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Strange.
I tried again to light mytaper.
Along came the wind again, knocking over the candle, and it rolled along theground.
I gasped and stepped back. This had never happenedbefore.
For a third time, I attempted to light it, but the match wouldn’t even spark. I went through at least four matchheads. Nothing. Wind buffeted the pack out of my hands. Matches scattered everywhere along thepavement.
My stomach locked tight. Had the djinn just refused my wish? If so, that did not bode well for the task ahead of me. Maybe I should postpone it. But I couldn’t. Ali needed the medicine urgently. I had to do this. With or without the blessing of thedjinn.
As I strode away, I tried to shake some sense into myself. The candle blowing over was nothing more than the wind. Maybe a sandstorm was coming. As for the matches, well, some jerk had left a dud pack that didn’t light. The whole incident didn’t mean I’d land more bad luck than I already had. I mean, shit happened all the time. Ali got sick for one. My neighbor lost all her front teeth. Farhad, a merchant in the market, had a daughter who’d just run off with a shepherd in The Darkwoods. Me thinking I was any worse off was just plainsilly.
Voices drifted on the sweet, night breeze and silenced the rest of myanalysis.
Heart pounding, I pressed my back against thewall.
Karim was picking scraps out of a nearbybin.
“Come here, Karim,” Iwhispered.
At first, he didn’t budge, preferring to fling a banana peel onto the ground. But when I stomped my foot, the little squeaker scuttled over to me. He climbed up me, wrapped his body around my neck, and dug his tiny claws into the side of my head. It hurt like hell, but I bore the pain for the sake ofsilence.
“Pipe down, okay?” This was our signal for silence. It earned me a chipper, which I assumed was hisagreement.
I cocked my head, my ears on full alert, my hand itching to pull out myblade.
Careless, heavy footsteps thumped into the intersection ahead. Firelight flickered, illuminating the courtyard behind which Ihid.
“I hate nightshift,” moaned a gravelly voice. “I should be in bed with mywife.”
Ice stabbed my guts. Sultan guards. If they caught me, my brother was as good as dead, as they would toss me into prison for years for disobeying thecurfew.
“This is the best shift of the lot,” replied a man with a much more laid-back voice. “Better pay. No one to chase orfight.”
That response scored a bunch of grumbles from the otherguard.
Typical, lazy, palacepatrol.
Judging by the fading of their voices and the dimming firelight, they headed down along the adjacent row ofapartments.
The breath I held in rushedout.
“Good boy, Karim.” I scratched his chin and earned a squeak ofappreciation.
I continued at a hurried pace, entering the wealthier section of the city. Here, the grandiosity of homes scaled upward in proximity to the palace. Polished granite houses with immaculate gardens hidden behind stone walls, decked with swimming pools, cabanas, and Arabian horse stables. All the pleasures money couldbuy.
Beyond this, four golden domes atop the palace’s towers sprouted up like mushrooms in a forest. I wondered what it would be like to live inside those walls, with all the ponds, gardens, servants, finest silks, pillows, rugs, and furniture carved from oak. Never having to worry about where your next meal came from. I pictured myself sitting by the pool eating a bowl of grapes while someone fanned me. Ha! As much as I loved that idea, I wasn’t sure I had the stomach for deals, scheming, and arranged marriages. Give me the slums any day over that crap. But I’d certainly take theirmoney.
I climbed a few fences to cut down my travel time and avoid the palace. Too many guards crawling about theplace.
Karim showed his displeasure of one particular property by leaving a little gift for the owner outside theirgarage.
I giggled into my hand. Cheeky littlething.
Based on the position of the moon right above me, about half a rotation of the clock had passed when I reached the desert beyond the walls of Utaara. A barren sea of sand lay before me as far as the eye could see, where few chose to wander, except the Bedouin tribes. Those people did not obey the sultan’s rules and had no honor, raiding other tribes and murdering for territory.Savages.
Not that a thief possessed much more dignity. But pretty soon, I wouldn’t have to worry about my honor. All my crimes would be forgiven in the gods’ eyes when I used my wealth to fund a school and home fororphans.
