by Aisha Saeed
“Yes.” The man’s eyes darkened. “That’s why he banished me the way he did.”
“It wasn’t right,” Jasmine said. “I’m sure he didn’t even give you a chance to explain your side of the situation, did he? We would have sent people to come and rescue you had we known where you’d been sent. You were wronged.”
“Exactly.” The man’s eyes widened and he nodded his head vigorously. “Sultan Waleed gave me no opportunity to defend myself. A quick overnight trial—if you can even call it that—when everyone there was his loyalists and pawns…So you understand.” He looked at her.
“I do.”
“Then you know exactly why I need to leave,” he said. “I can’t let them get away with what they’ve done.”
“Of course. From one royal to another, they must pay for what they did to you. You absolutely must right this grave injustice.”
She could feel Ali’s eyes on her; he was surely wondering what she was up to. But she had to stay focused. This time, Ali would have to be the one to trust her.
“But what I am genuinely confused about,” she continued, “is why you would want to take a shaky, unreliable carpet; it’s singed from the lantern and injured. And the hook you had in it seems to have messed with its sense of direction. For all you know, it could end up dropping you in the middle of the Sahara with the way it’s functioning right now.”
“What else can I do?” Abbas asked. “I have to try whatever way I can to leave this blasted place. Better this rug than no option at all.”
“Well, how about something stronger and more solid, with a lot more reliability?”
“Such as?”
“A boat,” she said.
“You think I haven’t tried that?” he scoffed. “Weren’t you listening when I told you that I’ve tried leaving this awful place by sea? The waves cut into any vessel I try to build like knives.”
“I’m not talking about a raft. I’m talking about a ship. A seafaring one.”
“Like I’d get on any of those ships out there. As if they’re going to get me anywhere,” the man spat.
“Do you mean the one with the white mast that came in this morning?” Jamaal cried out. “But that’s your ship, Princess Jasmine. You’d give him that one? The one with all that gold in it?”
“Jamaal,” Jasmine admonished, pretending to be flustered.
“Sorry,” the boy said. “I was curious and snuck in when I was certain that the captain was asleep. I didn’t steal anything, I swear it. But there was so much gold.”
“I’m sure you didn’t take anything,” Jasmine said. “But.” She turned to the villain and pretended to consider. “I can give you some of the gold. God knows my kingdom has plenty of it.”
“You’re trying to get me to believe that one of those ships out there is yours?” The man snorted. “And you’ll just give me a literal boatload of gold?”
“As well as a captain to steer the boat for you.”
“Jasmine!” Ali exclaimed. “Your father will be furious.”
“Ali, let me sort this out myself, thank you.” She gave him her best haughty glance and turned back to Abbas.
“And you would do all of that why?” he asked. “From the goodness of your heart?”
“Because if those of royal worthiness do not protect one another, who will?” she asked. “My mother meant to send ships to assist you before everything unfolded with the fire and your banishment. Allow me to give you one ship now as a gesture of goodwill. It’s what she would have wanted. It’s not a tough decision to me. Why would anyone go back on a flimsy rug when you can go back to the kingdom that is rightfully yours with a ship, crew, captain, and enough gold to actually exact your revenge? Money is, after all, power. And that is how you make a comeback. What sort of vengeance does a man in tattered clothing take with a simple rug like this?”
“All this to protect this peasant boy?” Abbas frowned.
“I don’t want to see him hurt. He’s only a child.” Jasmine nodded. “But my decision to help you is strategic. Allow me the chance to help you, and maybe one day you will be grateful enough to form an alliance with Agrabah, as we had meant to do long ago.”
“A boat full of gold? You’ll just give me that to form an alliance?” Abbas asked suspiciously.
“Isn’t Sulamandra full of gold?” Jasmine countered. “If you go back home and defeat Sultan Waleed, then you’ll be swimming in gold and silver, won’t you? Those mountains will be all yours to mine, won’t they? Surely you’ll repay Agrabah for helping you during your time of need. There is no downside for my kingdom to assist you.”
“Maybe…” Abbas considered Jasmine’s offer.
“Jasmine,” Ali said. “Your father…”
“My father will be pleased we were able to lend our assistance to such an important man,” Jasmine retorted. “Please allow us to rectify the tragic mistake.”
Abbas smiled. His yellow teeth looked like a string of corn.
“Fine,” he finally said. “Go summon the captain and bring proof of this wealth that is in that boat you speak of. If you can prove what you say is true, we have a deal.”
“I can do that.” She nodded. “In the meantime, can’t you put the boy down? Holding him like that means even a slight accidental turn risks his life.”
“Accidents happen.” He kept his grip firmly on the boy and shrugged. “You have one hour. But bear in mind that after the ordeal back at the cliffs, my patience is growing thin. If you’re not back in time”—he looked down at Jamaal, his expression darkening—“this boy is dead.”
ALADDIN WATCHED Jasmine disappear around the curve into the distance. The blade Abbas held was still balanced precariously close to the little boy’s throat. Aladdin had ducked and fled from people like Abbas all his life. He knew how arrogant they were, how they thought their wealth afforded them the right to treat anything and anyone as they pleased. They didn’t see people like Aladdin himself as actual people. Aladdin also knew something else: a man like this was not bluffing. If they didn’t come up with a solution to save Jamaal, Abbas would murder the boy.
Jamaal’s not actually real, Aladdin reminded himself. He’s a figment of Genie’s conjuring. And yet, when he looked at Jamaal now, his green eyes wide, tears trailing his cheeks, the boy felt as real as anyone Aladdin had ever known.
Aladdin studied the winding path Jasmine had taken just a little while earlier and wondered what he could do. He knew what Abbas didn’t know. There were no royal boats from Agrabah docked at the pier. There was no gold. No captain. Jasmine had said what she needed to in order to buy them some more time to figure out a solution, but as the clock ticked and the minutes passed, he wondered what to do before Abbas carried out his threat.
A patch of clouds passed over the moon, concealing it completely. The darkness felt as though it had settled into his own heart as well.
“I must admit it took me a while to figure out what you were up to,” Abbas told Aladdin. “But I get it now. She’s a pretty one, isn’t she?”
“Don’t talk about her,” Aladdin snapped.
“Been trying to figure out what the heck was going on with this ridiculous kingdom. When I first saw the burst of light flickering in the darkness, I thought I was finally losing my mind. And then watching a palace spring up on this godforsaken land out of nowhere…Are you a wizard or something? A genie? Some can be impressed with that sort of thing, that’s for sure. But I know of that girl’s father—he won’t ever approve of her running off with an illusionist like yourself. You’re new money. Can smell it a mile away.” He wrinkled his nose.
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“But still, credit where credit is due. This is indeed quite the dog and pony show you have going on here,” Abbas continued. “And I would wager my family’s entire wealth that she has no idea at all who you really are. But I know. You’re a fake and a fraud. You’re not a prince. You’re a nobody.”
The words landed like rocks i
n the well of Aladdin’s heart. He swallowed. The man was evil and cruel, but he was right. Except for one thing—Aladdin wasn’t old or new money. He truly was nobody.
“Prince Ali is a hero!” Jamaal shouted. “He was kind to me and helped me and he’s braver than you’ll ever be.”
“Who asked for your input?” Abbas snapped at the boy.
Aladdin felt sick. Abbas was getting in his head.
“You remind me so much of him, you know that?” Abbas told Aladdin. “You and Waleed could have been long-lost brothers. He was also a do-gooder who thought if he just got everyone to like him, he’d be the best or win some kind of a medal. But he was a nobody, too. Even with a crown and parents with blue-blooded lineage, it doesn’t mean anything if you’re weak willed and cowardly. You know everything I’m saying is the truth. I can tell you understand exactly what I’m telling you.” He peered into Aladdin’s eyes. “Are you afraid I’ll point out that inconvenient matter about who you really are to your companion? I don’t need to tell her. If your pretty princess doesn’t see it now, she will. It’s only a matter of time. She is no fool.”
Aladdin looked down at the ground. His head hurt. His chest ached. Abbas was a power-crazed egomaniac.
But he was also right.
Aladdin was no prince. And he was certainly not worthy of a woman as lovely and wonderful and intelligent as Jasmine. Sooner or later the truth about who he really was would come out. There was no way around that.
He looked at the boy in Abbas’s clutches.
The only way to prove himself worthy of a woman like Jasmine was to be worthy of her. Not with a brilliant palace or fancy clothing. Truly worthy. The only way to do that was to go back home and earn his worth fair and square.
He looked out into the darkness; he wondered where Jasmine had gone. If he couldn’t come up with a solution, could she?
JASMINE HAD never run so fast in her life. She raced down the road, perspiration tinging her brow, her insides clenched. But she didn’t stop until she had left the overgrown road behind her, passed the docks with the boats lolling silently in the night, and at last stepped onto the familiar cobblestoned streets of Ababwa. Only then did she let out a gasp and steady herself, but only for a moment. All she had to do was think of the boy, the way his entire body trembled, his hands limp at his sides as the man gripped him by the neck, and she’d push on, past her exhaustion. Jasmine continued until she reached the village square.
Despite the late hour, a handful of people still milled about outside. A few held torches with lit flames while others carried lanterns. When they saw her, they hurried toward her.
“Princess Jasmine! Are you all right?” a man asked.
“Thank you, all of you, for being up so late, for helping us.” Jasmine exhaled. “I need to talk to you all. It’s urgent.”
“We’ve scoured every inch of the kingdom,” a woman said. “There’s no sign of the thief or the carpet you are looking for. But don’t worry, we won’t stop looking.”
“There’s no need for that,” said Jasmine as a crowd gathered around her. “We found the man. He doesn’t have the carpet anymore, but he’s taken Jamaal hostage. He’s got a knife to the boy’s throat and threatens to kill him within the hour.”
The crowd gasped audibly.
“Where is he?” Zaria asked, her jaw clenched. Her gilded cage was cradled against her arm. “I’ll sic my bees on that man. These friends of mine here make good honey, but they also know how to attack like the best of their species.”
“Thank you,” Jasmine said. “The bees may come in handy.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” The bread maker raised his torch. “Let’s go and get him.” Others nodded and murmured in agreement.
“He’s by the cliffside,” Jasmine said. “Ahmed calls it the Phoenix Trio.”
At this, the crowd fell silent.
“Did you say the Phoenix Trio?” a woman finally asked. “But that place is uninhabitable. No one goes out there. Not ever.”
“Perhaps that’s why he fled there; he thought no one would think to go there,” Jasmine said. “But we really must leave at once. We don’t have a moment to lose.”
The townspeople exchanged worried glances.
“Princess,” a man finally said, hesitantly, “we would like to help—we would. And we are sorry for Jamaal. Truly, we are. But none of us knows how to travel to those cliffs.”
“They’re dangerous,” a woman called out. “The water crashing against the cliffs makes the land slippery.”
“And in the dark, it’s all too simple to slip to one’s death.”
“But if we can’t help him, who will? He’s only a child!” Jasmine said, astonished.
“We aren’t proud of how we feel, Princess. We are good people. Really, we are. And we feel for the boy, but he also knew how dangerous those cliffs were.”
Jasmine couldn’t believe what she was hearing. During her brief time in Ababwa, these villagers had been kind and giving to her and Ali. And yet they were willing to let their fear overtake their compassion? They would let Jamaal die?
“I know it’s dangerous,” Jasmine said. “But think of Sultan Zayn the tenth. What kingdom have his wise words not reached?” she asked them. “Remember what he said about matters such as this? Did he not say that while the world is filled with kind and good people, the only way we can see a kind and good world is if we look beyond ourselves and intercede to help others when we can? If we don’t help Jamaal, he will die. And no one deserves a death like this.”
“She’s right,” said Zaria, taking a step forward. She looked over at the crowd. “He’s no different from Maha’s little boy, or any of our children in this kingdom…or us. We were all small and helpless once, too, weren’t we? He made a mistake going out there, he did. But with no parents to shade his path, it is we who must help him. If it were our own children out there, we would go in an instant.”
“I’m sorry I was callous,” one of the men said. “It’s been a tough few weeks in the kingdom. Our energies are a bit spent.”
“I understand,” said Jasmine. “Let us be judged tonight not on the words we said but on the actions we took. Will you help me?”
“Yes,” said the bread maker.
“Yes,” said Zaria.
“Yes!” shouted everyone, and Jasmine looked and realized the crowd had grown significantly. Every man, woman, and child from Ababwa stood straight at attention.
“Thank you.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “Now let’s save Jamaal.”
“YOUR PRINCESS is taking her sweet time,” mused Abbas. “Unlike you, I am a man of my word, and I will make good on my promise.”
Aladdin had no way to know what time it was or how much of it had passed, especially when each second felt like it lasted a lifetime.
And despite that, Aladdin was no closer to figuring out what he could do to save the boy and get out of Ababwa. Jamaal’s tears had stopped by now, salty and dried against his cheeks, as though he’d begun to accept his fate.
“Look, do you want the secret to the carpet’s magical ways or don’t you?” Aladdin tried yet again. “I will give them to you this time. You have my word.”
“Your word, eh? We both know what your word is worth.”
“It’s me you’re angry with,” Aladdin said, changing tactics. “Let me take the boy’s place. If she doesn’t come back in time, punish me. There’s no reason to kill him. He hasn’t done anything to you.”
“I wonder what part of him I’ll start with,” Abbas mused. He acted as though Aladdin hadn’t even said a word. Aladdin watched him wave his knife in the air. It glinted against the moonlight. “It’s been a while since I’ve had any real fun. Perhaps we could start with the toes? The fingers? Maybe I’ll have him decide. What say you, my friend?” He looked down at the boy and laughed.
Aladdin’s fists tightened. His jaw clenched. He wanted nothing more than to storm over and shove this villain to the ground.
A
bbas laughed at Aladdin.
“Want to strike me, don’t you? I have to admit this wouldn’t be nearly as much fun if you weren’t here. Your reactions are priceless, truly.” He glanced over his shoulder and then turned back to Aladdin. “You know there’s always the possibility that she is not coming back. Maybe she ran off to save herself in that ship she’d promised me. Can’t really blame her, can you? You and this waste of breath I’ve got under my arm aren’t really worth fighting for, if we’re being completely honest.” He looked up at the moon and squinted. “I’d say we have another five minutes, give or take. It’s a shame this has to end, though. After having only silverfish and the roaches for company all these years I was rather enjoying our chat, and I was most certainly looking forward to getting off this blasted place tonight. But no matter, whether it’s tonight or tomorrow night or next month, I will get out sooner or later.”
The boy started to struggle again, trying to kick against the man’s torso. Abbas smacked him against the head. The boy winced and then fell silent. Soon Jamaal would have welts on his head where the man had struck him.
But the boy is not truly alive, Aladdin reminded himself yet again. Any bruise that he might sustain didn’t actually count, did it? Even if Abbas were to follow through with his threat and kill Jamaal, it technically wouldn’t be murder, because the boy had never existed to begin with. It didn’t count.
Except it did. Because it all felt so real. And because all Aladdin could see when he looked at the little boy was himself, once upon a time. He also knew that even if the boy was not a real person, Aladdin was, and what he did or didn’t do would matter to him and stay with him for the rest of his life.
Aladdin knew that there was one thing he could do. One thing that would undoubtedly save this boy’s life and end all of this once and for all—a wish. He’d used one to become a prince, and he’d promised his final wish to free Genie. But there was still one more he could use. And though logically it felt preposterous to spend a wish on an imaginary boy, his choice to save him or not was a very real one. Aladdin wondered if he could reach into his satchel for the lamp without Abbas noticing.