Morning broke cold and gray, with wind sharp enough to sting the skin. Lia woke to the sound of footsteps—heavy, deliberate, and too many.
Maru stirred beside her in the bakery's loft, his small hand grabbing her sleeve. "Lia… I hear people."
She looked down through a crack in the wooden boards.
Four of Lord Brenner's men.
And Cray.
The boy-prince of Dustwater stood at the bakery door, tapping a polished cane against his boot like a metronome of arrogance. "Check the upper floor," he called lazily. "I want whatever they've got."
Lia's heart slammed in her chest. Her hand darted into her satchel and gripped the cloth-wrapped lamp. Mister Genie's form materialized silently beside her.
"They followed the smoke," he said.
"Can you protect us?"
"Only if you wish it. Or if they threaten your life directly."
Boots creaked on the stairs.
Lia looked at Maru's pale, terrified face. His lip trembled.
She stood. "I'm not letting them hurt us. Or anyone else."
She pulled the lamp from its wrappings.
"Say it clearly," the genie said, golden eyes locked on hers.
"I wish," Lia whispered, "that Cray Brenner can never lie again—not to anyone."
The genie blinked.
The room changed.
A faint hum vibrated through the air like the echo of distant bells. Light surged from the lamp and wrapped around her hand like a shiver of lightning. The genie raised one hand, palm open, and whispered a word Lia couldn't understand—low, ancient, almost mournful.
Then the light vanished.
"Done," he said. "The first wish is granted."
Footsteps reached the top of the stairs.
The door burst open. Cray's men spilled into the loft, blades drawn.
Cray himself stepped in behind them, scanning the room. "There you are," he said. "Thought you could run forever?"
Mister Genie vanished into mist, invisible again.
Cray strode forward, raising his hand toward Lia. "Give me what you found. I—"
His voice caught. His eyes widened.
"I want… I want…" he stammered, as if choking on the next words.
Lia stepped forward. "Say it."
Cray's face turned red. He looked around at his men. "I… want the lamp for myself," he hissed.
The guards glanced at each other.
"I want to sell it to Father so he'll give me more power," Cray blurted, then slapped a hand over his own mouth.
"What?" one of the guards asked.
Cray's eyes flared with panic. "I… I hate this town. I hate these people. I just want to get out."
He clenched his jaw, trembling.
"Stop talking," he growled at himself.
Lia stared, stunned.
He couldn't stop. The truth kept spilling from him like water through cracks.
"I burned down the tannery last month," Cray admitted through gritted teeth. "I blamed bandits. Father believed me."
The guards stepped back from him.
"You little bastard," one whispered.
"You did what?" another asked.
Cray looked horrified. He turned and bolted down the stairs, his men confused, hesitant.
Lia didn't move. The genie reappeared beside her, calm and silent.
"What did I just do?" she whispered.
"You shattered his mask," Mister Genie replied. "You didn't need to destroy him. You let him destroy himself."
Lia looked at Maru. The boy was grinning now.
"That was amazing," he said. "Do another!"
The genie smiled faintly. "Two wishes remain. And the storm you've summoned… is only beginning."