The Charmingly Clever Cousin (4 page)

S
OBBING,
N
AR FLED THE
G
RAND
H
ALL.
T
HE
princesses ran after her.

“Don't worry, Nar!” Fatima cried. “I'll find a way to convince Yusuf to hire you back. Who cares about a missing roast?”

“But you don't understand!” wailed Nar. “I didn't steal it!”

“Honest?” said Lysandra.

“I'm sure it's fine if you did,” said Tansy.
“You were probably hungry.”

Nar crossed her arms and glared at the princesses. “You don't believe me.”

Fatima blinked. “You mean you
didn't
steal that chicken?”

“No!” shouted Nar. “That's what I've been trying to tell you!”

“Then I wonder who, or what, did?” said Elena, frowning.

Nar shook her head. “I wish I knew. But I know it wasn't any rat. I'm the one scrubbing the kitchen each night now that the girl who used to do it is gone. The Royal Chef won't let me leave till the whole kitchen sparkles like dew.”

Fatima put her arm around Nar's shoulder. “We're sorry we didn't believe you,” she said. “We do now, and we're going to prove you didn't take that food.”

Nar's eyes widened. “How will you do that?”

Fatima smiled at her friends. “We'll find a way to catch the
real
thief!”

 

That night, long after everyone else had gone to bed, the princesses sneaked into the kitchen and hid in the pantry. Fatima left the door open a crack so they could keep an eye on the entrance to the cold cellar.

Lysandra yawned. “How long do you
think we'll have to wait?” she whispered.

“I don't know,” Fatima admitted. She hoped she wasn't keeping the others up for nothing.

“Shh,” said Tansy, cocking her head. “I think I hear something.”

The princesses froze. Footsteps sounded in the hallway. The kitchen door swung open and a cloaked figure crept into the room.
Fatima strained to see the intruder's face, but it was hidden by a hood.

Holding their breaths, the princesses watched the stranger go down into the cellar. In a few minutes he—or maybe it was a
she
—reappeared, carrying that evening's leftover chicken. The stranger set the bird on the kitchen table, then disappeared into the cellar a second time, bringing up more leftovers. After cramming the food into a bag, the thief slung it over a shoulder. The bag caught at the cloak, and the hood fell back.

Yusuf?
Fatima covered her mouth so he wouldn't hear her gasp. What was he up to? And how dare he fire Nar when
he
was the one stealing the food! Fatima was about to push open the pantry door and confront him when she remembered what Ahmed had said:
Fatima is too impulsive. She does things without
considering if her actions could be dangerous.

But Yusuf wouldn't hurt her or any of the others, would he? Fatima bit her lip. She didn't know what this Yusuf, this
changed
Yusuf, would or wouldn't do. Holding a finger to her lips to caution the others, Fatima waited until Yusuf left the room.

When the palace doors clanged shut, the princesses crept out of the pantry and ran to Fatima's room. From her window, they watched Yusuf load the stolen food into his horse's saddlebags.

“I wonder where he's going with all that food?” Elena asked.

Tansy tapped her foot impatiently. “We won't know unless we follow him.”

“What's keeping us?” said Lysandra. “Let's go!”

But Fatima stopped them. “Let's wait. If
Yusuf is back by morning, maybe he'll explain what's going on. Anyway, waiting will give us more time to think.” That's what Ahmed would want her to do if he were here, she thought.

They watched as Yusuf swung a leg over his horse and galloped away. Lysandra looked worried. “And what if he
doesn't
come back?”

“He will,” Fatima said. “He's got too many ideas for running this palace
not
to come back.”

 

Sure enough, when the princesses arrived for breakfast late the next morning, Yusuf was finishing a large cheese omelette. “Morning, Princesses,” he said. “I trust you slept well.”

Fatima raised an eyebrow. “Fine, thanks. How about you?”

“Like a baby,” said Yusuf. He patted his mouth with a napkin, missing a bit of egg on
his mustache. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do.” He rose from the table.

Fatima frowned, but decided not to mention seeing him last night. Not yet, anyway. Angry that he'd lied, she decided not to tell him about the egg on his mustache, either.

After Yusuf left, the princesses sat down to eat. “Yusuf is up to something for sure,” said Lysandra. “If he sneaks out again tonight, I say we follow him.”

Before Fatima could reply, the Royal Chef burst into the room. Dropping a tray of muffins on the table, he rushed back to the kitchen before Fatima could even thank him. She reached for a poppy seed muffin. “We'll take my flying carpet. The dark should help to hide us.”

Tansy took a blueberry muffin. “Sounds good.”

With a thoughtful expression on her face, Elena remarked, “I've been wondering about that letter.”

“What letter?” asked Lysandra.

“The one Yusuf gave Selime. He said Ahmed wrote it. Do you suppose she still has it?”

Fatima stared at her. “Are you thinking Ahmed
didn't
write that letter?”

“I don't know,” Elena said honestly. “But if you think Selime wouldn't mind, maybe we could take a look at it.”

“Let's go!” Fatima said, jumping up from the table.

The princesses found Selime in her room, playing with Hassim. When they told her what they wanted, Selime searched in her desk for Ahmed's letter while Elena held the baby. He squealed and gurgled happily in her arms.

“Here it is,” said Selime, handing Fatima
the letter. “I don't like the changes Yusuf has been making either. But I'm afraid this was definitely written by Ahmed. I know his handwriting.”

Fatima read the letter as Lysandra and Tansy looked over her shoulder:

Fatima sighed. “Seems clear to me.”

Tansy and Lysandra nodded.

Elena jiggled a cooing Hassim up and down on her knees. “May I have a look?”

“Sure,” said Fatima. She handed the letter to Elena, then reached for Hassim, who wailed when she plucked him from Elena's lap.

Elena's eyes scanned the letter once, then widened as she scanned it a second time. “I think that Ahmed was writing this letter in a kind of code!” she exclaimed. “By switching around a few commas and periods, the meaning changes completely. Listen:

When Elena finished reading the letter, the princesses stared at one another in alarm.

S
ELIME COLLAPSED ONTO A CHAIR.
“I
F
E
LENA IS
right about the letter, Ahmed is in danger!” she cried. “The only way Yusuf can become king is if King Murad and Ahmed
both
die before Hassim is old enough to rule.”

Lysandra shook her head. “I don't understand. Isn't Prince Ahmed at King Murad's palace? How could he be in danger there?”

Fatima frowned. “I don't know, but I'm
going to find out. Follow me, everyone. To the Crystal Ball Room!”

The Crystal Ball Room housed the palace's crystal ball, which could be used to look in on the Crystal Ball Room in any other palace or castle. If no one happened to be in the room, you could place a message in front of the ball to be read later.

With Selime carrying Hassim, the princesses hurried along one hallway and down another, past Ahmed's library. But when they reached the open doorway of the Crystal Ball Room, they gasped. The marble tabletop stood empty. The crystal ball was gone!

Footsteps sounded behind the princesses, and they turned around. Yusuf stood in the hallway. As they watched, he drew his sword.

Selime's cheeks flushed. “Just where is my crystal ball?” she demanded.

Yusuf smiled. Running a thumb over the
sword's blade, he said, “I'm afraid your crystal ball was looking a bit dull. I sent it away to be polished.” He motioned toward her with the tip of his sword. His dark eyes narrowed. “What was the message you wanted to send? Must have been important for all of you to come at once.”

Fatima bit her lip. He mustn't know they suspected he was up to no good! So, in a lighthearted voice, she said, “Oh, that's too bad. We asked Selime if we could have a party next week, and we wanted to send messages home to have our best dresses delivered.”

Yusuf seemed to relax a little. “Ah—a splendid idea, but I'm afraid a party right now is out of the question.”

“But why?” asked Lysandra, pretending to pout.

“Because next week I'm having the Grand Hall and the Ballroom completely remodeled.”
Yusuf glanced quickly in Selime's direction. “I'm going to bring this palace up-to-date.”

“How nice,” said Selime, with faked enthusiasm.

That afternoon Selime kept Yusuf busy, pretending to be interested in his plans for remodeling. Meanwhile, the princesses holed up in Fatima's room, making their own plans. “We must find Ahmed,” said Fatima, “before it's too late.”

“Shall we travel to King Murad's palace then?” asked Tansy.

Fatima shook her head. “I'm not sure he's there.”

“Where else would he be?” Tansy asked.

“I don't know,” said Fatima. “But I suspect Yusuf is keeping him prisoner somewhere. I think he went to see Ahmed last night. That's why he took food from the kitchen.”

Elena nodded. “Exactly what I was thinking.”

“But there are four of us,” Lysandra reminded them. “Five with Selime. We can overpower Yusuf—maybe tie him up. Then we can force him to tell us where Ahmed is.”

Fatima thought about Yusuf's sharp sword. “Even if we could capture him, he'd only lie. And we're not completely sure we're right, anyway.” She paused to think. “I say we stick with our earlier plan and follow him when he sneaks out tonight.”

“
If
he sneaks out tonight,” said Tansy.

“Right,” they all agreed.

 

That night the princesses kept watch for Yusuf from Fatima's window. Midnight came and went, and still they hadn't seen him.

“Maybe he left the palace a different way,” Lysandra said after a while.

“Or maybe he's not leaving at all tonight,” said Tansy.

Fatima had to admit that either scenario was possible. Still, she tried not to let herself think the worst—that there was no need for Yusuf to bring food because Ahmed was already dead.

Finally, however, they heard a soft whinny, and Yusuf's black stallion appeared from around the side of the palace. In a few more minutes, Yusuf came out with a bundle, stuffed it into his saddlebag, and was off.

The princesses wrapped cloaks around their clothes, then swooped through the open window on Fatima's carpet. The moon lit their way as they followed Yusuf. His horse skirted the village and galloped into the countryside. As she flew above an olive orchard, Fatima saw Yusuf glance over his shoulder at the sky. Her heart beating fast, she skimmed behind a tree, hoping he hadn't seen them. If he had, she hoped he'd mistaken them for some strange,
large bat. After a while, when he didn't stop or turn back, the girls continued to follow.

They'd been traveling for nearly two hours when they came to a desolate place with scrubby trees and a few crumbling buildings. “Looks like an abandoned village,” whispered Elena.

“Whoa!” said Yusuf, reining in his horse. He dismounted, pulled the bundle from his saddlebag, and strode over to what looked, from above, like a round circle of stones.

“I brought you some food, Ahmed!” he yelled, tossing the bundle down. “But if you don't do as I ask, it's the last you'll get.”

Fatima gasped. “It's a well,” she hissed to the others. “Yusuf is keeping Ahmed in a well!” She lowered the carpet behind one of the crumbling buildings where they could watch without being seen.

Now Ahmed's voice echoed from the bottom of the well. “You slimy worm!” he cried. “You son of a dung beetle! God knows, I
don't want to be king yet, but I'll never give up the throne to you!”

“Then you've made your choice!” yelled Yusuf.

Mounting his horse, he sped away as Ahmed continued to hurl curses. “You mealy-mouthed maggot! You pimple on the face of the earth!”

Fatima couldn't help smiling. She never would've guessed that her own brother-in-law, who scolded
her
for cursing, was an expert at it!

After waiting a few minutes to make sure Yusuf wasn't going to return, the princesses approached the well and peered over the edge.

“Ahmed!” Fatima called into the dark hole.

“It's me, Fatima!

My friends and I have come to rescue you!”