“That is fine,” Nandor waved him off. “Guillermo will explain the internet to her. It is basically the same thing as magic anyway.”

The Djinn was bored. For a being that had spent five centuries trapped in a brass oil lamp, boredom was a relative term, but living in the Staten Island pantry with Guillermo de la Cruz was a new level of administrative tedium.

“Marwa!” Nandor cheered, throwing his arms wide. “The war has been over for seven hundred years! Welcome to Staten Island. It is like the afterlife, but with more strip malls.”