She rises, her eyes hard, and I know nothing I can say will sway her. I plummet into despair, unable to move or think or breathe. This is it. Aladdin will die. I’ve killed him as surely I killed you, Habiba.
Caspida walks to the edge of the cliff, the lamp held in front of her. Her face is solemn, almost sorrowful, and I wonder if she has any regret for what she is about to do. I don’t have the will or energy to stop her. I can only stare blankly at the grass as my spirit drains from me.
“Goodbye, Zahra,” says the princess, and she pulls her arm back, preparing to throw the lamp.
“Do it, Princess,” says a voice, “and I will tear your head from your shoulders.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
I’M ON MY FEET IN A TRICE,throwing an arm out protectively across the princess, who lowers the lamp and stares.
Zhian stands just feet away, deceptively calm and well disguised in a human form, tall and darkly handsome, dressed in brilliant red robes that fade to black at the hems. They swirl around him, likely more his own doing than the wind’s. Zhian has always been fond of dramatic entrances.
“Who are you?” Caspida demands, and I can sense the effort she puts into making her voice remain strong.
Without taking my eyes from him, I whisper over my shoulder, “It’s Zhian. The jinn prince.”
She inhales sharply, but doesn’t flinch.
“Why are you here?” I ask Zhian.
He spreads his hands. “I bring good news, Zahra. I have been to Ambadya and back, and am here to tell you that my father is well pleased with you.”
Catching my breath, I feel Caspida’s eyes on me, narrow with suspicion. This isn’t helping my case, to have the King of the Jinn bestowing his favor on me in front of her.
“Well?” I ask softly.
Zhian’s mouth splits into a draconian smile. “He has agreed to grant you your freedom.”
My spirit leaps. I take a half step forward, hardly believing the words. There may be a chance to save Aladdin yet.
“You’re to come with me,” Zhian continues. “Back to Ambadya. You’ll receive your freedom before Nardukha’s throne.”
“No. It has to be here. It has to benow.” I look to the horizon, where a brilliant line of gold burns ever brighter. We have minutes left, maybe seconds, before Aladdin’s sentence is carried out.
“Don’t be ungrateful,” he growls. “Or you might inspire the Shaitan to have a change of heart.”
“He has no heart,” I spit. “Zhian,youmust do it, this moment.”
“You know I can’t. You’re being invitedhome, to freedom and to me!” He scowls, his eyes darkening.
I am pulled in two directions, my soul quailing in the face of the choice in front of me. How long have I waited for this moment, these words? Freedom is mine for the taking—but if I take it, I will lose Aladdin forever.
“I—I can’t go yet. I have business to finish here.”
His gaze flickers to the princess. “Withher?”
I know then that he didn’t overhear our conversation and that he still doesn’t know about Aladdin. I turn slightly to whisper to Caspida, “Princess, I know you don’t trust me, but youmustbelieve me when I tell you this jinni will kill you. You have to make a wish. It’s the only way I can protect you. Take us back to the palace before—”
“What’s wrong with you?” interrupts Zhian, baring his teeth. He steps closer. “Zahra, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. If you won’t come willingly, I’llmakeyou come. Give me the lamp, human!”
He makes a move toward Caspida, and the princess sucks in a breath and steps back, drawing her small blade. This only makes Zhian grin.
“And what will you do with that?” he says. “Prick me? I will crunch your bones and cast you to the ghuls for their sport.”
“No,” I murmur, stepping between them. “You won’t touch her, or the lamp.”
Zhian stiffens, his eyes flashing angrily. He looks from me to the princess, calculating, until at last a dark fury descends on his features.
