The Forbidden Wish(67)

We stop a short distance from the tomb. Aladdin watches Caspida, his face unreadable. He’s dressed head to toe in black, his head uncovered. His hair, combed neatly this morning, has been tousled by the driving wind. Khavar and Ensi stand by, rigid and alert. Ensi’s eyes water, but she blinks her tears away.

I hang back until the crowd is focused on the burial ceremony, then slip into the brush and make my way across the hill. Zhian’s jar rattles under my skirt, his endless stream of demands prying at my thoughts.

Set me free! What are you waiting for, you stupid creature!

“You!” cries a sharp voice. “Where are you going?”

I turn and see a veiled Eristrati glowering at me, his grip tightening on his spear.

“Oh, um . . .” I wince and point at the bushes. “I’ll just be a minute. Please. I can’t hold it any longer.”

The man coughs uncomfortably, then nods and mutters something gruff along the lines of “Make it fast.”

Don’t worry. I intend to.

I find a small grassy clearing, not far from the river where I bathed Aladdin’s wound that first, wild night, exactly 142 steps from the lamp. It’s a pretty spot, overlooking the city and the sea beyond, the trees ripe with olives. I’m out of hearing of the jinn charmers, so I lower the silk from my head and let the wind tangle my hair.

Drawing a deep breath, I pull Zhian’s jar from a satchel conjured beneath my skirt. Letting the satchel disintegrate into smoke, I hold the jar in both hands as excitement pounds through me, almost like a heartbeat.

Do it, Zhian urges. Let me out, Zahra. Let me out.

Listen to me first, I demand. There are jinn charmers out here—did you hear them? They are playing, filling the hills with their charms. You must not go near the humans, or we will both end up right back where we started.

We could take them together, he replies. You and I—working as a team. We would be unstoppable!

To that, I only send him an image of the lamp, and he curses. I quickly relay to him the deal I made with Nardukha. Zhian stews in his jar, his impatience hammering through my thoughts.

When I finish, he spits, So do it! Let me out!

I glance around, making sure we’re alone, then lift the jar high before dashing it against a rock. The pottery shatters, as does the charm that held Zhian captive inside.

A burst of smoke fills the air, red and angry. It swells and thunders.

“Quiet!” I hiss. “They’ll come!”

I do not fear mortals!

“Then you’re an idiot. If it weren’t for me, they’d still have you bottled up in their crypts.”

My father would not allow it! Zhian swirls around me, his wind pulling at my hair and my black cloak. Dragon heads materialize in the smoke, snapping and hissing dangerously close to my face. He would burn their city for my sake! He would sink their ships and wreck their walls!

“Well, he didn’t, did he? He sent me. Settle down, because I have one more thing to say.”

Zhian rages about a bit longer, cracking trees and whipping up whirlwinds of dust. Then, at last, he assembles himself, taking the form of an enormous, human-like figure, nine feet tall with hooves and horns. It’s one of his favorite forms, modeled closely after his father. He wears only a leopard-skin loincloth, and his chest swells with muscle and pride. In his hands is a long chain, from which dangles a spiked morning star.

Curl-of-the-Tiger’s-Tail, he purrs, his black eyes glittering. Smoke-on-the-Wind. Girl-Who-Gives-the-Stars-Away. You have chosen a beautiful form. Subtle, but desirable.

Rolling my eyes, I reach out and grab the chain between his hands, pulling him close. “Your father is waiting, so fly up that mountain and through the alomb. Find Nardukha and tell him I have upheld my end of the bargain. Now it is his turn.”

He stares at me, a dangerous light in his eye, and then his gaze travels beyond me, in the direction of the funeral. My hand moves to his muscled forearm, and I squeeze it hard.

“No.”

He sneers, his hand moving quickly to catch mine. He yanks me close, his head bending to look down at me.

“Zahra,” he murmurs, his voice like falling rocks. “Why do you care for these humans? For thousands of years they have enslaved you, forced you to bend and bow to their silly whims. They have mistreated you, abused you, and yet you defend them still?” He drops his morning star to cradle my head in his other hand, and he licks his lips. His fangs flash. “Come with me to Ambadya. Be my bride, as you were always meant to be.”

Revulsion choking my throat, I pull away, slapping him hard across the jaw, but he barely registers the blow. “I’m not anything to you, Zhian. I never will be. You should have abandoned that notion long ago.”