Practical Demonkeeping

don’t want to go back to the store either. I think I’ll give the business to Robert and Jenny.”
    “Is it wise to put the drunkard in the wine barrel?”
    “He won’t drink anymore. I want them to have the house, too. I’ll start the paperwork in the morning.”
    “It is done.”
    “Just like that?”
    “You doubt the word of the King of the Djinn ?”
    They walked in silence for a while before Brine spoke again.
    “It seems wrong that Travis has lived so long without having a life, without love.”
    “Like yourself, you mean?”
    “No, not like myself. I’ve had a good life.”
    “Would you have me make him young again?”
    Brine thought for a moment before he answered. “Could you make him age in reverse? For each year that passes he is a year younger?”
    “It can be done.”
    “And her, too?”
    “Her?”
    “Amanda. Could you make them grow young together?”
    “It can be done, if you command it.”
    “I do.”
    “It is done. Will you tell them?”
    “No, not right away. It will be a nice surprise.”
    “And what of yourself, Augustus Brine? What is it you wish?”
    “I don’t know. I always thought I’d make a good madam.”
    Before the Djinn could say anything else, Rachel’s van sputtered up beside them and stopped. She rolled down the window and said, “Do you need a ride, Gus?”
    “He is trying to think,” the Djinn snapped.
    “Don’t be rude,” Brine said to the Djinn . “Which way are you going?”
    “I don’t know for sure. I don’t feel like going home—maybe ever.”
    Brine walked around the front of the van and slid open the cargo door. “Get in, Gian Hen Gian .”
    The Djinn got into the van. Brine slammed the cargo door and climbed into the passenger seat next to Rachel.
    “Well?” she said.
    “East,” Brine said. “
Nevada
.”
     
    It was called King’s Lake. When it appeared in the desert, it simultaneously appeared on every map of
Nevada
that had ever been printed. People who had passed through that part of the state swore that they had never seen it before, yet there it was on the map.
    Above the tree-lined banks of King’s Lake stood a palace with a hundred rooms. Atop the palace a massive electric sign read, BRINE’S BAIT, TACKLE, AND FINE WOMEN.
    Anyone who visited the palace was greeted by a beautiful, dark-haired woman, who took their money and led them to a room. On their way out a tiny brown man in a rumpled suit returned their money and wished them well.
    Upon returning home the visitors told of a white-haired man who sat all day in the lotus position at the end of a pier in front of the palace, fishing and smoking a pipe. They said that when evening approached, the dark-haired woman would join the man and together they would watch the sun go down.
    The visitors were never quite clear as to what had happened to them while they were at the palace. It didn’t seem to matter. But after a visit they found that they appreciated the simple pleasures that life presented to them and they were happy. And although they recommended Brine’s to their friends, they never returned themselves.
    What went on in the rooms is another story altogether.