An Aladdin Retelling: The Stolen Kingdom Series, #1

by Bethany Atazadeh

  “Do you think it would count if the prince told a lie?” I hissed. “Or maybe if he spoke Jinn? Is that a crime?”

  Though Naveed’s brows rose hopefully, a single thought from Gideon came through. No.

  I sighed, shaking my head. “I guess not.” Naveed frowned at me, but I didn’t explain. Instead, I built up those walls in my mind, making them ten times thicker, so I could think of a better plan in peace.

  Yet, by the time we reached the castle, where it rose, tall and imposing, with a guard on each side of the open drawbridge, I had yet to think of anything.

  Standing in line to speak to the king, we watched for Prince Dev. He didn’t show. Likely, the man was still in bed with a hangover. Though we’d left early that morning, we still had to wait an hour in line, making our way slowly around the courtyard as each person had an audience with the king.

  Finally, we reached the castle entrance, through the enormous double doors, entering the throne room. Though I encouraged Gideon multiple times to roam the castle and search for the prince while we waited, he insisted on staying with us. Everyone clammed up at the color of his skin. A shell of silence surrounded us, making my scheme much more difficult.

  Once inside, Illium slipped away from the group. I scanned the room full of petitioners and the tall sand-colored ceiling while I waited for his signal. When he appeared at the entrance, I nodded confirmation and he entered the hall.

  “Naveed, you’re next.” My friend melted away from the group. Only moments later, he signaled from the door. Another success.

  “Alright Daichi.” I waved him off.

  Before the big man had gone far, Gideon spoke up, “What exactly is taking place here?” His voice carried in the quiet.

  “Nothing.” I signaled for Daichi to wait, but he wasn’t paying attention. Too late to call him back now. I watched him make the grab and hope no one else noticed.

  But even as he pocketed the paper and turned back toward us, Gideon snapped his fingers and the corner of the document where it poked out of Daichi’s pocket disappeared.

  It reappeared in Gideon’s hand. He held it up to study it.

  “What did you...” Daichi searched his pockets and came up empty. “How’d you do that?”

  “An invitation?” Gideon ignored him, looking at me over the bridge of his nose.

  “Everybody needs one if we’re going to spend the day here,” I muttered. Getting caught was so rare. Twice in two days? Was this a new streak? “To be allowed in for tonight’s dinner.”

  “Why didn’t you say so?” Gideon smiled, sharp blue eyes glinting with mischief. He and the parchment disappeared. Everyone around us gasped.

  Whispers and pointing fingers directed our attention toward the throne. Gideon had flashed into existence on the raised dais between the King and the current petitioner. The guards belatedly raised their weapons as the King stiffened. Before they could react further, Gideon bowed low.

  “What’s he saying,” Bosh hissed.

  “If you can’t hear, what makes you think we can?” Illium snapped.

  I couldn’t help but be irritated as well. I hated when things didn’t go according to plan. As much as we tried to eavesdrop with the rest of the crowd, we couldn’t make out a word they said from this distance.

  When Gideon disappeared in a flash once more, I tensed, waiting.

  “Here are your invitations,” Gideon spoke from his original position. He waved seven of the formal parchments that we’d intended to steal. Just like that.

  “What—how did you—” I flushed as everyone around us stared, including my men.

  “I asked.”

  Of course. Who would refuse to give an invitation to a Jinni? The King would have to be a fool to risk his ire. In fact, he probably assumed he was being honored by the presence of a group of Jinn and hoped to be showered with Jinni favor all night.

  I gritted my teeth together in a forced smile. “Thank you.” It was foolish to be angry about this. I shrugged off the discomfort, gesturing toward the opposite side of the castle, where we could now enter the great room with a genuine invitation. “Lead the way.” As we left the line, we passed a tall fireplace and approached the double doors to the great room, where two guards stood stiff on each side.

  Gideon simply flashed the invitations—and the guards opened the heavy doors wide. The first thing my eyes landed on were tables filled to the brim with food.

  As I surveyed the crowds of people, some seated, others dancing or talking, the muscles in my jaw tightened. I barely reined in my rage at the sight of him. Prince Dev. Blood pumped in my ears, making the merriment around me almost inaudible. My fingers curled and I clenched my fists at my sides, unable to move. Do not start a fight, I reminded myself. Not here. Not yet.

  The prince was taller and more muscled than I remembered, but he had the same unruly brown hair and smirk. Seated on yet another raised dais, he was surrounded by food and drink, as well as a large group of men and women. Their boisterous laughter carried across the room.

  We made our way around the outer edge. “Split up,” I said. “Get some food. We’ll meet by the pillars at midnight.” I pointed to the massive white stone pillars marking the main entrance. Everyone dispersed, except Arie and Gideon. I scratched my neck. “I assume you have a method for bearing witness...”

  Gideon half-smiled. “Don’t worry about me, Master Kadin. I’ll be watching.” He slipped away into the crowd before I could ask if he meant watching the prince, or me.

  “Shall we?” I turned to Arie, leading her to a table with two open seats. Normally I didn’t waste time in places like this; not like these nobles who spent their entire day enjoying entertainment and filling their mouths. I forced myself to unclench my fists and focus. We only had the day to make this work, so we had to work smart and we had to work fast.

  Chapter 3O

  Arie

  KADIN BARELY SPOKE THROUGHOUT the meal. The muscle in his jaw ticked and he chewed as if the feast was a job and the sooner he finished, the better.

  “It’s good, isn’t it?” I pointed to a dish of Ghormey-Sabzi. “This one is delicious.”

  He scooped some onto his plate and chewed without expression, staring at the prince across the room. I gave up on conversation.

  “Excuse me.” I pushed my chair out. “I’ll be back in a moment.” He didn’t blink. I searched for Gideon and found him seated on a gold sofa in the corner, where he had a good view of everyone.

  The surrounding sofas were empty. Finally, we could speak alone.

  I stood taller and approached the circle of seats, pushing a smile onto my face. Resting my hands on the back of a sofa, I stood behind it like a shield. My instincts screamed at me to walk away, but I cleared my throat and spoke, “May I ask you a question, when you have a moment?”

  “I am free now,” Gideon said, waving toward Prince Dev, who stepped down from the dais seating and walked toward the bathrooms. “Since I’m not following the young Prince Dev to use the toilet, as much as Master Kadin might wish it.”

  I paused, then laughed. “You’re making a joke!”

  “It happens once a decade or so,” Gideon replied, lips twitching. “Please, sit.”

  I settled onto the sofa across from him, too tense to lean back against the pillows. Which problem should I bring up first? Where to start?

  “How about at the beginning,” Gideon said, but his voice was gentle, patient.

  His calm reminded me of Kadin, even though he was light-skinned where Kadin was dark, his raven hair slicked back instead of falling across his face, and crystal-clear blue eyes instead of Kadin’s warm amber gaze, like molten sunlight. Why was I thinking about Kadin right now?

  I cleared my throat. “I have two requests actually...”

  He waited for me to continue.

  “First...” I licked my lips and launched into it, words spilling over once I let them free, “Once you’re done bearing witness for Kadin, I was hoping you might be willing
to spend just a few short days in a nearby kingdom as well, where another king is also misusing his Gift and—”

  “No. Next.” Gideon leaned back, crossing one leg over the other.

  “Please, if you’d only reconsider—” I slid to the edge of my seat, hands clasped, begging.

  He interrupted once more, waving a hand. “I understand. But I’m afraid time is of the essence. I can’t afford to waste even one more day before I use the lamp to return home.”

  I sat back at that. I’d had my hopes pinned on convincing him. Without his help, I would have to resort to my original plan of waiting for Amir to return home as a jilted fiancée.

  “You mentioned a second request?” Gideon’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

  “Yes...” I said to my hands, afraid to look at him as I spoke. “Ever since that first day... I could feel—could sense—your Gifting. And so, I assume... that you could sense mine as well?” Suddenly I was afraid not to look at him. When I lifted my chin to meet his sharp gaze, there was no sign of surprise. He only nodded.

  I lowered my voice even more, as I continued. “I’m sure you’re also aware it’s against the law for women to be Gifted. Throughout the kingdoms a Gifted woman is required to be put on trial... before being judged as a danger to themselves and to others.”

  “It’s my understanding those trials are a bit of a farce.”

  I lifted my chin. “If you mean the results are always the same, then yes. It’s supposed to be a fair trial.” I waved a hand. “But the women are always sentenced to have their Gift severed. And they usually die within a month. I think—” I leaned forward, lowering my voice even more, “—I think someone kills them.”

  Gideon shifted in his seat, no longer lounging casually, but leaning forward, tense. “Why do you bring this up to me?”

  Another deep breath. I had considered this moment for ages, but once I spoke the words, I wouldn’t be able to take them back. “If they ever discover my Gift, they’ll put me on trial. And if they put me on trial, it’s a death sentence. I don’t want to die. But I can’t keep this Gift hidden forever. Either way, it’s killing me. I want you to remove my Gift.”

  Chapter 31

  Arie

  “NO.” GIDEON SAT BACK again, this time as if the conversation was over, signaling for a servant to bring him a drink.

  I waited until he took it and the man left. “Why not?”

  “Tell me,” Gideon said, swirling the drink before taking a sip. “Has any Gifted woman survived a Severance, to your knowledge?”

  “No. But as I’ve said, I think it has to do with the trials.” I pursed my lips, trying to find the right words. “The deaths always take place within a month of a Severance. They try to make it seem random, but I know they’re killing them. That’s why I’ve come to you instead.”

  He shook his head.

  Scooting to the edge of my seat, I clutched my hands together. “Please Gideon,” I begged, “I can’t live with this Gift anymore. You don’t understand what it’s doing to me. I can’t control it. I can’t go home. I’m not safe anywhere.” I’m an abomination.

  “You are not,” Gideon’s soft voice crept into my thoughts. I’d forgotten he might be listening.

  “I am,” I whispered back, tears filling my eyes so that he was only a blurry image when I looked up. “Please. I just want to be free of it.”

  “You misunderstand. You cannot be free of it, because your Gift is a part of you,” Gideon told me. His eyes burned with intensity. “You can no more remove it free of consequences than you could remove an eye or a limb. The women do not die because someone murders them, they die because they can’t live without it. So, do not ask me again. No Jinni in his sane mind will ever agree to do this for you, do you understand?”

  My hopes fell and a pit formed in my stomach, growing dull and bitter as I nodded. “I understand,” I whispered. “Thank you.”

  He gave me a moment to stare at the blurry floor in silence, before standing with a sigh and sitting on the sofa beside me.

  “What exactly does your Gifting entail?” he asked.

  “It’s... hard to describe,” I said, swallowing my disappointment and blinking tears of frustration away before he could see them. “I can hear... well, not everything people are thinking, but I always hear when a thought exists, like the way you’d hear waves on the shore or the buzzing of an insect... and then, when they’re about me, I hear...” I glanced around to make sure no one was nearby before I whispered, “I hear every single word.”

  Gideon didn’t move. He didn’t blink or react in any way. Only stared at me.

  I dropped my gaze. It appeared he’d spoken too soon. I was a disgrace after all.

  “What was your mother’s name?” he asked, out of nowhere.

  “Hanna,” I said, frowning. “Why do you ask?”

  He didn’t answer, only took a deep breath, slow and steady. Was he surprised? I remembered the note I’d found in the book that had insinuated my mother might be a Jinni... “Did you know her? My mother?”

  “It’s hard to say.” Gideon’s expression didn’t reveal a thing. “But the Gift of Intuition is very rare. It’s certainly not something to be ashamed of.”

  The name caught my attention. Intrigued, I turned it over in my mind. “Is this your Gift as well?”

  “One of them.” He nodded. Before I could ask what his other Gifts were, he added, “You can control it.” He rapped his cane on the floor to punctuate his words. “With time and practice.”

  He lifted his cane to point toward a mouse scurrying along the edge of the wall. “Imagine each thought is like a mouse. Right now, the mice are running around in chaos.” I nodded vigorously at the mental image. “Close your eyes,” he continued. “Imagine picking up each thought like catching one of the mice, and placing it in a jar.”

  When I struggled to picture it, he only said, “Take your time.”

  As I picked up each squirming thought by the tail out of the mess in my mind, dropping them into an imaginary glass jar, the noise surrounding me didn’t change. Was it working at all? I kept going, laboring over them, until my imaginary jar was full. The chaos of thoughts washed over me, as overwhelming and muddled as ever. Even more so now that I was paying attention to it. “It’s impossible... there’s too many.” I blinked back tears.

  He gave me a small smile. “It will just take some time and practice. Now, put a lid on the jar, and screw it shut.”

  Closing my eyes again, I tried to picture a thick lid for the glass jar, twisting it hard, locking them in. The din instantly softened. My eyes flew open in surprise. “I did it!”

  “Well done,” Gideon said, and it felt like high praise. “Once you’ve mastered this, you can begin to open the jar, taking out one thought at a time whenever you choose.”

  A lump rose in my throat. “Thank you. Truly. I didn’t know this was possible. I didn’t even know my Gift of hearing thoughts was called Intuition.” He nodded in response, turning to look out into the room where I assumed Prince Dev had returned.

  I took that as my cue to leave and stood, enjoying the regular everyday noise of conversation with only a soft hum of thoughts—one in particular stood out. Gideon’s method of singling the thoughts out had made them feel more tangible, more like the person they belonged to. This one felt close by. Familiar.

  I turned and my eyes met Kadin’s. Just two steps away.

  Staring at me.

  All the thoughts I’d so carefully placed in the jar exploded out into the air as I lost control, but I didn’t need to pick his out of the crowd. From the disbelief written all over his face, I had no doubt he’d heard everything.

  Chapter 32

  Kadin

  I STARED AT THEM both. Gideon, the Jinni I was using to fight those born of the Jinn. And Arie, the girl I’d been falling for, who was one of them.

  One of the very people I hated more than anything else in the entire world.

  Arie reeled back, as if I�
�d slapped her. Gift of Intuition, she’d said, hearing thoughts. I took a step back. How dare she read my mind. I threw all my willpower into envisioning walls thicker than a dungeon around me, imagining pouring the cement myself, thickening it with every inch of my resolve.

  “Kadin, let me explain,” she began, pressing her hands together, pleading with her eyes for me to listen. Was that a trick too? If she was one of the Gifted, I couldn’t be sure.

  I spun on my heel and pushed through the crowd, aiming for distance. How far can she reach? I asked myself, feeling my usual calm slip away completely. No one answered, and I realized I’d half expected Gideon to, but maybe my walls were working.

  I couldn’t believe I’d been harboring a Gifted girl for so long without knowing. How had I not seen it? I gritted my teeth as I remembered how every time I would enter a room, she seemed to know. Even if her back was turned. I’d been flattered. Thought it meant we had a connection. I wanted to punch a hole in the wall. Shoving my way through the crowd, I curled my fingers into fists. Something in my expression made those who saw me move out of my way.

  “Kadin, wait!” Arie yelled, and people turned to look. She was drawing too much attention. I pushed through a closed door, not caring where it led.

  She followed me through. “Please, Kadin.”

  Oh, for the love of Jinn, she sounded like she was going to cry. Was that real? I felt a twinge of guilt at the thought.

  The hallway wasn’t empty. Stopping, I turned to face her. “Not here.” I tried not to feel anything, think anything, as I took her elbow and guided her down the hall, searching for a quiet corner. A small alcove ahead, just large enough to hold a short sofa and a few plants. It would do. The space was tucked away, meant for meetings just like this. Except nothing like this. “You’ve been lying to us this whole time,” I hissed, and it wasn’t as without feeling as I’d hoped. My voice almost broke and I cut off.

  “I can’t help my Gift,” Arie said, ripping her arm from my grasp. I was eager to let go, stepping back. She pulled back as well until we stood on opposite sides of the small room. “Do you think I want to be this way?” Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. I crossed my arms and stared at the marble walls as she continued, “Do you think I have a choice? I couldn’t tell you.” She gestured to me. “You would’ve reacted just like this.”