The Forbidden Wish(20)

“Well, I guess you don’t know me well enough,” says Aladdin darkly. “I’m not my father. I’m not some kind of rebel or leader. I took the job from Xaxos for the money, nothing else.”

“Enough,” sighs Caspida, holding up a hand. “Thief, the ring you stole belongs to me. It’s been in my family’s possession for hundreds of years, going all the way back to my ancestress Roshana the Wise.”

The fur on my back prickles, drawing a concerned pat from Ensi. You had no such ring, Habiba. Surely I would have known if you had such a powerful talisman in your possession—especially one meant to lead the wearer to me. My interest in this ring expands tenfold, and I wish sorely it had not been lost.

“This is taking entirely too long,” Khavar says. “Just search him!”

“I’ll do it!” Ensi volunteers, her eyes lighting up.

“All right, fine!” Aladdin twists away from her reaching hands. “I stole the ring!”

Ensi withdraws regretfully, and Caspida’s eyes sharpen. “Go on.”

“I did steal it, and I absolutely meant to give it to your man Xaxos. But . . . I lost it in the desert.”

She frowns. “What were you doing in the desert?”

He pauses and chews his lip, studying her a moment before replying. “Princess, have you ever worn the ring?”

She hesitates. “Once.”

“And what did you feel?”

“Feel? Nothing. Why would you ask that?”

“When I put it on, it . . . sort of spoke to me. Not in words, really, but . . . sort of like a rope pulling at a horse. It led me into the desert, like it wanted to show me something.”

The girls are suitably rapt, leaning closer. Their flickering torches throw dancing shadows over their faces.

“Well?” asks Ensi. “What did you find?”

He shrugs. “Nothing. It just stopped. Like it had reached whatever it was pulling me toward. But there was nothing there except some old ruins. Maybe there never was anything there. Anyway, Darian caught up to me then, and he took it back.”

She wrinkles her brow perplexedly. “You mean the ruins of Neruby, the old Amulen capital. But the place is empty, said to be haunted by the jinn. You’re sure there was nothing?”

“Just sand and broken towers.” He tilts his head, his eyes glittering with torchlight. “What did you think it led to?”

She looks around at each of her girls, then back at Aladdin, her eyes full, as if she is weighing whether or not to tell him.

“I don’t know,” she says at last. She is a good liar, and I nearly miss the elevation in her heartbeat and the slightest pause before she speaks. But I cannot see into her thoughts to tell what she truly does know about the ring and about the lamp. Does she know it leads to me? And does she know who I am, or that she and I are linked through you, Habiba, her mighty ancestress?

Unsettled, I look closer at her and her friends, trying to discern what their goal is. The girls are all Amulen, it seems, except for one—the quiet one who listens and says little. Nessa, with her dark skin and hair, is Tytoshi, judging by her appearance and accent, though by her dress and fluent Amulen, she’s been in Parthenia for a while. Her hair is twisted into dreadlocks, each one tipped in hardened silver that tinkles musically when she moves. Only royalty wear silver in their hair; everyone else’s locks are tipped in bronze or copper. What is a Tytoshi princess doing this far north?

Then I spot something tucked beneath her black cloak, and my hackles rise. To get a closer look, I jump onto Ensi’s shoulder, then leap onto Nessa’s. Surprised, she takes me in her arms and strokes my head. I nose under her cloak and sniff the flute she carries on her hip, then back away hissing.

“You’re hurting her!” says Ensi, snatching me back. It’s all right. I found out what I needed to know.

That’s no ordinary flute, and Nessa is no ordinary girl.

She’s a jinn charmer, capable of hypnotizing my kind with that flute, inlaid with Eskarr glyphs, and trapping us in bottles. I watch her mistrustfully and know that more than ever, we have to get away, and fast.

Because now I know where Zhian is.





Chapter Eight


TURNING AWAY FROM ALADDIN, Caspida signals to her girls, and they gather close around her, out of Aladdin’s earshot.

“Do you believe him?” asks Ensi in a whisper, curling my tail around her finger.

“Of course she doesn’t believe him,” Khavar interjects. “He’s a thief. His very nature is dishonest.”

“I’m not sure I do believe him,” says Caspida slowly, running her finger thoughtfully over her dagger’s blade and looking over her shoulder at Aladdin. He stands with his hands in his pockets, trying to look harmless. “After all, where is Darian? How did the thief escape my cousin and his men and manage to make it to the city before them? Has anyone heard from Darian in the past week?”

Ensi shakes her head. “I’ve been intercepting every message sent by pigeon, and there’s been nothing from the prince.”

“What of my uncle? Has Sulifer had contact with him?”

“Not that I know of. The vizier rarely leaves the council chambers and keeps his business secret.”

“You were right in the beginning, Khavar,” sighs the princess. “We should never have hired a third party to steal the ring back. I should have done it myself.”