Startled, she stared at him. ‘Where’s home?’
He put his arms around her again. ‘Home is where we are together.’
‘We can be together here.’
Prince Zal smiled gently at her. ‘We can make our own home.’
He turned to the pari princess. ‘I’m not a king, so why did you call me badshah? Others have, too.’
‘Here in this jungle you are already the badshah. Time has no power here. You have had to fulfil a quest to prove who you are to your subjects, but mainly to yourself.’ She drew him and Najya with her to the lake’s edge. The water lapped at Prince Zal’s sandals as if it would draw him closer. ‘When the time is right in your kingdom, you will become Badshah Zal.’
‘How can that be true? I have six older brothers.’
‘Your bravery and wisdom have shown that you will be the one best able to look after the kingdom and this magical jungle.’
Prince Zal sighed. She couldn’t be right. ‘My father rejected me because of my illness.’
The pari shook her head. ‘Nai. He was forced to act as he did in case your illness affected others. It pained him to put you aside.’
‘Did my father come here before he became badshah?’
She smiled. ‘Ji. He was much afraid and needed to be at peace with himself.’ The pari princess put a hand on Zal’s shoulder. She said softly, ‘Najya’s suggestion is a good one. Stay for a while and we will heal your affliction. Then you can return and live in your kingdom again.’
Prince Zal glanced at Najya dancing in the water like the other pariyan. ‘I need to return the carpet.’
The princess regarded him. ‘The wise woman won’t mind. When you return, hardly any time will have passed.’
And so Prince Zal and Princess Najya lived in the pari kingdom for a year, until Prince Zal’s white patches disappeared from his skin. Every day he swallowed the sweet herbs the pariyan prepared for him.
‘Your toes won’t grow back,’ the pari princess said, ‘but look what we have made for you.’ They had fashioned a set of three toes from packed cloth and made him a pair of shoes, since his sandals would not have held the cloth in.
‘You’ll become better at walking now,’ the princess said. ‘Soon you’ll hardly limp at all.’
‘Fozia, Behn ji?’
Fozia paused. Jehan had just called her his dear sister, just how a real brother would. She stared at him, blinking her eyes. He was cradling Nala, even though the pup was trying to nibble his ear. Amir sat beside him with Lal filling his arms. Amir’s eyes were huge.
‘Will they be able to get away from Paristan?’ Jehan asked.
Lali gave a quiet ruff. ‘Chup,’ Fozia whispered to her. ‘Aunty Meena will send you out.’
They all looked at Fozia expectantly. She drew in a deep breath. She might never find her family again, but living with Jehan’s family was a little like living in Paristan. Could she be thankful for the magical gift Khuda had given her?
She smiled at them. ‘Soon you’ll find out.’
‘We should call Prince Zal’s sister “Fozia”,’ Jehan said.
Fozia’s hand shook under her scarf. ‘Why is that?’ she managed to say.
‘Because this is our story and you’re our princess and we want you to stay forever.’
Fozia’s eyes misted. She hugged the boys and kissed them on the top of their heads.
‘So jao, go to sleep,’ she whispered.
She drew the razai over them and put the dogs in the courtyard. Then she lay on her new charpai. She thought of Jehan’s words and let the tears fall silently. Zal had always called her his princess, too, just as their mother had called him her prince.
Fozia took a deep breath. Her name and Najya’s name both meant ‘victorious’. She didn’t feel victorious though – she hadn’t found her family. And reading Zal’s words about not forgetting him had shaken her to her toes.
She knew she couldn’t keep the secret of Zal’s existence anymore. Even if memories were all she’d ever have – even if she was told to leave – no more would she say that her beautiful brother was ‘just a boy’, as if she didn’t love him.
14
Fozia
A few days later, after a breakfast of roti and eggs, Fozia shooed the boys out to the courtyard to wash in the tin bath so she and Aunty Meena could iron everyone’s clothes for the wedding party. Izaak and Miss Parveen would arrive today from Lahore for the groom’s party at Shakila’s house. The boys were shrieking excitedly and splashing each other with water, but Fozia ignored them. She put a blanket and a sheet on the floor and plugged in the iron. First, she did the boys’ clothes so they could get out of the bath.
Just then they heard a knock on the door. ‘Ao,’ Aunty Meena called. ‘Come in.’
It was Shakila. She looked so thrilled she was about to burst.
Fozia moved to the doorway. ‘What is it? Have Chacha Izaak and Miss Parveen come early?’ They weren’t expected for hours yet.
Shakila grinned. ‘Nai, but someone else has.’ She beckoned, and a girl with yellow hair and a red-dotted shalwar qameez came into view.
‘Kelsey!’ Fozia didn’t realise she could squeal like that.
The boys, hastily dressed, came running to see what was happening. Amir gave Kelsey a huge hug. Jehan quickly did up the buttons on his qameez and then shook her hand. He looked at her as if she were the pari princess in their story. It made Fozia smile.
‘We didn’t know you were coming,’ Fozia said to Kelsey. ‘You kept the secret well.’ She knew how difficult it was to have a secret.
Kelsey laughed. She always made the sun shine, even inside. ‘It was tricky, especially when we were Skyping, but Chacha Izaak sent us an invitation and said we couldn’t refuse. Besides, Dad wanted to see how the building was coming along and Mum brought medicines for the clinic.’
‘I’m glad,’ Fozia said, but she meant much more.
Shakila held out an envelope to Fozia. ‘Chacha asked me to give you this. He said the online sale of your carpet was a huge success. It sold immediately.’
Then Kelsey grinned. ‘Guess who bought it?’
Fozia couldn’t think.
‘My nanna!’ Kelsey said. ‘Now I’ll be able to see it every day.’
‘Wah,’ Amir said.
Fozia took the envelope and put it in her pocket – it felt heavy like a stone in her heart. She wasn’t expecting the money so soon; now she would have to face the brick-kiln owner. Her middle quivered.
‘We’ve brought henna,’ Kelsey said. Fozia couldn’t say a word even though using henna was a happy thing to do.
Shakila untwisted the tube. ‘We can draw mehndi patterns on our hands now, since we didn’t get to go to Lahore for the wedding ceremony.’
Fozia glanced at Aunty Meena. There was the ironing to do, but Aunty Meena smiled. ‘You girls have fun. I’ll do the ironing this time.’ Fozia didn’t feel like having fun. Her head was swirling. She wondered how she would get to the village. What if the brick-kiln owner didn’t agree to cancel the debt?
Shakila began drawing curves and flowers on the girls’ hands. The boys even drew their own patterns on paper. Every flower made Fozia wonder how she would finish her carpet – so much was happening today. And, all of a sudden, she couldn’t bear the thought of the empty space where Zal should be. She needed to embroider him on it. She pictured him with his hair flopped over one side, his smile wide as he spun her around in a game.
Aunty Meena sat beside the girls. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked Fozia softly. Fozia faced Aunty Meena and gave a huge sigh. ‘There is something I need to tell …’ She hesitated.
‘What do you want to say, Beti?’
Fozia regarded Aunty Meena’s kind face and thought of Zal and his words: Please don’t forget me.
‘The story,’ Fozia beg
an as Shakila finished the design on her hand. Even the boys were looking at her now. ‘The story is sort of true. It’s based on stories my parents told, but it is also about a boy I know. I have kept a secret. My parents told me to keep this secret for our family’s sake, but I don’t want to keep it anymore.’
Aunty Meena said gently, ‘What is the secret?’
Fozia swallowed. ‘I have a brother. I don’t know if he is alive or not – he lived with my grandparents near Lahore, and their village was flooded too. He had leprosy, and my parents said no one should find out in case people shunned us.’ She heard the boys gasp. ‘My parents borrowed money from the brick-kiln owner to get medicine, but my brother needed to live with my father’s parents to get treatment. There is a leprosy hospital near their village.’ She looked at every person, one by one, before her gaze rested again on Aunty Meena. ‘It can be cured now. But I was afraid if you found out … I was afraid to love you in case you sent me away.’ Fozia couldn’t stop the tears falling. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.’
Aunty Meena put her arm around Fozia, careful not to ruin the design on her hand. ‘Hie, hie, my piari Fozia.’ Aunty Meena was weeping now too. ‘We would never send you away. We love you.’
Fozia sat up. The boys nodded their heads solemnly. Lali wagged her tail. Fozia half laughed, half cried to watch them.
‘So it is all right, Aunty ji?’
‘Zarur, of course, my piari.’
Fozia took a deep breath. ‘Aunty ji?’
‘Ji, Beti?’
‘Would you help me take the money to the brick-kiln owner tomorrow?’
‘Zarur, Beti, I would do anything for you,’ Aunty Meena replied.
Fozia wiped her eyes. ‘I love you, too.’
‘Oh.’ Kelsey wiped her eyes with her clean hand.
‘Here.’ Shakila gave everyone tissues. ‘Be careful of your hands,’ she said, ‘or you’ll smudge the mehndi.’
They all giggled through their tears.
It was exciting, that evening, arriving at Shakila’s house for the wedding party. The boys and Fozia wore their new shalwar qameezes. Shakila and Kelsey met them at the door. The girls took hold of Fozia’s arm and led her to where Miss Parveen and Izaak sat on a red couch.
Miss Parveen wasn’t dressed in her red wedding outfit, but in a long sparkly pink dress and a dupatta edged with gold. She had gold earrings and bangles and a gold ring in her nose. Fozia had never seen her look more beautiful. Izaak looked like a prince in a cream turban adorned with pearls. They both smiled as everyone gave their congratulations. There was a lot of laughing, phone cameras flashing, music and eating. The chicken curry and brightly coloured wedding rice was the best Fozia had ever tasted.
Shakila’s little brother, Raza, followed Jehan and Amir around all night. When everyone spilled outside to talk and eat under the fairy lights, Fozia, Kelsey and Shakila patted the goats. Fozia wrapped her dupatta around her – it was cooler outside.
‘I remember when I first saw Billie the goat,’ Kelsey said, ‘and the peacock. I’d never seen one before.’
‘We have a peahen now,’ Shakila said to Kelsey. She glanced at Fozia and grinned. ‘And we have a surprise.’ She guided them to the birds’ coop.
Kelsey squealed. ‘There are baby ones!’
Fozia bent to look at the chicks. She hadn’t seen young peafowl before either. The little brown chicks scuttled to the peahen. They made Fozia feel secure inside.
‘They just hatched a few days ago,’ Shakila said. ‘Soon we’ll have an ostentation of peafowl.’ She laughed at the looks on Fozia and Kelsey’s faces. ‘I asked Miss Parveen what a group of peafowl is called.’
‘You hid that secret well,’ Fozia said. Secrets were interesting things. Some were fun to keep as a surprise, but some secrets shut you up inside, making you afraid. She was glad she had no more secrets.
15
Fozia
Fozia awoke early the next morning with her tummy tied in a huge knot. Today she would deliver the money to the brick-kiln owner. She was doing this for her family because her parents couldn’t do it themselves.
But there was something else she needed to do first.
She took up her crocheted carpet and embroidered Zal and his name on the central panel. Finally, it was finished. She folded it so the design of her family lay on top. Then she laid it on her charpai, ready to give to Kelsey to take home to her nanna.
It was still quicker to go by river to Fozia’s village, so Mr Waheed brought Izaak’s boat. Aunty Meena and Uncle Akram, Fozia and the boys, and finally Lali, all jumped in.
More fishermen were out on the river today. Some had children in their boats, and Fozia could hear their happy shouts when a net was dragged in.
She felt the weight of the money in her pocket, and Lali licked her hand. Somehow, Lali always knew when Fozia was thinking heavy thoughts. Fozia would go to the house first, just in case, then see the brick-kiln owner. She blew out a breath – would he accept the money and not ask for more?
Uncle Akram leaned closer to Fozia. ‘I have heard some news about this brick-kiln owner. He lost his entire family in the flood, so be careful what you say. His grief could make him angry. I am happy to come with you in case he still tries to make you work for him.’
Fozia tilted her head. So that was why the man had looked so broken when she saw him at her house.
‘We will all be with you,’ Aunty Meena said. Fozia squeezed her hand. The riverbank drifted by so slowly today. Mr Waheed was not a fast driver like Izaak.
Lali whined as soon as the chimney and its black smoke came into view. She stood up, ready to jump out.
The boat docked by a tree where Mr Waheed tied a rope.
Fozia tried to hold on to Lali but she bounded past Amir and out of the boat. She raced up the embankment and disappeared up the lane. ‘Lali, come back!’ Fozia cried. But Lali didn’t return.
Sounds of squeaking wheelbarrows and voices yelling directions floated over the brickyard wall as they climbed out of the boat. Fozia knew the boys pushing the barrows of clay would be too tired to reply. Women and men would be filling moulds with the clay, patting them firmly and turning them out like cakes – all in a few seconds. Between them, her parents had made a thousand such bricks a day.
Just then, excited barks blocked out the sounds of the brick-kiln workers. ‘Woof, woof, woof.’
‘Hie!’ Jehan said, looking up the lane. ‘Who is Lali playing with?’
Fozia squinted into the morning sun to see Lali jumping frantically around the feet of a tall boy. His black hair flopped over his forehead and his smile was wide as he walked towards her. His brown eyes sparkled. Then she saw him limp. Her heart skipped beats, not daring to believe her eyes.
‘Is my story coming true?’ she whispered.
Amir took one look and said, ‘Fozia is right – her story is coming true.’ He ran up the lane to the boy. ‘Hoi. Are you the prince?’ he yelled, as Fozia broke into a run.
‘Nai, I’m not a prince,’ the boy said to Amir. ‘Who are you?’
‘Amir. You’ve been looking for your sister, haven’t you?’
The boy stared at him. ‘I have. How do you know?’
‘I know everything about you,’ Amir said.
Fozia’s head was spinning as if she’d flown on a carpet. She stood in front of the boy, and all she could say was, ‘Zal.’
16
Prince Zal
The boy gazed at her. ‘Fozia? Is it really you?’
‘Ji.’ She hugged him tight. Then she stood back. ‘Zal – are you well?’
He tipped his head. ‘Ji. Everyone at the hospital was kind. I’m cured, Fozia. No one can say anything mean about our family again.’
‘Do you have special shoes?’ Amir asked.
He looked at Amir in surprise. ‘Ji, I do.’
>
Fozia bit her lip. ‘Zal, has anyone else been looking for me? Dada and Dadi, our grandparents?’
‘Nai, they’re too old now to travel for long. I have come with their blessing.’
Fozia was frightened to ask the next question, but she had to. ‘Have you found our parents? Did they go to Dada and Dadi’s village?’
Zal put an arm around her and said gently, ‘Behn ji, they never arrived.’
Fozia gulped down the lump in her throat. She had known all along, but didn’t want to believe it.
‘Is Saima with you?’ Zal said.
Fozia couldn’t stop the tears running down her cheeks. She dashed them away, not able to tell Zal what had happened. But his eyes filled too. He understood.
Fozia felt another arm come around her. Beside her stood Aunty Meena, Uncle Akram and the boys. Lali kept padding around Zal and Fozia and licking their hands. ‘This is my new family,’ she said to Zal. ‘And Mr Waheed.’
Zal still had tears in his eyes. ‘Shukriya for looking after Fozia. Truly, this is my happiest day.’
‘We’ve always wanted a big sister,’ Jehan said.
‘Izaak and I thought we had found your brother,’ Mr Waheed said to Fozia. But when you told us there was no one else in your family, we thought we’d been mistaken. Then we heard about your story—’
‘What happened to you in the flood?’ Jehan asked Zal.
‘Did you have an adventure?’ Amir added.
Zal grinned. ‘I suppose it was an adventure. When the flood came, my grandparents’ house melted like chocolate.’
‘Like ours,’ Jehan said.
‘But the flood wasn’t as high in our area, and we were closer to Lahore,’ Zal continued. ‘A helicopter picked us up out of the water.’
‘Wah!’ Amir’s eyes grew huge.
Zal eyes remained on Fozia. ‘We couldn’t call to see if you were safe. Most people’s phones were lost or ruined in the flood. The internet was down. At least the hospital was safe so I could continue my treatment.’
Fozia and the Quest of Prince Zal Page 6