THERE HE WAS. The man she had seen when they’d first arrived in the kingdom of Ababwa. The same man who’d surveyed the palace at the council meeting as though he’d wished to devour everything whole. And while she’d known it would be him, seeing him in person and up close—his eyes gleaming, the sinister smile spreading across his face as he watched them from the edge of the cliff—made her insides go cold. His silvery hair flapped across his forehead.
The fire within the glass lantern which had faded seconds earlier now roared back to life, glowing orange and angry in his hand. A knife under his arm glinted against the moonlight. And under his other arm, there it was. Jasmine’s heart sank. Squeezed tightly and rolled up: the magic carpet. It wiggled and squirmed against the man’s impossibly tight grip. She wanted to rush right up to it and yank it away from this horrible man’s arms. But she dared not move a muscle, afraid of the harm he could do before she could so much as take a step.
“Carpet,” Ali shouted out. “We’re going to get you out of this! I promise.”
At the sound of Ali’s voice, the magic carpet squeezed and struggled harder, batting its entire body against the man’s rib cage.
“That is enough of that now,” the man snarled. He jabbed a knee directly into the carpet’s middle. It crumpled on impact.
“Stop hurting it!” Jasmine shouted. She took a step toward the man, but he raised his lantern in warning.
“Come closer and see what else I can do. I’ve been playing nicely so far, but you don’t want to know what I will do when I get angry,” the man said. “Stay right where you are or you will regret it, you have my word.”
“Unhand it, immediately,” said Ali, who seemed to boil over with rage. He clenched his fists. “You let it go this instant and I can be lenient with your sentence.”
“My sentence?” The man barked out a laugh. “I must say, I didn’t take you for a comedian when I first saw you. You’re not in any position to demand or threaten me with anything. Besides, who are you fooling?” The man glowered. “You are no prince.”
Before Ali could respond, the man turned toward Jasmine. “You.” He nodded at her. “I know you. Recognized you as soon as I saw you on that carriage ride, in fact. You look so much like your mother it took me a minute to be certain I was not hallucinating. Now you are true royalty. You are Princess Jasmine of the kingdom of Agrabah, aren’t you?”
Jasmine stared at him. He knew who she was. And yet…who was he?
“A fine distance from your home, aren’t you, Princess?” he asked. “Heard your daddy didn’t like you going so far away alone. Did the locks break to your cage, or did you find the key? Or…”—he narrowed his eyes at Ali—“did this young man here kidnap you? In which case, perhaps this is a doubly rewarding day. Find a magic carpet, rescue a princess, and return her to her kingdom. For a handsome reward, no doubt.”
“I don’t need rescuing or returning,” Jasmine snapped at him.
“Enough with the taunts.” Ali placed his arm protectively around Jasmine. “Who are you and what is it that you want?”
Jasmine felt worry seeping out from Ali’s body like an invisible cloud.
“Thought you’d never ask,” the man said. “Name’s Abbas. And I only want what anyone on this godforsaken land would want. To get the hell out of here.”
He glanced at both Jasmine and Ali and shook his head.
“Look at the two of you. I see the way you look at me. The disgust. The condescension. I was once a great man, I’ll have you know. Wealthy and full of privilege, the world in the palm of my hand.”
“Were you a prince?” Jasmine asked cautiously. She looked at the carpet, still struggling against this man.
“I wasn’t a prince.” His expression darkened. “But what I should have been was a sultan. I could have been. I almost was. I was certainly smarter than Waleed.”
“Sultan Waleed?” Jasmine’s eyes widened. She knew of Sultan Waleed. Everyone did. He was one of the most generous sultans in the world, famous for his kindness and his mercy. And then, her eyes lit up. Of course! There was a story about him in her book of legendary leaders. She strained her memory to remember the story’s specifics.
“Sultan Waleed,” he scoffed. “What makes a man a king anyway? Just who his parents were and where he was born? That man was stupid and weak. I should know better than most; he called me his best friend, after all, and let down his guard around me. Literally and figuratively, which in and of itself underscores just how foolish he was. I’m one of the few people who knew him for what he really was. Ridiculous and utterly unworthy of the crown.”
“So, you’re the one…” She trailed off. She remembered the story now. How he had betrayed his best friend and the sultan of his country for the sake of greed. But this made no sense! What was that man from her book doing here?
“Ah,” the man said as he saw the look of recognition spread across Jasmine’s face. “So you have heard of me, haven’t you?”
“You’re a legend.”
“The wrong sort, I’m sure.” The man frowned. “Alas. There is still time to undo the narrative and get my revenge. Your kingdom of Agrabah was one of the many I reached out to for support all those years ago, you know.” His eyes narrowed. “And one of the many who did not reply to my calls for aid.”
“We had no chance to reply before you burned the palace down,” Jasmine improvised.
“Burned it down?” Abbas repeated. “They always make the man who didn’t win the bad guy in the storybooks, don’t they? To the victor go the prizes and the chance to share their side of the story as the only true tale. That man had a whole powerful kingdom at his beck and call; cascading waterfalls and wealth unimaginable from all the minerals that lay buried within its soil. And that fool didn’t know a thing to do with any of it. I was trying to do a favor for everyone by taking it over and ruling it like it needed to be ruled. Imagine how many people could have benefited if I had mined the gold and silver. And he’s the good one? Hoarding it all and leaving it untouched just because he’s too wealthy to need it? I was only thinking of the common man and what they needed. You all think he’s wise and noble, but I know the real man.” Abbas made a face as he mimicked him. “‘Oh, Abbas, how could you? Think of the trees and the animals. Abbas, I thought we were like brothers.’ How could I what? Try to do what was best for the kingdom? He’ll never admit to it, that sniveling toddler of a man, but he lunged for me first that night. It was only me and him in that room. Only my word against his, but I don’t care what the history books say. I know the truth.”
“That palace was beautiful,” Jasmine murmured. She remembered reading about the architecture years ago. She’d seen the illustrations of its graceful arches and curves. The rose gardens of Sulamandra were world renowned.
“Yes, it was beautiful.” Abbas sighed. And for the first time, she saw a look of genuine nostalgia and sadness spread across his face at the memory. “Now you tell me, why would I want to burn down the palace that was meant to be mine? The one I had practically grown up in alongside the sultan, and was on the brink of claiming for myself? I would have never done such a thing. But we do know who would’ve made such a foolish mistake, don’t we? That’s why he banished me here, you know. By putting me in no-man’s-land, he hoped no one would learn the truth. But an earthquake saved the day and turned the prison into dust a short while ago. Now I must get out of here before the guards return and notice I’m not exactly imprisoned anymore. I will not be here when they come back. I won’t stand for it!” Abbas’s eyes glinted dangerously. He lowered his voice. “But I must give credit where credit is due. They did get one thing right in dumping me on this land. These waters are too treacherous to escape. Made some rafts once I broke free but can’t get any farther than the rock outcroppings out over on the horizon before I’m pummeled back to this godforsaken place. But now”—he smiled down at the carpet, who still tried as hard it could to break free—“now I can finally leave.”
“The carpet isn’t going to take you anywhere.” Ali glowered.
“That’s true, it’s a finicky little thing, isn’t it?” Abbas glanced down at it. “I almost got it off the ground once, but the blasted thing flipped me right over almost immediately. And these boulders are harder than they look, especially when you fall from a bit of a height. Luckily, the hook and wire I stole from the supply shop in town kept it from running away. Scrappy fellow.” He looked almost admiringly at it. “Got to give it that much. Even if it’s going to end up doing exactly what I say sooner or later.”
Jasmine saw the wire dangling on the ground; it snaked up against the carpet, and the metal shaped like a fishing hook sank deep within its body.
“You put a hook inside it?!” Ali cried. “How is it going to fly for you or anyone when you’ve maimed it?”
“Ah, so you suggest I take the hook out, do you? Nice try.” Abbas smiled. “I take the hook out and this thing will head for the hills, so to speak.”
“Keep the hook in and it will never fly for anyone again,” Jasmine said. “It’s a magical being, and it simply can’t work that way.”
“She’s right,” Ali said. “It won’t fly for you. Or me. Or anyone else, for that matter.”
“How about a compromise, then? People say those can be fun. I will unhook it once you tell me how to fly it. It’s been in there for a good while now; a little longer won’t hurt it any more than it already has been. I’d say that’s rather fair.”
“It only answers to Prince Ali,” said Jasmine. “Whatever you say to it won’t work.”
“Can we dispense with the protests and indignation and just accept the situation we’re in?” Abbas rolled his eyes. “How about you go on and tell me what to do? Is there a magic word or something to get it up? A way I’m supposed to hold the carpet?”
