Rami refuses to meet my eyes.
My body goes rigid, as if rooted to the ground. “I …” I begin. “He’s your son?”
Earth turns around to face me with a smirk. Rami still doesn’t look at me.
“I thought you drowned all of your children when they were born,” I say to Earth. “The stories all say—”
“I kept that one,” Earth interrupts, glaring at Rami. “His father was jinn. I thought he might be useful. He’s proven himself not to be,” she adds with a sigh, spoken more to herself than to us.
“He means nothing to you, then,” I say.
Earth shrugs. “Nothing and everything.” Her voice is callous, uncaring.
“But you care for him?” I point out. “You’re his mother.”
“Not more than I would for a sapling pushing through winter’s snow. I want it to succeed, but I won’t lift a hand to help, unless I’m in the mood.”
“Please,” I say. “I only want my daughter back, and Rami wants his family. His father’s family,” I add.
“And I only want the earth to set ablaze and start anew,” Earth snaps. “We don’t always get what we want. But in my realm,” she pauses, eyes narrowing. “I do get what I want. And I want you both gone.”
“Lead them out of my realm,” she says with a snap of her fingers at Gall. “And don’t let them back in.”
“Mother,” Rami says. “It’s my family, and my cousins, and—”
“Your family, jinn, not mine.”
“Yes, my family. Blood.”
Earth shrugs again.
“Please,” I beg. “Let us through and we won’t ask any other favors of you.”
Earth stares at me and for a breath, a delirious breath, I think she is going to relent.
“No.”