If Jackson had been a vault thief, he would have been extremely disappointed in the contents of the safe. It was empty, save for three items: a faded, archaic field notebook small enough to fit in someone’s back pocket, a card, and a small box.

Resisting the urge to open the box — at least for now — Jackson reached a shaky hand in and withdrew the notebook and card propped up against the inside of the safe. The notebook’s leather cover was well-worn and filled with a thousand tiny creases and wrinkles — evidence of many years spent in his mother’s possession on her numerous trips. Jackson flipped through a couple of pages but was quickly disappointed. It contained nothing but observation notes and other dry material.

Setting the notebook back in the vault, Jackson turned the envelope over and a bolt of fear struck him. In faded black letters, in his mother’s handwriting, was one word: Jackie.

He winced, recalling how much he’d hated his mom calling him that — it sounded like a girl’s name and he lived in fear of the kids at school hearing her say that on the rare occasions she dropped him off. Even “Jack” only flew with the people closest to him, like his grandma and Kay. Fiona was sometimes able to get away with it, but that was before secondary schooling when they sort of drifted away from each other.

But now, Jackson would have given anything to hear his mom call him Jackie one more time. His hands trembled at the sight of the name.

Jackson hooked a finger on the corner of the envelope and ripped the top open. With a thick throat and watering eyes, he pulled the card out and read:

What to get a boy of 12? Seeing as you’re a real man now (don’t let Grandma tell you otherwise ;) ), I’d say there’s only one gift out there I CAN give you — your very own Djinn. But this isn’t any ordinary Djinn. It’s a Lyote — a rare breed that’s only found around the volcanoes of Lombardia. In fact —

Jackson smiled at the rest of the sentence which she’d scribbled out but could still be read: it was originally discovered two hundred years ago while

Okay, you’re 12. You obviously don’t care about when or where it came from, or the work I put in classifying and studying it. Point is, she’s a special Djinn, and she’ll serve you well if you treat her right.

All my love, Mom.

All my love, Mom… Jackson reread that last sentence several times.

Although he had no clue about the card and present waiting for him within the walls of the house all these years, Jackson would never forget his twelfth birthday.

He’d been waiting by on the porch all day long. After several hours, Jane finally gave up trying to get him to come inside and brought lunch out. The hours passed by as Jackson waited for his mom. She’d be home for his birthday — she’d promised. In fact, he’d received a vid message from her the previous day saying they were going to be leaving the island late that night.

Afternoon passed into evening and there was no sign of Jessica Hunt. Jackson could still remember the sinking, aching feeling as the sun descended into the horizon on that day. Jane had just pulled the cake out of the oven when the truck with the star on its door pulled up.

Jackson strained to overhear their conversation as he watched matches on the holo, but to no avail.

He hadn’t been able to make out any of the words until his grandma let out a long strangling sob. Ignoring her request, he rushed over to the front door.

And they told him.

Jackson’s mind went blank and he stared in disbelief from the card back to the small box inside the safe. All the feelings of that day washed over him once more. For a moment, he was twelve-year-old Jackie again, waiting for a mother that would never come home to wish him happy birthday.

Placing the card back inside the hidden safe, Jackson reached out and withdrew the small box with reverence. He held it in one hand. The present looked as if it had just been placed in there the day before, with the wrapper seemingly untouched by time. The thought crossed Jackson’s mind that his mom was the last person to touch it. In a strange, surreal way, it felt wrong to even think of opening, as if doing so would destroy one of the last physical reminders that she ever existed.

The moment passed as Jackson came to terms with what was inside the package and what it meant.

Your very own Djinn…

Jackson fumbled with the wrapping paper, doing his best to will his shaking fingers to carefully unwrap the box. When the last of the paper edges came up, he unfolded the creases to reveal a wooden box about the size of his fist.

“Here we go,” Jackson whispered to himself.

He lifted the lid.

Inside was a ring. Jackson removed it from the box and held it up, scrutinizing every detail. It appeared to be made of a slate-grey stone. A multifaceted orange gem stuck up slightly from the band. In the dark light of the office, Jackson could see it giving off a faint pulse of vermillion light. That could only mean one thing:

A Djinn was inside.

Djinn Tamers used the rings to store their monsters in stasis to rest and travel. Although he knew that time slowed almost to a standstill inside the ring, Jackson couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the Djinn that had been trapped inside for almost six years.

Jackson felt almost afraid to put it on. Luckily, his mom had planned for him to grow into the ring and he slid it over his index finger on his left hand. The stone felt cold and smooth against his skin but it fit just right – not too tight and no wiggle room to slide around either.

Jackson took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He raised his hand in front of him and curled the fingers on his left hand into a fist.

Cracking his eyes open, Jackson saw a white light engulf his hand and felt a thrill of adrenaline run through him — it looked just like the pros! The light warmed his hand and the skin tingled. A prompt appeared on his holo-watch as the ring synced with his body signature, something he’d only imagined in his dreams:

RELEASE DJINN?

Jackson nodded and then realized his mistake. His right finger rose almost on its own accord and tapped the floating YES display.

A flash of orange and yellow light shot from the Djinn ring, like a bolt of lightning arcing onto the office floor. At the same time, a low, feral growl filled the room. A four-legged Djinn with burnt orange fur, a soft, cream-colored underbelly, and bushy tail appeared on the wood floor.

Jackson froze, staring at the monster, who bared its teeth — long, sharp canines and fangs — and let loose another low growl. It hunched down and, in that moment, Jackson felt more like a piece of meat than a Djinn Tamer.

He reached out a hand, making shushing noises in a low voice. The Djinn remained where it was, head and shoulders low to the ground, wild eyes glaring at Jackson with suspicion, fear, and anger.

“It’s okay, boy,” Jackson said in a soft voice. He took half a step forward and then froze in place when the Djinn snapped and let out a loud bark.

Knowing he couldn’t keep making a racket without waking up his grandma, Jackson wracked his brain, trying to figure out what to do. He definitely hadn’t expected his first Djinn to want to eat him.

“Well…they don’t call it taming for nothing,” Jackson muttered to himself. He had to get the Djinn to calm down or his grandma would bust him before he even began.

Jackson edged closer to the Djinn — what had his mother called it? A Lyote. That was it.

“Heeeeere, boy,” Jackson said before adding in a low whistle. It fell flat and died away against the Lyote’s continued growling. The Djinn glanced around, looking for an escape. With the Djinn between him and the half-opened door, Jackson knew he wouldn’t be able to shut it if the Lyote tried to bolt.

He reasoned it was more scared than violent, although being cornered didn’t help.

Jackson sank down to one knee and stretched out his arm and hand as far as he could reach. Every instinct told him he was crazy, that he was likely to be bitten, but Jackson ignored the urge to pull his hand away. The Djinn froze in its place, now focused completely on Jackson’s hand. Stretching out his fingertips, Jackson paused just a few inches away from the Lyote’s snarling muzzle.

“That’s a good boy,” he cooed, using the same voice he talked to the Smilaguar at the breeders earlier. Just then, the letter flashed in his mind. She’ll serve you well…“Oh, that’s right. You’re a girl, aren’t you? Sorry about that. It’s okay…I’m not going to —”

The Djinn snapped and Jackson pulled his hand back just in time to feel the rush of air from the Lyote’s teeth. Jackson stumbled backward and smacked his head on the desk. Sensing a moment of power, the Lyote leaped over Jackson onto the desk, scattering an assortment of items onto the floor in a cascade of noise.

Cursing, Jackson crawled to his feet. He was now standing between the Lyote and the door. Just as he stood up straight, he heard the floorboards creaking upstairs and froze. Jane was awake.

“Jackson?” Her voice didn’t sound at all like she’d just been asleep. “Is that you? What’s going on down there?”

Glancing away from the Lyote, which still looked just as freaked out on top of the desk as it had on the floor, Jackson swung the door open to yell up the stairs.

“I’m fine…everything’s fine…just grabbing a bite to eat.”

The way he said it sounded more like a question than an answer and he winced, hoping with all his might that his grandma wouldn’t come down to investigate. When she said nothing, he decided to add in another line to assuage her concern.

“I didn’t turn the light on and some stuff in the cupboard fell out — sorry I woke you up!”

Although he couldn’t make out the words, Jackson could tell his grandma was audibly questioning his common sense from all the grumbling.

“Be more careful next time! And get back to bed!”

“Okay…sorry again!”

Jackson watched the Lyote cautiously as he heard the floorboards creak upstairs. What the hell was she doing up so late? Any more racket and Grandma would surely come down the stairs. The Djinn stared back at him, still growling. Knowing she was awake upstairs, Jackson didn’t dare do anything that would cause the monster to make more noise.

As if realizing Jackson wasn’t a threat, the Lyote started looking for a way out of the room. It hopped down from the desk and scratched at the corners of the office. Jackson held his breath — the scrabble of claws on the wood floor sounded like hammer blows to his paranoid ears. After realizing there was no way out of the room behind the desk, the Lyote padded around the corner and hunkered down. She growled at Jackson.

“No!” Jackson commanded in a loud whisper. If being nice didn’t work he’d try firm. “Bad girl!”

Seeing his wagging finger, the Lyote growled even more and its body tensed as if preparing to spring. A terrible realization crossed Jackson’s mind: he’d left the door behind him wide open, as he was afraid shutting it would give rise to suspicion from his grandma if she heard it. Now, the Djinn could see she had an opening and the only thing in her way was Jackson.

“Easy, girl,” Jackson said, switching tactics to the good guy again. “Just take it easy —”

The Lyote burst past Jackson, who caught only air in his hands as he scrambled to grab her. The Djinn landed on the hallway carpet, wheeled around, and shot up the stairs. His heart raced and his veins burned with adrenaline. Without thinking, Jackson ran after it, with no thought gracing his panic-driven mind other than the need to stop it. He slipped on the bunched-up hallway rug and his left hand shot out. The ring burst into another vermilion glow and a beam of light struck the Lyote.

He felt an immediate tug on his left arm. In the next instant, the tamer ring sucked the Djinn back inside just as Jane burst out of her room,

“What in the hell is going on down there?” she yelled, agitated at the continued ruckus. Jane stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at him with her hands on her hips. With her ruffled hair and billowing nightgown, Jackson might have thought she cut quite the figure as a crazy witch, but no way was he telling her that now.

“I, uh…,” he struggled to think of what to say. From her angle, Jane wouldn’t be able to see the office door open or the mess inside. He had to keep her upstairs at all costs. “I… tripped on the bottom stair and fell but I’m okay.”

Jane stared at him, obviously suspicious. “Did you hurt yourself?” she asked. Her tone sounded more skeptical than concerned.

“N-no, I'm okay, I promise,” Jackson said.

“Did you fall all the way from the top?” Jane asked. “I could hear something outside my door…”

“Yeah but really, I’m okay,” Jackson insisted. “I mean — I stumbled from the top to the bottom. Not on the bottom step but to the bottom step. I said on the top step at first, but what I really meant is I fell top to bottom. You know, top to bott —”

“I got it, Jackson.”

“Okay, just making sure,” he said nervously. “I don’t want you to worry.” He kept his left hand tucked behind his back and pressed against his shirt. “I’m just gonna grab a drink of water and go back to bed… I… I was having a hard time sleeping after today.”

Jane’s expression softened. They hadn’t spoken about the day’s events after Jackson came back home and the tension still hung heavy between them.

“Me too,” she said softly. “We’ll make it through it though, pal, I promise. I’m…I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I know how hard things are for you right now, but I promise I just want the best for you.”

Jackson felt a lump welling in his throat again. “I know,” he said. “I’m sorry too.”

His grandma gave him a small smile. “It will all work out. We’re Hunts — we always figure out a way. Now get some sleep!”

As soon as Jane closed her bedroom door Jackson leaned onto his back and let out a long sigh.

His thoughts returned to his prior task and the backpack sitting next to the door. A scary thought crossed his mind: what if he’d left without going into his mom’s office? The Lyote would have stayed in the safe, maybe forever. It was almost as if his mom’s ghost was roaming the house that night, making sure Jackson didn’t leave his Djinn behind. Perhaps she was even making sure he didn’t leave his grandma behind. Now he had his own Djinn, Jackson reasoned he didn’t have to leave.

He knew he couldn’t stay mad at his grandma, at least not now that he had a solution to their problem. With his own Djinn, he’d have to train in secret but he didn’t have to run. A wave of shame crossed him at how close he’d been to abandoning the only living family he had left in the world.

He slunk back into the office, quickly tidying up as much as he could. It didn’t need to be perfect, just enough to make sure it didn’t look like a Djinn had just ran rampant through it. Then, moving as quietly as he could, Jackson snatched the note he left for his grandma from the kitchen counter, crumpled it up and tossed it in the garbage, taking care to shove it down so she wouldn’t see it by accident. He grabbed his backpack and inched up the stairs, holding against his side in the event Jane came out again.

Inside his room, he shut the door and tossed the backpack full of his belongings and food into the closet. Jackson scratched his head and rummaged through a drawer. He knew he had a chain somewhere that he’d used to wear that god-awful tooth necklace just a few years back.

He felt the thin chain with the tips of his fingers and pulled it from the back of his top drawer. He frowned when he saw the ugly Tandile tooth — it served as a reminder of his stupid rebel phase. He chucked away the tooth without a second thought.

Although it pained him already to remove the ring from his finger, Jackson looped it around the chain and hung it from his neck. The stone’s light was almost completely gone now, just the faintest flicker of light in its depth. Even so, Jackson could feel the energy in it against his chest, almost as if he were feeling the Lyote’s heart beating along with his.

Now he had a chance. He’d train the Lyote and win enough money to save the house. Somehow, things were going to be okay, he just knew it.

Jackson held the ring over his head as he lay in bed, turning it over and over in his fingers. This was it — this would be the moment he looked back on years later, the night when it all started.

As the last bits of adrenaline faded, Jackson felt a wave of exhaustion overcome him, amplified by the day’s stress.

“Thanks, Mom,” he whispered into the dark.

Six years after her death, she still managed to be the coolest mom in the world.