If I choose Aladdin, the consequences will be disastrous. I’ve been down this road before. I haunted the ruins of your city, Habiba, for five hundred years, with the ghosts of those I condemned to die—all because I was stupid enough, arrogant enough, to believe I could love. Perhaps it would be better to go with Zhian now, for the sake of everyone in Parthenia.
The horizon burns like molten gold, and somewhere, Aladdin is being dragged from a cell. What must he be thinking? That I have abandoned him? And suddenly I realize: I never told him I love him. He must have said it to me a dozen times, but I was always too afraid to speak the words. I feared the consequences, wanted to postpone the inevitable—but now the moment has come, and I must choose. Love or freedom? A month ago I would have laughed to think I would feel such agony at the choice. But that was before Aladdin. That was before I knew the kind of freedom I felt just being with him.
“If you’re not free to love,” I whisper, “you’re not free at all.”
And suddenly I know.
I’ve known for days. Since I kissed Aladdin. Since we danced, our breaths held and our eyes locked. Since we lay in the grass, laughing in the sunlight at my miserable attempts at thievery. Every glance, every touch, every whisper between us has been a pebble added to the scales, tipping me toward a new direction. I don’t know the exact moment I fell in love with Aladdin, but I know I am still falling.
And I never want to stop.
“I’m not going to Ambadya with you, Zhian,” I say. “I’m staying here.”
Zhian lets out a long, slow breath, his pupils dilating until his eyes are entirely black. His form changes, growing and sharpening, horns sprouting from his head and his feet hardening into hooves. His skin takes on a reddish tint, and smoke gathers around him. He is part man, part bull, part smoke.
Caspida gasps, and the sound catches Zhian’s ear. He turns toward her, his eyes settling on the lamp.
“If you won’t come by choice, sister,” he growls, “then you will be dragged to the Shaitan’s feet!”
“No!” I shout, springing and shifting all at once. With my abilities limited by the lamp, I can’t take a shape to match his in strength, but I have to do something. I take tiger form, bounding across the grass and leaping to intercept him before he can strike Caspida. The princess bravely holds up her blade, ready to meet him, but it will hardly save her. Zhian is twice her size now and much, much deadlier.
I strike him in the chest, just enough to throw him off balance and block his blow.
“Caspida!” I growl. “I can’t hold him off much longer!”
Zhian clouts me hard in the ribs, and I fly through the air and land hard on the grass, digging in my claws to spring back at him. Dirt flies everywhere as I bound toward the jinni, a snarl baring my fangs. He’s ready when I spring, and he steps aside, batting me hard into the earth. I roll wildly toward the cliff’s edge, barely saving myself from toppling over it. Zhian holds out a hand, a flame flickering to life above his palm. In moments, the flame swells into a writhing knot of fire.
This he hurls at me, and I throw myself wide as the flames explode where I’d been standing.
“Caspida!” I cry, shifting again, back into my human form. This time, I’m dressed in leather leggings and a cropped bandeau, my hands each gripping a long, curved sword. I run toward Zhian, and when he swings at me, I drop to my knees, skidding across the grass as I slice at his legs. He roars when one of the blades cuts his thigh. Smoke pours from the wound, which closes immediately.
He manifests a sword of his own, and I stagger in the attempt to block his strike. I parry once, twice, thrice, before his superior strength knocks both my swords from my hands and they dissolve into smoke. He lets his own evaporate, and he lunges for me, wrapping a massive hand around my throat and lifting me high, my feet dangling.
“All those years ago,” he growls, “when my father was purging the Shaitan, eliminating all his rivals, I begged for your life. You would have been killed like all the others, but I told him you were different. I saved you, and this is how you repay me?”
I can’t reply. He’s crushing my throat. I start to shift, but he shakes me hard, making my head ring until I can’t even think what to shift to. My vision turns dark, and I realize he isn’t going to stop. He intends to kill me here and now.
But then a sudden prickle of energy races across my skin, and words penetrate the raging pain in my head, like soft feathers drifting through a storm.
“I wish for my Watchmaidens to be brought safely to me.”
Caspida has made a wish. Not the wish I’d wanted to hear, but it’s enough to grant me a thousand and one times more strength than I have on my own. I burst into smoke, swelling in a plume above Zhian’s head. He snarls and whirls to Caspida, but she is not alone. Raz, Ensi, Nessa, and Khavar all stand around her, staggering a bit, their eyes wide with confusion and horror at the sight of the jinn prince. I pour onto the grass, back into human shape, and run to Caspida.
“What’s going on?” cries Ensi, her hands in her powder pouches. “What by Imohel is that?”
Zhian draws himself up, his dark gaze fixed on me. “You know what happens next.”
I nod.
“I will tell Nardukha of your treachery, and he will come. He will rouse from the depths of Ambadya and bring with him all his jinn, and we will destroy you, this boy, and this entire city.”
“Go, then,” says Caspida suddenly, stepping forward. She spits at the jinn prince. “Damn you, and damn all your kind. I am Queen Caspida of the Amulens, and I do not fear you. Bring your worst, because I will be waiting.”
I touch her arm. “Princess, you don’t have to—”
She shrugs me away and raises her sword toward Zhian. “This war between our people has gone on far too long. Let it end today. Aladdin and Zahra are my citizens, and I will defend them to my last breath.”
He snarls, tensing as if to spring at us, but Caspida whirls and cries, “Now, Nessa!”
As Zhian lunges, the jinn charmer pulls out her flute and begins to play, the music stopping him dead. I conjure a thick turban for myself, covering my ears and blocking the sound. Her music holds Zhian enthralled, his mouth slack and his eyes dull. Her hands tremble, but she doesn’t miss a note.
“Caspida, dawn will break at any moment,” I say.
She tears her eyes from Zhian and stares at me as if she hasn’t heard.
“They’ll kill Aladdin. Please—”
“All right,” she mouths, her words muffled through my turban. “I believe you, Zahra. You aren’t responsible for Roshana’s death. The Shaitan is. And you truly love the thief. You would even surrender your freedom for his sake.”
“Don’t let it be in vain,” I plead.
She nods and looks around at her girls, who still look shocked at their sudden change in circumstances. But they meet her gaze solemnly, staunchly loyal.
Turning back to me, Caspida reaches out and grasps my hand, as if the monstrous son of the Shaitan were not looming over us, his mind enchanted by the notes coiling around us. The princess’s eyes catch and hold the fires of dawn as she speaks.
“I wish to save Aladdin’s life.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
THE SIX OF US VANISH from the cliffs in a swirl of smoke, and Nessa’s playing ceases. I just have time to glimpse Zhian shifting to smoke and racing toward Mount Tissia and the alomb atop it, to return to Ambadya.
We do not have much time.
The crest of the sun rises from the sea just as the girls and I appear on the steps leading up to the palace. At the top, Aladdin is on his knees, struggling against the guards who are shoving his head down, one of them lifting a sword. The sight sends a spasm of horror racketing through me, and as Caspida and the Watchmaidens stumble, disoriented, I spring into motion. The power of the princess’s wish still courses through me, silver-bright
as the moon, and I shape it instinctively. I stride quickly up the steps toward the executioners, throwing out a hand.
Tigers of smoke and wind materialize behind the soldiers around Aladdin. The men cry out in shock and terror as the phantom beasts spring, tackling them to the ground and dragging them away from the thief. Swords and lances clatter on the stones. When their job is done, the tigers evaporate into the air. With a snap, I release the rest of the remaining magic, and thick vines burst from the ground and tether the soldiers down, pinning their arms at their sides.
There is no longer any point in hiding what I am. And so I ascend the stair in a gown of red smoke and silk, long and fluttering and coiling, driven by a singleness of purpose and a clarity of thought that I have not felt in a very long time. I have lost my last and only chance at freedom, and I regret nothing. The ring I made for Aladdin disappears from my pocket and reforms on my finger, glinting in the dawn.
Aladdin rises, using a fallen sword to cut the rope binding his wrists. His eyes widen, and when I reach him, I don’t hesitate.
I throw my arms around him and kiss him deeply, pouring all the fear, despair, and hope of the last day into that touch. He responds at once, one hand on my back, pressing me to him, the other in my hair. His lips are urgent and intense, and I feel his own fear and relief, the adrenaline coursing through him.
When we break apart, he rests his forehead against mine and laughs hoarsely.
“If I am dead,” he murmurs, “then let them kill me a thousand times, just so I can be greeted like that on the other side.”
“I thought I’d lost you.”
“Thought I’d lost me too. But you came.”
“I had help.” Pulling reluctantly away, I look to Caspida and the Watchmaidens, who are running up the steps.
“Trouble!” Ensi warns, pointing behind us, and we turn to see more soldiers gathering outside the palace.
Caspida curses. “They know we’re here.”
The soldiers are getting closer, their spears flashing in the dawn light. The Watchmaidens brace themselves, looking small and delicate in the wave of men rushing toward them, until a barrage of arrows is suddenly loosed from a row of archers to the left. We retreat down the steps and behind a low stone wall as the arrows clatter on the stair where we’d been standing. The sound of shouting and clanging weapons gets louder as the men draw nearer. Raz leans around the wall, firing arrows and holding the soldiers at bay for a few moments.
“Sulifer has the entire army and the Eristrati under his control,” says Nessa. “We won’t even make it to the doors!”
“Wish for the city,” I say urgently, “and I will deliver it to you! Caspida, you must see that this is the only way!”
“I can’t!” she shouts, her composure cracking as she meets my eyes. “Don’t you understand? If I use jinn magic to fight Sulifer, then I’m no better than he is! Then I’m no queen at all!”
“But we have no army,” says Nessa gently.
“Your Highness,” says Aladdin suddenly, “you don’t need an army.”
She gives him a questioning look, and he turns and waves a hand at the city spread below.
“You have the people. They’ve been waiting for months for the Phoenix to give the signal. They will follow you anywhere!”
Caspida’s eyes brighten a little, but then she shakes her head. “I can’t ask them to fight my battle for me, not against armed and trained men.”
“This isn’t just your battle,” Aladdin replies. “This has been our fight for years. It’s our families Sulifer has been tearing apart, our lives he has crushed. We’ve only been waiting for the right person to lead us, and here you are. They wear your colors, paint your sigil on the walls. Maybe you didn’t set out to create a revolution, but the revolution has been waiting for years for the right spark. Let us fight, and we will all take back our city together.”
Caspida looks around at her girls, and they all nod. To Aladdin, she opens a hand in assent. “Go, then. May Imohel grant you speed.”
His eyes burn with purpose, and he begins slipping away, squeezing my hand before letting go.
“I’ll bring help,” he says. “Hold them off as long as you can.”
And then he’s gone, dashing down the stair and dodging the few arrows fired after him. I stare in disbelief, unable to bear seeing him disappear after only just getting him back. But Caspida still holds the lamp, and I cannot follow.
“I’m out,” says Raz, throwing down her bow and dropping her empty quiver. “They’re coming.”
“Watchmaidens,” says the princess, looking at each of her girls in turn, her gaze finally settling on me. “Are you with me?”
Khavar, her snake coiled tightly on her forearm, draws a short dagger and licks the blade, her eyes glinting with a feral light. “In victory or death, I will be at your side, sister.”
“And I,” the others echo.
“And I,” I murmur, and they glance at me, surprised. I lock gazes with Caspida. “If you won’t wish for the city, then let me fight with you.” Slowly, my silk robes harden into shining battle armor, and twin swords appear behind my shoulders.
Caspida secures the lamp on her belt and nods. She grasps my hand, her pulse pounding through me like a battle drum. “In victory or death, jinni.”
With that, she stands, and we rise behind her.
There are about twenty soldiers marching toward us, all lancers. They are too near us now for the archers to continue firing without hitting their own men.
Caspida leaps onto the low wall and cries out, “Men of Parthenia! I am your true queen! Stand down, or be found guilty of treason!”
The men exchange glances but don’t stop advancing.
With a heavy sigh, the princess twirls her knives, then nods to us. We charge from behind the wall, the Watchmaidens calling out in ululating tones like the wild mountain warriors of old.
Ensi takes the lead, laughing madly, and the Watchmaidens draw their veils over their faces as she slings the first handful of blue powder. It hits three soldiers, blinding them, and they scream and drop their weapons to claw at their eyes. Ensi launches herself off the ground, flipping over their fallen forms to sling more powder at the next row of men.
Then the rest of us clash with the soldiers, steel ringing against steel. I stand back-to-back with Nessa, my ears roaring with the sound of battle. We fall into a rhythm, parrying, slashing, dodging lances. I keep glancing at the steps, hoping to see Aladdin leading in reinforcements, until the soldiers close in on us and I’m forced to focus on fighting.
The Watchmaidens are cunning, and they draw the soldiers apart. Any one of the girls is the match of two soldiers, but we are outnumbered nearly four to one, and more soldiers will doubtless arrive any moment once Sulifer learns we are here.
A man swipes at my legs with his spear, trying to trip me, and I leap over it and spin, my sword catching his arm and forcing him to drop the weapon. He lands on his knees, white with pain, and I knock him unconscious with the hilt of my sword. With a moment to breathe, I look around and see we are being pressed back, their numbers proving too strong. More soldiers come running in from our left, and I hear Sulifer shouting above them:
“Kill the traitor queen! Bring me the lamp!”
I drop my hands and shut my eyes, letting myself dissolve into the wind, scarlet smoke. I swell and expand, filling the wide avenue and obscuring the soldiers’ vision. The new arrivals skid to a halt, confused and disoriented, slashing blindly in the fog.
“Fall back!” Caspida cries. “To me!”
The Watchmaidens follow the sound of her voice, and I cover them as they retreat behind the wall. While the girls catch their breath, the soldiers advance from the palace, their ranks swelling with black-clad Eristrati. They press on slowly, blinded by my smoke but driven onward by Sulifer’s commands. I withdraw to join the pr
incess, shifting back into my human form.
“They are nearly upon us,” I say. “Thirty, forty, perhaps fifty of them, and more coming. We won’t last five minutes.”
Above us, the sky is growing darker despite the sun rising. Black clouds gather near the summit of Mount Tissia, and I know that Zhian has reached Nardukha, and that our time grows thin. I watch the mountain anxiously, knowing the real battle waits at its peak.
“We have no choice,” murmurs the princess, drawing me back to the battle at hand. “Sisters, I am sorry I have led you to this.”
“We would have it no other way,” says Nessa, and the others nod and grasp hands.
“If we’re to die,” says Raz, “let us die fighting.”
At that moment, a shout turns our heads.
“For the Phoenix Queen!” the cry goes up. “For the people!”
Aladdin appears, running down the street, carrying a sword he got from who knows where. Behind him, a horde of people are racing, gripping knives and scythes, staves and camel whips. Butchers, carpet sellers, fishmongers, housewives, Parthenians of every age, size, and trade, men and women both, raise up a mighty shout.
“For the Phoenix Queen!”
“For the people!”
And even a few scattered cries of “For the Tailor’s Son!”
They all wear red armbands, and someone waves a huge banner with a phoenix sigil on it, likely stolen from a temple to Nykora, the phoenix goddess. Aladdin whoops and cheers them on and whistles when he catches sight of us. He’s flanked by Dal and Balak, the girl and the doorman from the Rings.
Behind us, the soldiers falter, realizing their numbers are not so great, not when faced with the people they’ve oppressed, cheated, and enslaved for years.
Somewhere toward the palace, Sulifer is screaming, “Fight, you fools! They’re only peasants with sticks!”
But many of those sticks are sharpened or on fire, and someone hurls a flaming brand at the soldiers. It lands harmlessly in front of them, scattering embers, but it breaks the courage of the armed men. They retreat, but not quickly enough.