The Forbidden Wish(93)

“Aladdin!” She rises stiffly to greet us. “And . . .” She stares at me, uncertain.

“I’m still Zahra,” I assure her. “Just with a new face. It’s a . . . jinn thing.”

She doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she shrugs wearily. “What happened?”

“We met the Shaitan, and he fell.”

She spreads her hands. “Is that all? We had jinn dropping from the sky! The wards are broken, and the Eristrati are under guard until they swear allegiance to me, so we can’t possibly—”

“They are gone,” I cut in. “And the alomb is destroyed. They will have to use one of the others to enter this world, but it will be many years before that happens. Princess, it is over. We won.”

She stares at me for a long moment, as if afraid to believe it, but then she shuts her eyes and lets out a sigh.

“Gods be praised,” she whispers. “It is over.”

“What about Sulifer?” asks Aladdin. “And Darian?”

“Darian is imprisoned until we can hold a proper trial. And my uncle . . .” She winces and glances behind us.

We turn and see a stake driven into the ground, a severed head atop it. My stomach turns over, and I look away.

“He should have been tried as well,” Caspida says. “But the people got to him first.”

“So it really is over,” Aladdin murmurs. He seems tired rather than pleased to see his lifelong enemy dead. I take his hand and squeeze it, and he gives me a little smile.

“What do we do now?” asks Ensi, looking around at the destruction.

“We mourn what has been lost,” Caspida replies. “And tomorrow, we rise.”





Chapter Thirty-One


I SENSE THE BOY the moment he sets foot in the garden.

I am lying on the fresh grass, holding a rose to my face and inhaling its sweet scent, and at the sound of his footsteps on the gravel path, I sit up.

“Zahra?” He looks around, his eyes brightening when he sees me. He walks over and sits, removing his turban and setting it beside him. “It’s almost time for the coronation. What are you doing out here by yourself?”

“Hiding from Caspida’s tailors. You’re looking princely,” I say, smiling at Aladdin and reaching out to run my hand along his fine red coat.

He grins and pulls me closer, into a deep kiss. In the weeks since the Invasion, as the Parthenians have come to call their clash with the jinn, we have hardly been out of each other’s sight. Though no one regards him as a prince anymore, Aladdin is a regular visitor to the palace, where he has been named Queen’s Liaison to the Southern District. He helps with the rebuilding efforts, which have paradoxically included a good deal of destroying as well as building, since the walls between the districts have been brought down for good in an attempt to unify the people.

I lay on my back, and Aladdin leans over me, his lips exploring the line of my jaw. I shut my eyes, wishing we could stay out here all afternoon, while the garden is deliciously deserted. But Caspida wants us both standing by her during the coronation, and we promised to be there.

“We should go,” I murmur.

“Just a few more minutes. I feel like we’re never alone anymore. There’s always the queen or someone from the palace or . . .” His voice trails off, and he bites my earlobe playfully.

Laughing, I shove him away and sit up. “We promised.”

He groans and drops his turban over his face.

“Aladdin.” Pushing the turban aside, I run my fingers through his hair and lightly kiss his forehead.

“Have I told you I love you?” he whispers.

I smile. “Not since this morning.”

“Unforgivable. I will tell you every hour of every day.”

“Do not the poets say, the man who catches a fish every time he casts his line will soon tire of fishing? Now get up.”

I stand and pull him to his feet. He comes reluctantly, wrapping an arm around my waist. We stroll into the palace to find a panicking Nessa.

“There you are!” She rushes toward us. “I’ve been looking everywhere!” Stopping short, she takes in our flushed faces and rolls her eyes. “You’ve been kissing in the bushes again.”

Aladdin plucks a book from the satchel over her shoulder. “And you’ve been reading again. We all have our vices, Nessa.”

She snatches the book back. “Hurry! They’re about to start!”

? ? ?

It’s well past midnight when I’m summoned to the queen’s side. Aladdin is asleep in his old chambers, which are kept for him as a part of his new office, and when he stays at the palace I often join him. But though many of my jinn attributes are gone, I still do not sleep. Often I wander, through the palace and the city, marveling at how far I can go without worrying about the lamp pulling me back. Tonight, though, when Khavar comes to tell me Caspida wants to talk, I am sitting against one of the columns by the courtyard, feeding bits of bread to a stray goose that wandered into the yard a week ago and has since lain eggs beneath one of the fig trees.

Khavar is quiet as we walk through the palace, which has finally gone to bed after a long night of feasting in celebration of Caspida’s coronation—a ceremony long overdue, but in which she refused to indulge until the city’s restoration was complete. “What precedent does it set for my reign,” she had put it, “if I put my desire for the crown before the needs of my people?” So though she became a queen in everyone’s minds the day of the Invasion, tonight it was official, and the name of Caspida the First was inked into the great annals of the Amulen monarchy, the same annals where your name was written so long ago, Habiba.