Queen of Cahraman: A Retelling of Aladdin (Fairytales of Folkshore Book 3)

by Lucy Tempest

  He told her all that, as briefly as our current situation allowed, and she only waved him away and said, “Just promise to get me out of here so I can go home.”

  “I will,” he pledged. “And any help you need in breaking the curse or anything else, I am at your service, always.” She nodded, eyes downcast, and he added, “But you need to go now Fairuza. Cora will take you out of the palace, and we have a flying carpet waiting outside to take you out of Sunstone.”

  She looked at me, alarmed. “What will you do?”

  “We’ll face Nariman,” I said.

  “You ca…” Fairuza stopped, shook her head. “Do what you must do. I hope I will see you again before…”

  She turned away and rushed towards the stairs. With a stitch in my heart, I wished for Esfandiar to let her find Cora then return to us.

  After exchanging a look with Cyrus, sharing our pain for her, and our determination to face Nariman, I reached for the handle shaped like a simurgh’s forefoot. My head was still pounding and my mouth was dry. Even with Cyrus by my side, I dreaded facing Nariman again, and—

  My hand gripped air.

  Confused, I reached again and before my fingertips could touch the metal, it looked farther away, like the ground between us had stretched.

  “Are you okay, Ada?”

  I heard Cyrus’s concerned voice. He no longer sounded near.

  “Yes, yes, I just hit my head…” I reached for the handle again and this time, I didn’t come near. I took a step closer and the door only receded.

  This wasn’t in my head. This was a spell. To thwart anyone who tried to enter.

  “This is some bizarre magic.” I swung around, found Esfandiar beside me. “The effort to keep this up must be draining.”

  “Can you undo whatever this is?” I asked.

  “If I can figure out what it is, maybe.”

  “It’s an illusion,” I said.

  It was only then I realized the noise behind us had faded into echoes that bounced off the cold stone and marble.

  I swung around to find emptiness. All the fighters had vanished.

  “Were they an illusion? Or had she transported them all away?” I turned to get Cyrus’s opinion and—he was gone!

  Panic exploded in my head as I rounded on Esfandiar. “Do something!”

  “What would you wish me to do?”

  “Can’t you do anything without me wishing it?”

  “No, I can’t,” he crossed his arms grouchily. “That’s the curse of being a genie in a bottle, or in my case, in there and also in your ring.”

  Mortification warred with my panic, underlining something I hadn’t wanted to fully consider.

  He was my prisoner.

  He had no choice but to obey me. And by being bound to me, he probably couldn’t access the full extent of his power. He was limited by the letter of my own whims and imagination.

  “Can I set you free?” I blurted out.

  His eyes widened as he went a shade of puce.

  Then he cleared his throat, for the first time seeming to have difficulty speaking. “I’ve never heard of masters wishing genies free. I never dreamed my first Mistress would even consider it, especially since being what I am means I’m bound to you for life. But if you truly mean it, don’t wish it, not now. After centuries of confinement, if you set me free, I might not be able to resist the impulse to leave. And I’d like to stay with you, see this through to the end.”

  My lips wobbled. “So I’m not forcing you to stay or answer my commands anymore?”

  “You’re not, by intention, but by reality, you must still command me to do anything.”

  “I wish you to get Cyrus back.”

  He shook his head. “For some reason, I can’t see him.”

  Bile rose in my throat. “This must be Nariman’s idea of a sick joke. Taking him away and leaving me alone and stuck at her door.”

  Esfandiar’s eyes warmed to an almost human amber. “In my mortal travels, I’ve found myself in situations like this, full of dead ends, dark paths and wrong turns that could have ended with me lost or dead. But I found that, given enough thought, the foreign can become familiar.” He took my hand between both of his, tapping my ring. “And little power in the right hands is far better than great power in the wrong ones.” I opened my mouth but he raised a finger. “Remember, vague or reactionary wishes could get you either nothing or the worst outcome.”

  But I was overflowing with vague and reactionary thoughts!

  I’d survived the impossible, had come so close to having everything I wanted, but like those doors, everything had only kept getting farther away from me. Everything had always been just bait. A mirage. Right before me, but I could never reach it

  Stop it. Prove Cyrus and mother right. They had faith you’d know what to do when the time came. Think.

  This was a barrier and a trap in one. But during my thieving years, I’d come across all manner of both, but none had deterred me. Nothing would now.

  I grabbed Esfandiar’s arm. “You said magic is very specific. And this door is keeping me from entering the throne room—specifically.”

  Intrigued, he nodded. “Yes?”

  “Esfandiar, I wish I was in the throne room’s balcony.”

  Eyes aglow, he bowed his head to me. “As my Mistress wishes.”

  The dim hall disappeared as I felt myself become insubstantial, only for the harsh light of midday to burst through me before I solidified again, facing the mutilated city below.

  Before he puffed away, as per my earlier order to not let Nariman even suspect his existence, I caught him back. “I think I know why you can’t reunite with your other part. Because I haven’t wished you to.”

  He looked gobsmacked. I know how he felt. It hadn’t occurred to me either till this moment. I could be wrong. But here went nothing.

  “Esfandiar, I wish that you reunite with your other part in my ring.”

  And just like that, with a massive smile of absolute bliss, Esfandiar faded into fiery smoke and was siphoned into my ring.

  Taking a deep breath, I turned away from Sunstone and kicked the balcony doors open.

  The sight that greeted me froze my blood solid.

  Right in the center of the throne room, high on a platform, King Darius sat on his gilded throne in a jewel-studded cloak. The queen’s throne beside him was empty.

  Flanking the arch-backed thrones, lesser seats spread in an arc. The one by him was empty, followed by Loujaïne, Fairuza, Prince Miraz and Princess Aurelia. Behind them were Cherine, Ayman and Farouk, and on his other side, by the empty queen’s seat were my mother and Cora. None of them had escaped.

  All were dressed in the finest silks and jewelry and styled to perfection. But though there were chains on them, they sat there, staring ahead, patient, like they were waiting for something to begin.

  Waiting for the queen to hold her court.

  But where is Cyrus?

  Would she now enter the throne room on his hypnotized arm?

  The fireplace to my left flared up. My skin almost pooled to the floor, but I held my stance. I wasn’t letting her know how much she scared me. She couldn’t read minds. And my mind was my only weapon.

  Through the crackling of flames and the racing of my heart, I heard the hiss of her furious voice. “You just couldn’t stay away, could you?”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The balcony doors slammed shut behind me, and the curtains were yanked shut, sinking the room into instant twilight.

  Nariman appeared before me, bathed in the firelight, her staff’s eyes burning a hypnotic red. But I was an old hand at dealing with it, met her gaze instead, showing her I wasn’t afraid.

  But nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.

  Nariman wasn’t the regal beauty I’d last seen. She was an unnerving, twitching figure, hair streaked with grey, face sunken and pale and breathing loud and uneven.

  She was halfway to becoming the sinister crone I’d
once believed all witches to be. Halfway to becoming Marzeya in months rather than centuries.

  As if to interrupt my horrified examination, she struck her staff down with an echoing thunk. The staff’s eyes flickered, dulling for an instant before brightening again. I could have sworn her eyes did the same.

  “I have to say, I’m impressed you made it back,” she spoke in a rush, out of breath. “And you wasted no time storming my palace, like you hadn’t taken enough from me.”

  My feelings about her flip-flopped from rage and hatred to pity and empathy faster than the flutter of a bee’s wings.

  But among all the things she’d done, only one filled my mind now. “You exiled us!”

  Nariman’s surprise broke her rage, quieting her breathing.

  Feeling very brave, I poked her in the chest. “You did to us what Darius did to you. ”

  A hint of fear crept into her haggard face. “Where is he?”

  I stomped my foot. “What do you care? You literally threw him away!”

  Her hand clawed over her heart. “I did not.”

  “You did leave us in the Land of No Return to die of exposure, just like the people you hate left Ayman.”

  “Don’t you dare compare me to those depraved royals!”

  “You think you’re better? You’re worse!”

  She backhanded the air before me, sending me flying across the room. “Shut up!”

  I hit the carpet with a roll, coming dangerously close to the raging flames of the fireplace.

  Nariman advanced, holding her staff like a club and a scratch of heavy friction behind me had all my hairs standing on end. But it threw Nariman off, allowing me to kick her legs out from under her.

  As she fell, the fireplace shifted aside, revealing a tunnel. Disheveled and bloodstained, holding a torch of green fire, Cyrus climbed out.

  “Good afternoon, Your Majesty,” he said in deadly calm. “I demand an audience with the queen to discuss the concerns of the people.”

  My heart soared at the sight of him. I could only assume he’d been transported with the mob, and that was why he remained free. All the others who’d been where she could see them individually had been plucked and brought here and…

  It was a second too late that I realized I’d turned my back on Nariman.

  I tried to turn and she shoved her staff in my face. The red eyes caught me and I immediately dropped on my side, limbs heavy, thoughts as slow and calm as the ebb and flow of a lake.

  Peace was a beautiful feeling. It filled my head with a pleasant, aromatic fog that soothed me, made me forget why I was even here. I just wanted to curl up on the carpet and sink into sleep, reap the relaxation I was owed after months of teeth-grinding tension.

  “Cyrus,” Nariman gasped, stepping over me. “Where have you been?”

  “Where have I been?” His incredulous laugh rang around the room, pricking hairline fractures into my equanimity. “You flung us into a wasteland! You left me to die!”

  “I did not!” She banged her cane again, a red blast sending him stumbling back a step. “You flung yourself after her! I only left you there for a couple of days to teach you a lesson, and when I went to retrieve you, you were gone!”

  “Teach me a lesson?”

  “Yes, that’s what you do with disobedient children, and in her case, insurgents.” Her breathing was erratic again. “How dare you, after all these years, think I’d try to kill you?”

  “You were going to kill my father.” Steel sliced through his calm tone. “In a public execution no less.”

  Nariman let out an unsteady cackle, and I noticed someone in the distance move. “Do I look like your mad grandfather to you? When you didn’t turn up in my orb, I knew you must have found an exit to another realm, had to know if you were back yet. So what better way to make you come home running?”

  Cyrus’s grimness softened. “You weren’t going to kill him?”

  For a moment she seemed about to blurt out a denial. Then a wave of agony crossed her face. “Why would I let him off so easy? I don’t want him or your wretch of an aunt to die, I want them to suffer.” She shook again, and my eye caught another sudden movement. “If I couldn’t have her respect, couldn’t have his love, then I want their submission, their fear.”

  A spasm went through her and the light of her staff went off.

  So did my sleepy state.

  Vision clearing, I saw the source of movement. Ayman breaking free from his seat.

  He slammed into Nariman, almost knocked the staff from her grip. “What about me? You turned me to stone. What’s your excuse for that?”

  Nariman caught her staff, swung it at Ayman. He ducked and she raised a hand, a white flash bursting from her palm, sending him flying back. “What’s your excuse? After all I’ve done for you? I made sure you were taken care of for years, I led Cyrus to you, let him bring you home, put you in front of your stupid mother, tried to appease her, but she took it as an offense and fought even harder to get rid of me. And after I was banished, did you think of me? I still offered for you to join me. I could have given you everything, made you heir to your father’s title and fortune, let you marry that Nazaryan brat you’re enamored with. But what did you do? You tried to stab me, you ungrateful runt.”

  “You could have stopped me a dozen other ways!” Ayman gritted. “If not for Cyrus and Ada, I would have remained a statue forever.”

  “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. You were in no danger. Nothing could have broken you. I would have eventually thawed you out. But since only a parent’s or full sibling’s blood could have also done that, it seems I did you a favor after all, gotten that rigid, suspicious mother of yours to prove she does have blood in her veins, and use it to admit you’re her son.”

  As she talked, Nariman’s hair went from greying at the temples to fully white and her face had aged another ten, terrible years.

  When Ayman moved again, she hit him with a red blast. Dread was like water in my lungs, but he didn’t petrify. Chains grew out from the floor, bound him, ankles and wrists, keeping him on his knees no matter how hard he struggled.

  Cyrus rushed to his side, pulling on the chains. “Free him!”

  “You saw what happens when people are free around me. They attack me and I’m not giving anyone that chance ever again.”

  Cyrus straightened. “Is this what you always wanted? People in chains, submitting to your will? Was this what you had in mind as you shaped my education as future king? Did you plan to rule over a kingdom like this one through me?”

  “This isn’t what I planned! The fates have been undermining me since I met your wretched father.” She now trembled like she was drenched in the dead of winter. “I’ve been overextending my power, to maintain any kind of stability for weeks, but no matter what, I can’t return Cahraman to what it was.”

  Cyrus stood before her now, hands clenched at his sides. “You wished for this!”

  She shuddered. “Not like this. It was never meant to be like this, but—but—” She bent over, looking ready to collapse. “This is like last time. I get what I need at first, then it all rots.”

  He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  She was talking about her first wish for Cyrus’s birth. The fallout had been disastrous. It had snowballed in Jumana’s terrible end, my mother’s escape and Nariman remaining the hostage of a paranoid king. Now her second with to be queen hadn’t given her anything she coveted. Not the kingdom as she knew it, or its people’s loyalty or the respect of foreign leaders. It just made her a dictator of a decaying land. And now it was killing her.

  I put the ring to my mouth, but the wish to find the lamp didn’t exit my lips. A rod of red light hit me in the gut, spawning a bundle of chains that bound my arms to my sides.

  But with her powers flickering, the strongest of will and body kept breaking free. Charging her next was Cora, who could barely move in the dress Nariman had put her in. But the effort it took to rebuff her attack further b
roke Nariman’s hold on everything else.

  While Cora joined Ayman, bound to the floor, hissing, spitting and attempting to bite Nariman’s hands, Farouk was next, followed by my mother.

  Farouk was flung back with a blast, but he provided my mother with enough time to hit her with a crackling ball of blue light. The shock made Nariman yell out in pain and drop her staff.

  “Welcome back, traitor,” she stuttered angrily, twisting as she fought against the hex.

  “It’s not too late to let this go,” my mother pleaded. “Your heart will give out if you continue expending so much energy compelling every guard in the land while trying to restore it.”

  “Oh, so now you care about my well-being? You left me behind and never came back for me.” My mother opened her mouth, no doubt to explain how Jumana’s thoughtless wish had affected her, but Nariman shrieked, “You went on with your life and the one time I asked for help you fled out of this world!”

  My mother clenched her glowing fists, infuriated. “I fled to hide her from you!”

  “Why? What exactly did you think I was going to do?”

  She pointed at me, at all of us then to the balcony, matching her shriek. “This!”

  “Liar!” Nariman spat. “None of this would have happened if you’d offered to help me. You knew what Xerxes was doing to me, because he did it to you, too. But after you ran away, his favorite pastime was asking me if I preferred rotting in the dungeons or being executed. He blamed me for Jumana’s death and exacted his vengeance on me in ways that made me wish he’d chop my head off and be done with it.” Her breath hitched loudly. “If you opened one more lousy portal to bring me home, none of this would have happened!”

  “But would you have left my daughter alone if you returned to Almaskham? The prophecy showed her bringing you the lamp when she was older, and you saw yourself being crowned. You would have done anything so it comes true! You would have taken her away from me, to raise her to your specifications, her whole life just a means to your end.”

  “I wouldn’t have, but now we’ll never know what I would have done, would we? Because you ran away like a coward!”