Aladdin knew he was right. "Perhaps, but an honest fool."
Kaveh shook his head. "I don't have to watch this." He dissolved into sparkling blue light, which streamed into the ring before the light winked out.
Aladdin peered at his hand. It looked like an ordinary silver ring, but he knew he hadn't imagined Kaveh.
Aladdin tucked the lamp inside his tunic, before tightening his sash to make sure it didn't fall out. He'd come too far to lose it now.
The hike back through the tunnels seemed a lot shorter now. Maybe it was because he was headed for the surface, or he knew where he was going, Aladdin wasn't sure, but there was a spring in his step as he glimpsed the yawning entrance to the cavern he'd dreaded when he first saw it. How wrong he was.
"Do you have it?" Gwandoya asked eagerly, his shadow blocking the light coming from the entrance.
Aladdin dug into his tunic and produced the sorry-looking lamp. "Yes."
Gwandoya beckoned him closer. "Give it to me!"
He wasn't just eager, he seemed...rabid, Aladdin thought uneasily.
"Where is the payment you promised me?" Aladdin demanded.
Gwandoya wet his lips. "It is back in the city. I will pay you on our return."
Back went the lamp into the depths of his clothes. "Then I will keep it a while longer."
"I said give it to me!"
His instincts screamed at him to obey, but Aladdin ignored them. "And I said pay me."
The two men stared at one another, Gwandoya's chest heaving as though it cost him a great deal not to kill Aladdin on the spot.
All the more reason to hang onto the thing the madman wanted, Aladdin told himself.
Gwandoya forced out a smile that didn't touch his eyes. "As you wish, boy. But return my ring."
"Don't do it!" Kaveh's voice whispered.
The smile died. "What did you say?"
Aladdin swallowed. "Of...of course." With shaking hands, he pulled the ring from his finger. "Come and get it."
Gwandoya's eyes blazed. "I will not set foot in that cursed city! Anyone who steals from it is turned to – "
A great rush of wind came from behind Aladdin, so powerful that it pushed the boulder door shut, leaving Gwandoya outside. The man could be heard shouting and hammering outside, but the rock didn't move.
"What in heaven's name..." Aladdin began, risking a glance over his shoulder.
"I said not to give it to him," Kaveh said calmly, pressing his back to the boulder and folding his arms.
Realisation dawned. "You opened all the doors. Even that one. No man could move that stone. Not even Gwandoya, now you're in here with me. What are you?"
"I told you. I'm the servant of the ring," Kaveh said smugly. After a moment, he relented and added, "My previous owner charged me with protecting the city. Only one who wears my ring can open the door from the outside when it is closed, and no outsider may pass through the city gates with gold from the city that does not belong to him."
Dread curdled in Aladdin's belly. "What happened to the ones who tried?"
Kaveh waved his hand behind him. "They made a generous contribution to the city's wealth."
Aladdin approached what appeared to be a line of dusty statues. He lifted his torch and reached to brush the dust off the nearest one's face.
"By all that's holy!" Aladdin jumped back. Bugra's horrified face stared back at him, above a tunic that bulged with the treasures he'd tried to steal. Too heavy for him to carry, Aladdin realised, for they'd cursed him into a gold statue. He swallowed. "What have you done to him?"
Kaveh shrugged. "My master wanted me to just kill them, but who wanted decaying corpses stinking up the city gates? Especially if no one was home. So I thought gold statues might be better. When the prince returns, he can melt them down for the treasury."
"Will that hurt them?" Aladdin asked.
"Of course not. They're dead. Does a chicken feel when you roast its corpse?"
Unbidden, Aladdin's stomach growled even louder this time. "I would much prefer a chicken to a statue," he admitted.
Kaveh clapped his hands. "I can help you there. I know where the prince's store rooms are, where he keeps a lifetime supply of honeyed dates, among other delicacies."
Though he was now trapped in an underground city with a strange man who glowed blue, while another madman hammered on the gates, for the first time since he'd left home, Aladdin began to feel the tiniest bit better about his future. Any future that held honeyed dates had to be good, he was sure of it.
TEN
"Your Highness, the woman is here," the maid said, bowing low. There was a slight emphasis on the word 'woman' that made it sound like an insult.
Maram set down her sewing, already inclined to be grateful to Aladdin's mother. She'd never much liked sewing, but she'd needed to do something with her hands to still her impatience. Now the search was over, she could stop. "Is she alone?"
"Yes, Princess."
Maram fought to hide her disappointment. "See that she is served refreshments while she waits. I will be there directly."
Maram chose her favourite gown, a jewelled thing that impressed even the richest kings, for this audience, and struggled not to tap her foot with impatience as her maids dressed her. Her reflection was quite dazzling to behold, Maram fancied, turning this way and that in front of her mirror. Too dazzling for a woman Aladdin had described as a simple spinner?
Of course it was.
She ordered her maids to bring her the plainest gown she owned. Maram should have known better. They brought her a gown of a purple so deep, it appeared black, with a matching veil. Tiny glass beads sewn onto it only helped complete the illusion, for they were invisible against the black. To the casual observer, she appeared to be in deep mourning, but once light hit the fabric, it glimmered like the starry sky over the desert. It was far from plain, but it would have to do.
When her maids had made sure the veil covered all but her eyes, as befitted a princess at a public audience, Maram headed out of her apartment into the palace proper.
As she approached the room where she'd asked Aladdin's mother to be shown to, she heard raised voices. No, one raised voice – a wailing woman, rising over the softer male voices in the room.
Maram's heart constricted in her chest. Had something happened to Aladdin? No, surely not. She stepped into the room, unnoticed.
A woman in black rose up onto her knees, clutching the hem of a guard's tunic in her white-knuckled hands. "Please, tell me what you have done with my son. He's a good boy, he would not do anything to offend the Sultan. Take me instead!" She collapsed on the floor, sobbing, before she accosted the other guard with a similar plea.
Neither guard seemed to know what to do with the woman, and they both looked relieved to see Maram.
"You may go," Maram said, then surveyed the room. "Where are the refreshments I asked for? See that they are brought here immediately."