Her lower lip trembled, but she nodded. “I do.” Her thoughts echoed her words. She was telling the truth. For the first time since my Gift had developed, I found myself grateful for it.
“Answer me this: have you spoken with Amir one-on-one—even for a moment—since he came to visit?”
She shook her head and whispered, “No.”
Could she keep it hidden from me if she didn’t think about it? “That’s not very convincing,” I pushed.
“I swear to you,” Havah dropped to her knees, surprising me. “I won’t tell a soul you’re leaving. I’ll pretend to fall violently ill for the next few days to avoid running into him.”
When I didn’t immediately answer, she glanced up with a fervent light in her eyes. “If you think that leaving Hodafez is necessary, I swear on all of Jinn that I will help you.” I let a beat pass, listening. Her eyes squinted in confusion but she waited with me. Only when I felt certain she was telling the truth did I answer.
“It is necessary,” I repeated what I’d told myself earlier. Stepping forward, I reached down and pulled her to her feet, until we were eye to eye, and made my own vow: “I won’t let him have our kingdom.”
“We can’t let him have you either,” Havah added. “It occurred to me that he’s at least twice your age!”
A smile touched my lips. “That too.” I grasped her arms and squeezed. “Thank you.”
She squeezed back and bowed her head. I shouldn’t have been so harsh on her. Everyone had jealous thoughts. But in this moment, she was loyal and true.
I turned back to the mirror, but Havah caught my arm. “You can’t go that way,” she said. “King Amir’s men are everywhere.”
“How do you know where the tunnels lead?” I asked, pulling out of her grip. “Only the royal family is supposed to—you shouldn’t know about them at all.”
Havah groveled under my scowl. “I... my mother told me... and her mother before her...”
Brows raised, I heard her regretting this revelation, worrying that I might remove her from her position as a lady’s maid or have her punished. I placed a hand on her arm. “Let’s at least see for ourselves,” I said in a kinder tone. After all, I couldn’t leave her behind. She could still change her mind about keeping my secret.
Gesturing to my bedroom door, I added, “Bar the door before we go.” Something I kicked myself for not doing earlier.
When she returned, we each took a candle and stepped inside the tunnel, pulling the mirror closed behind us.
There were torches along the walls at steady intervals, but I ignored them. The candle was enough. There wasn’t time to waste.
Winding around rooms, we descended first one staircase to the ground floor, then another to street level. We closed in on the stable’s secret entrance. There was no peep hole, no way to see the other side without cracking open the stone door.
Nerves strung tight, I pressed the latch and caught the door before it swung wide. Loud, drunken voices sang out from one of the nearby stalls. They were either playing a game, drinking, or playing a drinking game.
I pushed on the stone until the latch clicked shut, hoping no one heard. “You were right,” I whispered to Havah. “Let’s try the seaside exit.”
I’d wanted my horse, for the fastest departure, but on foot would still work, if we hurried. The night was waning.
We retraced our steps to the ground floor of the castle, then the second, entering a third, smaller tunnel that narrowed until my shoulders nearly touched both walls. It exited at the uppermost part of the cliffs, only a stone’s throw from the watch towers above.
Remembering the guards stationed there, I gave Havah my candle and motioned for her to back up. I felt my way up to the stone door. The latch took forever to find in the dark. Before I opened it, I pressed a finger to my lips to remind Havah of the guards. She nodded, staying put in the narrow passageway. It was unlikely they’d hear us with the waves crashing against the cliffs. Far more likely they’d spot our silhouettes scurrying down the mountainside.
Pulling the door inward, I leaned out, searching for the watch tower. When one of the guards turned to look down at the cliffs, I ducked back inside. Why did the moon have to shine so bright tonight?
I couldn’t risk this exit either.
Hissing in frustration, I pushed the heavy stone door shut once more, returning to Havah. She didn’t say a word until we’d traversed the long tunnels back to my bedchamber.
My candle was nearly burnt out. As we’d walked, I’d struggled to think of another escape route. But we’d been in the tunnels too long. There was only one option left.
I set my candle on a nearby table, before facing Havah. “You must never tell anyone of the tunnels,” I began. “And even more importantly, don’t tell my father what I’m about to do.”
She followed me over to my bed, where I proceeded to remove the sheets and blankets.
“Tie these together,” I said. “Two knots. Make sure nothing will pull them apart.”
Nodding, she obeyed. Minutes creeped by as we created a rope. I rubbed my eyes, which burned. Morning couldn’t be far off now. I fought the urge to give up.
At some point, Havah must’ve pieced together my plan, but she didn’t say a word, only helped me finish the rope.
“Do you think you could stay here until morning? Keep them out as long as possible?”
I knew I was asking too much, but Havah only nodded, remaking my bed with my heaviest winter bedding and stuffing pillows under it to form a princess-shaped outline. “I’ll tell them not to disturb you—and pretend I’ve just come to check on you if they do come in.”
I hugged her on impulse. “Thank you, Havah.” My throat was tight. I couldn’t waste any more time. I tied an extra knot at the top of my travel bag. Pulling it over my shoulders, I tied it again over my chest as a precaution.
At the edge of my enormous balcony, I threw the rope of bedsheets over the ledge, wrapping it around the rail and tying it tight.
Each summer, men dove from the cliffs into the water below. The warrior’s leap, they called it. As long as you leapt far enough out, there were no rocks and the water was deep. It was the height that was terrifying. I’d never braved the jump—my father would never have let me—and I’d never had a desire to.
My balcony was two stories higher.
But it was designed for privacy. Which meant it was the only part of the entire castle that was left unguarded.
Leaning over the thick stone ledge, I tested the rope, before swinging a leg over to follow. The bedsheets dangled in mid-air, the same way my heart dangled in my chest, dropping into my stomach. Would they reach low enough?
I couldn’t find the will to move. Straddling the stone railing, I stared down. The water below was pitch-black and clouds passed over the full moon, darkening the skies and hiding the stars completely.
Havah stood in the doorway, hands clutched in front of her mouth to keep her thoughts to herself, though I heard each one of her fears just fine.
I had to jump. No one would ever expect it.
For the millionth time, I tried to conceive another way out. But the guards were loyal to my father, which made them loyal to Amir. I’d never make it. This was the only way.
Chapter 6
Arie
THE DARK WATER RIPPLED in the moonlight. Tightening my grip on the bedsheets, I awkwardly climbed over the stone railing until I was hanging from the edge along the outside. My muscles seized up. It took enormous effort to slide down the sheet at the pace I intended, without slipping.
My arms burned with the effort of holding my weight plus the bag full of food, which threw me off balance whenever the wind blew. When I reached the first knot, I sucked in a breath. What if I hadn’t tied it tight enough? I braced myself for a fall, but the knot held.
Hand over hand, gripping so tightly my fingers grew numb, I reached the end of my makeshift rope with much too far left to fall. The cliff diving took place much lower than
this, and even then, only the most skilled swimmers attempted it. What if I sunk so deep I couldn’t find my way to the surface?
And what about the Mere? Would they interpret a princess entering their kingdom as a threat?
Stark terror gripped me. But there was no going back now. My trembling muscles would never carry me back up. Cramps took over my arms, making it hard to keep my grip. I swayed there, suspended at the end of my rope, gathering the nerve to jump.
Before I had a chance, I felt a knot begin to slip, dropping me lower, and lower, and then I was falling. I held in a scream, air stealing my breath, before I hit the water. The frozen sea hit my body like a punch to the gut and I sank so deep that the moonlight didn’t reach me.
Flailing wildly in the dark, I kicked toward what I hoped was the surface. There was nothing to guide me. My lungs burned. Had I swum toward the ocean floor instead of the surface? Just as I began to lose hope, my hand broke free of the water and reached open air.
I gulped deep mouthfuls, panting as I tread water. It was freezing.
My skirts tangled around my legs and my bag on my back weighed me down. Remembering all the food inside, I hurried to untie it and hold it up, but it was a losing battle. I started swimming, struggling to hold it up with aching arms and kick through the lurching waves at the same time.
The cliffs were close, but I couldn’t waste time resting there. I needed to swim across the bay. If I could reach the shore of the neighboring kingdom of Keshdi, that would put some distance between myself and Hodafez. But could I make it that far? The frozen depths and the murky black water made me shiver as I kicked.
Flipping onto my back, I floated to catch my breath, dragging in deep lungfuls of air. This could work. Holding my bag over my stomach to preserve at least some of the food, I kicked. The thought of sharks or angry Mere below made me push harder.
The silhouette of the castle grew smaller and smaller. It made me expect to see Keshdi over my shoulder each time I looked, but even though I swam on and on, until the burning in my chest grew even hotter than the muscles in my arms and legs, it didn’t appear.
Eventually, I stopped looking back and focused on kicking. If I let myself stop too long, I’d sink.
My strength was giving out when I saw the twinkle of lights on the water and glanced over my shoulder to see the coastal city of Keshdi rising above me. The white sand of the shore glinted in the moonlight.
The last stretch was the hardest. Something brushed against my leg and gave my muscles new life. Heart pumping so fast it burned, I finally felt the sand beneath my feet and waded out of the water.
My legs shook. My bag was soaked through. My shoes and leggings chafed, squelching loudly with every step. I was too tired to peer inside at the damage the water had done to my supplies.
I took two more steps and sprawled out on the shore to rest. But the first hints of the rising sun touched my skin, and panic made me drag myself to my feet and set off through the trees. I could see the town through the branches on my right, but I stayed hidden, pushing through foliage and searching for the nearest path as I dusted off sand. A small dirt road curved up ahead.
It was past dawn now; the sun warmed my skin but I shivered at the thought that in just a few short minutes, my ladies-in-waiting might check on me and find Havah instead. Once they discovered I wasn’t in my room, they’d alert my father. Who would then tell Amir. In the daylight, the cliffs of Hodafez rose close behind me across the bay. Too close.
There was almost no one on the road, besides a woman and her two children heading toward Hodafez. I slipped through the underbrush, heading in the opposite direction and staying out of sight, just in case.
By the time my clothes were nearly dry, the steady plodding of horse hooves sounded on the dirt road. I stopped and hid behind a tree. My legs felt like soggy bread—I couldn’t walk much further. A farmer passed by with a wagon full of wheat held down by a blanket. I have to take the risk.
Slipping out of the woods, I crept up to the back of the wagon, lifted the edge of the blanket, and jumped inside. I nestled into the hay, pulling the blanket over me, and held my breath. The cart didn’t stop.
With a sigh of relief, I let myself relax, just for a moment. It was cramped, but soft. The wheat tickled my arms and neck, but I ignored it. I’d stay here just until we reached the town of Piruz. I knew enough of the high-born families there to feel safe and it would bring me far enough from Amir’s clutches. The sun beat down on the blanket over me, lulling me to sleep. My whole body ached. A nap sounded divine.
It felt like only a minute had passed since I dozed off when the wagon jerked to a stop. Blinking, I frowned at the blanket above me. The air had grown overly warm and the prickly wheat made my sweaty skin itch. How long had I been asleep? I hadn’t meant to still be in the wagon when it stopped.
“Only one more mile to town,” the farmer said. Was there someone with him? Or was he talking to himself? I tried not to rustle as I shifted. The sound of him patting his horse reached me, softened by the blanket. The horse stomped its hoof. “Calm down,” I heard him mumble, “We’ll be there soon.”
Muffled footsteps approached the wagon bed. I held my breath. His hand grasped the edge of the blanket. But he only tucked it into the sides more firmly where I must’ve loosened it, before his footsteps shuffled off. A moment later, I heard him relieving himself.
I held as still as possible when the farmer’s footsteps returned, but he only climbed up and slapped the reins. The wagon lurched back into motion.
How far had he said the next town was? A mile? I should walk the last stretch. I didn’t want to be anywhere nearby when he came to unload the wheat.
Crawling toward the back of the wagon, I peered out from underneath the blanket to find the sun at its peak in the sky. My eyes watered as they adjusted. I’d slept much longer and gone much further than I’d planned.
With care, I took my bag and slid out onto the ground, landing as softly as I could, crouching in case he heard my fall. After making sure he hadn’t noticed me, I ducked into the trees. A few stray pieces of wheat had spilled out onto the road and others still clung to me. I brushed them off.
Once within the trees, I opened my bag to view the damage the saltwater had done to my food. My nose wrinkled at the smell. Tossing the bread and cheese without looking too closely at the colors they’d taken on, I nibbled at the fruit and nuts that were left, wishing I’d packed more.
The jewels were still in the bottom, along with my crown if I grew desperate. I tried to smile. It shouldn’t take too long to walk the last mile to town. I would get a hot meal there.
This is for the best, I reminded myself again. This was the only way my father could be free of Amir. I just needed to find a place to stay for a while; wait him out.
Though I climbed over fallen logs and circled the underbrush, the horse and wagon were so slow they barely gained any distance from me at all, coming back into sight after every bend.
As I considered stepping out into the road and passing them, now that I was far enough from home, I heard galloping hoofbeats fast approaching.
Two men rode past wearing the colors of Amir’s guard.
I pulled back into the trees, breathing hard.
They overtook the farmer and ripped the blanket from the back of his wagon before he could even stop his horse. With a few words exchanged that I couldn’t make out, they took off down the road toward town.
After that, I walked even slower, unsure what to do now. If they were searching for me ahead, I didn’t want to deliver myself right to them. The trees began to thin and the city walls came into view.
The city was enormous. It started abruptly, with houses made of pale limestone and roofs that shone burnt-orange in the sun, stretching out before me as far as I could see. I’d come quite a bit further than I’d intended; at least a half dozen cities past Piruz. I’d never seen Aziz from on foot before, but I recognized it immediately from the way the city stretched ou
t into the water like a claw. My stomach growled and my feet ached. Still, I didn’t enter.
Approaching the outskirts, I stopped at the solid wall that surrounded the city. There were only three entrances. Even now, in the heat of the day, there was a line to pass through the largest gate before me—too many people. Better to avoid being seen. To the left, the road led to a tall building with stables; the streets of Aziz weren’t wide enough for horses. Were the guards there, or had they entered the city on foot? I could only assume they were still looking for me, since they’d never returned down the road.
On a gamble, I circled the city until I came to the gate by the sea. Only then did I allow myself to enter Aziz.
This entrance was smaller, probably meant for the city’s inhabitants rather than trade. I followed the cobblestone streets inward, trying to ignore the trapped feeling from the narrow streets and the sensation of being pressed between the pale buildings which grew darker and more sinister in the shade.
On the far side, the castle of Aziz rose above the rooftops, well-protected by the intricate roads, the thick wall, and the sea. I’d stayed there before. On the outside, it was modest. Designed to hide the wealth of this city, though anyone who looked closely could see that the people were clearly taken care of.
Details I’d never noticed from my previous visits struck me now that I was on foot. Lanterns hung from doorways, open windows held clothing strung out to dry. Here and there, a person would pop into sight, before turning down another street. As I descended deeper into the city’s valley, the bustle of the marketplace came into sight. I walked faster.
The smells of fine food and spices made an easy trail to follow. At the edge of the market, the narrow streets opened into an enormous bazaar, filled with people and stalls selling all kinds of wares.
Carpets were laid out to claim spaces, lined with baskets full of different food and cloth. Even more carpets hung on display, along with jewelry, scarves, and a million other items for sale. Awnings were put up at random to provide shade from the heat of the sun, which was making its way back down toward the horizon.
An Aladdin Retelling: The Stolen Kingdom Series, #1 Page 4