A Dead Djinn in Cairo (Dead Djinn Universe, #0.1)

by P. Djèlí Clark

And her father always said if people were going to stare, you should give them a show.

“Anyway, when I bought my first suit, the English tailor asked me why I wanted it. I told him I wanted to look exotic.”

“May you be found in peace and know His glory.

All that mystic political talk hurts my head. You let some people read Marx…”

If the arrival of djinn, alleged angels, and magic into the world had made many more faithful, it had led to a questioning of faith for others. Adherents to alternative philosophies had appeared, as well—esoteric mystics and spiritualists. It wasn’t long before some turned to Egypt’s most ancient religions. Denounced as idolaters, they were forced to move underground, where they could meet without persecution.

This land has enough gods as it is. Don’t need these dark upstarts.

“Look upon your world. So despoiled, so wanting. You are disobedient. Arrogant. You squabble. You war. This is not what He wanted. This is not what He created. He is perfect, and could not have made such imperfection. This is your doing. Your corruption.

Your kind can be remade. And I will help Him do so. But to fix an imperfection, the first creation must be cast aside.

Siti shrugged. “You angels. You made this God up. Maybe only a few higher-ups did at first. Then the rest of you believed it. But I think He’s made up all the same.”

not the siti atheism reveal!

Fatma raised an eyebrow. “The two of us? Share a meal?” “And why not?” “You’re an infidel. And maybe a little insane.”