The Forbidden Wish

by Jessica Khoury

  Aladdin reaches me just as the fighting breaks out. He is laughing wildly, throwing his head back and crowing. Leaping up onto the wall, he pulls me after him, waving his sword like a madman.

  “As soon as I told them who the Phoenix really was, that she needed our help, they dropped everything!” he says. “Look at them! They’re fantastic!”

  “And look at you,” I reply, smiling. “The revolution of one. Whatever happened to not fighting for lost causes?”

  “I guess I found a cause worth fighting for,” he murmurs, leaning in for a kiss, but then his eyes fix on something behind me, and his face hardens. I turn to see Caspida standing near the palace below a second-story balcony, her sword upraised and her Watchmaidens surrounding her. Above her, Sulifer leans over the railing, his eyes furious.

  “He won’t even come down and fight,” Aladdin growls. “The coward.”

  “Come on.” Grabbing Aladdin’s hand, I plunge through the battle, dodging spear and sword, until we reach Caspida’s side.

  “Come down, Uncle!” the princess calls. “It is finished!”

  “You think some rabble with kitchen knives makes you a queen?” he returns.

  Caspida glances back at the people, fighting tooth and nail against the better-equipped soldiers. To her uncle she replies, “They’re exactly what makes me a queen.”

  “Then let’s see how they fare against my real army.” He pulls from his cloak the black ram’s horn I made for him last night. Caspida frowns uneasily.

  “What is he doing?” she asks.

  “Just watch,” I murmur.

  Sulifer raises the horn to his lips and sounds the call. It rings across the grounds as the vizier lowers the horn and its blast echoes away. Caspida is very still, her hand clenching the hilt of her dagger.

  Behind us, the men and women continue fighting, the peasants moving in packs like wolves. More of them flood in from the city, until the noise is deafening. Sulifer sounds another blast, but it is nearly drowned out by the fight. He lowers the horn, his eyes settling on me, demanding an explanation.

  I lift my chin and stare defiantly at him. “Even the darkest shadow may not stand before the light of the sun,” I shout. “Every child knows this.”

  “You have broken the rules!” he shouts. “I said, ‘invincible to any and all forces either of Ambadya or of this world’!”

  “The sun is not of this world. It belongs to the heavens and to the gods. Your shadow men will not come, not until night.”

  “Surrender, Uncle!” Caspida calls. “Let no more die today! We can talk and settle this between us!”

  He only snarls in reply and turns to disappear inside the palace. Caspida starts toward the doors, intending to pursue him, but I catch her arm.

  “Princess, we have a bigger problem.”

  “What?”

  I point to Mount Tissia. Above its summit, dark clouds swirl and thunder, heralding the coming jinn. They give the mountain the appearance of an erupting volcano. “The Shaitan will be here any moment.”

  Caspida pales. “I thought we had more time.”

  “You have your fight here,” I say. “Let me handle Nardukha. Use your last wish to send me and Aladdin to Mount Tissia. It’s us he wants. If we don’t meet him there, he will come down on this city with the full force of Ambadya, and nothing will stop him then.”

  “I can come with you.”

  I shake my head. “This is where you belong, with your people.”

  She looks around at the chaos, the housewives and butchers, fishermen and beggars, many armed with nothing but bare fists against the organized Eristrati and palace guard. Caspida’s eyes flood with pride and sorrow.

  “You’re right,” she says, meeting my gaze. “But Zahra, you must stop him. We cannot become another Neruby.”

  I nod grimly and take Aladdin’s hand. He smiles, but I see the worry in his eyes. My skin flushes with shame. If only there were some way to keep him out of this, to face Nardukha on my own. But the Shaitan would tear Parthenia apart stone by stone to find the thief. The least we can hope for is that he will spare the city and its people.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Aladdin, I don’t know what will happen on that mountain. I don’t know if we can—”

  “Have faith, Smoky,” he says softly, cupping my face in his palm, “This isn’t over yet. Whatever happens, we’ll be together.”

  Caspida takes the lamp from her belt, as her Watchmaidens tighten their perimeter around us. The soldiers are regrouping, and half a dozen of them come charging toward the princess. Anxious knots twist in my stomach as they clash with the Watchmaidens, who barely hold their ground against the larger, stronger men.

  “Hurry, Caspida!” I urge.

  She nods and holds the lamp between us, her eyes meeting mine.

  “I wish for you, Zahra of the Lamp, and you, Aladdin of Parthenia, to go with all speed to the summit of Mount Tissia, and there defend us all from the Shaitan and his jinn.”

  At that moment the soldiers break through the Watchmaidens’ defense. Caspida whirls, drawing her sword, and throws the lamp toward Aladdin. He catches it, and the familiar bond forms between us once more.

  I am filled with Caspida’s wish, golden swirls of glittering magic racing along my skin. But still I hesitate, looking around at the soldiers closing in on Caspida and her girls. They fight wildly, hair flying, steel glinting, Ensi’s poisoned powders shimmering in the sunlight. An Eristrati, wielding an Eskarr scimitar, makes a dash for me, his blade lifted. Aladdin moves like lightning, throwing himself in front of me and tackling the man, heedless of the weapon. He punches the man once in the jaw before the Eristrati throws him wide and leaps to his feet, his scimitar falling toward Aladdin’s neck. But the man freezes, gasping, when Caspida’s blade drives through his back.

  “Go!” she shouts, blood streaked across her face, as she helps Aladdin to his feet. “This is our fight! Yours is on that mountain—so get out of here!”

  She shoves Aladdin toward me, and he grabs my hand. I ache with magic, no longer able to resist the pull of Caspida’s third wish. Leaving her to her battle, I pull Aladdin close and draw a screen of red smoke around us. Our clothes fluttering, we hold tight to one another and lock eyes as the world spins around us.

  The chaotic roar of the fight fades away, replaced by a deafening rush of wind. Aladdin crushes me against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around me, and he presses his lips to my forehead.

  “Together,” he whispers. “No matter what.”

  I cling to him with all my strength, sighing a little as the last of the magic drains away.

  Everything stops. The smoke falls away and dissipates. I let him hold me a moment longer before I pull away and draw a deep breath.

  Here I stand once more, right where everything began, on the stony, chilly peak of Mount Tissia. Around us, the summit stretches wide before dropping away, the ground a series of stony plateaus. No plants or animals are to be found here, where the wind is sharp as knives, gusting around us with an eerie howl. Swirling clouds gather above and below the peak, obscuring the lands in every direction, until it seems we stand utterly apart from the world.

  The alomb rises ahead, a massive structure built in the days when the gods walked the earth. Four corner pillars support a vaulting roof of black stone coursed with glowing blue veins, an ancient magic far more powerful than I could ever wield. It was quarried from the rock that once supported the great isle of Phaex, where the gods feasted every summer solstice, and which sank into the sea many ages ago. Once a doorway to either the godlands or Ambadya, now only the jinn use it, for the path to the gods has long been lost.

  In the center of the alomb stands the doorway itself, a perfectly round, seamless ring of stone. There are twelve such doorways in the world, each named for a different god. This one is known as the Eye of Jaal. T
wo massive buttresses carved in the likenesses of kneeling men frame either side, the sides of the ring supported on their backs.

  Usually the doorway sits empty and silent, but now a tunnel of fire swirls and flashes inside, creating a path to the world of the jinn. Blue and red and green the fires burn, hotter than any mortal flame, enough to turn a man from flesh to ashes in a heartbeat. From the Eye wafts the scent of sulfur and smoke.

  And then there are the jinn. They crouch all around us, hover in the air, some seen, some unseen. Ghuls and maarids, ifreet and sila. They are silent as death, watching with golden eyes. Many bare their teeth, silently hissing, making their hatred for me quite clear. To them, I am the ultimate traitor.

  Aladdin puts an arm around me, as if to guard me against the horde of jinn.

  “You know we don’t stand a chance,” I whisper.

  Aladdin looks down at me, his hand squeezing my arm. “We’re still alive, aren’t we? Come on, Smoky. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  But his attempt to lighten the mood falls short, and he tightens his grip on the lamp.

  When a figure appears in the tunnel of fire, my breath stops. A rustle passes through the jinn, and they shift and whisper as the figure steps through, planting a foot on the stone.

  It is Zhian, half man, half beast. He wears black robes, his head horned and his arms scaled armor, as if in anticipation of battle. His gaze rakes over us, lingering a bit on Aladdin, all fury and fire.

  “You’re just in time,” he says, deceptively calm.

  He turns slowly to face the Eye, giving us a view of his muscled back and his long black braid. He lifts his arms and clenches his fists, the veins in his arms standing rigid.

  Around us, the jinn begin slowly pounding the stone, a slow, measured beat that echoes through the alomb. It sends a chill up my spine. Their whispers come next, a voice with a thousand and one tongues.

  He is coming!

  He is coming!

  Aladdin gathers me into his arms, and I shrink into him, sick with dread. The pounding of the jinn begins to grow faster and louder, and the wind generated by the sila whips around us, tugging and pushing.

  He is coming!

  He is coming!

  Zhian drops to his knees, stretching his hands out in front of him. All eyes are fixed on the doorway, on that hypnotizing tunnel of flame that seems to stretch into infinity. The heat intensifies. I can feel Aladdin’s pulse racing through our clasped hands, but he doesn’t waver.

  Soon the jinn’s pounding becomes deafening, and then—all at once—everything stops. The noise. The wind.

  Then we are thrown flat by a massive ripple of air that pulses outward from the doorway, rolling like thunder. A hot, sulfuric wind with the strength of a tidal wave pours from the Eye, pressing us down.

  In the flames a shadow appears, tall as three men, horn and darkness, fire and smoke. Two eyes like coals flicker and form, centered on pupils of utter black. I sit up slowly and fight the wind, working my way to my feet and drawing Aladdin up with me.

  The figure steps through the fire, plants one massive foot on the floor of the alomb. Then he lets out a soft, rumbling laugh, a sound that is all breath and wind, yet somehow manages to be deafening. That laugh sends a cold chill crackling down my spine.

  Nardukha has come.

  Three: The Jinni

  At last, when the dust settled, the Queen and the Jinni stood on the mountaintop and looked down on the battlefield and the bodies spread like leaves across the desert. The Queen fell to her knees, wearied and wounded, and her sword dropped from her hand. Before her, the doorway to Ambadya burned with fires of every color.

  “All I wanted,” said the Queen, “was peace between our peoples. But I see now that this is not possible, for my people are ruled by a dreamer, and the jinn are ruled by a monster. My only consolation is that thou art by my side, my Jinni. I would die in the company of a friend, and give thee my final breath. For I have one wish remaining, and it is for thy freedom, yea, even at the cost of mine own life.”

  At this the Jinni shook her head, replying, “Nay, my queen. The time for wishing is passed. For here is the Shaitan, Lord of all Jinn and King of Ambadya.”

  And even as she spoke, the fires in the doorway rose higher, and through them stepped Nardukha the Shaitan, terrible to behold.

  “O impudent woman,” said the Shaitan, looking down at the Queen. “Wouldst thou dare make the Forbidden Wish?”

  “I would,” she replied. “For I fear thee not.”

  “Then thou art a fool.”

  As the Queen’s heart turned to ashes, realizing her doom was upon her, the Shaitan turned to the Jinni and said, “Dost thou recall the first rule of thy kinsmen, Jinni?”

  And the Jinni replied, “Love no human.”

  “And hast thou kept this commandment?”

  “Lord, I have.” And up she rose, as the Queen cried out in dismay.

  “Are not we like sisters?” asked the Queen. “Of one heart and one spirit?”

  And the Jinni replied, “Nay, for I am a creature of Ambadya, and thus is my nature deceitful and treacherous. My Lord has come at last, and I would do all that he commands.”

  The Shaitan, looking on with approval, said to the Jinni, “This human girl is proud and foolish, thinking she could rule both men and jinn. I am well pleased with thee, my servant, who hast brought her to me. Slay the queen and prove thy loyalty to thy king.”

  And the Jinni grinned, and in her eyes rose a fire. “With pleasure, my Lord.”

  Then, with a wicked laugh, she struck down the good and noble Queen, the mightiest and wisest of all the Amulen monarchs, whose only mistake was that she had dared to love a Jinni.

  —From the Song of the Fall of Roshana,

  Last Queen of Neruby

  by Parys zai Moura,

  Watchmaiden and Scribe to Queen Roshana

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  HAND IN HAND, Aladdin and I stand before the Shaitan. Beneath Nardukha’s primal gaze, all I want to do is cower and flee, but I focus instead on Aladdin’s pulse in my palm.

  “Nardukha.” I lift my chin, meeting his black eyes.

  The Shaitan is old, older even than the race of men. He was one of the first creatures ever formed by the gods, long ago when Ambadya was lush and beautiful. Looking in his gaze now, I find nothing remotely human. No emotion, no pity. He is more a force of nature than a living being, like a walking volcano. Rarely does he set foot in this world at all—and never do his visits result in anything other than catastrophe.

  He looks down slowly, his eyes shifting from me to Aladdin. Then, with a sound like thunder, a black pillar of smoke envelops him. When it falls away, Nardukha stands not much taller than us, vaguely human in form. His skin is black and charred, cracking at the joints to reveal lava-red muscle beneath. His robes are smoke and silk, and instead of hair he has two curling horns protruding from his elongated skull.

  He is a walking nightmare.

  “The-Girl-Who-Gives-the-Stars-Away,” he murmurs. His voice is soft and beautiful, clear as a crystal and sweet as honey. I guard myself against the dangerous allure in that voice. “Curl-of-the-Tiger’s-Tail. What have you done?”

  “I freed Zhian,” I say, drawing his attention back to me. “I kept my part of the deal. But you were never going to grant me freedom, were you? It was all a lie.”

  “You were to be freed from your lamp, just like he promised,” Zhian cuts in, rising to face us. Fury rages in his eyes.

  “And then what?” I snap, my gaze still locked on Nardukha’s. “Be killed?”

  “Be joined to me,” says Zhian. “As you were always meant to be.”

  I know what he means, the ceremony the jinn perform like some kind of perverted wedding. I would have been bound to Zhian in every way, unable to disobey his commands. It is similar to th
e bond Nardukha holds over all jinn, and the thought of being made slave to Zhian in this way is repulsive. Once more, another of Nardukha’s “deals” has turned out to be nothing but a trick. Last time, Ghedda paid the price of my foolish hopes. Now it will be Aladdin who suffers.

  “I would rather be bound to my lamp than be bound to you,” I snarl.

  Zhian opens his mouth to reply but falls silent at a look from the Shaitan. Nardukha circles me and Aladdin, his train of smoke coiling around us.

  “My beautiful jinni,” he murmurs. His voice is wind on hot coals, sparking and sighing. “More powerful than any other, made of fire and water, of earth and air. Why have you defied me?”

  The horde of jinn raise a chatter, like the hissing and clicking of cockroaches, that rustles through the air. Nardukha silences them with a single uplifted hand.

  “Why does it matter so much to you?” I ask. “What are you so afraid of?”

  But even as I say it, the answer hits me like a dash of icy water.

  Nardukha fears the Forbidden Wish.

  It is the one wish he cannot stop from happening, because the magic behind it is older, older even than he. It is a power far greater than any the Shaitan could wield. And love, love makes people do stupid things, like sacrifice themselves for one another. Nardukha fears love because he fears it will lead to the Forbidden Wish and my freedom.

  For the first time, I realize I might be strong enough to defeat him.

  If I were to let Aladdin make the wish, giving his life in exchange for mine, perhaps I could defeat Nardukha then.

  But I already know I won’t let that happen. The price is not one I am willing to pay.

  “You have broken the first rule of the jinn,” rumbles the Shaitan, his voice dangerously low. He stops in front of me. “And you must be punished.”

  Before I can say another word, his hand wraps around my arm.

  “Let her go!” shouts Aladdin, grabbing Nardukha’s arm and hissing when the Shaitan’s skin burns his hand. Zhian steps forward and easily knocks Aladdin to the ground, and Aladdin’s head strikes the stone hard. Smirking, Zhian pulls the lamp away from the thief. The bond between Aladdin and me unravels, and I’m left suspended, neither confined to my lamp nor bonded to a new master, for my wish-granting power is meant only for humans, not jinn. At least that’s something to be grateful for. I don’t have to feel Zhian’s will invading my own.