This short story is a few years old, and has not been available online for a little while. It’s partially based on an idea from over ten years ago, but only took form when I was trying a Chuck Wendig flash fiction challenge. It includes a genie, a heist and a teapot, so is a fantasy crime short.
‘I only told you to blow the bloody doors off,’ the robber said in his unusual accent.
‘That’s exactly what I did.’
‘Look, Fred, my friend, it’s not what you bloody well did,’ the robber complained, shaking the blood from his hands. ‘When I said “Blow the bloody doors off”, I only meant blow the bloody doors off. Not do anything else.’
The genie looked chastened, gazing circumspectly at his shoes as he flickered between his animal and human forms. It was not his fault, he had only done what he was asked to do. The high wooden doors, previously barring the entrance to the basement treasure vault, had only been a minor challenge. He had blown, and the doors had blown off. His accomplice had nearly been swept out of the corridor while being liberally sprayed with a mysterious blood-like substance, which condensed on the surface of the doors.
‘Stop that,’ the robber snapped.
‘Stop what?’ the genie replied, utterly confused.
‘Flickering, changing shape. You keep doing it, and I wish you’d make up your bloody mind. Are you a man, or are you a dog?’
The genie complied, settling into his human form. He had not realised his shape changing was irritating. Of course, human hands made it much easier to carry his teapot around. Paws were simply not designed for holding brewing vessels. He was still smarting from being bound in the tatty old teapot. It was such a step down from the Ming vase he had last been bound inside. Clearly he had subconsciously been intending to keep hold of the teapot, and keep it out of other hands. Paws would be no use for that, although a pleasant set of canine teeth might keep human hands off his teapot. He clicked his fingers and candles in the vault spluttered to life. That was something else paws were no use for. One could not click his paws.
‘Oh, great,’ the robber moaned.
‘What’s great?’ The genie asked, an optimistic tone infecting his voice. Perhaps the robber had found something unusual, like a pile of marshmallows or a bowl of ice cream. Even a nice bone would do. Surely there would be more exciting treasure than gold in this vault.
‘The way is barred,’ the robber slapped his meaty hand on the floor to ceiling metal bars. Metal bars behind the doors blocked access to the vault. The robber had not initially noticed the new obstruction in the poor light once the doors had been opened. The splatters of blood that he was still removing from his eyes had also not strengthened his limited powers of observation.
‘So that’s it then? We’re going home?’ The genie asked. The idea of a few hours of peace in his worn teapot was appealing.
‘We’ve come this far, and we’re not going back. I didn’t cross that crocodile-infested swamp or stagger across the Desert of Death just to give up at this last hurdle. This King is just asking to be burgled.’
‘He asked you?’ The genie was confused. Why would a King ask to be burgled?
‘Not directly, but certainly after a fashion. You don’t hide your worldly goods in such a vault unless you want the famous Bill the Robber to pay you a visit.’
The genie nodded, understanding. This king wanted his security tested. Bill the Robber was obviously working as a consultant.
‘After all, it would be rude not to try. How will the King know his goods are worth having if I don’t steal them?’
‘I suppose he wouldn’t,’ the genie replied. ‘So what do you want to do then?’
‘I know what I want,’ Bill said, inspired as an idea floated into his mind. ‘I want you to show me the money.’
‘Really?’
‘Show me the money,’ the robber repeated. ‘Show me the money! I wish you’d show me the money!’
There was a crack as the genie created two vacuums along the corridor. These occurred where the robber and the genie had just been standing. Blood dripping from the ceiling was pulled towards the suddenly vacant spaces. A further crack, behind the bars and inside the vault, led to a mass of confused air being forced out of the vault. The area that the air had been perfectly happy to occupy was now full of blood-soaked human and genie.
‘Ouch!’ the robber exclaimed, holding the tip of his nose and blowing to equalise the pressure in his sinuses. ‘Warn me if you’re going to do that again. I think I’m going to be sick.’ Bill vomited.
‘I really don’t see the problem, you know. You made a wish, and your wish is my command.’
The robber tried to articulate his opinion on the matter, but his stomach insisted on talking instead, ‘Bleeeuuurrrggghh!’
‘If you read the contract,’ the genie said, unfurling a vast scroll from out of the totally bemused air. ‘Paragraph two thousand, eight hundred and sixteen, clearly states that I will deliver promptly on all wishes unless additional mitigating clauses take priority.’
‘Shut up,’ the robber croaked, his facing going red as he fought his upset stomach..
‘There’s no need to be rude, you know,’ the genie replied. ‘You are being rude, aren’t you? I could try shutting up. Is that different from shutting down?’
The robber scowled at the genie for several long seconds, yet this time the jin did not notice. Eventually, Bill gave up, pulled himself together, and took in the surrounding view. The vault was full of gold coins, gold and silver bars, and many precious stones. Indeed, the genie had “shown him the money.” Other than noise made by the genie tapping a pile of coins with his slipper, the vault was almost completely silent. The other exception was the constant drip of water, which had somewhere found a way into the vault.
Bill was beside himself. He had finally achieved his big score. There was enough treasure here for him to retire on. Well, enough until he spent it all on pretty women, good food and a beautiful place to stay. Someone could quickly burn through the wealth of a king. The robber knew this from hard experience, having previously burnt through the wealth of three other vaults of similar size.
‘All these coins,’ he exclaimed. ‘Gold and silver, all of them.’ The thief ran his hand through the coins at the top of the treasure chest. The chest was full of many shining and glittering things. ‘This diamond is enourmous,’ Fred squeaked, picking up a diamond half the size of his enormous fist. He dropped the precious stone into a giant goblet as he spotted something even more impressive. ‘Look at these gold bars,’ Bob sang as he skipped, lifting a heavy bar above his head like a rather wealthy weightlifter. ‘Gold! It’s pure gold.’
The genie watched in silence. It was not the first time he had seen wealth like this. It was not even the first time he had granted a wish of this nature. Simply put, the money was of no interest to him. He could have whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it, well almost. His teapot was far more appealing than all the wealth around him and he wished he could get cosy in it.
‘Right, hold this bag open for me,’ Bill thrust an enchanted bag towards the genie. ‘I’m going to fill it and then we’ll get out of here.’
Bar after bar, coin after coin, diamond after diamond, dropped into the bag. It never got cumbersome, nor bulky. The bag devoured everything that was dropped in.
‘I’m not even making a dent in this place,’ Bill chortled, dropping another gold bar into the bag. A silver neck-chain followed next for good measure.
A door slammed. The noise came from the end of the corridor. Both the genie and the robber looked up, although Bill continued to fill his bag. The heavy thump of footsteps carried menacingly into the vault. Clearly, the owners of the footsteps were large, well-armed and somewhat angry. Bill scrabbled a few last items into the bag, a look of panic covering his face as he realised just how much of the treasure he would have to leave behind.
The genie waited, passively holding the enchanted bag and barely aware of the rising panic displayed by his companion.
‘Get us out of here,’ Bill squeaked, his vocal cords crushed by his rising fear.
The genie looked at Bill. Bill looked back at the genie. Nothing happened.
‘I said, get us out of here. Quick!’
The heavy footsteps ended with a crashing halt, two guards appearing from the gloomy corridor. To call them guards would be unfair to the type of guard, commonly employed, who may spend several hours a day working out. This pair of guards seemed to do their job as a break from the gym. They were so vast their muscles bulged between the plates of their armour, struggling to break free.
‘Stop! Thief!’ one guard exclaimed in a nasal voice that also displayed his level of intelligence.
‘We’ve got to go,’ Bill reminded the genie. ‘I wish we were safely back home.’
The robber screwed his eyelids tight, ready for the instantaneous travel his wish would bring about. Nothing happened. After a couple of seconds of silence, Bill opened one eye to see he was still in the vault with a pair of guards looking through the bars at him.
‘Genie, I said I wish we were safely back home,’ Bill repeated.
Even though Bill screwed up his face tighter this time, nothing happened.
‘Stop! Thief!’ the guard repeated, breaking the silence, not realising the thief was already stationary and how words were pointless.
‘He’s behind bars already,’ the other guard pointed out. Clearly, he was the brains of the outfit. ‘He’s already stopped.’
‘Genie, what’s going on?’ Bill asked. ‘Why haven’t you granted my wish?’
‘I granted your wishes,’ the genie replied, looking surprised.
‘No, you haven’t. I wished I was safe at home.’
‘I only grant three wishes, you know. You assured me you had read the small print,’ the genie replied. It was not the first time someone had misunderstood the contract. ‘I’m sorry, but you’re going to work things out with these gentlemen.’
‘Stop! Thief!’ the first guard interjected. A grunt followed this as the second guard elbowed him.
‘But I’ve only had two wishes,’ Bill complained, raising one hand so he could tick off the wishes on his fingers. ‘First, I wished you’d blow the doors off, and you made a right bloody mess of that, I might add. Then I wished we were in the vault and behind the bars. So that’s two wishes by my count.’
‘You forgot one,’ the genie replied.
‘What?’
‘You forgot one wish. You wished I’d stop shimmering and changing shape.’
‘No, I didn’t,’ Bill complained, a panicked tone rising in his voice as he replayed the events in his mind and realised he had made the wish.
‘Yes, you did. So you’ve had your three wishes, and that’s the end of our arrangement,’ the genie said, placing his teapot on an untouched pile of gold bars. ‘Goodbye.’
A sudden crack sounded as the genie disappeared, the air rushing to fill the space he had been occupying. The teapot rang as the genie materialised inside, much smaller. This then also popped out of existence.
‘Stop! Thief!’ the first guard said again.
‘This isn’t fair,’ Bill the Robber said to no-one as he threw himself to the floor in despair.
‘I only told you to blow the bloody doors off,’ the robber said in his unusual accent.
‘That’s exactly what I did.’
‘Look, Fred, my friend, it’s not what you bloody well did,’ the robber complained, shaking the blood from his hands. ‘When I said “Blow the bloody doors off”, I only meant blow the bloody doors off. Not do anything else.’
The genie looked chastened, gazing circumspectly at his shoes as he flickered between his animal and human forms. It was not his fault, he had only done what he was asked to do. The high wooden doors, previously barring the entrance to the basement treasure vault, had only been a minor challenge. He had blown, and the doors had blown off. His accomplice had nearly been swept out of the corridor while being liberally sprayed with a mysterious blood-like substance, which condensed on the surface of the doors.
‘Stop that,’ the robber snapped.
‘Stop what?’ the genie replied, utterly confused.
‘Flickering, changing shape. You keep doing it, and I wish you’d make up your bloody mind. Are you a man, or are you a dog?’
The genie complied, settling into his human form. He had not realised his shape changing was irritating. Of course, human hands made it much easier to carry his teapot around. Paws were simply not designed for holding brewing vessels. He was still smarting from being bound in the tatty old teapot. It was such a step down from the Ming vase he had last been bound inside. Clearly he had subconsciously been intending to keep hold of the teapot, and keep it out of other hands. Paws would be no use for that, although a pleasant set of canine teeth might keep human hands off his teapot. He clicked his fingers and candles in the vault spluttered to life. That was something else paws were no use for. One could not click his paws.
‘Oh, great,’ the robber moaned.
‘What’s great?’ The genie asked, an optimistic tone infecting his voice. Perhaps the robber had found something unusual, like a pile of marshmallows or a bowl of ice cream. Even a nice bone would do. Surely there would be more exciting treasure than gold in this vault.
‘The way is barred,’ the robber slapped his meaty hand on the floor to ceiling metal bars. Metal bars behind the doors blocked access to the vault. The robber had not initially noticed the new obstruction in the poor light once the doors had been opened. The splatters of blood that he was still removing from his eyes had also not strengthened his limited powers of observation.
‘So that’s it then? We’re going home?’ The genie asked. The idea of a few hours of peace in his worn teapot was appealing.
‘We’ve come this far, and we’re not going back. I didn’t cross that crocodile-infested swamp or stagger across the Desert of Death just to give up at this last hurdle. This King is just asking to be burgled.’
‘He asked you?’ The genie was confused. Why would a King ask to be burgled?
‘Not directly, but certainly after a fashion. You don’t hide your worldly goods in such a vault unless you want the famous Bill the Robber to pay you a visit.’
The genie nodded, understanding. This king wanted his security tested. Bill the Robber was obviously working as a consultant.
‘After all, it would be rude not to try. How will the King know his goods are worth having if I don’t steal them?’
‘I suppose he wouldn’t,’ the genie replied. ‘So what do you want to do then?’
‘I know what I want,’ Bill said, inspired as an idea floated into his mind. ‘I want you to show me the money.’
‘Really?’
‘Show me the money,’ the robber repeated. ‘Show me the money! I wish you’d show me the money!’
There was a crack as the genie created two vacuums along the corridor. These occurred where the robber and the genie had just been standing. Blood dripping from the ceiling was pulled towards the suddenly vacant spaces. A further crack, behind the bars and inside the vault, led to a mass of confused air being forced out of the vault. The area that the air had been perfectly happy to occupy was now full of blood-soaked human and genie.
‘Ouch!’ the robber exclaimed, holding the tip of his nose and blowing to equalise the pressure in his sinuses. ‘Warn me if you’re going to do that again. I think I’m going to be sick.’ Bill vomited.
‘I really don’t see the problem, you know. You made a wish, and your wish is my command.’
The robber tried to articulate his opinion on the matter, but his stomach insisted on talking instead, ‘Bleeeuuurrrggghh!’
‘If you read the contract,’ the genie said, unfurling a vast scroll from out of the totally bemused air. ‘Paragraph two thousand, eight hundred and sixteen, clearly states that I will deliver promptly on all wishes unless additional mitigating clauses take priority.’
‘Shut up,’ the robber croaked, his facing going red as he fought his upset stomach..
‘There’s no need to be rude, you know,’ the genie replied. ‘You are being rude, aren’t you? I could try shutting up. Is that different from shutting down?’
The robber scowled at the genie for several long seconds, yet this time the jin did not notice. Eventually, Bill gave up, pulled himself together, and took in the surrounding view. The vault was full of gold coins, gold and silver bars, and many precious stones. Indeed, the genie had “shown him the money.” Other than noise made by the genie tapping a pile of coins with his slipper, the vault was almost completely silent. The other exception was the constant drip of water, which had somewhere found a way into the vault.
Bill was beside himself. He had finally achieved his big score. There was enough treasure here for him to retire on. Well, enough until he spent it all on pretty women, good food and a beautiful place to stay. Someone could quickly burn through the wealth of a king. The robber knew this from hard experience, having previously burnt through the wealth of three other vaults of similar size.
‘All these coins,’ he exclaimed. ‘Gold and silver, all of them.’ The thief ran his hand through the coins at the top of the treasure chest. The chest was full of many shining and glittering things. ‘This diamond is enourmous,’ Fred squeaked, picking up a diamond half the size of his enormous fist. He dropped the precious stone into a giant goblet as he spotted something even more impressive. ‘Look at these gold bars,’ Bob sang as he skipped, lifting a heavy bar above his head like a rather wealthy weightlifter. ‘Gold! It’s pure gold.’
The genie watched in silence. It was not the first time he had seen wealth like this. It was not even the first time he had granted a wish of this nature. Simply put, the money was of no interest to him. He could have whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it, well almost. His teapot was far more appealing than all the wealth around him and he wished he could get cosy in it.
‘Right, hold this bag open for me,’ Bill thrust an enchanted bag towards the genie. ‘I’m going to fill it and then we’ll get out of here.’
Bar after bar, coin after coin, diamond after diamond, dropped into the bag. It never got cumbersome, nor bulky. The bag devoured everything that was dropped in.
‘I’m not even making a dent in this place,’ Bill chortled, dropping another gold bar into the bag. A silver neck-chain followed next for good measure.
A door slammed. The noise came from the end of the corridor. Both the genie and the robber looked up, although Bill continued to fill his bag. The heavy thump of footsteps carried menacingly into the vault. Clearly, the owners of the footsteps were large, well-armed and somewhat angry. Bill scrabbled a few last items into the bag, a look of panic covering his face as he realised just how much of the treasure he would have to leave behind.
The genie waited, passively holding the enchanted bag and barely aware of the rising panic displayed by his companion.
‘Get us out of here,’ Bill squeaked, his vocal cords crushed by his rising fear.
The genie looked at Bill. Bill looked back at the genie. Nothing happened.
‘I said, get us out of here. Quick!’
The heavy footsteps ended with a crashing halt, two guards appearing from the gloomy corridor. To call them guards would be unfair to the type of guard, commonly employed, who may spend several hours a day working out. This pair of guards seemed to do their job as a break from the gym. They were so vast their muscles bulged between the plates of their armour, struggling to break free.
‘Stop! Thief!’ one guard exclaimed in a nasal voice that also displayed his level of intelligence.
‘We’ve got to go,’ Bill reminded the genie. ‘I wish we were safely back home.’
The robber screwed his eyelids tight, ready for the instantaneous travel his wish would bring about. Nothing happened. After a couple of seconds of silence, Bill opened one eye to see he was still in the vault with a pair of guards looking through the bars at him.
‘Genie, I said I wish we were safely back home,’ Bill repeated.
Even though Bill screwed up his face tighter this time, nothing happened.
‘Stop! Thief!’ the guard repeated, breaking the silence, not realising the thief was already stationary and how words were pointless.
‘He’s behind bars already,’ the other guard pointed out. Clearly, he was the brains of the outfit. ‘He’s already stopped.’
‘Genie, what’s going on?’ Bill asked. ‘Why haven’t you granted my wish?’
‘I granted your wishes,’ the genie replied, looking surprised.
‘No, you haven’t. I wished I was safe at home.’
‘I only grant three wishes, you know. You assured me you had read the small print,’ the genie replied. It was not the first time someone had misunderstood the contract. ‘I’m sorry, but you’re going to work things out with these gentlemen.’
‘Stop! Thief!’ the first guard interjected. A grunt followed this as the second guard elbowed him.
‘But I’ve only had two wishes,’ Bill complained, raising one hand so he could tick off the wishes on his fingers. ‘First, I wished you’d blow the doors off, and you made a right bloody mess of that, I might add. Then I wished we were in the vault and behind the bars. So that’s two wishes by my count.’
‘You forgot one,’ the genie replied.
‘What?’
‘You forgot one wish. You wished I’d stop shimmering and changing shape.’
‘No, I didn’t,’ Bill complained, a panicked tone rising in his voice as he replayed the events in his mind and realised he had made the wish.
‘Yes, you did. So you’ve had your three wishes, and that’s the end of our arrangement,’ the genie said, placing his teapot on an untouched pile of gold bars. ‘Goodbye.’
A sudden crack sounded as the genie disappeared, the air rushing to fill the space he had been occupying. The teapot rang as the genie materialised inside, much smaller. This then also popped out of existence.
‘Stop! Thief!’ the first guard said again.
‘This isn’t fair,’ Bill the Robber said to no-one as he threw himself to the floor in despair.