The Forbidden Wish (5 page)

“Who will face Ukkad the Bull?” cries a ratty man who climbs into the ring. “Twenty gold pieces to the victor! Five to the loser!”

Aladdin starts to turn away, but then the crowd on the opposite side of the ring parts, and a fighter steps out and nimbly climbs into the small arena. A murmur of laughter ripples through the audience, and Aladdin rises to his feet, his eyes widening.

It's a slender young woman of seventeen or so. She wears a simple top cropped just above her navel and a long linen sarong held up by a leather belt. The skirt exposes one long, athletic leg, and save for a simple gold chain around her ankle, her feet are bare. She sheds her cloak and drapes it neatly over the rope surrounding the ring and then stretches her arms in front of her and tips her head to each shoulder, cracking her neck. She is pretty, her thick dark hair tied back in a simple braid and her eyes entirely smeared with kohl so it looks as if she's wearing a mask. She smiles at the Bull and bows, spreading her leather-wrapped hands wide.

I glance up at Aladdin and see his eyes alight with interest.

Aladdin waves Dal over. “Who is she?” he asks.

She rolls her eyes. “I don't know. Some East Sider, I'd guess. She's been out here every night for two weeks, brawling and then
vanishing. Doesn't even collect her winnings.” Her tone turns sour. “I'd keep my distance if I were you. That one's likely to break your arm if you anger her.”

The tendons in the Bull's neck bulge as he turns red and roars, “Who makes a mockery of me? I came here to fight men, not little girls!”

The girl spits at the ground between them, still smiling. “So did I, but it seems we must both leave disappointed.”

The crowd gasps, and the Bull's eyes nearly pop from his skull. Aladdin pushes through to the edge of the ring, and I scramble to keep up, looking wistfully toward the door, but it seems my master is intent on watching these events unfold. Resigned, I lean on one of the wooden posts supporting the rope perimeter and turn my attention back to the girl.

They have begun circling one another, their stances wide and tense, their eyes locked, but the Bull still seems hesitant, as if he thinks this is all a prank.

“You should go back to baking bread,” he says. “Or do you make your coin by warming beds? Perhaps once I've broken your pretty nose, I can use my winnings to have you warm mine.”

“I don't go in for livestock,” she returns.

With a wordless roar, the Bull charges. The audience holds its breath. Aladdin tenses, an enthralled smile tugging at his lips.

For a moment it seems she is finished, but at the last moment the girl smoothly dances aside and drives her elbow into the Bull's temple, knocking him off balance.

The crowd erupts back into life. The fights at the other rings have suspended, and now everyone is focused on the central match. Wagers are drawn—overwhelmingly in the Bull's favor, but a few adventurous spirits bet on the girl. Aladdin's hand goes
to his pocket, and he pulls out the Nerubyan coin, thoughtfully considering.

“You wouldn't,” I say.

“What? I like her style.”

“That coin is quite possibly the last remnant of a once-mighty civilization that existed for hundreds of—”

“A gold on the girl!” Aladdin calls, catching a bookmaker's attention.

I sigh and turn back to the fight.

Around and around they dance. She is a mouse desperate to avoid the stamping feet of an elephant, and the longer she evades, the more tired she gets. The crowd is frantic now as more money is thrown on the Bull. Aladdin leans in and mutters, “Come on, come on . . .”

I notice a few faces across the arena that watch with silent intensity, their eyes filled with worry. All of them are girls the age of the young warrioress in the arena, and they are all dressed similarly.

Then the Bull hesitates, stopping to catch his breath, and the girl takes the chance to rest as well. She is standing directly in front of Aladdin and me, within arm's reach. Bent over, her hands on her thighs, she gasps for air and drips sweat onto the sand.

Aladdin leans over the rope and whispers, “His right leg is slow. There's a hitch every other step. If you're quick . . .”

She looks over her shoulder, through strands of sweaty hair that have escaped her braid. “You betting on me, handsome?”

Aladdin grins. “You busy later?”

She shrugs and pops her knuckles, her eyes traveling over his shoulders and torso. “I think I could spare a minute.”

His grin widens, and the girl suddenly springs forward, sprinting toward the post behind the Bull. He snorts and moves to
intercept her, but she is too quick for him. With a cry she leaps into the air, plants a foot on the pole, and pushes off, vaulting through the air toward her opponent. Before he can make a move, she connects feet-first with his face, snapping his head around with an audible crunch. As he shakes his head and sways on his feet, she bats away one of his halfhearted punches and throws her bare leg up and around his neck, the other leg following. With her ankles locked behind his head, she arches and twists herself, her momentum bringing the Bull crashing facedown to the ground. Quick as a snake she rolls free and rises, then plants a foot on the back of his meaty neck.

Aladdin nearly falls into the arena as he whistles and cheers, more than a little drunk, and the rest of the crowd descends into chaos as the fight concludes. The gamblers settle their debts, and the few lucky ones who bet on the girl grab their winnings and then wisely disappear before they can be mugged. Aladdin wins back his gold piece and a pile of silver.

“I'm going in! Wish me luck!” he says breathlessly, and he climbs over the rope and joins the small crowd gathered around the girl, cheering her on and offering her drinks. I lean on the post and watch, shaking my head. Aladdin's sorrows seem entirely forgotten.

Dal appears at my side, her hands full of empty cups. She gives me an appraising look with one eyebrow arched. “I know that look.”

“What look?”

“Don't sweat it, sister. We've all had it.” She sighs. “The girls he loved and left.”

Irritably, I look away. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Sure you don't.” Dal smiles sadly. “You can either hate him or accept that that's just who he is. When Aladdin sets his heart on something—or some
one
—nothing can stop him from getting
it. And when he does have it, he realizes it's not what he wanted after all, and then something else will catch his eye, and off he goes again. Over and over. And here we are, the casualties.”

“I'm nobody's casualty.”

Aladdin has made his way to the girl's side and is chatting in her ear, crossing his muscular arms for her benefit. I can't help rolling my eyes.

“She's pretty,” says Dal. “And she's tough. But she's not what he wants. Not that he'll believe that until after he's won her.”

“And what
does
he want?” I turn and face the serving girl.

“The same thing we all want. He just won't admit it.” I see longing in her eyes, and also anger, when she looks at Aladdin. “Freedom from the past.”

I watch the thief thoughtfully, my face softening.

The girl in the ring says something, and Aladdin laughs, his smile lighting up his face. He leans over and whispers in her ear, and she nods, then takes his hand and coyly leads him from the ring, dodging admirers.

Dal sighs and shakes her head ruefully. “I give her four, maybe five days—hey! Where are you going? Let him go, sister! It's not worth it!”

I slip under the rope and into the ring, ignoring her.
You don't know anything about it, “sister.”
I am the last person in the world who is interested in Aladdin. What I
am
interested in is sticking close enough to him that I won't get inconveniently sucked back into my lamp.

I struggle through the crowd, trying to catch up to him, but a brawl breaks out between two gamblers, and I am knocked to the ground. Instead of trying to get up and fight my way back to Aladdin, I quietly shift into a tawny cat and dart through people's
legs until I reach him. If anyone did see me, they'll probably attribute it to too much simmon. I'm sure stranger things have been hallucinated in this den of sweat and barbarism.

Aladdin and the girl have escaped into the blissfully quiet street, where they laugh and walk through the shadows. In one of the buildings nearby, a baby cries and a dog barks in response. The smells of roasting meat and strong spices waft out of a window above us. Though the crowd in the Rings is surely still shouting and cheering, not a sound escapes through the wide stones beneath our feet.

I stalk across the cobblestones, tail high and ears alert to every sound—while trying to block out the sound of Aladdin and his new friend, who are laughing and whispering. Eventually they stop and stare at each other, the girl taking Aladdin's hands and drawing him close.

“What's your name?” he asks her.

“First tell me yours.”

“Aladdin.”

“I've heard of you.” She smiles and runs her hands down his chest.

Aladdin is like one intoxicated, but not only from the wine. He leans forward, until her back is to the wall, and he inhales the scent of her hair. “Oh, really? And what have you heard?”

Her hands move up to trace his jaw and his lips. “That you are bold and that you are the best at what you do. That you”—she plants a light kiss on the corner of his jaw—“even stole something valuable from Prince Darian.”

He pauses, his lips brushing her hair. “And where did you hear that?” he murmurs.

“You know how we girls are. Always gossiping.”

“About me?” He grins.

She laughs and lifts her face, enticing him with her lips, but when he moves his mouth to hers she turns her face and says in an entirely different tone, “
Finally.
Take him, girls. He's the one.”

Before I can make a move, a small knot of girls appears from the alley behind Aladdin, and a black bag is thrown over his head. The girl he'd been so close to kissing knocks him unconscious. I recognize them at once—the silent spectators in the Rings.

“A shame,” sighs the leader. “I think he'd have been a good kisser.”

Then she and the others drag him down the street and into the dark.

B
Y TRANSFORMING INTO A SPARROW
and flying overhead, I am able to follow the girls as they hurry through the streets, carrying Aladdin's unconscious body between them. The girl from the ring takes the lead, and silently they work their way south, sticking to side streets and avoiding lit and populated areas.

For now, I shadow them silently, waiting to see what they will do. To be honest, I am a bit vexed with Aladdin at the moment, and not very inclined to swoop in and save his drunken hide.

See what comes of kissing strange girls in dark alleys?
I want to tell him.

The girls stop to rest after several minutes, letting Aladdin drop rather heavily to the ground. I alight on a beam above them and listen.

“How much farther?” one asks. Through her veil, her voice is high and girlish.

“We've barely gotten anywhere,” replies another.

“My back is killing me!”

“
I'll
kill you if you don't stop complaining, Ensi.”

“No names!” snaps the leader.

“No one's listening!” Ensi protests. “Look around—we're alone!”

“Someone is
always
listening. So be silent, and let's keep moving.”

The girls sigh and hoist Aladdin up again, two with his arms, two with his legs. Exposed beams above them provide perches for me to flit to as I shadow them.

“He's heavier than he looks,” one complains.

“It's all these muscles,” says Ensi, giggling. She's holding one of his arms, and she squeezes his bicep appreciatively. “You didn't tell us he was so
handsome
. What a shame we had to put a bag over his head. And you had him wrapped around your finger!”

“Shush!” Their leader turns and draws a finger forcefully across her lips, signaling for silence.

Suddenly a shadow drops in front of them, and the girls halt. The shadow rises and drops its hood; it's another girl, this one tall and lithe, carrying a supple bow.

“Raz!” Ensi cries. “What is it?”

She reports, “Guards ahead. Too late to run. Act casual.”

The girls curse, drop Aladdin roughly, roll him into a gutter, then lean against the wall, hiding him with their cloaks. I land on the edge of the roof above them, the cool night wind ruffling my feathers. From my perch, I can see around the bend in the road, where the guards are walking toward the girls. There are six in all, wearing chain mail and pointed helmets.

When they round the corner, the girls look down at their feet. If
casual
is their intention, they're not doing a very good job. Five girls, dressed head to toe in black, standing silently in the gutter is
not exactly a common sight at any hour, much less the middle of the night.

And indeed, the guards stop short when they spot them.

“You there,” calls one. “What are you up to? Don't you know there's a curfew?”

“Just heading home,” says the girls' leader, keeping her eyes averted.

The guards, instead of walking on, gather around them, grinning and nudging each other.

“And where's home?” asks the first. “Madame Padyme's pleasure house, perhaps?”

His fellows laugh appreciatively, their eyes glowing with interest. The girls group closer together. Their hands move subtly, fingers wrapping around concealed weapons. Behind them, Aladdin groans.

The guard cocks his head. “What've you got there, eh?”

“None of your concern.” The girls' leader lifts her chin, stepping forward and staring down the guard.

He only laughs. “Tell you what, ladies. We'll make a deal. We'll give you the chance to
persuade
us not to arrest you for suspicious behavior. What do you say?”

Ensi sidles up to him and runs her finger down his chest. “Well . . . I'd say that's quite generous of you.”

His tongue darts across his lips, and he snakes a hand around her waist—only to have her twist out of reach and fling a hand toward him, a burst of blue powder exploding on his face. He drops instantly. Ensi already has another handful of the stuff ready, drawn from a pouch on her belt. The other girls draw daggers, and Raz nocks an arrow onto her bow. They all pull veils across their faces, protecting themselves against the powder Ensi throws.

The guards, startled only for a moment, pull out their swords, but the girls are already attacking. They move with deadly precision. Ensi's poisoned powder takes down another guard, while the leader and a third girl knock another two unconscious with the hilts of their daggers. At first I can't tell how the fourth girl bests her opponent—but then I see it: a yellow-and-white snake coiling up her arm. Its victim foams at the mouth, his eyes rolling backward in his head as he falls, a hand clasped to the bite on his neck.

The last guard backs away, his face white.

“I—I'm new at this. I never meant—please!” He turns and flees.

The leader nods to the archer. “Don't kill him. They
are
just doing their job, however reprehensibly.”

Raz nods and draws back her arrow. The man is twenty paces away when she lets fly. The bolt strikes his helmet, knocking him flat before deflecting harmlessly. He strikes his head on the stones and falls still.

The fight is over before it hardly began, without a single guard getting in a blow. The girls clean up quickly, dragging them all behind a stack of barrels between two buildings, where they'll likely lie unnoticed till dawn. Ensi administers a few drops of clear liquid to the one with the snakebite.

“He'll live,” she says. “But he won't be visiting his
pleasure
houses any time soon.” She spits on him, then giggles.

Their leader sighs and nudges Aladdin with the toe of her boot. “Well, not exactly how I hoped things would go. We'll have to hurry.”

•   •   •

Ensi, whose store of potions and powders seems impressively thorough, wakes Aladdin with a small bottle of white liquid that she
holds under his nose. He comes to with a gasp and starts coughing. The girls stand in a close circle around him, their expressions grim.

After their brief fight with the guards, they carried Aladdin through the city, to an old storehouse near the south wall. Inside rests the partially constructed hull of a ship, but judging by the cobwebs collecting on it, no one has touched it in a while. It sits upside down, like the rib cage of a whale. The girls dumped Aladdin on his knees on the floor beneath it, his hands bound behind him. I sit nearby, in the form of a black cat with green eyes, watching. The lamp is still concealed, but for who knows how long.

I'm starting to feel a bit exhausted. First the prince in the desert, now these girl assassins or whatever they are—I will grant the thief this: My time with him has been anything but dull.

Aladdin blinks and groans, his head rolling. “Bleeding gods . . . What . . . ?”

He focuses on the faces around him and goes still, confusion crinkling the corners of his eyes. They watch him by the light of torches as he twists his bound hands, his fingers brushing against the hidden lamp. “What the . . . Who in the black skies are you?”

“We'll be the ones asking questions, thief,” replies the girls' leader.

His eyes roam the room searchingly, and I pad softly out of the shadows. When he sees me, he lifts a brow, and I blink slowly in response.

“Oh, look!” Ensi cries, following his gaze. “A cat! Here, little sweets!” She leans down and holds out a hand, and I run to her and rub against her ankle, purring when she picks me up and scratches my ears. Aladdin rolls his eyes just slightly. I hiss at him.

The leader removes her hood and pulls her braid over her shoulder. “You
are
Aladdin, son of Mustapha the tailor, are you not?”

“Finish that kiss you were about to give me, and I might tell you.” He tilts his head, studying her with fascination.

“I remember hearing of your rebel father,” she replies, drawing Aladdin's eyes back to her. “As a child, I admired his courage, though my parents often cursed his name.”

He watches her closely, the corners of his lips turning slightly upward, as if amused. “You took down the Bull like he was no bigger than a goat. Who are you? Why haven't I heard of you before?”

The girl drops to a crouch in front of Aladdin, pulling out a dagger and twirling it idly while she locks eyes with him. “A few weeks ago, I hired you to steal something. And now I want it.”

“What?” He looks around at the girls, bewildered. “Look, I don't know what you're talking about. I've never met you before. And I certainly didn't steal anything—”

The girl presses the dagger to Aladdin's cheek, and he stiffens.

“The ring,” she says softly. “Where is it?”

Aladdin lifts an eyebrow. “Don't tell me you work for
Xaxos
. I'd definitely have heard of you if you do.”

“I don't work for Xaxos,” she replies, lowering the dagger. “Xaxos works for me.”

He digests this in silence, shock turning to skepticism. “Are you saying that
you're
the Phoenix? You're the mysterious rebel who set those prisoners free and stopped a plague?”

“We helped her,” says Ensi, pouting a little. “I don't know why they couldn't call us the Phoenix
es
. I'm the one who made all those little bottles of medicine, remember?”

“Hush, Ensi,” says the leader. To Aladdin, she replies, “It's complicated, all right? But I
am
the one Xaxos works for, and I
am
the one you have to answer to for not giving me that ring!”

“The Phoenix,” Aladdin repeats, shaking his head a little. “
The
Phoenix. Does Xaxos know you're a girl half his age?” He laughs. “I'd love to see his face—”

“How long is this going to take?” the archer asks suddenly. “They'll notice we're gone.”

“There
are
faster ways of interrogating someone,” says the one with the snake. She opens her cloak, and the viper coils down her arm, tongue flickering. I stiffen in Ensi's arms, my hackles rising. The snake lifts its head and glares at me; animals are never fooled by jinn disguises.

“Hush, Khavar,” the leader is saying. “Raz, go stand outside, in case any guards get curious.”

The archer nods and heads to the door, looping her bow over her shoulder. Khavar keeps glaring at Aladdin, her snake coiling around her arm and resting its head on the back of her hand.

Aladdin swallows hard, his eyes fixed on the reptile. “Look, even if what you say is true, I don't have the ring. Maybe Xaxos didn't pass on the message, but I never had it to begin with. Not that I didn't
try
.” He laughs and lifts a shoulder. “I
am
the best thief in—”

“You're lying.” The leader stands up and crosses her arms. “Two nights after I had Xaxos hire a thief to steal the ring, Darian rode out like a madman in the middle of the night, his best soldiers with him. He hasn't been seen for days. There's only one object he would go to such lengths to recover. You
did
steal that ring, and now you're going to give it to me.”

“What do you want with it?” he asks. “Who
are
you? A revolutionary? A thief? What's your name?”

The girl only stares at Aladdin, her brow creasing. She seems to waver for a moment, then she looks up at one of her girls and nods.

“Nessa, tell him.”

Nessa, the quietest of the group, steps behind the leader and pronounces in a low voice, “Aladdin rai Mustapha, pay your respects to your king's daughter, your princess, and your sovereign, Caspida nez Anadredca of Parthenia, Heiress to the Throne, Jewel of the Amulens, the Beloved of the Gods, and First Daughter of the Anadredcan Dynasty.”

Startled to my core, I stare with new eyes at Caspida. I have known an Anadredca before: Queen Roshana Mithraya nez Anadredca. This girl is
your
descendant, Habiba. Your heir. Could it be, after everything that happened that day, that your bloodline lived on? That your little daughter was saved from the destruction and smuggled out of Neruby and crowned amid the ruins of your empire?

Aladdin goes very still, his eyes unreadable—but I see with more than eyes. My sixth sense picks up waves of shock and anger rolling off him.

“You mean
her
?” he asks slowly. “The girl I kissed?”

“
Almost
kissed,” Caspida corrects.

“She is your future
queen
!” Khavar snaps, and with her foot she shoves him forward, sending him sprawling. “Show more deference.”

“Khavar! Enough.” Caspida holds up a hand. “Step away.”

Khavar shoots Aladdin a dark look as she stands aside. He struggles back onto his knees, his face pale. He stares at Caspida with wide eyes. And then he laughs, drawing astonished looks from the girls, his voice echoing through the warehouse. Raz sticks her head through the door and shushes him, and only then does he break off, coughing a little.

“Sorry,
Princess
.” He brings his hands forward, and the ropes they'd bound his wrists with fall to the floor. Khavar starts forward
threateningly, but Aladdin throws up a hand. “Easy there, snake eyes. I'm not going to run.”

Turning to Caspida, he asks, “What's going on here? I'm supposed to believe you're some kind of rebel, only to find out you're a
royal
?” He throws a finger toward the door. “There are people out there who leave offerings at the temples in the name of the Phoenix. They believe you're a guardian, a savior. They sing your praises, wear your symbol—but they have no idea you're one of
them.
One of the same oppressive rulers they think you're protecting them from!”

“I never claimed to be a savior,” she returns coldly. “And believe me, I wish I could tell them the truth. But not all battles can be fought in the light. Those
people
out there are
my
people, thief, and I will fight for them. The Phoenix is the only way I have. The moment I step out of the shadows, my uncle will see to it that I never cross him again. Aladdin, I'm on
your
side! Why do you think I asked Xaxos to hire
you
to steal the key? I'd heard you were a great thief, yes, but I thought of all people, you'd understand my cause.”