The Jinn Knight

By Ian Banks

Robert Knight is a member of a powerful supernatural race known as the Jinn. Viewed as a threat by the rest of the supernatural world, the Jinn have been hunted into near extinction. When he and the last remaining members of his family are forced to flee for their lives, Robert decides that the time has come to try and overturn the millennia of hatred against his people and secure his family’s survival by establishing a spirit of friendship and trust. But with fanatical zealots hunting him at every turn, will Robert be able to convince anyone that the ancient crusade against his people is a war that should be left in the past?

The Jinn Knight is a story of chivalry, honour and integrity as one man fights for survival and acceptance within the supernatural community. Supernatural races, both more and less widely known, strive to bring about a better future, or to complete a centuries long quest for genocide.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Jul 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9781528945424

Ian Banks

Born in Essex, Ian Banks now lives with his wife and children on the Essex coast. He originally studied law and now works in complaints handling and dispute resolution. Growing up in the nineties, he was a fan of a range of supernatural fiction and aspired to create his own, paying particular focus to supernatural figures which appeared less frequently within fiction. During the COVID-19 pandemic, he decided to put pen to paper and make that dream a reality.

Book preview

About the Author

Born in Essex, Ian Banks now lives with his wife and children on the Essex coast. He originally studied law and now works in complaints handling and dispute resolution. Growing up in the nineties, he was a fan of a range of supernatural fiction and aspired to create his own, paying particular focus to supernatural figures which appeared less frequently within fiction. During the COVID-19 pandemic, he decided to put pen to paper and make that dream a reality.

Dedication

Dedicated to my beautiful wife

Copyright Information ©

Ian Banks 2023

The right of Ian Banks to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781528942744 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781528945424 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2023

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

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Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

Special thanks to my wife and parents for so many years of support and encouragement.

Recognition to all of my teachers through childhood and into adulthood for the education they gave me.

And appreciation to the authors, screenwriters and directors who created fiction which helped inspire my imagination.

Prologue

For as long as there has been man, there has been magic. All the power of creation and the ability to change the world; exists within every tiny seed, flowing river and impregnable rock. Today almost anyone can harness this power using the tools of science and industry but in the ancient days, there were but a few who practiced the subtler and skilful art of magic. These were the witches and they first existed as far back as the earliest civilisations, in Mesopotamia, China, Egypt and many other sites around the world.

The witches had wondrous powers to call on nature in the form of spells to change their surroundings and even enhance the natural skills of others; to make crops grow larger, cows produce more milk, men be stronger, women bear more children and to heal the injured and sick. But though their numbers steadily grew through the centuries they often wished that there were other beings distinct from themselves that could use magic in different ways and complement their place within the world.

Around 1500 BC in the area that would one day be known as part of the Phoenician civilisation, a witch called Lilith devised a ritual to create new magical beings and over many months, she cast her spells over the unborn children of four pregnant women in her village. When the children were born, three girls and a boy, Lilith watched over them and soon saw that she had been successful. By the time each infant was six months old, they had all demonstrated that they could move objects telekinetically, an ability that only the most skilled witches could master.

Within a year, each child could conjure objects from thin air and whilst they could not create life, they could conjure things that seemed and acted alive if it was the will of the one who had created it. By three, each child could change their shape and form at will and Lilith had taken over the care of her creations, teaching them to control their abilities and she called her new partners in magic, Jinn.

By age five, the children could walk through solid objects like a breeze through mist and shortly after his seventh birthday, the male Jinn whose name was Simeon saved the life of another young man who was being savaged by a dog. A stabbing pulse of psionic energy stunned the dog and it rolled over unconscious in the street. Lilith was impressed by the growing power of the beings she had created but began to wonder what the limit to their powers was. She continued to train them alongside her biological daughter, Indre, and the five children grew as close as siblings.

The most controversial power of the Jinn manifested itself around age ten, when the four children demonstrated the ability to control the minds of others. Lilith, who along with Indre seemed immune, made the Jinn swear they would not use this ability for their personal benefit. The seventh and final power of the Jinn emerged during puberty. The power of matter decimation caused the natural breaking down of matter at a massively accelerated rate; wood burned, rocks cracked, and metal would tarnish, rust and melt.

One day shortly after they had all turned eighteen, Indre, Simeon and the three female Jinn, Eve, Mary and Sarah were walking in the hills above their village. In a narrow pass above a rock-strewn ravine, Indre slipped on some loose scree and fell into the chasm. For a moment, the four Jinn stood stunned, then taking various winged forms they soared down into the valley and resumed their human forms next to the battered and lifeless body of their friend.

As they stood there, the four Jinn seemed to see a golden aura around their friend. Each instinctively raised their hands and the aura seemed attracted to them. Their hands glowing; each Jinn began to chant. The aura vanished and with a gasp, Indre opened her eyes as life rushed back into her.

Returning home, they told their story to a horrified Lilith. The young Jinn had never before cast a spell and they did not understand how they had done so now. Lilith, however, immediately comprehended what had happened.

A witch’s power came from nature, and they were unable to resurrect the dead but when a magical being died their power was sucked into a void that witches called the Nexus. The Nexus was an untappable, unlimited source of magic and Lilith realised that the four Jinn had absorbed the magic released into the Nexus at Indre’s death and used it to resurrect her daughter.

Lilith could only guess what her creations would be able to accomplish if they learned to exploit the deaths of her fellow witches for their own power. Fear and hatred for the Jinn’s unnatural magic erupted in Lilith’s heart, and she banished the four young adults from the village. Stripped of their guardian and their guide, the four Jinn fled into the hills.

Over the next ten years, Simeon sired thirteen children with Eve, Mary and Sarah and over the next seven hundred years the Jinn grew in numbers until they began to rival witches as the dominant magical race. But as the Jinn grew in numbers, the witches fear at the source of their powers grew. Tensions rose and before long, the witches began hunting the Jinn down in an attempt to keep their numbers down.

The two races were equally matched in combat and the Jinn continued to grow in numbers. A conference of witches from across the Old World gathered, and it was decided that drastic measures were needed to eliminate the Jinn once and for all.

The witches had abandoned the creation of new magical beings after the Jinn but now they set out to create new supernatural species; subservient but vicious. Between 300 BC and 300 AD, first the vampires, then the werewolves and finally the Harpies were created as the soldiers of witchcraft. The new species rapidly built on their numbers and went on the attack. Slowly at first but increasing exponentially over the centuries, the Jinn went into decline as they were hunted down and slaughtered, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of numbers and the raw hatred the witches had indoctrinated their new creations to feel.

By the early twenty-first century, there were only a few hundred Jinn living around the world and in the United Kingdom, there lived one of the few remaining families of Jinn. This family could trace its lineage back across the millennia and had once been very powerful among their race. They now lived as fugitives, moving frequently, concealing their existence and avoiding the notice of the other supernaturals in the world. It had been generations since they had met another of their own kind and their own numbers had been slowly whittled down till only three cousins remained. And yet they still cherished the knowledge and the power of their ancestors, and they were called the Knights.

The Jinn Knights

Robert Knight was about halfway through his shift at the small corner shop where he worked. The owner of the shop; Mr Hadi, employed him four days a week to run the shop from eight in the morning until eight in the evening. The job paid minimum wage and Mr Hadi was a rather taciturn and irritable man who was no pleasure to work for by any standards. Robert worked in the shop because it was a discreet and nondescript job and Robert liked to keep a low profile. He was a young man of twenty-seven and he wore his brown hair short and usually had about three days’ worth of stubble across his jaw. His eyes were also brown and were full of a sense of integrity and trustworthiness but if you looked deeply, you would also see suffering.

Robert was kneeling in one of the narrow aisles of the shop restocking one of the shelves with packets of crisps. A hacking cough caused him to look over towards the till. His colleague Cynthia Howe was unwell, and her cough had been getting progressively worse all day. Robert had told her she should go home but she’d replied that Mr Hadi wouldn’t pay her for the missed time, and she couldn’t afford the lost pay. Robert was fond of Cynthia; she was the friend almost but never quite girlfriend who he’d dated a few times but mostly remained in the friend zone. Cynthia coughed again and Robert made up his mind, standing up he walked around the end of the aisle and heading to the rear door, knocked and entered the small office which Mr Hadi was currently occupying.

Mr Hadi looked up from the stock records with a frown.

What is it, Robert?

Cynthia is really not well, Mr Hadi, and I think she needs to go home, replied Robert.

I’ve already told her she can go home, Robert. If she won’t, that’s her choice.

She can’t afford to lose a day’s pay.

And I can’t afford to pay someone who is not working, which goes for you too if you keep wasting my time.

Robert leaned forward and firmly took his employers hand in his, instantly Mr Hadi froze rigidly in his chair and his eyes turned milky white. Robert’s eyes turned jet black and fixed firmly on the older man’s.

You will send Cynthia home now, with full sick pay until she feels well enough to return.

As the command took control of Mr Hadi’s mind, his eyes turned jet black to match the Jinn’s and as Robert released his grip, both men’s eyes returned to normal. Mr Hadi shook his head slightly and then said.

Please tell Cynthia to go home with full sick pay, Robert, and that we’ll see her when she feels better. Are you able to manage the rest of the shift on your own?

Yes, Mr Hadi, Robert replied and he left the room.

Robert returned to the till where Cynthia was just completing a sale. As the customer left the shop, Robert leaned in towards Cynthia’s ear and whispered Mr Hadi’s instructions to her. Cynthia’s blue eyes widened with surprise, and she opened her mouth to speak. Before she could begin, Robert winked at her and murmured.

Go and get better and when you come back, I’ll take you to dinner.

Cynthia smiled at him and grabbing her coat from under the counter she left the shop, coughing again as she did so.

The shop closed at seven in the evening and Robert locked the door behind the last customer and closed the metal shutters over the window. Holding out his hands, a broom, a mop and a bucket of water appeared in a puff of white smoke. Heaving himself on to the counter, Robert proceeded with a series of complicated hand gestures, conducting the movement of the broom and the mop as they cleaned the little shop. Once they’d finished a click of the fingers caused them to vanish into smoke once more and Robert proceeded to turn out the lights and step out into the streetlamp glow of the night.

Sometimes, he took the form of an owl or a bat and flew home but tonight he walked at a steady pace through the streets of Sheffield. After walking for about fifteen minutes, Robert arrived at the block of flats that he lived in. Taking the dilapidated lift to the ninth floor, Robert turned down the corridor to flat twenty-six. Through the door he could hear the television blaring, he rolled his eyes and opening the door he stepped in. More than a dozen beer cans littered the floor around the living space and lounging across the sofa, Robert’s cousin Sean lay looking at the television with bleary eyes.

For God’s sake, Sean! exclaimed Robert nudging a beer can with his foot.

Sod off, Robert, replied Sean, conjuring another beer and taking a swig. Go and bother Jemma; why don’t you? And leave me alone.

Robert started to speak again but a loud belch from his cousin drowned his words, and he gave up with a shrug.

Leaving the front room, Robert walked down the small corridor towards the three bedrooms. There was a door at the end of the corridor and a door on either side. Knocking on the middle door, Robert entered his cousin Jemma’s room.

His cousin looked up at him from the desk in front of the window and smiled. Like her brother Sean, she had blue eyes and fair hair, in her case hanging down to just below her shoulders. The tips of her fair hair were dyed a deep black posing a striking contrast to her face. She was slender and pretty and in Robert’s opinion she was the smartest of the family. She was a qualified nurse and she kept busy running shifts at the nearest hospital. This evening she sat at her desk in a dressing gown with a set of cards laid out in front of her.

Hey, Robert.

Hey, Jemma, what’s up with your brother? He’s out there drinking himself into oblivion.

Oh, he found out his girlfriend is cheating on him. Apparently, she kept cancelling dates at short notice, saying she had to work overtime. So, with typical subtlety, my brother broke into her car and took the form of a driver’s manual. She got into the car with a work colleague, drove to an empty car park and started making out.

Poor Sean, Robert said, shaking his head.

Yeah, replied Jemma, he got home about two hours ago and has been drinking ever since.

Well, he’d better stop before he gives you a chance to treat liver damage.

Jemma shook her head.

I’m planning to wait till he passes out and then use matter decimation to break down the alcohol molecules before he causes any harm to himself.

Good idea, so did you have a good shift?

Yeah, not bad, mostly just minor ailments that could have gone to their GP, a few serious lacerations and a stroke. It’s been since getting home that I’ve been a bit more worried.

Sean? queried Robert, raising an eyebrow.

No, the cards, Jemma replied, gesturing at the cards in front of her. These cards had been enchanted by their great grandfather by channelling the death of a werewolf that had attacked him in the late eighteen hundreds. Their great grandfather had lost a hand in the fight and created the cards; the symbols of which changed to indicate the future.

Robert supressed a grin. His cousin was obsessed with the cards and had consulted them on a regular basis since she was twelve. Robert had lived with his cousins since his mother had been killed in a Harpy attack when he was fifteen. His mother had fought four on one against the Harpies and had died of her injuries. Robert was taken in by his mother’s sister who had herself died three years ago of leukaemia.

Why are you worried about the cards? he asked now.

Look at the symbols, Jemma replied.

Robert looked down at the cards laid out in a square, three by three. On the bottom row was a pumpkin, which Robert assumed was representative of Halloween, a fortnight away. There was also an eye and a crescent moon within a square, the symbol for werewolf. In the middle row was the symbol for werewolf, the symbol for vampire; a crescent moon inside an inverted triangle and the symbol for Harpy; a rayed sun within a diamond. Each symbol was repeated three times on the card. On the top row was a shadowy figure wearing a crown and flanking it on either side was the angel of death.

It’s hard to know what the cards show. He reassured his cousin, And they change all the time, keep an eye on them for a few days. Jemma nodded and glanced at the clock. It was nearly 11 o’clock and as he glanced at it to, Robert was fighting a yawn.

I’m going to bed, Jemma said. Robert nodded and wishing her good night he left the room.

Robert returned briefly to the living area and found his cousin passed out on the sofa. Extending his hands, Robert felt them grow hot as they began to glow red, and he slowly destroyed the alcohol molecules in his cousin’s stomach and bloodstream. As the glow faded, Robert left his cousin sleeping and went to his bedroom. Stripping to his boxers, Robert climbed into bed thinking of the cards. He could see why his cousin was worried, but the cards frequently changed, sometimes staying blank for weeks and other times predicting things that never came to pass. It also depended on how you interpreted the cards. Robert closed his eyes and as he fell asleep his last thought was hoping that Cynthia would get better soon.

Robert woke up the next morning and took his time getting up on his day off. He got dressed in relaxed comfortable clothes and headed out into the living area. He knew Jemma would already be on shift at the hospital and he could hear Sean in the shower. He flicked on the news and sat eating a bowl of cereal as he watched the headlines.

Sean came out of the bathroom and into the living room still wrapped in a towel and shaking his wet hair out of his eyes.

Hey, Rob, he said trying to sound more nonchalant than he really felt after the discoveries of last night.

Hey, Sean, listen bad luck yeah, Robert said. Sean grimaced.

I’d rather not talk about it to be honest Rob, he replied.

Your call. Robert smiled. But come on get dressed. Robert pointed at Sean who swore loudly in shock as in a sudden puff of smoke he was fully clad in jeans, t-shirt and denim jacket. Your sister is on shift and you’re coming with me for a bit of distraction.

Sean raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask any questions, knowing his cousin to well to think he would give anything away. Going down to the small garage that they rented, they mounted the two Ducati motorcycles they had conjured for themselves last Christmas and roared out through the streets of Sheffield in the direction of the Peak District National Park.

After riding their motorbikes for about an hour, Robert pulled onto a dirt track and followed it up into some hills that were miles from any buildings or main roads. Robert stopped the engine and climbed off his bike and a few seconds later, Sean followed suit. Silence reigned over the hills a gentle rain falling from the sky. Robert waved his hand and about a hundred clay pigeon discs appeared piled on the ground.

I thought a little target practice might help you vent some anger. Robert grinned.

Flinging out his hand, three of the discs were propelled telekinetically into the air. Sean stared at the discs and felt the build-up of energy behind his eyes, hear the gradually increasing whine within his ears as the psionic energy charged and releasing it with his mind three almost imperceptible flashes of violet light and two of the three discs shattered in the air. The third fell to the floor about six hundred metres away and Robert summoned it back with a twitch of his finger. It came zooming straight at Sean’s head and broke into a dozen shards under the onslaught of psionic energy that impacted it. Already, Robert was sending another five discs flying across the moorland on different trajectories and Sean was spinning on his heel, the hill awash with flashes of violet light and the sharp cracking sound of the clay discs as the bursts of energy made contact.

For nearly two hours, they kept it up as gradually Sean destroyed all the clay discs that Robert had conjured. Sean was red with exertion, sweat dripping from his nose and from his fair hair. His eyes still held a faint luminosity from all the energy that had passed through them.

Feel better? Robert asked with a sympathetic smile.

Sean nodded his head, still gasping for breath from the effort he’d put in. The whole time he had been destroying Robert’s targets he had not spoken a word about the cheating bitch he had thought was the one, the love of his life, but the work out had been cathartic, and he felt much better.

There’ll be other fish in the sea, Robert assured him, with your shapeshifting, you can be whatever any woman desires.

What about what you desire, Rob? You fancy that girl you work with, but you won’t make a proper move. It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t go anywhere in the long run, Rob, just so long as you’re both true to what you want in the here and now.

Robert didn’t answer and remounting their motorbikes, the two cousins rode back home in silence each musing on the other’s words.

Robert thought a lot about his cousin’s words over the next two weeks, but it was not until the day before Halloween that Cynthia returned to work. Her cheeks were rosy with good health and her spirits were high as the two colleagues chatted whilst stocking the shelves. Mr Hadi was not present at the shop and that only boosted the good humour that prevailed throughout the day. It wasn’t until the late afternoon that Robert decided to take his cousins advice and make a move. Clearing his throat nervously, he approached Cynthia where she stood restocking the milk.

Cynthia, he began, I was wondering if you’d like to come to dinner with me this evening after work?

Cynthia flushed pink and smiled nervously. After a moment, she nodded.

I’d like that, Robert.

That’s great, where would you like to go?

There’s a small restaurant just a couple of streets away. The food is nice and they create a sort of intimate setting, no large parties, just tables for two by candlelight, live pianist. Does that sound okay?

She was smiling shyly at him as she spoke about the restaurant and Robert thought how pretty she looked. Emboldened by the smile and the subtle hints behind her restaurant suggestion, he took her hand in his.

It sounds perfect, he replied and squeezing her hand, they both returned to work for the last few hours before going to dinner.

When they arrived, the restaurant was as Cynthia had described it the lights were turned down low and a candelabra burned on each table set for two. The tables, only eight in total, were arranged in front of a raised platform where a grand piano stood, and a pianist sat playing a smooth, gentle tune.

The tables were draped with a tablecloth in either red or white and next to the candelabra stood a complementary bottle of wine; white on the tables clothed in red and red on the tables clothed in white. Cynthia sat down at one of the tables with a red tablecloth and the candlelight shone off her golden hair and reflected in her blue eyes. Robert sat down opposite her and poured the wine. They made their choices from the menu and as they waited, they talked in a way that was freer and more intimate then they had ever talked before and flirtatious words and smouldering glances bounced back and forth across the little table as the candles burned, and the romantic music flowed around them.

When they left the restaurant, Robert walked Cynthia the mile back to her flat as it was now past ten o’clock and the streets were dark but quiet as they walked. Reaching the door, Cynthia opened it and turning to him she almost whispered, Would you like to come in? Her eyes clearly communicating that she hoped he would. Robert hesitated for a split second but remembering his cousin’s words he pressed his hand gently against the small of her back and escorted her over the threshold straight into her tiny living room. Sitting down on the sofa, Robert didn’t hesitate and pulled Cynthia tight to his chest and pressed his lips passionately against hers. Cynthia wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kisses eagerly, both their breath quickening with the intensity of feeling.

Cynthia shifted her hands onto Robert’s chest and pushed up under his shirt and after a moment, it was laying on the floor and her fingers were tracing the lines of the tattoo on his chest; a raven holding a ring of seven flowers in its beak. Robert’s firm fingers began unbuttoning Cynthia’s blouse and brushed over the patterned lace bra. Shifting position, they sank into the sofa cushions, Robert lying across her as they continued to kiss passionately.

Robert left Cynthia’s flat about forty minutes later and ducking into a shadowy corner, he took the form of a barn owl and took off into the night. As he flew, he thought of the last hour with Cynthia. They had both wanted for him to stay the night but had also not wanted to rush things, they had agreed he would leave now, and they would go to dinner again after their shift in two nights from now.

Swooping over a small church, hidden among a number of larger recent builds Robert landed on a headstone. His body rippled and morphed back into his human appearance, and he knelt by the tombstone of Alice Knight, born 1958 and died 1995. Beloved mother and sister.

Hi, Mum, Robert said to the night. I’ve got quite a bit to tell you tonight. Sean and Jemma are well. Jemma’s been a bit busy with hospital shifts but Sean and I have gone up into the National Park a few times recently and done various training exercises. Jemma’s a bit spooked by the cards, they’ve shown the same thing for a fortnight now and she’s worried about what it means.

Robert stopped speaking for a moment and brushed some cobwebs off of his mother’s headstone.

"I’ve got a bit of a