, I was killing Nakissa? Could I choose which lived and which died?

She shifted her posture, but didn't take her eyes from the vista ahead of us. "Well, your theory doesn't even work. I wasn't alive when Nagissa died, how could she have transferred whatever to me?"

"I haven't figured out that part of it yet. But there is a lot that my kind doesn't understand about essence."

She hugged her arms tightly against herself. "That's not very comforting."

It didn't exactly make sense, but at the same time I knew it was the only answer. As soon as I'd said it, I'd known it to be the truth. Nakissa was Nagissa reborn. The differences were accounted by her environment. She'd been raised differently; of course she would be different. Her old memories were re-surfacing and this was causing conflict in her. But it wasn't someone else she was fighting. It was herself. A version of herself that seemed separate because she compartmentalized it and refused to accept it. It wasn't only me who needed to talk to Nagissa, Nakissa did as well.

I needed to draw her out and hope I wasn't wrong. Hope I wouldn't lose Nakissa, because if truth be told, I liked her a lot better than her counterpart.

"Do you know the details of her death?"

She shook her head.

"Are you sure?"

She looked at her feet, she looked at the clouds. She looked at a couple of other climbers that walked on, looking for their own semi-secluded spot. She looked everywhere except at me.

"She knows," she whispered.

"That means you know."

"No." She shook her head. "I don't. I can't let her tell me."

"Yes, you can. She doesn't mean you any harm."

"She wants to be me."

"You are her."

"No, I'm not." She took a few breaths and pivoted to face me. "Listen, Garnier, even if you're right, how can you say that my experiences and memories are not what makes me who I am? How can you be sure that by embracing these centuries of memories, my personality won't change? Centuries. There are centuries of memories. How can it be? What was she?"

"Nakissa was a Gargoyle."

"A Gargoyle?"

I nodded. "Like I am."

She moved away from me a few inches. "What is a Gargoyle, exactly?"

"Do you want the proper definition of the word or just want to know what I am?" I grinned at her.

Her face didn't change. Her eyes were wide. Her lips set tight. She was frightened but determined. I didn't know how to tell her. Suddenly, it seemed ridiculous to be a man who can transform into a beast or a statue of that beast. It was more than just hard to believe, it was absurd. If she wasn't scared away, then she would laugh at me. Is this how Guillaume felt when he revealed himself to Aude? My heart warmed at the thought of them. Aude had accepted him with a sense of wonder.

I decided then, that I wouldn't show myself to her. I'd explain it and she would either understand or she wouldn't. No reason to leave myself vulnerable.

"I used to be a human like you. When I was eighteen, I agreed to protect a family. A family that was rumored to have magical powers. They were what people referred to as witches. Essencialists. They created me by killing one of their own."

"You killed one of them?"

"No, she sacrificed herself. It's considered a good investment. One mortal life to make an immortal one that will go on to protect the family."

"So someone died and now you live forever?"

"Well, more or less. I mean there are other things about it too." Like the fact that without essence fed to me, I turned into a statue permanently. Or the fact that I had a beast form. But she didn't ask so I didn't tell her. Maybe it was best for her to understand the truth gradually.

"So Nagissa was immortal like you..."

"Sort of like me, but she was made by sacrificing a Jinni instead."

"Wow."

"Yes, in theory, it made her very powerful."

"So I have that power?"

I shook my head.

"Oh. Ramtin? Is he one like you?"

"He is one like Nagissa was."

"He has my best friend...Leyli."

My heart sank. "What? She's still with him?"

"We fought when she went with him."

"I remember."

"I knew she was making a mistake. But she was acting so immature about... I don't know? Me ditching the party? Ramtin wanting to hear me play? I didn't even know what she was mad about, so I just left it alone."

"I did too." I hadn't even thought of asking after her. I knew how dangerous Ramtin was and that the last time I had heard of the girl she had been with him. Yet, I had been so pre-occupied with everything else, I hadn't even given her a second thought. Not even when I had tried to call her and couldn't reach her. I put my head in my hands. I wasn't a hero.

"I thought Leyli should make her own mistakes, you know?"

I nodded.

"She texted me a few days ago. It was short, but I just thought she was mad at me. But since I heard about Aude, I keep wondering if she's really okay. Do you think she is?"

"Yes, I think that for now both she and Aude are okay. He has a purpose. Does Leyli have supernatural powers?"

She laughed without humor. "Until recently, I would have said no. Now, how could I tell?" She furrowed her brows. "Well I don't know if this has anything to do with it, but she does have a knack for telling fortunes."

I shrugged. It could mean something, or nothing at all. It wasn't always easy to recognize some of those creatures.

"Can you tell me how Nagissa died?" I asked again.

I didn't know if it was because I caught her by surprise with the question, but this time, she answered.

"Ramtin. He was there. He was a guard when she was executed. She was shot, but she died before that. I don't really understand... "

"When did Nagissa become a Gargoyle?"

"It was in the Sassanid dynasty, when she was a court musician for King Khosro II."

If I didn't give her time to think of anything but Nagissa, she couldn't block her. "Where was Nagissa born?"

"Cteciphon. It was the capital at the time."

"How did Nagissa become a Gargoyle?"

"It was Ramtin's fault. We were in competition as the favored court musician. I was better than him, so he felt threatened by me. He made a deal with the Jinn. They turned him into a different creature... Still the same in essence, but with a body of stone. Changeable. I didn't know what he was then. Just that the Jinn had made him like that. I approached them I asked to be made one of them, and I was."

It had worked. I was now talking to Nagissa.

I'm with Garnier again. After he'd left, I never thought I would get another chance with him, but here we are together again and there are even more obstacles between us than before.

"I need your help, Nagissa."

How I love to hear my name on his lips. I love hearing he needs me, even if it's just to vanquish Ramtin. Maybe especially if it is to vanquish Ramtin.

"You need me to fight Ramtin."

He pulls out a locket from his pocket and shows it to me. I gasp. It is an antique. A miniature painted of me. It had been given to me at court. I reach for it, and then pull away. There's something ancient and powerful about it. I'm not stupid enough to touch it until I know what that is. "Where did you get it?"

"A Jinni gave it to me."

Doesn't he know how dangerous it is to deal with the Jinn? What is he trying to prove? Why does he need to get to Ramtin so badly? The answers are here. Nakissa has them but even now, I'm fighting myself.

When I transferred my essence to that woman, waiting for her to be ready to carry a child, I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't know it would even work... and I certainly didn't know my memories would remain dormant until my host became too stressed to hold them back.

"He has..." I pull at the memories, but she's resisting me. I'm resisting. I take a deep breath. I am not just Nagissa, I am also Nakissa. I'm not afraid of her. She is me. She can't do anything to me. I just need to give her a little control.  "...a friend of yours. Aude. And a friend of Nakissa's. But there's more isn't there?"

"You have trouble with Nakissa's memories. Just like she has with yours. Are you two different people then?"

"Not exactly. It's complicated and I'm not even sure I understand it myself. She... well, I've created a sort of barrier. It doesn't matter right now, tell me about Ramtin?"

Garnier explains the events that transpired in Montreal. He tells me about Aude's part in it, and Ramtin's involvement.

In a way, it doesn't surprise me that Ramtin still thirsts for power. What surprises me is that I don't at all anymore.

"If I was still a Gargoyle, I might be able to take him on. I was very powerful, myself. We always matched each other. Followed each other and competed together. What power he had, I had. But not now. Now, I'm not much more than human. I was weak when I transferred my essence. Maybe I could have made a witch, otherwise. I don't know how that works." I sigh. "The Jinn would know more about this."

"The Jinn wanted me to find you."

What did the Jinn want from me? The sound of loose rubble interrupts my thoughts. I turn and expect to see a couple of hikers, but instead I'm faced with something I thought didn't exist anymore. A brand new stone monster. Someone sacrificed the essence of a witch or a Jinni.

Nagissa crouched and clenched her fists but she didn't change. She couldn't change. She was human and I had to protect her now. I took half a moment to be grateful that I had a set of spare clothing in my car before I grabbed hold of my essence and released it until my muscles tightened in that familiar way.

I jumped between Nagissa and the stone creature. It lunged for me and I attacked back. It was slow. Young and inexperienced. This creature had only recently been made. It was safe to assume that Ramtin was the one creating them. I remembered how he had both Aude and Leyli captive. Was one of them sacrificed to make this creature? I felt sick. I backed away two paces. This made the creature confident and it came for me again. But this time I let my anger coil inside me and released it, pounding myself into its stone armor.

I needed Aude. Fighting a stone monster without a witch to drain essence was a lengthy and painful process. I could keep Nagissa safe. Protecting was what I had been created for. But I didn't know if I'd be able to do much more.

The creature was uncertain though and losing ground. Each time we collided, it backed a few paces. My shoulders ached from the constant impact but I continued. He now was a safe distance from Nagissa.

'Run!' I screamed at her with the mind voice I used with my family. But she wasn't a de Rouen. She didn't hear. She stood there. Still crouched. Infinitely beautiful. The impact jarred me. I'd let myself get distracted. I couldn't do that. I picked myself back up and went after him again. I remembered what Aude told me. How she would catch a snag of essence from these creatures and unravel it until they were nothing but dust.

Hadn't the Jinn implied I could do this as well? I looked really hard at the creature and stepped towards it. I couldn't see the essence. How would I be able to grab it if I couldn't see it? The creature knocked me to the ground again and Nagissa let out a high pitched scream. Was she in trouble? I saw a flash of blue. The creature's essence. I reached for it, but it was too slippery. I didn't unravel it, I didn't even tug, but I must have done something. The creature didn't stick around. I wasn't even off the ground by the time it ran off.

I looked behind me to see what was wrong with Nagissa, but she seemed fine. Frightened but fine. I got ready to leap after the creature but she called back to me.

"No Garnier! You're hurt!"

My head low, I walked back towards her. She made hushing sound and ran her warm hands against my cold monster flesh.

"You saved me," she said.

I wanted to change to my human form so I could answer her, but my clothes were in the trunk of my car. Would I have to once again risk being found nude in Iran?

I heard footsteps again. Light ones, like two travelers walking towards us on the trails. I dashed behind a large boulder. Hidden there, I changed into my human form.

I called to Nagissa and explained to her where to get my clothing. As she began to make her way down the trail, I saw a group of hikers – all girls – come around from another trail I hadn't noticed. A trail that took them right in front of me. They spotted me before I had a chance to go anywhere.

"Pervert!" One girl threw a stone at me.

"Hurry up Nagissa!" I shouted to her disappearing figure.

I ran away from the girls and skidded along the exposed mountainside until I finally found a bush to hide behind. Hopefully Nagissa would come back with my clothing before the shocked and angry girls came back with the police.

I was grateful for the clothing Nagissa had brought me. Until I had come here, I had taken clothing for granted. It wasn't that I walked around naked in Montreal. I would have been arrested there too, but somehow I didn't get myself in these situations back home.

We were back on the cliff overlooking Tehran, Nagissa tended to my wounds and I couldn't shake how different she was from the Nagissa I knew. How similar she was to the Nakissa I had come to love. They were the same person. But Nakissa was dominant and she was scared of Nagissa. Once she came to, it would be difficult to make her understand that Nagissa didn't mean to take anything from her. In fact, I wasn't entirely sure about Nagissa's intentions myself.

"Why are you so sad?" she asked.

"Sad? I've been called many things, but I've never been called sad before."

"You are different, you know?"

I nodded. "We all are. We can't stay still. We have to change."

"I stayed still. For centuries I stayed the same. Never working on improving anything but my competition with Ramtin."

"And now?"

"Of course I'm different. I'm mortal. I've lived a normal life for sixteen years, and though those years don't feel like they belong to me, they do. They are more "me" than this. Do you understand?"

"I think so. But I'm not sad. Sad is what Guillaume does. I'm the carefree one." I had centuries of experience. Of course there were sad ones. Vincent's face came to mind and I swallowed a lump in my throat. Just the most recent loss, in a long history of losing people. But I did what I could to move on past his death. To focus on the positive.

What if I lost Aude? Would I be able to get over it so easily?

"How can you help me save my friend and stop Ramtin?"

"I can't. I don't know why the Jinn sent you to me. I'm just a mortal, now. A mortal with immortal memories."

"If that's true, then maybe it's your memories I need. Maybe you have a secret weapon in there." I pointed to her forehead.

She tilted her head. "The Jinn can't fight Ramtin. But what about another creature like him. Maybe there is someone else out there."

"If there was someone else, why would they send me to find you?"

"Who knows why the Jinn do what they do?"

I didn't buy it. There was something important about Nagissa. I was led to her for a reason.

We watched the sun set in silence. She rubbed her arms from the cold but I didn't put my arms around her. In fact, I missed Nakissa. I hoped she wasn't gone forever.

I pry my eyes open and check the time on my phone. My movements cause the room to spin. It's already early afternoon. I drop the phone beside me and lay back to stare at the ceiling.

What happened to me?

My memories are jumbled up. Did I party last night? I remember hiking with Garnier. Things are foggy. He turned into a stone creature. Or did I dream that? Nagissa knows. Nagissa had taken over me. She's winning. I can't just lay here. I have to do something. Find a way to fight her. I can trust that Garnier is not in league with Ramtin, but he does want to draw out Nagissa. He's interested in her not me. They have history.

If I know what is best for me, I'll avoid him. But who do I have left? Leyli is still missing and I'm scared for her. Ehsan has lost interest in me. I don't think he's even my boyfriend anymore. And now I can't trust Garnier.

Am I really alone?

An argument erupts from the hallway.

"You need to get out sometimes. You can't spend your whole life in that filth doing nothing but playing video games!"

"What should I be doing then?" Ebi yells.

Since when is Ebi so defiant? I don't remember the last time I paid any attention to anything happening inside my family. Maybe it's time I start.

I stand up and my stomach flips over. I rush to the bathroom to empty my stomach's contents. I feel a little better after the purge, but I'm a little unsure on my feet. I throw water on my face and brush my teeth. I look long and hard in the mirror. No matter the subtle differences I see, I'm still me. I tidy my hair and apply some light makeup.

When I exit the bathroom, I feel a little more human. Thirsty, but human. In the kitchen, I run into Maman.

"Where did you go last night?" She shakes her head. "You know better than to stay out so late. What is going on with you?"

How could I even start answering her?

_Well, Maman, I have an ancient Gargoyle made from the sacrifice of a Jinni living in my head and trying to take me over. My boyfriend ditched me, but that's okay since I'm falling for someone else. Don't let his age or the fact that he's a foreigner concern you, he's very nice. For a supernatural creature._

I blink in the harsh light.

"You're staying in today. I don't even know who you hang out with, anymore, since poor Leyli is gone. Bless her soul." She bites the skin between her thumb and forefinger like I see the old women do to ward off the evil eye or something. "Your family needs you."

"Exactly. Ebi needs me. He needs to get out of the house and I was going to bring him to the arcade."

"More video games is not what he needs."

"It gets him out, Maman."

"Why are you suddenly concerned about him?"

 I shrug. What can I tell her? I don't even know why I'm doing this. Maybe he's my excuse to leave the house... or maybe there's more to it. Maybe I just don't want to feel so alone.

Maman watches me. I don't know what she's looking for, scrutinizing my features like she is, but whatever it is, she finds it. She smiles.

"Okay, Nakissa. You can take Ebi out, but be home before supper time. No excuses."

"Of course, Maman."

She calls Ebi over and I'm surprised by the defiant lilt to his voice. By the hard look in his eyes. He seems like a different child than he was only a few days back when I'd walked him to school.

The excitement I expect from him doesn't come. He's indifferent. I can be indifferent too. I'm only doing this so I'm not stuck in the house.

Ebi's untucked wrinkled off-white dress shirt is buttoned all the way to the collar. I'm embarrassed to be seen with him. He looks like a thug. Like those kids that had harassed him for dressing too nice.

I try to talk to him on the way to the arcade, but he answers me in grunts and nods. And as soon as we're inside the large multi-story complex, he takes off for one of the shooter games and leaves me to wander the place alone. Instinctively, I make my way to the second floor where all the racing games – and hot boys – are. Leyli and I used to challenge them and got really competitive. She always said we had to prove to the boys that Tehrani girls are better drivers. But it's more about flirting than competing. I walk past the large illuminated stained glass pictures of race cars and scan the crowds looking for someone I know. But there is no one familiar.

I check my phone. With Leyli missing, my social life has become all but non-existent... I flick my finger over Ehsan's name and start typing.

"Would be nice if you would just let me know you don't want me anymore."

I let my finger hover over the send button for a while, but press delete. He's not worth my time. Obviously he doesn't want me anymore. His actions speak loud enough, and though my pride hurts, it's deeply wounded actually, I can't say I'm too sad.

I text Garnier instead and invite him to join me. I press send and immediately regret it. He doesn't want me either. He wants Nagissa. What if he tries to draw her out again? Am I strong enough to resist him?

Some shouting gets my attention and I turn to see Ebi with a group of other young boys. They all have the same unkempt uniform as if they are trying to look like low-class hooligans. Clearly none of those boys are that. This arcade is one of the most expensive places to hang out in Tehran. They are shouting at a couple of girls for wearing too much make-up and showing too much of their hair.

My heart sinks. No, not Ebi. He can't be one of them. I have to stop him, but I can't get involved in this drama. There's too much on my plate. I rub my thumb over my eyes to smudge the eyeliner off and rub the gloss from my lips. I rearrange my scarf to cover most of my hair and walk towards them.

"Ebi." My voice is stern but I don't order him. I need to play this crowd properly. They are such fools. I know Ebi will grow up to want to have nothing to do with these types. He's just lost right now. I should have realized it when I walked him to school and he was bullied. I should have been around to protect him. As good as our parents' intentions are, they are certain things we can only take care of ourselves.

I hate the situation that makes all of this necessary. But they can't bring me down. I know who I am and I know my worth. I know how to play the game. We all do. We all wear masks. We all play roles, and only once inside our own inner walls are we ever really ourselves. But sometimes I get so tired of playing.

Ebi looks at me with resentment in his eyes. But he walks towards me. Until one of his new friends stops him.

"Who is she to tell you what to do? Are you not a man?"

He closes his eyes slowly. Maybe he's trying to hide the hurt and fear and guilt, but I see it. He doesn't want to be that man. He would prefer being like his father. Bijan is intelligent and educated. Bijan is respectful and open-minded. I exhale. Bijan is difficult to live up to.

I lower my head. "Ebi, Bijan sent me."

His face opens up in surprise. He wasn't expecting me to play the role. He was expecting the defiance he'd seen before. He'd wanted it. He had been trying to provoke me. Why?

He excuses himself from the other boys and follows me.

"Did Baba call? What did he want?"

I shake my head. "No, Bijan didn't call. I thought these boys would not respect you if you listened to your sister, but it would be okay to listen to your father."

"Why do I want these idiots to respect me?" He spits on the ground.

I tug at his shirt collar. "Why are you dressed like them, then?"

He kicks a balled up flyer littering the ground. "I don't know. It just seems easier."

I nodded. "It is easier to fit in, in some ways."

"You have no idea. I heard you play my guitar. I know you go to parties and play for a band. I know you have a boyfriend. You fit in. You don't have to pretend to be someone else."

Ebi knows all of this about me, and yet, until today, I didn't even realize he hangs out with thugs. He thinks my life is easy. He thinks I'm cool.

"Ebi..." I don't know what to say. How can I tell him about my doubts and my problems? How can I tell him about the hole in my chest caused by Leyli's absence?

A tear comes down my cheek. Ebi frowns.

I take a deep breath to calm myself. "Hey, I'll race you!"

We run to the motorcycle racing game and jump on. "Be prepared to learn how Tehrani girls do it!" I shout to him what Leyli used to always shout when we played this game.

He laughs. The first genuine Ebi laugh I've heard all day. My heart feels lighter. I wonder briefly if Garnier answered my text, but I don't check my phone. I have a race to win and I'm having fun. Screw him and his supernatural problems. Screw Ehsan's inconsistent affections. A smile takes my lips over. The same radiant, contagious smile that had taken over Ebi. I nearly wipe out around a corner but recover and push against Ebi to get the lead. I lean way over to take a corner and push Ebi's bike out of the way. I laugh. He calls out obscenities to me. He nearly overtakes me again but the finish line is there and the word WINNER flashes on my screen.

"You just got lucky. I was about to pass you. I challenge you to another round."

"And I challenge both of you! Nakissa knows how good of a driver I am." Garnier's voice takes me by surprise. My heart beats faster. My mouth is dry. Why is he here? Other than the fact that I invited him, of course.

"You are the worst driver." I don't meet his eye.

Ebi happily shakes his hand. "Are you Ehsan? I'm Ebi, Nakissa's brother."

My face turns tomato red. "This is Garnier. How do you even know about Ehsan?"

"I read your text messages."

"What? That's private."

"So what happened to Ehsan? He seemed to really like you." I try not to laugh at the teasing in Ebi's voice. I should be mad. And I certainly shouldn't be encouraging him to invade my privacy. Any other time, I'd be pissed. But I'm high from the racing game, and Garnier is here and it makes me happy. Too happy.

"Ehsan lost interest. We're not together anymore." It's the first time I say it out loud since Leyli isn't around for me to talk these matters to death with. It really doesn't hurt. And it clicks. We really aren't together anymore. I look at Garnier.

There is an intense look on his face. Did I show my feelings too much? Does he know what I'm thinking?

"So about that challenge?" he laughs.

"Yes! I will beat both of you."

"You just try," Ebi exclaims.

We have three more races. Ebi wins one of them, but I win the other two. For someone who's been driving since the invention of the automobile, Garnier really isn't a good driver.

"What do we do now?" Ebi asks.

We play a few more games and even take a train ride meant for little kids. Garnier jokes around with Ebi and the two of them really hit it off. It's like we are a little family and the fantasy appeals to me more than I ever thought it could.

After the arcade, Ebi suggests we buy some kabobs and have a picnic in a park. We find a small store whose smell we can't bypass and we stock up on jujeh kabob, koobideh, charbroiled tomatoes, piles of steaming rice striped golden with saffron, and of course a few bottles of yogurt drink to wash it all down.

We spread our feast out on the grass in a nearby park. The air is fresh the way it only is around this time of year. It's warmer than usual today, and instead of worrying about global warming, I'm going to enjoy it for what it is. And we are far from being the only ones enjoying the day this way. All around us people are spending their New Year holiday with friends and family.

"This is our first Nowruz visit," I declare.

"We're not really visiting," Ebi argues.

"Doesn't matter. I decided this is how I want to start the holiday. This is who I want to start the holiday with."

"I think I feel the same way," Ebi said.

Garnier leans back and smiles. "I'm also having a perfect day."

We toast to a perfect day and Ebi quizzes Garnier about everything North America. Then, learning that Garnier has also lived in Europe, he quizzes him on everything European. When we have had enough laying around and talking, we find an ice cream shop. We walk along the streets of Tehran eating ice cream, pointing to things in store windows and speculating on the people we walk past.

We take the metro to the Grand Bazaar where we wander for hours seeing everything as if for the first time. From the merchant selling bright pink underwear imported from China to the old man tirelessly pounding beautiful designs into metal plates in the same manner his family has for generations.

The sun begins to set much too soon and we have to get home for dinner with the family. Ebi invites Garnier to join us, but I don't think it's a good idea.

"What would Maman and Bijan think?"

"That's okay. I should go back to my hotel to get ready. There's a party I need to go to." He pauses; looks at Ebi. "Our friends whom we miss so much may be there."

I nod. "Maybe I should go too."

"Maman won't allow it." Ebi says.

"He's right."

"But you can sneak out. I'll cover for you."

"You will?"

"Under one condition."

I raise my eyebrows at him.

"Okay two conditions. You need to tell me all about it and once I'm old enough, you have to take me along to one of these parties."

I mess up his hair. "Deal."

We say our goodbyes to Garnier. Ebi hugs him and tells him he wants to see him again and I remember how young my brother really is. The city is trying to force him to grow up so quickly. Some of us don't have a choice in our circumstances, but Ebi can be spared from that fate. I can protect him.

In the elevator we make our plans. I feel bad to be lying to our parents. I feel even worse that I'm dragging Ebi into it. But I don't have a choice. They just don't understand. I look at the boy grinning in the elevator next to me. He's holding a ball that Garnier bought for him, and I feel grateful towards Garnier. He brought me closer to my brother. And the best part of today is that there was not one time today that I felt he'd prefer to be hanging out with Nagissa. I smile back at Ebi.

Everything will be okay and it's all because of Garnier. Garnier who'll eventually leave us and return to his own country. My smile fades.

Ebi's distraction works perfectly and I'm out of the house and into Garnier's car before I even have a chance to worry about it. We smile at each other and I wish I could kiss him like I would if we were a couple.

"Did Davood call you?" he asks.

"Call me? Why?" Before Garnier can answer me, I receive a text message from Amir-Reza.

"Davood wants us to play as a tribute to Roxana. Can you make it?"

"Davood wants us to play?"

"Yes."

"Isn't it early for that?" I feel sick to my stomach. "My singing is why she died. And now they want me to sing as a tribute to her? How can I do that?"

Garnier puts his hand on my arm without taking his eyes off the road. "It is not your fault." He sighs. "The day before she died, she needed money. A lot of money. She was in trouble with her dealer. I thought if she could pay him off, she could get herself out of trouble. I recommended for her to go to a clinic. But still, it's my fault she had the financial means to overdose. If someone is responsible, I am."

"She chose to do this. You can't blame yourself."

He looks away from the road and raises his eyebrows at me.

"And I shouldn't blame myself either, for the same reason. But to play her songs... Doesn't it seem wrong?"

"It depends how you do it. Make it a tribute to her. Do it as a gift to her. A way to highlight and showcase her work. Do it for her and not for yourself. Then, I think it is one of the nicest things you can do for her."

I nod. I'm not convinced, but his point is valid enough.

Garnier's become Davood's go-to guy or something because we have to stop by Amir-Reza's on his request, to pick the guy up. I'm disappointed. I know this is about finding Leyli and Aude and never expected it to be a date, but I'd hoped that being alone with him would have been a nice little bonus to the whole adventure. Instead, the bonus is food. Loads of food from Amir-Reza's family restaurant. If this keeps up, I'm going to have to start going to the gym. But the kabobs are so good it will all be worth it.

The party is at another one of those mansions that make my parents' nice condo look like a dump. It sits up high in North Tehran, overlooking much of the neighborhood.

"Rumor is that Ramtin himself is staying there," Garnier says.

Amir-Reza lets out a low whistle. He's impressed for completely different reasons than Garnier and I. Actually, I'm not impressed at all. I'm scared.

"Do you know how huge it is that we could be playing for Ramtin himself? Your harp playing and singing is going to blow him away, Nakissa. You're not going to let him steal you away from us, are you?"

I freeze. In all senses of the word. I can't move and shivers rack my body. He would take me away. Just like he took Leyli and Aude. And though he has uses for the other two, me he just wants to get rid of.

"Don't worry. I won't let him take her away." Though he's talking to Amir-Reza, his words are for my benefit. He's letting me know he'll protect me. Do I need protection? I've ever felt this way before but I think in this case, I do.

A passphrase gets us into the compound, and Garnier parks in a parking lot full of premium imported cars. In fact, the car next to us is a bright yellow Ferrari convertible. This party surpasses the previous ones in all ways, including the uncomfortable factor. A barely dressed girl asks me if I want to join in the orgy happening in the pool house.

I make a mental note to stay clear of the pool house.

We find Davood inside the main house. He's setting up some of our instruments on the deep red Persian carpet covered platform in the main receiving area. The walls here are trimmed and paneled in gold tones and glittering chandeliers hang from the blue tiled vaulted ceilings. The wall behind the stage proudly displays a mosaic of mirror and golden-hued tiles. My high heels make a clicking sound on the shiny marble floors. This room belongs in a palace inhabited by kings.

The lights are dimmed and more people find their way into the room. Guys and girls dressed in Chanel and Gucci and, of course, Bijan (the designer, not my step-father). My premium quality clothes are cheap compared to all the designer brands prominently displayed. Yet I realize, for the first time, that Garnier fits in perfectly with this crowd. Amir-Reza, on the other hand, sticks out like a sore thumb. I guess it's okay since he's  _the entertainment_. I am too.

Garnier excuses himself while Davood steps on the stage to get the party-goers attention. I nod at him and get side-tracked by a waiter dressed in a tuxedo offering me champagne. I've never had champagne. I grabbed a glass and turn towards the stage. I'll take a few sips and ditch it when I'm called on stage. But Davood doesn't announce Farâsoo yet. It's another band he manages. I don't know why this comes to me as such a surprise. Of course we wouldn't be the only band under his wing. Still, I feel a little jealous.

The band has a jazzy style to it that is really lovely and relaxing. The lead singer reminds me of a Persian Frank Sinatra and I find myself swaying happily to the music while sipping on my drink. The music is lovely but it's missing that special something that Farâsoo has. I smile into my glass. Garnier slips his arm around me and leans me towards him. His mouth is near my ear and my knees weaken. I imagine him kissing me on the spots tickled by his breath. Trailing his lips down my neck, pausing in the space where it meets my shoulder and...

"I haven't spotted them yet. Have you seen anything?"

"Hm?"

"Have you seen Leyli or a girl that fits Aude's description?"

I take a deep breath to shake off the mood and pull away from him so I can face him. I shake my head no.

"You stay here and keep your eye on the crowd. I'm going to explore the rest of the place."

"Including the pool house?" I'm surprised by the ice-cold tone of my voice.

"If I have to."

"You would like that, wouldn't you?"

He furrows his brow at me, then shakes his head while shrugging and walks away. What's wrong with him? How could he get me all hot and then just go off to some obscene place? I finish my champagne and motion the waiter for another glass.

I walk around the room looking for Leyli, but the crowds are getting bigger and the lights are becoming dimmer and I fear I won't find her. Actually I fear that I won't find her not because the place is crowded or because the lights are dimmed... but because she isn't here. She may have been sacrificed to create a rock monster. I know this because Nagissa knows this. I push her further down into me. I'm me. Just me. I don't want her to take over. I don't want to also be a sacrifice.

I've walked around the room several times, catching sight of neither Leyli nor Garnier, when Davood calls me and the rest of Farâsoo to the stage.

My stomach flips and my hands shake. I've never performed for so many people before. I've never deliberately walked on stage before. In one way or another, Nagissa has always pushed me. But I won't let her out anymore. I can't let her out. I pull myself up straight, exhale slowly and walk for the stage. I can do this.

Or can I? Can I do this with Nagissa repressed so far that it's like she's never existed. Garnier says we're the same person. He says I'm fighting myself. Is he right? It doesn't feel right. But for the first time I hope he is. I hope I can still play the music that soothes my soul. I hope the memories good and bad, the memories of a girl who is so much stronger than I am, are really mine. And most of all, I hope the person I am today, the human girl with her fear and insecurity, will always remain.

From the stage, the crowd seems bigger than when I was down in it. The large ballroom is filled with people from wall to wall. Many of them aren't looking at me. They're standing around chatting with each other. Sipping on drinks. Eating European-style canapés. I kneel in front of the harp, but she isn't talking to me. She's Nagissa's and not mine. We are strangers and I know I won't be able to play. I could escape everything. With Nagissa pushed so far down, I could just forget about everything, go home, and live a normal life. Without Leyli.

I clench my fists, close my eyes. There is no other choice. None I can live with. I let go of the tight control I have on the ageless Gargoyle living within me. I loosen my grip on sanity. I accept her memories. Her personality fills me, but doesn't take me over. It's who I used to be, but I've changed. Same as a recovered alcoholic will still have memories of his alcohol-induced fits of violence, I have memories of power-hunger and of indifference. The memories aren't all bad, but I know I'm a better person than I was when I was her. And I don't have to lose that.

The band plays around me and I've missed my cue at least a few minutes ago. They are trying to make the best of it, but I can tell by the way they are playing, by the energy they are releasing, that they don't know what to do about my silence. I count the beats and find a good opening. My fingers tickle the strings and tease the sounds out of the instrument. Softly, like a cool breeze in spring. I continue this way until I can't bear it any longer. I open my mouth and breathe out the first few notes. The sound slow and languid. Mournful and hopeful. I take all the suffering I have known. The longing, the loss, the boredom, the doubt. Lust, love, hope, and compassion. I ball it all together and release it to the crowd.

It feels cold and warm at the same time. Blue and green. Soft and tingly. It's essence. I'm releasing essence to the crowd, but I'm not an essencialist. The other part of me, the memories that are mine and not at the same time, even they don't understand it. It's like I found magic in the air. In the very music I'm playing, and I'm taking it and giving it at the same time.

When the song comes to an end, I'm not the only one with tears in my eyes. I motion for the band not to start on the next song right away. I let the silence seep in before I address the crowd.

"These songs were written by someone whose memory we mourn and celebrate tonight. We are Farâsoo and we would be nothing if she hadn't given everything for us." I imagine Roxana now, struggling trying to write the perfect songs. I feel her desperation in the lyrics I sang. Her quest for perfection permeated the accords. "She gave everything for her music. So we give the music back to her." I nod to Amir-Reza. His eyes shine with tears and with love. He nods back and starts a solo on the guitar.

My tears fall more openly now. Sliding down my cheek and onto the stage. I reach out to the harp and match Amir-Reza's soulful whining sound. My harp is a light sprinkling summer rain to his spring storm. Both sounds play with each other and the others join in.

I'm alive. I feel the energy that surrounds me, brushing against my cheeks and tickling my hair. My eyes are more open somehow. I can see everything.

I see him first. At the back of the room, near a door. His black hair moves around his neck in a breeze. His piercing eyes seem greener and are fixed directly on me. His lips are set tight together. I tear my eyes away from him because there are two other figures near him that deserve my attention. The two girls have their arms linked together. They could be sisters. Except Leyli doesn't have a sister.

I stand up and begin to leave the stage but Davood stops me. "I need more than two songs."

"Sure, go sing some more songs, then. I have somewhere I need to be."

He grabs my arm and I jerk away from him. "Don't you dare touch me." I crane my neck over the crowd but I can't see anything. I don't know if they are still there.

Garnier pushes his way to me. I throw myself into his arms. He holds me tight. "What's wrong?" he whispers.

I push away from him and grab his hand, pulling him away from Davood. Pulling him into the crowd. "They're here." I shout over the noise of the crowd. He shakes his head at me.

I can talk to him through his mind. I just need to judge his essence to understand the frequency. My memories tell me that. They also don't think I can do it because I'm not an essencialist. I can't manipulate essence. Or at least, I shouldn't be able to.

Recalling the energy I saw flowing in and out of the crowd, I concentrate on Garnier's hand in mine. I search for essence. Halfway through the crowd I'm assaulted by a wave of cold fire. Essence. It is coming from Ramtin, but I grab it and use it. Garnier's essence reacts to his; though much dimmer, it has a similar quality. I anchor myself to them, but I can't use the mind voice because I know Ramtin would hear me. There should be a way to block him out, but I don't know how. So instead I use it to pull me to him. Once I get to the spot I had seen him, he's no longer there. But I know where he is.

I had never seen her like this. She was on a mission. Wherever she dragged me was important. I knew it had something to do with Ramtin and she confirmed it when she anchored his essence to me. Was she Nagissa then? I couldn't recognize which girl I was dealing with.

If Ramtin was here, did it mean Aude was too? Nakissa took me through a door to a less crowded room. There, people were smoking different substances and lounging on sofas.

She was in a corner. Just across the room from me. Aude.

The thick red streaks of her hair brightened her otherwise tired face. She wore heavy eyeliner rising at the corner giving her eyes the same cat-shape look as the girl who stood next to her. Leyli. Nakissa's friend. The girls whispered animatedly to each other. I picked up the pace and was leading Nakissa now. Aude had seen me. She and Leyli had stopped talking.

Everything else in the room blurred. I'd found her. I followed my instinct and stayed in Iran to look for her and I was right. I was actually right. I could bring her home to Guillaume. I looked to Nakissa who was now behind me. I would have to leave her then?

Ramtin stepped in front of them. His face was scrunched in a terrible frown but he wasn't looking at me. He was looking at Nakissa.

He closed the space between us. I looked from Aude, to Leyli, to Nakissa, and finally rested my sight on Ramtin. He only had eyes for Nakissa. There was something else behind the fury. Something I didn't recognize.

"It is you," he said.

She bit her lip and her hold on my hand tightened.

"You're not what you should be."

"You mean dead? No thanks to you."

"Why do you always have to do things the hard way? Don't you remember how it used to be between us?"

She shook her head. "Those five years were an illusion. We never loved each other; we both needed something from the other. It's different. I know what love feels like." She paused. "But you could never know."

Ramtin shifted his piercing gaze to me. "So, you think you love each other?"

"I...I..." I didn't think anything. I knew I liked her, but how could I say I loved her?

"This is not about Garnier," she snapped. "And it's not about us."

The reminder of their shared past stung. It had been centuries ago, but was still important to them, somehow. The way Marguerite would always be a part of my past. Being immortal, we knew better than most how important it was not to dwell. There was too much past and it risked trapping us. But it didn't mean it couldn't affect us. Guillaume had been paralyzed by the past until Aude had released him from it. In a way, she had released us all from Guillaume's past. And here she stood, quiet. She wouldn't release me from my past. It was something I had to do on my own.

"Aude and Leyli are coming with us," I told Ramtin.

"They are free to leave. Do you see them restrained in any way? But I don't think they want to leave."

They weren't. He was right. Even when I had seen the recognition in their eyes. Even when they stopped whispering to each other. They hadn't shown any interest in escaping. What had he done to them? Their eyes were dull. The spark of life was so far away. Aude was an essecialist. Her supply of essence was almost infinite. But she had to release it. She had to pull it out of her core.

"Aude owes her life to me," Ramtin laughs. "She's special. Just the way I created her to be."

"Aude owes what she is to her ancestry. It has nothing to do with you."

"Do you really believe all the events that have led us to where we are now were due to chance? Who do you think introduced the witch line to the shaman line?" He looked at Aude. "It's too bad that degenerate alcoholic wanted to shape up and take care of his new family. _That_  hadn't been part of my plan. But it's okay, I took care of that. Alcoholics are easy to get rid of."

"You introduced Aude's parents to each other? Why?"

"Weren't you listening? She's special. Earth magic and soul magic. It's a rare combination. Anyway, I could tell you all the other things I did to get where we are today, but I'm bored with this conversation." He looked hard at Nakissa. "Though always you resist my manipulations." He sighed and stepped towards her, and I put myself between them.

"Suit yourself. I can take her once I decide what to do with her. You guys weren't able to protect Aude once I really wanted her, were you?" He motioned to the two girls. "Come on, girls. We're done here."

They walked out of the room. Before we could follow them, the same big security guys as last time blocked us. I tried to push through them but they grabbed both of us by the arms and dragged us out of the building.

I ached to go back in. But I needed a plan. I needed help.

So we went home.

I had just finished updating my family on the night's events when I heard a knock at my hotel door. There was no peephole, but I could feel the essence of a Jinni before I'd even reached the door knob. What did Pareen want now? Maybe she had answers about Ramtin's plan. Maybe she had ideas on how to stop him.

I opened the door and froze. The creature in front of me was part beast and part human. He had animal hooves and a donkey's tail. His teeth and ears were large and his face was pockmarked. His eyes glowed red. Though my first instinct was to fear the creature, it was quickly apparent that he wanted no harm. In fact, he was terrified of me. He cowered at the door as if fighting the invisible force that kept him there.

I looked up and down the hallway. It was empty. I kneeled in front of him. "Why are you here?" I used a calm but stern voice. I didn't know how to handle a creature such as he was, but it seemed I shouldn't let him know I was frightened. In fact my curiosity much outranked any fear I felt.

"She..." He gritted his teeth together. "She... Strong.... She's strong."

"Who is strong?"

"She wants me to die... for you."

 "Who wants you to die?"

He pulled a dagger from his belt and pointed it at me. I stepped back. This creature wasn't as harmless as I thought.

"She compelled me. Said... I had to die to give you essence of a Jinni. Ra... Ramtin has done this."

"He's done what?"

"He's sacrificed Jinn for their essence. Nagissa used to do it too... a lot of good it did her."

"So you are here to kill yourself to help me?"

His eyes were filled with fear, hatred and disdain. "I hate you. I hate your kind. And I hate humans. I would never help you." He threw himself at my feet. "But I don't have a choice."

He waved his knife in the air. "I don't have a choice."

He stuck it in his chest and though red blood poured first, quickly essence flowed from his wound... It hovered in the air around me and I stepped away but it followed me. Pushed me up against the wall. I had nowhere to go. I tried to close myself off to it. To protect my essence. But I didn't have time. It was on me. The smokeless fire burned as it forced itself through my mouth, ears and nose. I thought my head would explode. I fell to my knees and started retching. Over and over again. As if my body needed to get rid of everything inside of me to make room for this new power... this new life. I tried to stand up, but fell right back down. My vision went black.

I unglued my eyes but the room was still moving. No, it wasn't moving, I was.

"Good, you're awake. You can get yourself into your bed on your own," a voice said.

"Where am I?" My throat was raw. My stomach was still weak.

"In your hotel room. About four feet away from where you passed out in your own vomit. Actually, if you can manage it, I'd recommend taking a shower."

I rolled over to my side and watched the concierge walk towards the door. "I better not be the one who has to clean that mess," he muttered to himself in Persian before disappearing.

My legs felt too weak to stand up. I crawled to the bathroom and ran the bath. I shivered in the corner waiting for the water to fill the bath. What had happened to me? That Jinni harmed me somehow. I wasn't even certain he'd really died, or if this was some trick. Whatever it was, it wasn't harmless.

I peeled the clothing from my body slowly, afraid a sudden movement would turn my stomach over again and I crawled into the warm water.

It calmed me. I began to breathe slower. He'd said someone had sent him to me. Who could it be? Ramtin? Or was it someone else? Could it really be intended to be for my good? I tried to feel within me, see if I felt stronger or more powerful, but all I felt was off. Sick. As if my essence was a sickly brown instead of a bright blue.

I began to shiver uncontrollably again and my stomach flipped like I was on a boat in a bad storm. I stared at the horizon, which in this case was simply the place where the marble floor met the beige wall. I had to find Pareen. If she wasn't responsible she would know who was.

I lay back on my bed and inspect the ceiling. I remember things from long ago. These things don't always make sense since I don't remember the entire context. I remember a time of enchantment and magic. The land of legend was already beginning to fade away when I first came to life, but I remember it, still. I remember the creatures of smokeless fire. The creatures we got to know as Jinn when the Arabs arrived. They had always been around. Both the good and the bad. But the ones that came with the invasion were different. More aware of humans.

They used the name Jinn. And the balance of power shifted. Some of them allied themselves with the invaders. Evil Jinn that fed off death and blood. It was a dark time.

It wasn't long after those days that I'd met Pareen. She was a queen. Maybe she still is. I swing my legs off the side of the bed and jump to my feet. I cross my room to rest against the glass window. Maybe she's out there and I bet she has answers. But how do I find her? I search Nagissa's memories and realize she would be in South Tehran.

Her kind often prefer villages where people are more superstitious but Pareen would want a larger kingdom to reign over.

I might actually know where she is, but I'm not familiar with the area so I'm not sure. I can't waste time now that I finally have a plan.

I tell Maman that I'm off to go hang out with the band. She mutters to herself but doesn't stop me.

When I walk out of the building, I notice Ehsan's car. I slow down and look around. I don't feel like facing him, but I can't find anywhere else to go. And he's spotted me. He rolls down his window.

"Come in. I'll drive you to where you're going. I'd like to talk to you."

My heart stops. Ehsan wants to talk to me. I don't want to talk to him, mind you. But it feels strangely gratifying to think he's still thinking about me. He remembers I exist. It's hard to believe he's here after the way it ended between us. He doesn't seem real. Like a ghost, or some imaginary friend suddenly in front of me in the flesh. That wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to stay dead to me.

"I don't think we have anything to talk about." As I say it, I'm surprised at how much I mean it. Ehsan is nothing. He had been something before, he'd seemed like everything at the time, but time moves on and my time with him wasn't long enough to be worth much.

But I could use a ride so I get in his car.

"I wanted to apologize."

"You have nothing to apologize about," I say. Not anymore. I've moved on so far away from the girl who would be concerned about his apology.

"I feel I owe you an apology. Or at least an explanation."

"Seriously, there's nothing to worry about."

"It's just my parents want me to –"

"I need to go to Javadiyeh neighborhood. Can you drive me there or no?"

" _Texas_? What are you doing there? It's not a place for someone like you. Are you slumming it or something? Is that a good idea?"

I'm distracted by the neighborhood's nickname. It reminds me that Maman had mentioned moving to North America. The thought isn't as unappealing as it used to be. I could be with Garnier. Or at least on the same continent as him.

"Nakissa?"

"I have someone I need to meet."

"Is it your new boyfriend?"

"No, it's not. Are you going to take me there?"

He shakes his head. "I don't know what is going on with you. I hope it isn't because of me. I can't be a part of these things. You should go back home."

"Right." I push my shoulder against the car door to open it and slam it shut once I'm out. "Have a nice life."

He speeds off. Good riddance. I don't need him anyway.

My head is a fog and my chest hurts with emotion. It doesn't matter that Ehsan and I weren't together long, or that I like Garnier now, break ups hurt. I walk to the nearest metro station trying, unsuccessfully, to distract myself by scoping out the nice boutique's window displays all along Mirdamad Boulevard.

Mirdamad station is one of my favorites. It isn't tight and dark like so many other subway stations. Illuminated walls and columns reflect on shiny marble floors. It's open and modern. Just like I am.

I sit on one of the little clusters of red seats, and wait for the whoosh sound of the train. I rarely use the metro, since I usually use Maman's car or have my friends drive me. I usually don't wander around Tehran alone. I hope I'm not making a big mistake.

I tug my black head scarf up a little and tighten it. Not everyone in South Tehran is conservative, but I'll blend in better this way. Anyway, Jinn are attracted by long hair. I'd rather not get their attention until I need to.

When the train finally comes, I choose one of the women-only wagons in the back. I don't mind having to sit beside a boy. As a matter of fact, I normally like it, but I have more chances to blend in if I don't have to worry about men staring at me. I find an empty seat away from too many prying eyes and slump down.

Nagissa's memories don't tell me where to get off the metro, so I get out at a random station that seems about in line with where I'm headed. Maybe I should have come up with a more concrete plan. I wish I could just text Pareen asking her for directions. Do Jinn text? I bet they do.

At least Gargoyles text. I can reach Garnier if I'm in trouble. I step out of the metro station and begin to make my way west. It hits me all of a sudden how vulnerable I am. I'm not a powerful Gargoyle anymore. Just a girl, like I've been this entire lifetime, but I'd never had a chance to really understand my mortality until now. A wrong move is all it could take.

And I'm being followed.

"I can't take you further," the taxi driver said.

"But I'm not even near."

"This is the start of Jinn territory. I don't want to have anything to do with them. You can find another taxi. Some are desperate enough... but I've heard the stories. Out."

I paid the driver and resigned myself to walking through the almost deserted streets. I couldn't even be too upset with the driver for his superstitious nature, he was correct. This was Jinn territory. It's why I was here.

Only two blocks after I left the taxi, I felt as if I was being followed. I smiled. It seemed my guard dog/griffin Deleer was around. I slowed my pace and searched the shadows for him, but I couldn't find him. Was he still shy with me?

After several blocks of looking for him, a sudden wave of nausea doubled me over. I knew the feeling too well. It was corruption – tainted essence – and a lot of it. When I got back to my feet, I saw them. Jinn. About twenty of them crowded together. Most of them were weak, and ugly. They looked like deformed humans. Like the animals we'd seen in Montreal before the earthquakes. All but one. One stood tall at the back of the crowd. He looked human but too beautiful. Most of the energy radiated from him. He was the one making me sick.

He was drawn to me just as I was repulsed by him and I understood it then. It was the tainted essence in me. I felt the murky essence within me purifying itself. But I was still a little sick and this called out to them. They hadn't immediately meant me harm. But they now recognized I wasn't one of them.

I needed to run, but they surrounded me. I wanted to shift, but the taint in me made me too sick. I didn't want to just stand there and die either. I remembered the way my body had attracted that dying Jinni's essence. Could I do that on my own? I felt for the locket I still kept in my pocket. The Jinni who had given it to me had said something about being able to control essence. I pulled it out and held it tightly in front of me. As if it was some sort of talisman.

I focused on the creatures in front of me, but felt nothing. I took a deep breath and really concentrated, but the only difference was the knot in my stomach getting tighter. Whether it was from the nausea or fear, I couldn't tell. I pulled deep within myself but I just became sicker and sicker. I emptied my stomach right before the first one got to me. It reached me mentally first. The locket slipped out of my hand. That's what saved me. When it tried to pull at my essence, I was trying to grab hold of the locket. My mind connected with the creature's somehow and I got a hold on it mentally. Through its essence. I had somewhere to tug back. I pulled hard. And he unraveled entirely inside me. His physical form melted and bubbled on the asphalt.

I had an opening to run and I took it. I ran and I ran. And though they kept chasing me, they never got closer either.

Until I reached a dead end.

Then another creature reached for me the way the first had. I knew how to grab its essence now. And I did. Again and again. But the creatures kept coming faster and faster and I couldn't react fast enough. I tugged and pulled where I could. I tried to shield myself mentally, and physically, but they kept coming and lashed out at me with fingernails and claws and teeth. I could hardly stand up. My vision blurred and doubled. I tugged and pulled their essence into me whenever I could reach them, but the effort and their taint made me violently ill each time. I fell to my knees and curled up into a ball ready to die.

South Tehran is worse than I remember it. The earthquakes have destroyed the area and people have barely begun to rebuild. There is more to it, too. Something otherworldly. A scrawny cat limps between two buildings and stops to stare at me. With his one eye. I shudder. The cat is off. In fact the whole neighborhood is off.

A faint sound of metal scraping on pavement causes me to look at my feet. A piece of jewelry lies there. I'm shocked. It shouldn't be there. Last I'd seen it, Garnier had it and I didn't want to touch it. Then I'd recognized it as something I'd owned, and recognized it contained power, but not the rest. With only Nakissa's awareness, I hadn't seen it for what it was. Something that belongs to me like the harp does. More than the harp does. This locket isn't mine, it's me.

I bend to retrieve it and the moment I tighten my clasp against it, I feel it. Strong. It flows into me. Clear and cool. It tingles. Who could have done this? Who could have preserved my essence like this? Why is it here for me to find?

I take a deep breath and smile. It's not my old power. I'm still very much human. I'm still unfortunately mortal. But I'm not defenseless anymore. I have the power of your average human witch, but knowledge-wise, I'm far superior. The things I can do with this essence. I'm giddy. Giddy and light headed. Maybe I don't need to find the Jinn. This pendant is all I need. I instinctively cast my essence ahead of me before turning back to return home. I stop in my steps. I'm floored by what I feel. Corruption. Fear. Pain.

Clear blue essence seeping out into the Earth. More of it turning murky.

Can I ignore the pain and go? It's not my fight, I should preserve myself. I'm so mortal and what I feel is beyond me. Beyond my new power. But what if I can help? I grit my teeth together and run towards the pain. Even though I know I'm going to regret this.

I run for several blocks and finally round the corner into a dead end. I feel him immediately. He's so weak but with my essence cast out the way it is, I can't help but recognize him. I can't regret coming here. No matter what happens, I'm here for a reason. Garnier can't die. I cast out wider and further. I need to find safe haven. A mosque, a church, a synagogue, a temple. I feel nothing like that. The earthquakes have destroyed the local mosques. There is no protection here.

I do feel something else. Someone else. Ramtin is on his way and Garnier has no time. I have to find another way. I can only think of one trick. It's a sort of parlor trick. The one that inspired my escape into humanity. I cast most of my essence outside of myself. Only this time I keep a small wound up ball of it tight inside. I concentrate it all in one area, making a projection of myself. I pull at Garnier's essence too. But it feels wrong and I momentarily lose focus. My stomach heaves. This isn't time to get sick. Curse my human stomach.

I pull back some of my essence and use it to heal myself. Then to cleanse Garnier. But he's still under attack and soon the Jinn will see me and come after me. Each hit he takes loosens my hold. Pushes me back. But I can't give up. Everything I have been through has led to this moment. I remember seeing Garnier for the first time. His blue eyes had captivated me. So human and otherworldly at the same time.

There had been so much humor in his eyes. I had momentarily thawed. But it hadn't been enough. Now it is all I can hold on to. The essence-blue of his eyes. The smokeless fire that burns within him. He isn't stronger than the other Gargoyles. In fact, he's weaker. More human. How can someone live so long and retain that vulnerability?

I need to know him. Not because he's different than me. I know all about being vulnerable, now. But because he is precious. In so many ways.

It comes out of me, not from my core where our essence is tied, but from my chest. The place that aches when one suffers love. More white than blue. More human than soul. And it cleanses him. Purifies him so that I can manipulate his essence.

_Oh, Garnier, please forgive me. I think this will work. But please forgive me if it doesn't._

I grab his essence and anchor it to mine. I throw it back out of me, this time casting Garnier with me. When I look up, the creatures have begun advancing on me. But they pause. Distracted. They look between me and the spot two blocks away. The place I had felt a homeless man sleeping on the curve.

I pause, just realizing the fate I sent this man to. Hopelessness seizes me. I could, I should, call it back. But I don't. I don't want to live. I'm so tired and it's not worth fighting, but I need something. I need to save Garnier.

Only one thought. One need drives me. I walk towards him and try to pull him up. He doesn't help me. I can't leave him there but I can't save him either. Finally he stops fighting me. He stops fighting. One thing drives me; Garnier cannot die. I don't know where I'm going, or how to get there. I just need to get far away from where Ramtin is. But I can't think of that. I can't think of anything except how hopeless it is. How heavy Garnier is. I can't continue dragging him.

We have to rest. I don't know if we're safe. I'd thought I was making us safe, but I can't see how it could work. I can't see how anything could work. I'm failing Garnier. I'm failing myself too. Whatever is left of me.

I drag him off the street. Into the inner walls of an old apartment building. I don't know if anyone still lives there. I don't want to know. In a way, I just want it to be all over. I have so little left. But I have Garnier. Is he sleeping or is he dead?

I prop him against the wall and stare at him for about thirty seconds. He's the only thing I have left. He has to be alive. I grab his hand. It doesn't feel like the hand of a corpse. I feel for his pulse. My whole body is shaking so I drop his hand a couple times. Finally I find it. It's there. Steady. Something inside me grows. It's not bright enough to call it hope. But it's coming from that core where I have this little ball of me left.

I can't let go of that  _me_. But I can't let it grow too big either. I can't get their attention. I just want to close my eyes. I want to stop caring. But Garnier stirs.

My eyes could open, but I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to continue. I wasn't me anymore, just a body. What was left of who I had been was so small it only teased me. I couldn't keep living like this. I couldn't continue. It wasn't fair.

I wrapped the darkness around myself. Even this was too difficult. Took too much out of me. I'd had a long life, why shouldn't I just let go of it now?

"Wake up Garnier."

Nakissa's voice was dull but painful. Like being stabbed by a butter knife. It woke me up. Though barely. Could I hold on for her? I didn't know if I could. I didn't know if I wanted to. Why should I continue to give of myself for others? Maybe I'd already given everything I had to give.

I'd lost Marguerite. I'd lost Vincent. I'd even lost Guillaume in a way. We did everything together but first Marguerite, then Aude came between us. I even lost Aude. And I was tired. So tired of holding on to who I was. Tired of smiling and joking and pretending everything was alright. Guillaume was allowed to be dark and broody but I was expected to be happy. To be normal.

Hands wrapped around mine but didn't warm me. Whose hands were these that were even colder than mine? I tried to focus and remembered Nakissa had been with me. She slumped down next to me, her shoulders touched mine slightly. Just enough that I could feel her shivering. I wanted to save her. I wanted to be strong and take what I want.

I let everyone take everything from me. I hadn't fought for Nagissa the first time around. I hadn't even fought for Marguerite. I never let her know how she hurt me; instead I acted strong. I did it for me. For my pride. But all along I told myself I did it for them. So they could be happy together without worrying about me. It never worked. Guillaume had been weighed down by his guilt. Then he met Aude and something about her lit a spark in both of us, but I never even allowed myself to like her. I had never fought for anyone and I couldn't fight for Nakissa. Not now. I couldn't. I had to fight for myself first. I had to deserve her.

I held on tightly to the realization. That was me. That was how I could stay myself. I closed my eyes. I slowed my breathing and held on. It was my weakness that made me strong. It was how much I gave to others. But I needed to learn to do for myself what I did for others. I needed to believe the Garnier other people saw was real.

When her shoulder stopped quivering, I couldn't wait anymore. She had done something and it had saved us. Barely. Now I needed to save us. I needed to reverse it. But I didn't have the energy to cast my essence. In fact, if I lost any more essence I would turn to stone.

I opened my eyes and moved to my knees. My hands squeezed her cold ones.

"Nakissa?" Her name barely escaped my lips.

Her eyes were empty. She was empty.

"I can't do it." I whispered to her.

"We should give up," she said.

"Don't say that."

"It's me Ramtin wants dead. He's spared you before. He'll do it again. You could save yourself." She pulled her hands away from mine and wrung them together. "If I go to him alone you could escape him."

"Nakissa. You did something to save us, and it worked, I think. But you need to undo it now."

"I can't." She let herself fall so she lay in a fetal position on her side. "He's coming. We have to give up."

Garnier shakes my shoulder. His movements are slow, listless. He won't let me sleep but he's not feeling any better than I am. Of course he wouldn't. I sent his essence off. I sent the Jinn towards an unsuspecting person and now what? It wasn't gone. I still held on to it. How did the Jinn not get to him already?

Something had distracted them. I roll up to my knees and use the wall to support myself upright. I can only think of one thing. One person. Ramtin interrupted them. They're coming back for us and there's nothing I can do. I can't save us. I can't save Leyli.

I have nothing to live for.

Something burns inside me. A contradiction. What about my family? I'm not alone anymore. I have ties. Strong human ties. It would devastate them if something was to happen to me. I have to save Leyli. And I have to save Garnier.

I grab hold tight of the essence I had taken from him and slam it into him, pausing for a half a breath before doing the same with mine. If Ramtin didn't know where we were before, he does now. I'm dizzy but I don't have time for that.

"Garnier!"

His eyes open. The whites are red and glossy. The distant look is different now. He's in pain. I put my hand on his forehead. He has a fever. Since when do Gargoyles get fevers? He squints his eyes at me and I see something more than the pain. More than the fever and the fear.

I don't think about it. I throw my arms around him and hold him tightly against me. When his breathing sounds normal I pull away to look at him.

His smile is weak but it's all I need. I bring my lips to his. They are cold at first, but warm up. Soon he's kissing me back. He's warmer and warmer and I remember he's feverish. I make a half-serious attempt to pull away but he pushes back against me. My head becomes light and that spot in my chest tightens and expands.

His eyes open again and they seem clearer. He still feels warm to the touch but not as feverish. He gently untangles himself from me.

"What happened?"

And it all comes rushing back to me. "We have to get away from here."

I grab his hand and pull him with me. Our footsteps echo the fast rhythm beating in my chest. Fear and exhilaration combine into a new, almost pleasant, sensation. His hand is deliciously warm in mine. Our pace is steady. As we move away from the worst parts of the neighborhood, we begin encountering people. People who notice the way our hands are locked together. But I can't allow myself to pull away from him. Not yet. Anyway, I'm a witch now. Let them try to stop me from doing what I want.

Finally, as we approach the subway station, he's the one who detaches himself from me. He leans against a wall and catches his breath.

"I think if our goal is to get away... we've attracted enough attention... We need to be more careful." His words are interrupted by heavy breathing. He's not well. I saved him, but he still needs help. A Gargoyle shouldn't be in such bad shape.

He can't go back to his hotel. But I can only think of one place I feel safe. In a way, it's the last place anyone would expect me to bring a boy. I need to bring him home.

Maman frowns when we walk in the door, but the expression doesn't last long. She sees he's hurt and the doctor in her quickly takes over. She leads him to the couch and sits him down.

She looks him over briefly and turns to me with a dead serious expression. "What in the world did you get yourself involved with?"

"We were attacked." I hope she won't want more detail. How would I even begin to explain all this to Maman?

"By what? Jinn? I can't heal this type of wound."

I freeze. Maman believes in Jinn. Maman, the rational one. The physician.

"Don't look at me like that. I would like to think you're intelligent enough to know what you've been dealing with."

I swallow and nod.

"How serious are you about healing him?"

"Very serious." I avoid eye-contact.

"We will need to summon one to heal him."

"One what? A Jinni?"

"Names are powerful. I know the name of one, but..."

"But what?"

Maman sits next to Garnier and looks at her hand. "But you need to understand what you're getting involved with."

"Maman, I'm already involved."

"This isn't something to take lightly Nakissa jan. When I got involved... Well... Agha joon was dying. I was desperate and some of the girls spoke of the better than us creatures. They were mostly spooky stories to scare each other, but I heard other stories too. Stories about them helping people. So I spoke to some more superstitious mullahs. Every one of them warned me against it, but I couldn't think of anything else. I became obsessed with the idea. Eventually, I found a wise woman who agreed to show me how to summon them." Maman exhales. "I saved your grandfather. But there was a price."

"What price?"

"They said once I had my own family, I would have to let go of one of them. It was easy to give up something I didn't know yet. Sometimes I wonder if your father would still be alive if I hadn't made that deal."

"Baba died in an accident. It can't be the Jinn."

Maman shrugs. "I don't know. In a way I hope it was, otherwise I'm still waiting for them to exact payment. You have to understand, Nakissa, a deal with the Jinn isn't something to take lightly."

I look at Garnier. I would give up almost anything for him, but how will my mother ever understand?

"There's more to the story isn't there?" Maman looks between us. She moves to the end of the couch furthest from Garnier and motions for me to sit next to her. Between them. I sit carefully and stare awkwardly and my hands. She takes a piece of hair and pushes it behind my ear. "There's always been something other-worldly about you. I tried to ignore it for a long time. Then, I thought it was just something residual from me. From my dealings with the Jinn. But there is more.

"I'm not sure if you remember that Leyli's mother and I used to be close. The reason we barely speak to each other now is because of something that happened when you were seven. She took you to her own mother in her village to have your fortune read. I didn't agree, but I went along with it. If anything, I would prove to her that she was crazy to believe in these things. And it was a road trip. Some excitement. It was before I met Bijan. I needed excitement, then."

She sighed. "But what happened freaked me out. You should have seen them. The villagers chanted and shook their hair. At first it was funny, but it became creepy. Their eyes lost the life in them. They said they were coming closer to God, but to me it seemed they were closer to the other-world creatures.

"They had you in the middle of them. Your eyes were so wide and I felt so bad that I couldn't protect you. And the women began to wail. They said you weren't a human child but a demon in disguise. They said I should drown you or abandon you. How could they say that about a seven year old child? Khanom Abbasi didn't say anything. She simply stood there. We never talked again, but I saw the looks she gave me from that day on. The looks she gave you."

I don't know what to say. Leyli's family had wanted me dead. They'd known about what I really am and they thought I should die. I rub the goosebumps on my arms. Would Maman want me dead too if she really understood?

"Maman, I have to do this. I have to save him."

She presses her lips together and gives me a firm nod. "I trust you, Nakissa jan." She laughs self-consciously. "I always thought if I kept you far away from the supernatural, it wouldn't touch you, but there is no stopping it, is there? I can help you summon the Jinn. I have a name. I can compel him to help."

"We can call Pareen," Garnier and I say at once.

I'm not surprised that Garnier knows about Pareen. Our lives have interconnected so much. Maman nods.

"We have to make the preparations, but I'm afraid we don't have much time."

Garnier seems fine to me. I wonder what Maman sees that I don't, so I look at him closer and I see the wounds then. The places where essence escapes him.

"I wish you would have time to fast properly but I'm scared you don't. Have you eaten any meat today?"

I shake my head.

"Don't look at me like this," Maman says. "It's more than just modern medicine that makes me a good doctor."

I'm in a dark empty room by myself. The only furniture is a chair in one corner. The windows are blacked out and though I know there are other people in the apartment, I feel completely isolated from them. I'm also hungry. Though the sun is about to set and I should be able to break my fast with vegetarian food, Maman has advised against it. She says we should take whatever precautions we can.

It's almost time, so I pour rose water in all four corners of the room, and make sure to freshen the incense being burned. I draw a large circle in the middle of the floor like we've practiced and write several verses from the Koran along with some other runes whose meanings are unclear to me. All I know is that all this stuff is supposed to protect me, but it all seems a bit much to me, like those cheesy Hollywood witchcraft movies. Still, there's a certain aesthetic pleasure to it all. The curves on curves are reminiscent of the great arches and domes of Eastern architecture. I'm pleased with my handiwork. I step into the circle and close it, then sprinkle iron shavings along the perimeter.

My heartbeat resonates in my ears. Otherwise, the room is silent. I know Pareen's hidden name from my old memories so I don't need to wrestle with Jinn to get to her. It should be relatively straightforward. Relatively safe.

Though a part of me has been involved in the supernatural for millennia, this still seems like diving into a completely different world. And for the human part of me, it's unreal. I know that once I do this, the world will forever change for me. I will be open to other experiences and will be forever marked by the other-world. Not that they hadn't already marked me.

I tuck in the loose edges of my scarf and run my fingers along them to make sure all my hair is covered. Some Jinn can be tempted and distracted by a woman's hair, and I don't want to leave anything to chance.

Finally, all my preparations are done. Night has fallen and the only thing left for me to do is to summon Pareen. The ornate iron dagger weighs my hand down and I hope that it's used for symbolism and not to defend myself. I focus on the chair and begin a cycle of repetition. The words seem ridiculous on my tongue but I don't break the cycle. I repeat them over and over. The air thickens and I sway slightly. I'm dizzy from the heavy incense and lack of food. The runes and diagrams at my feet seem to sway too. Though the room is completely black and I should not be able to see them, they emit a slight light blue glow. Like essence.

Suddenly I feel them. Several presences are vying for my attention. They seem angry or agitated but they don't breach my circle of protection. Likewise, I don't breach my chanting. This is a test of my strength and determination. There is no turning back now. I have opened myself to the other-world. I need to see it through.

My head hurts. A throbbing pain accentuates every syllable I utter. I clutch the dagger tighter and the creatures move. I can't tell if they move towards me or away and I don't even know what they look like. I simply feel their energy. And it's anything but calm.

I breathe deeply and continue reciting the words Maman told me. They are simple. I don't have to focus too much on them, so I focus on the chair instead. Finally, once I'm done, I call her. I use her secret name.

I close my eyes and when I open them, Pareen is sitting regally on the chair. She has one leg crossed over her knee and her hands on her lap. She looks like a queen. A very angry queen.

When Nakissa finally came out of seclusion, she looked half Jinn herself. Somehow in the few hours since I'd last seen her, she'd lost weight. Her eyes had dark rings under them and her hair seemed dull and brittle.

She didn't say a word, stepped right up to me, and placed her hand on my chest. Her mother came up behind her and placed her hands on Nakissa's shoulder while the latter healed me. The essence was unlike anything I'd ever felt. It was thick, like blood. But it had a strong, bright quality, too. Another feeling possessed me as her hand touched my body. A feeling that intensified the stronger I became. This feeling was much closer related to being a man than being a supernatural creature.

Once fully healed, I didn't know how I would resist her. How I would stop myself from touching my lips on hers, and on her neck and on... It was very warm in this apartment.

I pushed myself away from her hand.

"Thank you," I said.

She nodded and curled herself up in a ball on the other end of the couch. As if she was trying to keep herself as far away from me as possible. Of course she would, her mother was there. I couldn't take it personally.

I wished she would speak. I wanted to know what had happened in there. I needed to know more. If there was anything we could use to save Leyli and Aude. To save the world. Was it too much for me to expect? I was more than human, but my whole life had been spent protecting one witch, and even that seemed impossible to do at times.

Her mother excused herself and came back with warm milk and tea. She also set up a tray with some sesame seed and honey sweets, some mixed nuts, and a bowl of fruit and small cucumbers. When an older man entered the room followed by Nakissa's little brother, Nakissa's mother tried to shoo them away, but Ebi was happy to see me. I stood up and introduced myself to Nakissa's step-father.

The man, Bijan, eyed me warily. He let out a heavy sigh and was about to drop onto the seat opposite the couch when he noticed Nakissa. Worry etched deep lines into his gentle face and he stepped towards her.

"What's happened?" he demanded.

"She rescued this boy from a bad sort." I was impressed by how truthful the woman was to her husband, yet without opening him to things he was obviously not ready to believe. "He's a visitor here and we should extend him our hospitality. Could you and Ebi go to his hotel and pick up his things?"

Bijan furrowed his eyebrows with a quizzical look in his eyes but he did not challenge his wife. I gave him my key and the boys excused themselves, Ebi rather reluctantly. I assured him we would get time to hangout later.

"Maman, I need to talk to Garnier."

"I wish you would talk to me."

"Maman, please?"

"I'll start making dinner. Might as well show off how good my ghormeh sabzi is." She gave her daughter a long look before leaving the room.

Nakissa reached for her warm milk and held it tightly between her hands. She looked cold. I took my jacket off and placed it on her shoulder.

"Pareen wasn't happy," she said.

I sat next to her, but didn't dare touch her. I was an eight hundred year old supernatural creature, yet I was scared of the wrath of an Iranian mother.

"She wasn't happy to help me?"

"She wasn't happy to be summoned. Apparently this sort of a ritual leaves us both vulnerable. I had to compel her to help me. But when I finally did..." Nakissa looked at her hands and then to her feet. She settled herself deeper into the couch and wrapped her arms tighter against her knees. She looked at me. "She's giving more than I can take."

"What do you mean?"

"She will make me into a Gargoyle again."

A lightness overcame my heart. Nakissa would be one of us again. Female Gargoyles were rare simply because they were made to be protector mostly during a time when women were not seen as having any values in that aspect. But this was about more than just being about a girl of my own kind. It was about this girl. My girl. She would stay mine. Her eyes were serious, her mouth set in a line. I knew there was more to it. Something I was ignoring. I couldn't help it; I reached for her hands and smiled.

She didn't let me keep them for long before she withdrew them and looked me in the eye. Hers were red, and a pair of lonely tears shimmered on her cheek. "I can't accept her sacrifice."

My chest became heavier. Because to make a Gargoyle, a sacrifice had to be made. "You forced Pareen to offer to sacrifice herself?"

"No... Yes! I don't know. I just compelled her to help me. She said the only way she could help me was to offer herself as a sacrifice. There has to be another way. There has to be."

"Let's think about it. If you were stronger could you take Ramtin on?"

"No, he's always been just a little stronger than me. He has more resources. He has followers and witches, and Jinn."

"But you have some power now, and Pareen is very powerful. Isn't there a possibility it would make you equal?"

"Maybe but –"

"And my family is on the way to help save Aude. We now know Leyli's family has mystical powers. There's Deleer..."

"Deleer?"

"A Gargoyle dog."

"Oh. Of course."

She placed her head between her hands. "I just don't know. I don't know if this is something she even offered me of her own will. Do I have the right to take her life?"

"We don't have to make a decision right away. What you need right now is sleep. We can decide in the morning."

Was Nakissa strong enough that she could have summoned a Queen Jinn and compelled her to offer herself as a sacrifice? Pareen had always been on our side. Was it so unbelievable that she would have offered herself? But even if she hadn't, her death could mean life for countless people. Surely it would be worth it. I could sit comfortably with the idea. I knew what it was like to have someone lose their life to make you. Nakissa knew it too. We'd both been through it already. But Pareen had been alive for millennia; surely her time had to end eventually. Or would we be ridding the world of a timeless treasure?

We sat in silence until Bijan and Ebi came back and Nakissa's mother called us for dinner.

Her ghormeh sabzi was in fact delicious. But the beef chunks and red kidney beans in a green herb sauce didn't hold the answers to our dilemmas no matter how often we pushed them around our plates. Bijan asked questions about life in Montreal and how I liked Iran so far. I tried to keep up with the casual conversation but I couldn't focus. I could only think of Pareen, and how her death could mean the answer to most of our problems. I had never wished for someone to be dead like I did then. And the thought turned my stomach.

Once I managed to tune back into the conversation it came to my attention that it was the beginning of the Persian New Year and the family were trying to coordinate all of the visiting they would be doing within the next week. I was surprised they were including me in their plans.

"Should we say he is simply a visitor or that he is Nakissa's fiancé?" Her mother asked her husband.

Nakissa choked on her food. The way we felt about each other hadn't gone unnoticed but her parents had still accepted me into their home. I smiled and Nakissa furrowed her brows at me.

I cleared my throat. "You have been very generous but my family is coming in to Tehran tomorrow. It would be best if I stayed with them."

"Of course, of course. But are you sure you will be safe?"

"As safe as I can be, khanom."

"You and your family will visit us to celebrate the holiday?"

I smiled at her. Hopefully if we were still around for Nowruz, it would mean we'd been successful.

We finished dinner talking in a combination of Persian and English and I suddenly missed my own family very much. I missed the interaction I saw between Nakissa and her family. No matter how hospitable they were with me, we just didn't have that history that kept them talking and laughing. Color returned to Nakissa's cheeks. She looked more alive. When she had given up immortality to save her life, she had found so much more.

Was taking her humanity from her again the right answer? She could keep this relationship with her parents for a while and her mother was open to the supernatural; she would accept it even once it became obvious Nakissa wouldn't age. I wasn't asking her to give up anything. Just to be with me forever. My eyes met hers. Her cheeks colored even more and she looked to her plate. My heart lightened. I loved this girl in a way I could never have loved her previous incarnation.

I sighed happily and Nakissa's mother beamed a smile at me obviously thinking my satisfaction was derived from her food. And it could well have been. I was satisfied in many ways. I would convince Nakissa that Pareen's sacrifice was the right thing to do. We would defeat Ramtin. We would live together. Forever.

We stood by the glass window near the arrivals and as soon as the family came into sight, my heart dropped at Guillaume's state. He looked like he'd lost at least ten pounds. He was pale, listless. In fact, he looked a lot like Nakissa did after her summoning, but I knew Guillaume's pain lay elsewhere. After a quick look to make sure no one was paying us any attention, I gave Nakissa's hand a quick squeeze. I was glad she'd come with me.

I greeted Antoine, Guillaume, and old man Robert by hugging them and I bowed my head to Kateri as was appropriate here. Nakissa, who wasn't as worried about acting appropriately, gave everyone a quick handshake.

  "She really seemed okay when you saw her?' Guillaume asked me the moment introductions were over.

"I told you, she wasn't really herself. But, she was otherwise unharmed. I think we can get your Aude back."

He nodded with red rimmed eyes.

"We can discuss our plan at the hotel. This isn't the best place. We squeezed our four visitors in the backseat of my car, and ignored the "fastening the seat belt is mandatory" signs along the expressway. Ignoring road rules, I was fitting in more and more to the Tehran lifestyle.

Nakissa explained different landmarks in heavily accented English and we automatically turned our heads this way and that to follow her narrative, but in reality we were all lost in thoughts of what would come next. All nervous.

"Nakissa and I have a plan." I looked at them through the rear view mirror to make sure they were paying attention.

"We have a way to turn me back," Nakissa said.

"Turn you back? Back where?" Antoine asked.

Her features momentarily turned down into a small frown. "I'm sorry. I thought Garnier had filled you in about me."

"Apparently Garnier was a little too busy to fill us in on the details," Guillaume answered.

"Guillaume," Antoine warned.

"We thought he was here to protect Aude from Ramtin, not to flirt and find himself a girlfriend. I'm interested to know what he's told this girl about us. Aren't you? Does she even understand what she's dealing with?"

"Enough," I said.

Nakissa laughed and I knew that laugh came from the part of her soul that had been around for over a millennium. It came from Nagissa.

"Of course I know what you are. But you, on the other hand, have no idea. You're all newborns. You don't even know how to control your own essence. It's very cute that you rely on witches. Cute, but inefficient."

"What are you?" Guillaume asked.

"What I was and what I will be are different from what I am now." She paused. "When I was made, sometime in the fifth century, Gargoyles were made with the pure essence of Jinn. The kings from the Book of Kings lived for centuries sometimes. Why do you think that is? They were Gargoyles. Though they lived much more dangerous lives and did not survive as long as their court musicians."

"You're not a Gargoyle," Guillaume said.

"No, not anymore, and that brings us back to our plan. We have a Jinni willing to sacrifice herself."

"Wait. There is a way to be human again?" Guillaume now leaned forward in his seat, attentively listening to Nakissa. Of course he would want to be human. Wouldn't that just suit broody Guillaume so much? I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. Couldn't he understand just once that other people suffer too? Other people love and lose.

"Yes, but you have to die and be reborn."

"Nakissa's solution to becoming human was a desperate and courageous act to stay alive. It will not help you live a normal life with Aude."

He shrugged. "It was worth asking. You wouldn't understand, Garnier. With Aude missing it's made it all so much more real. After everything we've been through, the thought that I will have to lose her one day, and it will be forever... Well, it's just too much."

 "Not right now, Guillaume. You can feel sorry for yourself later. Now we talk about stopping Ramtin." I turned to Nakissa for support but she didn't look back to me. She stared out of the window, deep in thought. The sight of her like this put a pain in my heart, though I didn't know exactly why.

The garden in the Jinn compound is beautiful, and the statue I'm sitting beside is even more gorgeous. This majestic creature that is part eagle and part lion was to be my new stone form. I stroke the cold statue and am a little relieved at the decision I made earlier today.

It had been bothering me since the ride back from the airport, but listening to the story of Aude and Guillaume, I knew I had to do this. Now, all I have to do is to tell Garnier.

  I know much of the story now, and the heartbreak he's suffered with Marguerite and the last thing I want to give him is more suffering so I hope he understands. He has to understand that to make any other decision is to go back to who Nagissa was.

I see him in the distance. His dark blue jeans and untucked light pink dress shirt fit him perfectly. His hands are in his pockets but he walks quickly towards me. He's amazing.

Once the distance between us is closed, he takes me in his arms. They feel so strong and warm. This is where I belong. I wrap my own arms around his neck and put my lips to his. He smells so good and feels so good. I wish I had the time to stay like this forever.

We could be together forever.

I waste another moment like this. Regretting my decision, yet unable to unmake it. It is not our time yet. I pull away.

He places his hand on the statue's head. "Is this the form you will take?"

I bite my lip and shake my head. "No. I need to talk to you."

He sits on the nearby stone bench and motions for me to join him. I don't, but I watch him. I hope he can see how much I don't want to hurt him.

"We have to save Aude first."

"It would be easier to save her if you were in Gargoyle form."

"Maybe... or maybe not. I've been thinking about our plan and I think what we really need to defeat Ramtin is the element of surprise. If we save Aude first and I can use my own powers to train her how to use her really unique essence combination... and..." I look at my feet.

"And?"

"It makes more sense to change her."

He doesn't answer. "Garnier?"

"I thought maybe you were having doubts about taking Pareen's life. I thought maybe you wanted to wait a few years before becoming one of us again. But that's not it? You want to give this to Aude."

He leans in, his forearms resting on his knees, his hands clasped together. The ground in front of his feet has all of his attention. "This is about Guillaume taking something from me again," he whispers.

I take his hands in mine and he looks up to me.

"He's not taking anything," I say.

"Did he ask you to do this?"

"No. Of course not." I sit next to him. "Aude has less power than me as far as spiritual essence is concerned, but she has something else. Her native heritage allows her to manipulate natural essence too. This combination as a Gargoyle will be much more powerful. Maybe even more powerful than Ramtin. This can give us the advantage."

"But we still have to rescue Aude."

 "I have my power back and I've learned a thing or two over the past millennium. With Kateri's help, I can handle it."

"Kateri?"

"Shaman magic. I've encountered it before; I know a thing or two about it. I can help her and she can help me in turn."

"So that's it. You're going to leave me out of it and take off on your own to rescue Aude. Rescue her then give her the gift of immortality and leave me."

"Maybe we can still find a way for me. We know it's possible. Maybe there will be a new opportunity for me to go back to how I was. But not now."

I look at him until his eyes meet mine. "I feel it with everything inside of me. Now is not my time."

"What about what I want? I need you."

I pause. No one has ever needed me before. But isn't this why I have to do this? Because for the first time, many people need me. Aude is the better choice. She is the weaker witch but would be the stronger Gargoyle.

"You have me, Garnier. You have me as I am now, and this is who you could really fall for. When I was a Gargoyle, you were never able to get through to me the way you do now. This is better for us, too. I want to stay Nakissa. I can't lose myself and return to her."

"It wouldn't be like that. You'd still be you."

"But in a way it would be. Garnier, please understand. This is the best decision for everyone. You are strong. Much stronger than Guillaume. Guillaume and Aude need this."

"I am not that strong."

I put my arms around him and smile a sad smile to myself. This weakness is exactly what makes him stronger than anyone I know.

"I'm not strong. I lose everyone I love. I lost you before, and I'll lose you again. I can't take any more loss. Not so soon after Vincent."

"Shhh. You're not losing me."

"You don't know that. You plan to take on Ramtin with no one's help but a young shaman girl who doesn't know her powers. Vincent was fighting with better odds. He had us with him. He had the shamans with him. And still the stone monster killed him. Please. Don't let me lose you." He started to shake and I just held on to him tighter.

I wouldn't leave him. Not for a long time.

I'd feel better about this plan if Kateri wasn't looking at me so dubiously. "Try it," I tell her.

She closes her eyes and starts humming to herself. At first, nothing happens. "Don't give up," I tell her. "Open up your heart to the energy of the elements. Of the earth beneath your feet."

Her chanting becomes louder and louder. Though the essence of nature is connected to that of the soul, it is not something I, myself, am connected to. Still, as her chanting grows louder I swear I can feel it.

She stops and looks at me with her eyes wide.

"See, you could feel it, couldn't you?"

She nods.

I dig in my pocket and pull out a page I ripped out from an old book about mystical invocations. It hadn't been hard to find but it would have been useless for someone like me. "We will make a spell."

"A spell?"

I nod. "Yes, it is a very old thing."

"But I've never done my magic with spells before."

"The spell does not change your magic, it just helps it focus. You could figure out how to do the same thing without it, but it would take a lot more essence and a lot of time to figure it out."

I point to the house we are watching. The same large mansion we'd gone to for the party. I had followed Leyli's essence here. It was easy, now that my own essence is back. I give another thought to the necklace. Who had done that?

"First the birds," I say. "Then, the spell."

She hums louder and louder until she is chanting. This time the essence isn't tangible like when I had asked her to practice. This is a different way of summoning, a way I don't understand. But I don't have to wait long to see the effects. Clouds of birds fly towards us. They circle around us for a little while, and then start attacking the building. There are thousands of them diving from the sky. I want to stand and watch them but we don't have time.

"Okay, you need to really concentrate on the words I read out. Okay?"

She nods.

"And concentrate on me."

"Yes, hurry," she says nervously.

I read the words. They make little sense, but they aren't supposed to. They are more like a mathematical formula. Patterns that channel the magic of nature to do what we need it to do. To shift the very air around me to make me nearly invisible. Between the bird distraction and my camouflage I should be able to rescue Aude and Leyli.

At first nothing happens. Birds are still flying towards the house, but nothing else. I'm going to miss the opportunity. I recite the words again, this time lending them a thread of my own essence to somehow try and mingle with hers. I don't know if it helped or it just takes a while for the magic to happen, but I feel something different now. I look at my arms and legs but I can see myself perfectly clearly.

She stops the humming and I stop chanting. I will have to go without camouflage. We're out of time.

"Hurry up! I don't know how long it will hold," she says.

"But it didn't work."

"Of course it worked. I can barely see you. You are blurry, somehow. Now hurry up."

I run towards the house. People have gathered on the street to watch the spectacle. Good. They'll add to the diversion.

I start by climbing over the garden wall, and follow the string of essence I had latched to Leyli as soon as I'd figured out where she was. I don't have to look far. There is chaos in the gardens. Several young women stand together while birds fly around them. One girl throws her hands in the air a group of them falls from the sky.

I shudder.

Crouched against the garden wall, I sidestep slowly, not wanting to move too much and be spotted. I see Leyli but Aude isn't with her. My heart hurts at seeing my best friend and doing nothing for her but I have to get Aude first; she's the target. I spot her fairly easily thanks to the bright red strips in her hair. I continue my ninja walk in her direction.

When another group of birds fall from the sky, I use the confusion to grab her. She doesn't fight me but instead lets me take her to the wall. Her eyes are empty like a dead animal's. There is something wrong with her essence. She's hardly responsive. I need to get her out as fast as possible. I look to Leyli and send an essence feeler her way. She's better than Aude. Her type of essence doesn't come from inside, so she's not affected as badly. They can't drain her like they can Aude.

I hesitate for a moment more, but I know I have to leave her behind. I can't get Aude to climb the wall in her state and I certainly can't carry her over. I could levitate her but the amount of essence that would take would draw way too much attention. The entrance is about ten feet away and I know I just have to risk it. I pull Aude towards the entrance and she follows me without hurry. She almost falls a few times when I try to move too fast.

When we're finally at the door, it won't open. I push my weight against it a few times, but I have to use my essence to open it. The moment I unleash my power, a shrill noise sounds in my head. I set off some sort of alarm. I look back and see dozens of sets of eyes on me.

I push the door open with all my might and shove Aude outside. I start to pull her across the street but something freezes us. As if the air is too thick to keep moving. With every step I try to take, the air feels thicker and I seem weaker.

I can counter this. These are just annoying tricks to someone with my experience. I close my eyes and search within myself. I see the holes. The places where I'm weak. The places they've latched on to. I concentrate on them and let my essence unwind and fill these holes. I block them. But the air is still thick. I still can't force us through.

And they're coming closer. I try to shield us and raise my arms over my head. Just then, the ground starts trembling. I know I didn't do it. And from the reaction of those chasing me, they didn't either. This is Kateri's magic. She's given me a window and I grab it. I run towards her, dragging Aude with me, and we rush into Garnier's rental car, slamming the doors and stepping on the gas.

We are free for now. I have found success. But for what? So that I can give everything up to Aude? I didn't even rescue Leyli.

The garden's peacefulness contrasted starkly with the beating in my heart. I didn't want to do this. She had convinced me it was the right thing, but I didn't want to do the right thing. I passed by the peaceful fountain and watched the water cascade as essence would.

How could she not want to live forever? How could I not take it personally? She had refused the chance to be with me forever.

She stood in the same spot she had been in when she told me the news. This time, she wasn't alone. Guillaume held Aude close to him and whispered in her ear. Pareen stood near them, still dauntingly beautiful. How could this creature cease to exist because of us?

I approached them slowly, letting the serenity calm my nerves. Taking deep breaths to prevent the tears forming in my eyes.

I joined Nakissa and she looked at me with eyes wide with emotion.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded.

"But what about us?"

She put her hand in mine and stretched out to rest her chin on my shoulder. "We have lots of time to figure it out," she said.

"We just lost eternity."

She shrugged. "Don't think of it this way."

"How should I react?"

"You could hug me."

I wrapped my arms around her and we watched Aude and Guillaume together. Aude was back to normal now that she was away from Ramtin. Nothing a little rest and essence couldn't fix. And soon, she would be better than normal.

Pareen came towards us and I hugged Nakissa closer to me. Her hair smelled of cherry, her body was warm as she leaned into me.

"You'll have to perform the ceremony," Pareen said to Nakissa.

"Thank you, Pareen."

"I have lived long enough. Just as you have chosen to live a finite existence, I have too."

 Nakissa nodded.

"It's time."

Nakissa detached herself from my arms and walked to the middle of the garden where Aude and the statue waited.

"Is it going to hurt?" Aude asked.

"No, not really," Nakissa answered. Aude knelt on the ground and held on to the statue, while Pareen stood behind her, holding on to Aude's shoulders.

Guillaume and Aude exchanged a smile and my stomach flipped in jealousy. Why did Guillaume always get everything he wanted?

Why couldn't I, for once, get what I want?

Nakissa gave me a small smile of her own and then turned her attention to the scene at hand. They stood still for a while and at first I didn't think anything was happening, but then I felt it. So much essence permeated the air around us; it pushed me to my knees.

Away from the center of the garden, Kateri and Old Man Robert began to dance in circles and chant and the air became clearer. I felt less sick. Antoine came towards me and placed his hand on my shoulder.

"She's special."

"Yes, she is a witch."

"I meant more than that. She has such strong love and compassion. What she is giving up right now is not something many people would give up."

"I know. I don't understand why she'd leave me."

Antoine searched me with his eyes. Then he smiled slowly. "I think she is giving you exactly what you need."

"What is that?"

"The girl you fell in love with."

I considered his words for a moment while watching her. Were Nagissa the Gargoyle and Nakissa the girl so different? Would she be able to remain herself if she went back to being a Gargoyle? She had been Nagissa for so long, while Nakissa had only existed for sixteen years. Maybe the girl was what I needed.

The scene in front of me hadn't changed much and with the shamans absorbing the essence into the elements, the air didn't even feel different anymore. So, it was a big surprise when suddenly Pareen began unraveling. Her fiery essence like bright orange ribbons faded into blue and disintegrated into the air.

Pareen no longer existed, and, with her, Aude had also disappeared. Now Nakissa would have to wake her. Just as Aude had woken us from the church tower in Montreal what seemed like a lifetime ago.

 Nakissa fell to her knees and Aude began changing. First into the magnificent mythological creature of her statue, and then into herself. Small, beautiful Aude. Standing naked in front of us. The same girl who had woken us and Guillaume's heart, yet now an immortal creature.

Our family of Gargoyles was back up to four.

I'm tired. The ritual drained me, not only physically and mentally, but also emotionally, but we can't waste time. What we've performed here has shifted the balance of power and we have to act while we still have the element of surprise. Ramtin has enough witches, mystics, and small time Jinn that he could make a few Gargoyles if he felt threatened.

We pile into two cars. Aude and Guillaume come with me since Garnier says he can't face Guillaume yet. The other three ride with Garnier.

I speed through the streets of south Tehran and up to the north, avoiding the pedestrians and random motorcycles that seem to come out of nowhere.

"Thank you," Aude says, "for everything."

I smile at her from the rear view mirror. It was my choice, but I'm a little on edge. A little bitter.

I slow down as I pass a man leading several camels into town. "That's weird."

The old man dressed in desert garb turns to look at me. He gives me a huge toothless grin and his eyes glow orange. Instinctively, I look to his feet. He has camel feet. He's a desert Jinni.

"What is this guy doing in the city? Something is happening."

The other two look out the window but say nothing. Flocks of bird swirl over Ramtin's house. I'm pretty certain that Kateri had nothing to do with them this time. "Are they expecting us?" I whisper.

But the birds start falling from the sky, just as they did yesterday and I shudder. Because I can feel that the birds are different this time. I know if I was closer, I would see their eyes burning. The Jinn hadn't waited for us. They have brought the war here already. My hands tremble on the steering wheel. I'm not ready for this.

I stop the car. "We should walk from here."

Garnier parks beside me. "What's going on with the birds?"

"They aren't really birds."

"What's going on?"

"The Jinn are amassing. They've started a war."

"Maybe we can just wait and see who wins," Kateri says.

The thought is tempting. But I know this is the time to fight. I know Ramtin needs to be stopped, and this is our opportunity. The Jinn won't stop him. They are too easily distracted, too consumed by their own war. This is no longer about Ramtin for them.

"We have to go in."

Garnier holds my hand and gives me a firm nod. I can't resist; I wrap my arms around his neck and put my head against his chest. He lifts up my chin so I am looking right in his eyes.

"We've got this." His words are barely more than a breath.

I press my lips against his and tighten my arms around him. He holds my waist and pulls me closer to him. Fire spreads over me. I feel desperate for him. It's my fear, my love, my anger, my pain, my sense of belonging with him, all mingling into one irresistible emotion. But this isn't the right time. It takes everything I have but I start pushing him away. He takes a deep breath.

"We will be alright," he whispers to me. He turns to the others. "We will be okay. Let's go."

They nod to each other, but I see the pain in their eyes. They've already lost too much. Hand in hand, we march towards the fray. The chaos around us stops me in my tracks. I've never seen anything like it. Creatures of all sorts, both unbearably beautiful and unbearably ugly fight each other with tooth, nail, weapons, and magic. There is no sense or logic. I spot Ramtin immediately. He's in the middle of them all, in Gargoyle form. He pounces and snarls and I can't help but think he's having a good time. The other creatures can't get close to him. I send out a probing strand of essence and immediately it bounces back. Someone is holding a protective spell over him.

The Gargoyles jump into the fight while the shamans stay well away so they can dance and chant their spells of protection. I'm alone. I look longingly to Garnier and wish I could join him, but I know I'm most powerful this way. I'm also more vulnerable, but I already feel the Earth magic surrounding me. I nod my thanks to Kateri and her grandfather who are keeping an eye on me. The Gargoyles must be communicating through mind voice because they attack in an organized manner. Other creatures join their side and aid them. I'm shut out.

I have a purpose though. I have to find the witches protecting Ramtin. Then, I can drain him. My purpose is the most important. I couldn't have left it in Aude's hands.

Still, I feel cheated.

I walk around the perimeter of the battle. A few creatures come at me, but I drain them quickly. I focus the essence into my known allies. I'm not aligned with them as if I was a de Rouen witch, only with Aude, who is my creation. Still, I could give them all essence, though it wouldn't be concentrated like it would be were I aligned with them. I focus on Aude.

Aude is my creature. I hadn't realized this would happen, but it makes sense. I can use my mind voice with her. I tell her that she is still a de Rouen witch and she can disperse the essence to the boys and I leave them in her hands.

My task lies elsewhere. I continue looking for the witches, casting my essence here and there. They have to be somewhere safe. It's difficult because I keep on getting interrupted and I don't even have a weapon to defend myself with. Other than my mind, that is.

A larger Jinni comes at me and I concentrate on him. His essence is bound up a different way. I don't know how to untie it. I back away from him but he keeps coming towards me. I trip and two more Jinn notice me. None of the ones fighting on our side have noticed me.

_'Aude!'_  I call in my mind voice.

But I hear nothing back. I lash out with my essence at one of the other Jinn and manage to unravel his immediately. He melts and bubbles and is absorbed into the ground. I keep his essence around myself as a barrier. But it does little. The hooked and clawed creature lashes out at me physically. It tears the skin off my arms and I fall back to the ground, still trying to get away. I press my hand over the wound to stop the bleeding but the wound is more than a physical one and I begin to feel weakened. I grab him with my essence but he's too slippery. Too much in control. Where are my protectors when I need them?

_'Aude!'_  Why was I left alone?

Suddenly there is a release in the pressure on my arm. A small stone griffon is fighting the Jinni in front of me. He's getting a good beating but it's enough to distract the creature from attacking me. Enough that his barrier is gone and I find a small way in before he knows to protect himself.

His essence makes me sick. I hold on to it even as I double over to retch on the floor. I pick myself up off the ground and yank his essence right into me to heal myself. The Jinni ignites and disappears into smokeless flames. Deleer is already pouncing on the next one but he's hurt and limping badly. I try to stream essence into him, but I hit stone. He's protecting himself too well and I don't have an inside path since he's not my familiar.

I worry about Aude and the others. We shouldn't have divided. It seems so obvious now.

I send my essence into attacking the last Jinn and he unravels like the other two. The sooner I can get to the witches, and hopefully to Leyli, the sooner we can end this thing.

Deleer stays close to me. I'm not actually alone after all. As I get to the walls of the compound, I feel them. There is so much power there that every creature that comes within a five foot radius of that spot disintegrates. Leyli is in a group of witches standing in front of the wall. She isn't fighting. Actually, she isn't even moving. The witches standing on top of the wall control the show. And right now, I can't get to them. I need a distraction. I look to Deleer but sending him to the witches would be the same as sending him to his death. Can I do this to him?

Can I sacrifice another life for the sake of humanity? The answer should be yes, but I'm not so sure I can do it. The part of me that is a sixteen-year-old girl just cannot come to terms with it. Deleer decides to take things in his own paws and pounces towards the witches. I use my essence to block him.

"Come on boy. I have another plan." I need to find Kateri.

I go back outside the rough limits of the fighting zone and find the shamans still dancing and chanting. Their arms are spread wide and I can feel the energy they are channeling.

"I need the ground to tremble," I say. "But not right away."

I point to the spot from which the witches are holding down the fort. They aren't visible from here. "Once I am near there, I need the wall to come down. Is that possible?"

Kateri turns to Old Man Robert. "The two of us together can do that, but it will leave the Gargoyles vulnerable for a few minutes."

I squint my eyes to try to spot Garnier through the fray. I can't see him. Another decision I have to make. Another possible sacrifice. I bite my lip but nod my head. "This is important. But return their protection as soon as you can."

I whistle to Deleer and we run back towards the wall together. I love this dog. I send him a thread of warm essence and he returns the emotion by rubbing himself against my leg and nearly tripping me.

We are intercepted along the way by a few Jinn and some minor stone creatures but I dispel them quickly. I remain well out of the witches' radius and wait for the shamans to do their thing.

I don't have to wait long. The earthquake knocks me off my feet. As it does everyone else. The moment the wall begins to crumble, I leap up and jump on the witches. I punch a blonde girl in the face while Deleer pins another one. I recite a few spells and mantras under my breath to concentrate my magic and render them immobile. I wish I could just drain them, but they are too well protected and I have to hurry.

Anyway, I know they're not all evil, so they can sort it all out amongst themselves once Ramtin is no longer able to control them. Ramtin is my priority. That and saving Leyli. I grab her by the arms and she follows me in the same passive manner Aude used the previous day. Except that instead of having a few witches on my butt, this time I have about two dozen Jinn. And they have all shifted their focus to me. Luckily the good Jinn and Gargoyles have also shifted their focus.

I pull Leyli towards Kateri and Old Man Robert, narrowly escaping several creatures. Once Leyli's safe, I turn to face them. I keep my hands on my hips and scan the crowd to find Ramtin. I place a large essence marker on his head so everyone can find him. Then I begin to probe him with my essence, looking for any opening to let me in. But he is as solid as rock. The Gargoyles attack him but he throws them off effortlessly.

I clench my fists tightly and try to find a weakness. In the centuries I've known him he's never shown weakness. There was a long time when I thought I could be his weakness, but he dispelled that when he tried to kill me. I had loved him in the only way I had known to love, then. I had competed with him to be worthy. And he'd not only pushed me away at every turn, he'd tried to dispose of me. My anger starts bubbling to the surface, slowly simmering and turning into rage. My very essence shifts and turns. It no longer is cool and tingling, it burns like a smokeless fire.

Every Jinn, good, bad, and those who were neither but simply wanted a fight, move away when I walk past. They move away and then disappear back to wherever Jinn go to when they no longer want to be part of our world.

Before long, the only ones who still stand are the witches and the Gargoyles. Deleer still remains on my heel.

I can't control my furry. Essence blows all around me like orange flames. My hair flickers with it. Ramtin transforms to his human shape and I ignore his nakedness. His perfect body.

His smile is sad. "I'd hoped you could find it again."

"Find what?"

"The power you had before you were a Gargoyle."

"What are you talking about?"

"You were not only the best court musician and the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, you were also the most powerful witch I had ever encountered. And you weren't even aware of it."

"I..." I don't know what to say. He's trying to trick me. I force myself to stay steady. I force myself not to let my fury fade. I send out my essence towards him again and find him strangely vulnerable. Does he think I'm so stupid that I've fallen for his words? Does he think he doesn't have to protect himself?

I press on and find the loose place everyone has inside of them. The place you can pull and rip their soul from them. But something else gets my attention. His essence isn't completely corrupted. Under the bad stuff, it's pure. Are all people like this? I proceed with more caution. It has to be a trick. I unravel his essence and I see some of his soul.

He drops to his knees but I continue.

I find his anger. I find his thirst for power. I find his jealousy. I feel the pain he inflicts as well as the pain that has been inflicted on him. Under everything, there is fear. Fear of rejection. Fear of not being good enough. Fear of being nobody. This man wanted to end the world as we know it because he felt he had something to prove. I unravel slower and slower, letting the essence disperse in the air. It seems wrong to give it to somebody else.

And then I see something that makes me pause. I see myself. I see me like he saw me. I kneel in front of him and try to lift his chin up to face me. I don't understand what I see in his soul. I don't understand how this man could have both hated me for so long and loved me so much at the same time. I place my hands on his cheeks and keep his eyes level with mine. I continue to pull away his essence. I continue to kill the monster I had created.

Tears roll down my cheeks but I don't stop them. I don't stop anything. I know he's too far gone to save. The people he has killed to try to impress me won't come back to life when he is gone, but no one else can be his victim again. I'm letting him go mercifully and with love.

All these years, I had been the one with the power. When I thought he'd pushed me away, I had been the one pushing him away. When I thought he was getting rid of me, he was the one who saved me. He was the one who wanted me to find my true power again. The locket was all him. He wanted me to leave my stone restraints. Nagissa the Gargoyle had been hard.

My strength lies in the same place as Garnier's. It lies in my weakness.

When I pull the last thread of power from him, I soothe him with my own as I let him go. "Thank you," I whisper with my words and with my soul.

Ramtin did a lot of misguided things, and most of them I may never understand. But beneath them all was love. I watch him crumble into dust. An unnatural breeze picks up and carries him away until I am kneeling in front of nothing. I stand up and face the others, not bothering to hide my tears. This is not the time to be strong. This is a time for weakness.

I smoothed out a few wrinkles from my white dress shirt and turned to Guillaume before pressing the buzzer to be let in to the building.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

I shrugged. I didn't know how I was feeling. A million emotions coursed through me. The main one was obvious since I was there to say goodbye.

Aude, Kateri and Old Man Robert stayed a few steps behind, respecting my need for space. The girls held flowers while Old Man Robert was carrying a few boxes of sweets. We weren't only there to say goodbye, we were there to help Nakissa and her family ring in the New Year. Nowruz was supposed to be about new beginnings but everything about it felt like an end.

We were let in to the building and headed for the elevator. Aude gave me a sympathetic smile and for a moment I forgot to be bitter towards her. Everything was working out perfectly for Guillaume and her while Nakissa had refused to even talk to me until today.

After we were let in and kissed our hosts on both cheeks, we removed our shoes and sat on the sofa. On the table in front of us was an abundance of sweets, pastries and fresh fruit. Another table in the corner of the room proudly displayed the traditional New Year elements.

Nakissa came into the room and her presence stopped my breath. The ends of her straight hair curled and bounced. Her eyes were still wide, but they seemed more cat-shaped. Her mouth was set in a straight serious line. She was a different person. Powerful and humble. The best combination of her two incarnations. But there was sadness in her eyes. It was that sadness that softened her power. Deleer followed close on her heel. His tail wagged as if he was thrilled that today he didn't have to be anything other than a normal dog.

In my peripheral vision, Antoine, old Man Robert and Nakissa's parents discussed politics, while Kateri talked to Ebi about music. Aude and Guillaume sometimes chimed in to either conversation but were much more invested into each other.

I couldn't hold on to the bitterness. They were happy. Simply, uncomplicatedly happy. I couldn't have that with Nakissa. Not now, maybe not ever. But it wasn't their fault.

Leyli, her brother Mehran, Davood, and the members of Farâsoo joined us for lunch. We ate from a table filled with different dishes. Many of these I'd already enjoyed during my stay in this country. The main platter was a fish traditionally prepared for the New Year. Another symbol of a new beginning.

I looked to Nakissa and wondered if we would ever get a chance for a beginning. Everyone around me was getting just that. In a way, with Ramtin gone, the whole world was getting a new beginning. Shouldn't that be enough to celebrate?

After our lunch, Nakissa performed a piece on the harp and my heart threatened to break all over again. She finished her song and looked at me.

"Can we go for a walk?" Her voice was so human. So normal. Just the Nakissa I knew.

We walked side by side to the nearby park. Sometimes, for short moments, our hands touched. She pointed out the signs of spring blooming all over Tehran.

"Look at this flower." She knelt on the sidewalk next to a small shoot that grew sheltered by a garden wall.

"It's beautiful."

"Its life is just beginning, Garnier."

She stood up so she was facing me and took my hands in hers. I'd seen many couples do this here, but I also knew it could get us in trouble. I didn't care.

"We are just beginning too," she said. "Just like this flower grew underground as it suffered through the winter, we have some growing to do too. But we will see the spring."

I let go of her hands but didn't move away. "So what happens now?" I asked.

She smiled. "I'm not ready for a relationship but it doesn't mean I'm not ready for a kiss."

And so I took her in my arms, in the middle of a street in Tehran, not giving a damn about who watched us and what they would say or do. I took her and I kissed her long and hard so that even once I returned to Canada and she stayed behind, she would still taste my feelings on her lips.

When I finally did let go of her, I placed my hand under her chin. "You're right. This is the beginning."

**THE END**

####  Acknowledgements

There are so many people without whom this book wouldn't be what it is.

First, I would like to thank my sister, Eve Harvey. She has always been my first reader and most enthusiastic cheerleader. She is also the photographer extraordinaire who took my author photo and who wasted an afternoon working on a photo shoot for a gorgeous cover photo that we didn't end up using.

This brings me to the second photographer extraordinaire in my life, my good friend Ewa Krupinska who stepped in to solve the cover photo emergency. I also have to give a special thanks to the very sweet Maryam Amiri, who is my gorgeous cover model. She answered a call I made looking for my new Nakissa and she was perfect. Her gorgeous makeup was the work of Rashin Maleki. I am lucky to know so many talented people.

I also want to thank the people who have always jumped at any chance to help me, whether it be with beta reading, helping with research or simply being my cheerleaders when I needed it. Most specifically Dawn Miller, Jamie Blair, Kelly Scriven, and Astrid Novak.

I have to single out Kaitlin Ward for having been my angel for the past few years. I have learned more from her than anyone else. From her wonderful yet deadly axe without which I would be even more long-winded, to her emotional support (whether it be publishing related or not), I couldn't have a better friend at my side.

To Heather Bowie Hejduk and her daughter Ani, I have to give a special thank you. Not only are they a wonderful team of copyeditors, but Ani's energy has been one of the bright lights that has supported me through some of my darkest periods of self-doubt.

Speaking of which, I want to thank my grandmother whose lovely handwritten note she wrote me about how she enjoyed Redemption, I keep posted at my writing desk to re-read when I need an extra push.

I also want to give thanks to Brian Farrey at Flux. Though we have parted ways, his enthusiasm for my debut REDEMPTION (2012), and the hard work he has put on it, has taught me a lot.

Writing a book set in a country I'd never stepped foot in was very intimidating. I want to thank all the people who helped me with research or just chatted with me about their home. There are too many people to name, but a few stand out specifically: Arya Afshar, Mostafa Razavi, Maryam Azadeh and her husband Ali Fatolahi. These people have become so, so much more to me than just research.

Siamak Afshar, thank you for being the best research assistant and for dropping everything to answer whenever I texted you with random questions.

I want to thank all of the Iranian musicians who attempted to communicate with me. Two specifically come to mind; Hossein Mokhte who actually video chatted with me, and Arash Kheiri from Abroft. Though the language barrier made it very difficult, I did learn a lot from our interactions. Such as how approachable these people are.

And speaking of music, there are two bands without whom this book could not have been written, Abroft who I listened to solely while writing DELIVERANCE's outline, and Zed Bazi. Though both these bands are very different, to me, they both represented the urban feel of metropolitan Iran.

I want to give a very special thank you to my daughters who don't always enjoy having mommy working on the computer so long, and to my readers who are the reason all this work is worth it.

#### About the Author

###### _Photo  ©Eve Harvey Photography_

If you were to look up random in the dictionary, you might find a picture of Véronique. This Montreal native is a single mother to two adorable young girls and a servant to two feline companions. She is also an avid reader, a dreamer, and a hopeless romantic. Her somewhat obsessive personality is often the subject of jokes amongst her family and friends, but it has served her well; she would never have written a book without it. She is studying everything Iranian from the language, to the history, to the cuisine – another side effect to her obsessive personality – and she likes to dance (usually in the kitchen).

Connect with me online:

Twitter:  <http://twitter.com/vlaunier>  
Facebook  <http://facebook.com/vlaunier>  
Smashwords:  <https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/vlaunier>  
My website: http://www.veroniquelaunier.com

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