When the sun began to set and the sultana and her other daughters returned, they discovered Zeena was missing. No one worried at first. Danger simply did not visit their island, and Zeena loved finding new hideaways; she would return soon enough. But as night deepened with no trace of her, worry grew. Just as the sultana was about to call for the servants to scour the beaches, she heard a scream.
Her youngest daughter pointed out the window. The sailboat was missing from its dock.
A tear rolled down the sultana’s face. Her eldest had chosen to go beyond the horizon. With no sign of the boat to be seen, there was nothing to be done about it now.
As the months passed with no sign of her, even those who had held on to hope—who thought perhaps Zeena would defy the odds—realized she would not return. And life had grown increasingly difficult on Saravania. The crop disease, once confined to the pomegranate trees, had spread, swift as a fire. The date, fig, and olive trees were destroyed. The grapes, all brown and dried, hung limp from their vines. And the headaches and fevers that once afflicted only a handful of the town’s elders now spread to more and more people. It was as though, with Zeena’s departure, a gray cloud had settled over their small kingdom, never to lift again.
Until the day she returned.
It was her youngest sister who saw her first, the white sail of the family boat a speck in the distance glimmering brighter and brighter as it grew closer. News spread quickly and soon every last person in the kingdom stood upon the shore to watch a miracle unfold. Zeena was back—and not only was she definitively not dead, but her skin was a deep golden brown, her hair was kissed by the sun, and she wore a large smile upon her face.
After embracing her mother and sisters and greeting the townspeople, all of whom were too relieved to see her alive to be angry, she listened to the troubles that had befallen the island in her absence.
But as they spoke, Zeena simply smiled.
“What is there to be happy about?” the sultana asked, unable to hide her irritation.
“I’m sorry, Mother,” Zeena said. “I only smiled because I believe I can help.”
She went to the boat and returned with a sack, drawing from it a packet of seeds—green and so tiny that one had to squint to truly get the measure of them. The townspeople followed her as she sprinkled them over a field of pomegranate trees. She did the same at the next parcel of land, continuing until she had scattered the green seeds on every plot of vegetation.
“What are you doing?” asked a child looking on as she spread the last of them. But before she could reply, the villagers startled, for they could have sworn the trees and plants stood straighter than before.
“The disease on our crops isn’t unique to Saravania,” Zeena explained. “Many other lands have this same affliction. These seeds were discovered to reverse the disease and restore the leaves, stems, and roots to health. And speaking of health”—Zeena turned to the people—“I learned that there are many things on our own island kingdom that contain powers we did not know.”
She showed them how the leaves of the Maza trees that bloomed with pink and yellow flowers around the island, once ground into water, could reduce any fever in seconds. She plucked the roots of the Sigma berry and explained how, when boiled, they could cure any headache.
“There’s more as well,” Zeena promised. “But these will help us to begin to heal what is broken on Saravania.”
“So, the other kingdoms. It isn’t frightening out there?” her younger sister asked her.
“It can be,” Zeena told her. “I have met some awful people during my travels. There was one land where a rich man burned nearly half his kingdom for greed, but there were many more good people—people we have a lot to learn from.”
As the days passed, the crops began to heal. Within weeks the grapevines and the trees of figs, dates, and olives bloomed again, more plentiful than ever. The illnesses, too, began to abate.
“You saved our kingdom,” Zeena’s mother said. “You were brave and intuitive enough to know we needed to look beyond our borders. I was too shortsighted to see. It is you, my child, who should be queen.” The sultana moved to remove her crown, but Zeena interceded.
“I do not wish to be sultana,” Zeena told her mother gently. “Saravania is lucky to have you. I simply wish to continue my work. The world should know how we live; our beautiful artwork deserves wider recognition, and we can learn so much from others.”
From that day forward, with the queen’s blessings, upon a newly built ship and with a small crew, Zeena continued her journeys. She traveled to nearly every kingdom, touched upon every continent, and returned home every few months to share her knowledge and the partnerships she had built and to collect more works from the gifted artisans of the island to sell in the lands beyond. And from then on, the kingdom of Saravania was no longer hidden from the world, but a part of it.
“WE’RE HEADING OUT for a walk around the main city center of Ababwa,” Ali told Omar when they walked back into the foyer.
“Shall I call for the carriage?” Omar asked as the magic carpet zipped over to them.
“No carriage ride. I’d love to walk,” Jasmine said. “It’s the best way to take in the sights, I think.”
The carpet drooped at this.
“Oh, did you want to take us around? Sorry,” she told the carpet gently. “It’s just that we wanted to pop into shops and look around a bit. It’ll be easier on foot, I think.”
“Why don’t you stay here and relax?” Ali said. “We’ll be back soon enough.”
The magic carpet flew over to the foot of the sofa and stretched out on the floor.
Together, Ali and Jasmine stepped out through the palace doors. The guards, standing at attention in their navy and silver regalia, saluted them as they approached and wordlessly parted the wrought iron gates. Turning down the street, Jasmine glanced back at the palace walls. “Is this okay? Us just walking out and about, without any guards for protection?”
“Oh, yeah, guards…” Ali glanced back. “Ababwa is safe. We’ll be okay.”
While the palace was a gaudy display of wealth, there was no denying the charm that bounced off the walls in the streets of Ababwa. And the way the sun hung low in the sky right now and hit the cobblestoned roads, it felt as though the entire town were coated in a marvelous, glittering sheen. Thanks to the sloping terrain of Ababwa, Jasmine could see beyond the roads to the grassy gardens and trees behind them, as well as the curved cliffs in the distance.
“Are those steps carved into the cliff?” Jasmine squinted.
“Maybe.” Ali peered with a hand over his eyes. “I think so. Yes.”
“Never been?”
He shook his head. “It’s not the biggest kingdom, but there are still parts I haven’t explored yet.”
The homes they passed now were modest ones but well-kept, with brilliant red, orange, and patterned curtains covering windows. Some were thrown open to the fresh air, curtains swaying in the breeze.
“It’s quiet out here,” Jasmine observed. “After seeing all the people lined up to greet us when we first arrived, I expected things to be much busier.”
“They’ll probably be out and about in the town square this time of day,” he told her. “It should be just a little further up.”
