ALADDIN WATCHED Jasmine disappear around the curve into the distance. The blade Abbas held was still balanced precariously close to the little boy’s throat. Aladdin had ducked and fled from people like Abbas all his life. He knew how arrogant they were, how they thought their wealth afforded them the right to treat anything and anyone as they pleased. They didn’t see people like Aladdin himself as actual people. Aladdin also knew something else: a man like this was not bluffing. If they didn’t come up with a solution to save Jamaal, Abbas would murder the boy.
Jamaal’s not actually real, Aladdin reminded himself. He’s a figment of Genie’s conjuring. And yet, when he looked at Jamaal now, his green eyes wide, tears trailing his cheeks, the boy felt as real as anyone Aladdin had ever known.
Aladdin studied the winding path Jasmine had taken just a little while earlier and wondered what he could do. He knew what Abbas didn’t know. There were no royal boats from Agrabah docked at the pier. There was no gold. No captain. Jasmine had said what she needed to in order to buy them some more time to figure out a solution, but as the clock ticked and the minutes passed, he wondered what to do before Abbas carried out his threat.
A patch of clouds passed over the moon, concealing it completely. The darkness felt as though it had settled into his own heart as well.
“I must admit it took me a while to figure out what you were up to,” Abbas told Aladdin. “But I get it now. She’s a pretty one, isn’t she?”
“Don’t talk about her,” Aladdin snapped.
“Been trying to figure out what the heck was going on with this ridiculous kingdom. When I first saw the burst of light flickering in the darkness, I thought I was finally losing my mind. And then watching a palace spring up on this godforsaken land out of nowhere…Are you a wizard or something? A genie? Some can be impressed with that sort of thing, that’s for sure. But I know of that girl’s father—he won’t ever approve of her running off with an illusionist like yourself. You’re new money. Can smell it a mile away.” He wrinkled his nose.
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“But still, credit where credit is due. This is indeed quite the dog and pony show you have going on here,” Abbas continued. “And I would wager my family’s entire wealth that she has no idea at all who you really are. But I know. You’re a fake and a fraud. You’re not a prince. You’re a nobody.”
The words landed like rocks in the well of Aladdin’s heart. He swallowed. The man was evil and cruel, but he was right. Except for one thing—Aladdin wasn’t old or new money. He truly was nobody.
“Prince Ali is a hero!” Jamaal shouted. “He was kind to me and helped me and he’s braver than you’ll ever be.”
“Who asked for your input?” Abbas snapped at the boy.
Aladdin felt sick. Abbas was getting in his head.
“You remind me so much of him, you know that?” Abbas told Aladdin. “You and Waleed could have been long-lost brothers. He was also a do-gooder who thought if he just got everyone to like him, he’d be the best or win some kind of a medal. But he was a nobody, too. Even with a crown and parents with blue-blooded lineage, it doesn’t mean anything if you’re weak willed and cowardly. You know everything I’m saying is the truth. I can tell you understand exactly what I’m telling you.” He peered into Aladdin’s eyes. “Are you afraid I’ll point out that inconvenient matter about who you really are to your companion? I don’t need to tell her. If your pretty princess doesn’t see it now, she will. It’s only a matter of time. She is no fool.”
Aladdin looked down at the ground. His head hurt. His chest ached. Abbas was a power-crazed egomaniac.
But he was also right.
Aladdin was no prince. And he was certainly not worthy of a woman as lovely and wonderful and intelligent as Jasmine. Sooner or later the truth about who he really was would come out. There was no way around that.
He looked at the boy in Abbas’s clutches.
The only way to prove himself worthy of a woman like Jasmine was to be worthy of her. Not with a brilliant palace or fancy clothing. Truly worthy. The only way to do that was to go back home and earn his worth fair and square.
He looked out into the darkness; he wondered where Jasmine had gone. If he couldn’t come up with a solution, could she?
JASMINE HAD never run so fast in her life. She raced down the road, perspiration tinging her brow, her insides clenched. But she didn’t stop until she had left the overgrown road behind her, passed the docks with the boats lolling silently in the night, and at last stepped onto the familiar cobblestoned streets of Ababwa. Only then did she let out a gasp and steady herself, but only for a moment. All she had to do was think of the boy, the way his entire body trembled, his hands limp at his sides as the man gripped him by the neck, and she’d push on, past her exhaustion. Jasmine continued until she reached the village square.
Despite the late hour, a handful of people still milled about outside. A few held torches with lit flames while others carried lanterns. When they saw her, they hurried toward her.
“Princess Jasmine! Are you all right?” a man asked.
“Thank you, all of you, for being up so late, for helping us.” Jasmine exhaled. “I need to talk to you all. It’s urgent.”
“We’ve scoured every inch of the kingdom,” a woman said. “There’s no sign of the thief or the carpet you are looking for. But don’t worry, we won’t stop looking.”
“There’s no need for that,” said Jasmine as a crowd gathered around her. “We found the man. He doesn’t have the carpet anymore, but he’s taken Jamaal hostage. He’s got a knife to the boy’s throat and threatens to kill him within the hour.”
The crowd gasped audibly.
“Where is he?” Zaria asked, her jaw clenched. Her gilded cage was cradled against her arm. “I’ll sic my bees on that man. These friends of mine here make good honey, but they also know how to attack like the best of their species.”
“Thank you,” Jasmine said. “The bees may come in handy.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” The bread maker raised his torch. “Let’s go and get him.” Others nodded and murmured in agreement.
“He’s by the cliffside,” Jasmine said. “Ahmed calls it the Phoenix Trio.”
At this, the crowd fell silent.
“Did you say the Phoenix Trio?” a woman finally asked. “But that place is uninhabitable. No one goes out there. Not ever.”
“Perhaps that’s why he fled there; he thought no one would think to go there,” Jasmine said. “But we really must leave at once. We don’t have a moment to lose.”
The townspeople exchanged worried glances.
“Princess,” a man finally said, hesitantly, “we would like to help—we would. And we are sorry for Jamaal. Truly, we are. But none of us knows how to travel to those cliffs.”
“They’re dangerous,” a woman called out. “The water crashing against the cliffs makes the land slippery.”
“And in the dark, it’s all too simple to slip to one’s death.”
“But if we can’t help him, who will? He’s only a child!” Jasmine said, astonished.
