I had been staring at my coffee for three minutes when the door creaked open. 

The curl of the steam was so familiar, the gentle warmth leaching through the ceramic and into my hands such a human sensation. I wasn't ready to shatter the careful self-deception I'd created. 

I breathed in the almost intoxicating scent. Freshly ground. Just a dash of cream swirled in. There had never been a more perfect cup of coffee set before me. I sighed and lowered the mug, losing myself once more in its twisting tendrils of steam.  

Behind me, the door creaked closed. The other man didn't say anything, but I could feel his concerned eyes pricking at the back of my head.

I twisted my body so our eyes could meet, forcing out a smile for him. In this place, his skin was unhidden, red as an overripe tomato. Raghnall, my guide, my new roommate, the one who gave me this coffee. His curly hair fell a little in his eyes as they searched mine.

I brought the mug up to my lips and drank. When he caught sight of my frown, his face fell.

"Did I pick up the wrong one?" Raghnall glided over to the seat next to me. "I knew I should've written it down, human drinks have gotten so complicated--"

"No, Raghnall, it's fine. You," I sighed, "you did it perfectly."

"Then what's wrong?"

I stared at the brown liquid as it spun in slow circles around the mug. "It didn't taste the same. There was no bite, no rush, it was like I wasn't tasting it in real time, like I was--"

"Like you were only remembering what it's supposed to taste like." Raghnall took the cup from my hands and rose.

His clothes still perplexed me. He wore a black tunic to mid-thigh made of a canvas-like material that shimmered, but only in the moonlight. On his legs and arms were wrappings, also in black. They had tiny, silver symbols scrawled on them near the seams. When Raghnall wasn't looking, I tried to read them, but they weren't English, or any other language I'd ever seen. And the wrappings changed, like he did them by hand each morning. 

He looked like he belonged in the desert, or an ancient Egyptian Tomb, or Tatooine. 

"It's because you don't need it. We're not meant to eat their food, or drink their coffee." He was in the kitchen now, rinsing out the mug and placing it back in the cabinet. "I know the transition's been hard on you, Hedwynn, but it will get better." Raghnall sat back down next to me. "I promise."

I held out my hands and examined them. Most of the time, I didn't feel any different. The freckle on the back of my hand was still there. I could still feel the breeze dance across my skin through the open window. I was still me. 

But, there were small things. Little things you wouldn't notice if distracted. The tone of my skin had changed. Not as dramatically as Raghnall's, of course, but just under my skin the veins weren't blue anymore.

They were gold. 

"Raghnall, it's been five days. I'm still not hungry, I'm not tired, I'm not thirsty." I dropped my hands into my lap. "Should I be worried?"

"You'll get hungry." Raghnall's eyes had slipped to something out the window. "Just give it time."

I followed his gaze to find four genie-men, laughing as they strolled together down the lilac-colored street. Raghnall hadn't left his--our--house in five days, except once to get coffee for me and once when he thought I was asleep. Genies aren't meant to be alone. He'd said it in a sad way, the first day of my new life. That's why the all-genie keeps us in pairs. That's why it's gonna be you and me from now on.

I tapped his foot with mine to get his attention. "You should be out there, with your people. I'll be fine."

"Our people." Then he laughed, "and you would not be fine. Last night, you sneezed and ended up stuck to the ceiling."

"Okay, that was not my fault. You blew pollen in my face." 

Raghnall pushed himself up and made it over to the corner where a pile of folded blankets had been tossed. "And what about the night before? You said 'I wish I had a chili cheese dog' and magicked a cheesy chili-creature into existence."

"Also not my fault."

Now Raghnall was spreading out the blanket on a mat on the floor, carefully tucking in the corners and smoothing out the folds. "What about how you immediately summoned a poor hotdog vendor here after I cleaned up the chili-dog you made?" 

"Yeah, that one was on me."

I threw Raghnall one of the chair pillows, and the bed was complete. Sunlight was still streaming in through the open windows, lighting up Raghnall's forest-green eyes and the matching green gem he wore on a cord around his neck. The red genie continued to busy himself, straightening the objects scattered across the wood table, closing the drapes one-by-one.

"His name was Jon." When I called out, Raghnall paused, curtain in one hand, discarded hotdog bun in the other. "The 'poor hotdog vendor,' his name was Jon. And you didn't have to send him away so quickly, we're friends. Or, we were, before..."

Raghnall finished drawing the curtain shut and crushed the bun in his hand, dissolving it into green vapor. 

"This isn't a place for humans."

"I know that--"

"This is a place for genies. If he'd never entered into contract with a genie before, his mind wouldn't have been able to handle all this." 

Raghnall had gestured out the last open window. Sprawled on a breath-taking hillside were dozens and dozens of buildings, each more impossible than the next. There was a bungalow made of candy. A floating aquarium. Twin skyscrapers shaped like spirals. One tower even looked to be made of live birds. 

The roads that snaked between them were pastel purple and Raghnall had said the grass felt like velvet underfoot. Each tree's leaves changed daily, moving from red to orange to yellow to pink to purple, like sunsets. And the sky, well, there was no sky. Only swirling fog lit with an eerie periwinkle glow.

And there, up on the top of the hill sat a palace. It stretched up into the fog, the tops of its towers obscured. I had never seen something so beautiful. The exterior walls were iridescent. Like Cinderella's palace. Like a large, castle-shaped pearl. 

Whenever I caught a glimpse of that palace on the horizon, I felt a tug within me and my feet twitched, ready to walk me there. Raghnall had explained that it was the pull of the all-genie, our great and powerful leader, that compelled my feet to move. 

I felt the same urge in that moment, staring out at the hillside. I wanted to walk the streets, to sit at the all-genie's feet, to grow my power, to--

Raghnall shut the final curtain; the room sunk into darkness.

"Come on, it's time." I could just make out his form as it gestured to the floor-bed.

My mind continued to spin as I let my eyes adjust. Raghnall frequently gave me reassurances that I was taking the transition well, that it would get better soon. In the moment though, I couldn't stop thinking about that coffee, about the world I'd left behind. 

Raghnall watched me as I took off my tie and climbed under the covers. The sheets were silky, and I could feel them. I could feel them. I could feel them. 

"It's only for a few more nights." Raghnall draped another blanket over me. "Then you can start staying awake with us."

"Still not tired," I said, watching him move the chairs so I wouldn't trip on them when I woke up, "still no circadian rhythm."

"It's easier on your body this way. Your body doesn't realize it's a genie yet, that it can harness energy, that it can use magic. You've weaned off food, that's a good step, but think about it. You've got a lifetime of muscle-memory to undo. Take it slow."

Raghnall crouched down next to me, his smile barely visible in the low light.

I looked away. "Thank you for being so kind to me while I get on my feet."

"I told you, it's gonna be me and you from now on." Raghnall reached out and gently touched the middle of my forehead. "Now, sleep."

The last thing I saw before drifting off was the soft glint of Raghnall's necklace as it disappeared behind the green vapor spreading steadily across my form.  

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