Stolen Wishes

Her eyes grew heavy as she crossed the plains of Ercildoun on horseback.  Ireland’s most beautiful thief, Aurelia, clung tight to last night’s loot.  A mysterious bottle with striking designs seemed more of a riddle than stolen bounty.

Aurelia’s ears buzzed from a nearby intruder.  She stopped and drew her late father’s sword.

“Who’s there?  Show yourself,” she demanded.  Her heart pounded with anticipation.  There was no way she had been followed.  Not after she rode all night to a safe distance.

“Are you a man?” she asked.  “Or are you a thief?”

“I am neither,” came the reply.  A handsome man richly draped in the finest cloth money could buy appeared out of nowhere.  “But I will take that bottle off your hands.” 

Aurelia laughed.  “Do you really think I would just hand this over without payment?  Are you daft?” But just as she clucked at her horse to keep walking, he blocked them in their path.

“Like I said, I am no man nor thief.  But I will take that bottle off your hands.  After all, how do you expect to get it open?” 

Curiosity peaked, Aurelia noticed a peculiar hole in its side.  Realizing it was a lock she tried to force it open.  After several attempts she even tried to break it on the ground.  She looked up at the man and breathing heavily asked, “How does it open?”  This time he laughed.

“There is no key on earth that can open that bottle,” he pulled a necklace out from beneath his robes,  “except for this.”  A small key dangled from it.  Aurelia instinctively knew she had been beaten at her own game.

“Who are you?” she asked.

Walking towards her with an outstretched hand to help her to her feet, “I am the last Jinn.”