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    Genie vs. Djinn: Zimmah Chronicles
    Genie vs. Djinn: Zimmah Chronicles
    Genie vs. Djinn: Zimmah Chronicles
    Ebook145 pages2 hours

    Genie vs. Djinn: Zimmah Chronicles

    By Scott King

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    About this ebook

    Out of Control Wishes Destroy San Francisco!

    Dinosaurs. Butterfly volcanoes. Buildings made of Jello– If someone can wish it, it’s happening. Unable to access his own powers, Zimmah, must rely on Karim and Whitney’s help to stop the madness.

    This is the epic conclusion to the Zimmah Chronicles trilogy. Will Karim see his parents again? Will Whitney's mother get better? Will Zimmah get his powers back? The fate of the world hangs in balance and not everyone can be saved.

    If you like coming-of-age adventure stories that teach important life lessons in the wackiest, most delightful of ways, then you’ll love every page of Scott King’s Genie vs. Djinn.

    Start the unpredictable adventure today!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMajestic Arts
    Release dateDec 17, 2015
    ISBN9781518855122
    Genie vs. Djinn: Zimmah Chronicles

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      Book preview

      Genie vs. Djinn - Scott King

      Chapter 1

      NOW.

      They had done it, Whitney thought. After escaping the unicorns and mermaids, they had managed to get home. Now, Karim was going to use his last wish to free Zimmah the genie, who used to be a djinn.

      She had known Karim for a little over a day, but in that time they had faced more than most people face in a lifetime. Their torn and dirty clothes were proof of that, and as much as she wanted to take a hot shower and put on something comfy, her highest priority was finding Gramps to let him know she was okay. And then she was going to visit her mother at the hospital. But first they needed to set Zimmah free and put an end to this. Use the wish. Free him, she said.

      Karim looked down at the embossed medicine bottle. Get out here.

      A rosy glow formed in the center of the bottle, and a thin trail of pink smoke slid from it. The smoke swirled and took on the shape of Zimmah, a wiry man with a thin goatee and spiky, eggplant-colored hair. He wore a double-breasted white suit that somehow always managed to be wrinkle free. An Egyptian necklace with runes stamped into it fanned out across his chest.

      Look here, Zimmah said. If you even for a second think you are going to back-stab me, then just know that I am basically immortal. Even if I can’t get revenge now, I will haunt you and your kin for the rest of your lives. I’ll make sure that not only does every single one of your descendants have gluten allergies, I’ll make it so that everything they eat tasks like rotten cheese mixed with dog poop. I’ll—

      Oh, shush, Karim said. I’m going to free you. It’s what Whitney wants.

      Zimmah straightened up and ran his hands across his chest as if brushing crumbs away. Well then, that’s more like it.

      Cupping the bottle in his hands, Karim closed his eyes and spoke. I wish you were free and with your own kind again.

      The necklace resting against Zimmah’s chest hovered in the air. It glowed, and sparks shot from its surface, raining harmlessly to the floor below. A wailing siren sounded, and then the necklace snapped free from Zimmah’s neck, flew outward, and smashed the front door off its hinges.

      That is not what is supposed to happen! Zimmah cursed.

      Whitney ran to follow the necklace. Instead of passing through Zimmah’s ghostly body, she ran straight into him, knocking him over so that they both rolled out the front door and onto the steps of the townhouse.

      Breaking free, she got back to her feet in time to see the glowing necklace shoot into the sky. A moment later, an orb of light appeared over downtown San Francisco.

      Oh, no, Zimmah muttered.

      What? Whitney asked. What’s happening?

      The light grew into a supernova, forcing them all to shield their eyes. When they looked again, there was a hole in the sky above the downtown skyscrapers. The hole expanded, twisting, forming a whirlpool of magical light. From it emerged what looked like a dust cloud. No, not a cloud, Whitney thought. It was a swarm. A swarm of hundreds of things exiting a portal.

      It figures, Zimmah said. After mocking Whitney for so long, of course you’d screw up by badly wording a wish.

      I wished you free, and I tried to send you home. What did I screw up? Karim asked.

      Those, my moronic friend, are djinn, Zimmah said. You wished for me to be with my own kind, so here they come.

      Whitney sighed. She had thought their adventure was over, that she had managed to right the wrongs she had caused. But now the kids in her class, Gramps, Moms, and all of people in San Francisco she didn’t know were in danger.

      What are we going to do? Karim asked.

      We stop them. Whitney watched as hundreds of djinn fell upon the city. Though, just curious, on a scale of like zero to ten how bad is this?

      See for yourself. Zimmah pointed across the street. Gramps, Whitney’s grandfather, stepped off the curb. He looked like he hadn’t slept. He didn’t seem to notice the onslaught of djinn raining down on the city. He wore jeans and a flannel shirt, and his back brace and work tool kit were still wrapped around his waist.

      A creature the size of a squirrel stood in front of Gramps. It was naked, and not a single follicle of hair stuck out of its smooth, moldy-looking skin. It had pointed ears like an elf or goblin, and a devilish grin revealed two rows of sharpened teeth.

      The thing made a clicking, chittering sound with its tongue and teeth. In response, six more creatures appeared from a storm drain.

      What are those? Whitney asked.

      Those are ghuls, Zimmah said. One of the three kinds of djinn.

      The first ghul waited until Gramps was about to step on it, but then it hopped aside. As it did, it moved its hands in a quick blur, untying the laces to Gramps’ steel-toed boots and stringing them together.

      The other six ghuls lifted a blue recycling bin off the curb. They flipped it sideways and held it above their heads, aiming to throw it.

      Gramps, stop! Whitney yelled.

      Gramps looked at her. His sullen face lifted and his eyes widened. Where have you been?

      The pack of ghuls threw the recycle bin. It rolled directly at Gramps. When he stepped out of the way, his shoe laces caught, tripping him. Being quick, even at his age, he caught himself with his hands as if doing a push-up. As he did, the bin smashed into his face. He let out a grunt and rolled onto his back.

      A brown minivan crested the hill at the end of their street, but in the opposite lane from where Gramps was sprawled. The ghuls lifted a second recycle bin, aiming not for Gramps but the van, and threw it. The van swerved, crossed the solid yellow line in the middle of the road, and headed right for Gramps.

      Whitney rushed into the road, swinging her arms and yelling. The van’s driver honked their horn at her, but safely maneuvered back to the proper side of the street.

      The ghuls surrounded Whitney, hissing at her.

      Back the heck up, or I’ll wreck you. She stomped her foot at the nearest ghul.

      Whit, what’s going on? Gramps sat up, rubbing his palms. Who are you talking to?

      You can’t see them? Whitney motioned to the seven ghuls.

      See what? Gramps stood. A concerned looked crawled across his face. Are you feverish? We need to get you to the hospital.

      Zimmah! Whitney clamped her hand around Gramps’ wrist and dragged him to the front lawn of their house. Gramps looked at Karim curiously, but didn’t seem to notice Zimmah. Something’s wrong with Gramps. He can’t see the djinn.

      Zimmah. Gramps reached out to shake Karim’s hand. I’d like to know where you have been with my granddaughter.

      I’m not Zimmah, Karim said.

      Zimmah waved a hand in front of Gramps’ face. The elderly man didn’t see him. I’ve heard of this, but I’ve never witnessed it.

      What’s happening? Whitney asked. What’s wrong with him?

      Gramps dropped to one knee to make eye contact with her. He touched her cheek. Whitney dear, you aren’t making sense, and it’s scaring me.

      Oh no, no, no, Karim muttered. Is everyone else in the city like him? If so, that’s very bad and very dangerous. It’s hard enough dealing with djinn when you can see them, but if they’re invisible? That’s bad.

      Sparkles, the unicorn, neighed from inside Whitney’s house. He was trying to squeeze through the front door, but was too big. A moment later his translucent spiraled horn glowed hot and he teleported from inside the house to standing right next to Karim. Reunited with the group, Sparkles tilted his head, placing his horn across Gramps’ shoulder as if knighting the old man.

      Gramps jumped back in surprise. His eyes darted from Zimmah to Sparkles. Where in tarnation did you two come from?

      Zimmah, I want answers! Whitney demanded. Why couldn’t he see you?

      Several hundred years ago, some creatures did something. A magic type of thing, Zimmah said. They made it so that humans can’t see the supernatural world. Or, if they do see it, it’s altered and looks normal.

      Then what about us? Karim asked. I’ve been able to see you since we first met in that pawn shop.

      I wanted you to see me, Zimmah said. As a djinn, my own world-warping powers are stronger than nearly any magic. It seems that as a genie I lack the ability, though it seems Sparkles’ own powers can also break through it.

      Gramps took Whitney’s wrist, pulling her away from Zimmah, Karim, and Sparkles. I don’t know what’s going on, but you whack-jobs need to leave Whitney out of this.

      Gramps, Whitney said. They aren’t the problem. They want to help.

      Help with what?

      Whitney pointed to the sky over downtown San Francisco. The swirling storm held strong, though the downpour of djinn had simmered to a halt. Instead, a humongous foot, so large that they saw it from miles away, jutted from the portal. Another foot, legs, and a demonic body followed. The creature had red skin that glowed like the underside of hot coals. Like the ghuls, it had no hair on its body and pointed ears. Its face was human except for two extra-large canine fangs. The djinn leaned against the tallest building, a skyscraper in the shape of a pyramid, and the structure only came up to his chin.

      What’s that? Karim whispered.

      That is an ifrit, the third class of djinn. Zimmah said. It is also my father.

      Chapter 2

      THEN.

      The garlack stood on the dirt path in front of Zimmah and Cutter, unaware of the two tweens. After an entire morning of

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