Wish Aladdin Retold

by Jade

The djinn roared with laughter. "Oh, she is her mother's daughter. So ruled by passion, she would rather ruin a man than kill him outright. I would prefer a clean death, myself."

  Feeling he was missing something that the djinn deliberately chose not to share, Aladdin told the djinn to hide in the lamp so that he might take him to his new home in the palace. The princess's palace. In four short weeks, it would be his, too. He'd need to find a more suitable place for his mother, as well. The tiny house they'd moved to after his father died had never felt like home, and he owed his mother more than this place. A palace of her own, perhaps, or an apartment in Maram's. He'd ask her when he saw her.

  In the meantime, Aladdin made his way through the city. He'd persuaded Kaveh to find him some more suitable clothes than the embarrassing silk suit he'd worn for his triumphal entry into the city, and Kaveh had provided him with a fine linen tunic with matching turban and trousers. At first glance, they were no different to his normal clothes, but Aladdin could feel the difference. There were coins that jingled in his pockets, too, courtesy of the djinn who'd also filled the treasury in the palace with enough wealth to do him for several lifetimes.

  And all because he'd accepted a job from that madman, Gwandoya. Who could still be trying to recruit men to do his dirty work, Aladdin realised. He had to warn Berk and the others.

  He made his way to the alley where they would normally be, but the alley was empty. Of course, they'd done their day's work in the procession this morning. He hoped Kaveh had paid them well for it. None of them had recognised him in his finery, and he hadn't dared to climb down off his horse once he was on it so that he might speak to them. The beast had proved just as challenging to ride as a camel. Henceforth, Aladdin swore to walk on his own two feet, wherever he went.

  And his feet would lead him back the alley on the morrow, for Berk deserved to know he'd been right about Gwandoya.

  When he arrived at the palace gates, he found a steady stream of servants carrying things from the Sultan's palace to Maram's, before returning for more.

  He found her in a set of apartments overlooking the garden. "Why did you not choose the best bedchamber?" he asked as he entered. "Unless your father plans to move into your palace with you, you will be the highest ranking inhabitant of the house."

  She laughed. "Not so. You're royalty, too, remember – I left the best apartment for you. Though I hope to be invited in there often. Every night, in fact."

  Her kiss didn't take him by surprise, but it seemed to melt things inside him that had no business melting. "Princess, this palace is yours, and you are free to go wherever you wish."

  "What about in here?" She slid a hand under his tunic, then frowned as she encountered something hard. "What is this?"

  Not what she had hoped for, certainly. Aladdin pried the lamp from her fingers. "It is...a lucky talisman, that has protected my house and now will protect yours. I'll just put it in the entry hall..." He found a suitable alcove high on the wall, and tucked the lamp into the back of it. "There. Now you will be safe." Oh, how fervently he hoped that would be the case.

  "Now, you can invite me to your chamber," Maram said.

  More than anything, he wanted to do just that. To take this beautiful woman and anything she offered.

  "Not yet. It would be dishonourable to do so before we are married," Aladdin said with considerable regret.

  She laughed. "I am not some blushing virgin, as you well know. We are promised, and I know you are a man of your word. I promise our nights together will be the greatest pleasure you have ever known."

  Aladdin swallowed. Every word was the truth, and yet...

  "You may not be a virgin, but I am, and I fear my clumsiness will make you wish to break your promise. I am not worthy of you. Not yet."

  Her eyes mesmerised him like never before. "What if I told you I knew a spell that could guarantee when you make love to the woman of your heart's desire, she will know nothing but pleasure at your touch?"

  His mouth was too dry to speak. He tried twice before he had to clear his throat to get the words out. "Keep your spell for our wedding night, for you will need it then. Please, Princess."

  She stared at him for a long time, then nodded. "All right. If you wish. I have never had to wait for a man before and I find I do not like it. However, I believe you will be worth the wait, so I shall."

  If Aladdin looked at her for any longer, he would be lost in her eyes, and he would agree to anything she desired, for he desired it, too. He bade her a hasty farewell and hurried out before he could surrender to her.

  It was a long walk home, but he noticed little of it, for his thoughts were filled with Maram, and their future nights together. The desert heat was cold in comparison.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  For two days, Aladdin did not visit her, and it drove Maram mad. She'd seen him again, and kissed him. She'd kissed him so many times he heated her blood near to boiling, and still he resisted her. Not even their betrothal was enough to bring him to her bed. If she didn't know better, she'd swear the man had seduction magic of his own, but she'd never met a man so frightened of intimacy before. Clumsy, indeed. She'd known clumsy, and he wasn't. His every kiss was perfect – making love to him would be even more perfect.

  Yet still he did not come, and it was her turn to fear. Had she driven him away with her persistence? Or did he have other matters to attend to? For she knew he was no prince, not truly, so his money must come from somewhere. When she saw him next, she would ask about it, and this time, she would not rest until she had her answer.

  Darkness crept over the city on the second day, dulling her spirits until Maram had scarcely any appetite for her evening meal.

  A cacophony of banging and shouting sounded outside, and Maram sent a maid to find out what was going on.

  Another maid came skidding into the room, wide-eyed. "Your Highness, he's here!"

  So Aladdin surprised her servants, did he? "Send him in," Maram said, calling for a second place to be set at her table for her soon-to-be husband.

  The first one returned, laughing. "There is a madman outside, rattling a great bundle of new lamps all tied together, offering to trade new lamps for old. There is an old lamp in the entrance hall. I found it while I was cleaning. Shall I take it to him and see if he will truly trade it, as he says?"

  Maram no longer cared about whatever was going on outside. "Fine, fine," she said vaguely, combing her fingers through her hair. Did she have time to summon a servant with a comb to do a proper job? She had not expected Aladdin to come so late, and she did not want him to find her looking anything but her best.

  "What is this I hear that you are to marry some prince? You are promised to me!"

  Hasan burst into the room, his eyes as wild as any madman outside.

  Maram cautiously rose to her feet, so that she might run if she needed to. "My father, the Sultan, controls my fate, as he rules over us all," she said slowly. There were no guards in her private chambers. Her only weapon was a small eating dagger, and even that lay on the table where she'd left it.

  "You're mine! Mine!" Hasan spat, striding forward.

  Maram scuttled back, hoping she had judged the entrance to the gardens right. Once she reached the darkness, she could turn and run, and perhaps hide.

  Her back hit the wall. Oh, by all that was holy, she had the worst luck. Maram edged to her left, closer to Hasan, but also closer to freedom.

  Not close enough. His meaty hands closed around her throat and choked off her air.

  "You belong to me, not some foreign prince!"

  Colour leached away from Maram's vision as she struggled to breathe. Hasan would kill her after all and she and Aladdin would never...she'd never...

  "You dare to steal from me!" a new voice roared.

  Hasan threw her to the floor, knocking the remaining breath from her lungs. Maram coughed and gasped and fought to stay conscious. She had to get to the knife...

  "She is my bride, and no one else's!" Ha
san shouted back, storming back the way he'd come.

  Maram dragged herself across the floor and snatched the knife from the table. Thus armed, she subsided on the tiles, too exhausted to move any more just yet.

  But she had to. Had to get up, be ready to run or defend herself, because if she didn't, Hasan would kill her for sure.

  She drew in a great gulp of air, then another, and the second was somehow tainted with smoke. Fire. Faintly, she could hear her servants screaming, and the sound of running feet as they escaped the blaze now filling her palace with smoke.

  She coughed, hard, tears blurring her vision. Maram grabbed the table and hauled herself into a sitting position, still coughing as the smoke grew too thick for her to see.

  She must have hit her head, she decided, because she couldn't be seeing what she thought was before her. The smoke coalesced into a giant, blue man, who faced off against Hasan as though the two were about to fight.

  "Kill the miserable thief. No one steals from Gwandoya!" the unfamiliar male voice said.

  Maram blinked, her vision clearing just in time to see the blue man clasp his hands together and bring them down on Hasan's head. Hasan's head burst like an overripe melon, bits of flesh splattering on the tiles, before his headless body collapsed amid the gore.

  "Oh my God," Maram breathed, then clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the scream that would not be silenced. The blue man had killed him, squashed him like an insect, all over her floor...

  And she was next.

  With a squeak, Maram leaped to her feet and bolted into the garden. She sank to her knees behind a shrub and hoped the shadows hid her from the blue man's sight.

  Moments passed, and no one gave chase. She dared to breathe again.

  "Servant of the lamp, I command you to take this palace and everyone in it, and carry it to my homeland," the unfamiliar man ordered.

  "As you wish, master," boomed a voice that could only belong to the blue giant.

  Then the ground shook beneath Maram as though the palace had been hoisted on the back of a giant camel. She lost her balance, slamming her head against a tree, and darkness swallowed her whole.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Getting measured up by another man while wearing little more than a loincloth was a new sensation to Aladdin, and he wasn't sure he particularly liked it, but Maram would expect him to wear nice clothes to their wedding, and probably afterwards, too, so he resigned himself to getting used to spending more time at the tailor shop. Besides, wishing for clothes from the djinn seemed even stranger, for Aladdin had no idea where the clothing came from. He hoped the djinn used magic to create it, but what if he stole it from someone? The Sultan or some other rich man might not notice a few missing tunics, but if he'd taken things from a merchant or tailor, that made Aladdin himself little better than a common thief. The two djinn had given him riches enough that he could afford to buy such things, so he should do so.

  Not to mention he was certain the tradesmen and merchants who had been his father's friends before he died had provided charity to himself and his mother – a kindness he needed to repay. So if he'd ordered more tunics than he normally wore in a year...so what? He had the coin, and they wanted the business. He hadn't ordered anything but his wedding clothes made in silk, though, remembering the indecent way it had clung to him, especially when his desire for Maram had made him lose control. It would not happen again on their wedding day, he swore – he would be the picture of modest decorum.

  Though he was finding it increasingly hard to stay away from her, in every sense of the word. He might not have shared her bed yet, but she certainly shared his – dominating his dreams every night. Aladdin knew he would pay her a visit today, and this time, he wasn't sure he could refuse her invitation to stay the night. Maram was intoxicating, in all the best ways.

  Perhaps he would bring her a gift. He stopped in the bazaar to examine the caged birds, wondering which one she'd like. The jewelled garden would be better with some life in it. He wanted to get her a bird that would sing beautifully, but the only sound any of them seemed to want to make was a distressed peeping right now.

  A streak of gold shot between the cages and pounced on a loose thread that hung from the hem of his tunic. A cat – the tiniest he'd ever seen. Aladdin caught the kitten and held it up to better inspect it. The little creature batted at his turban until a fold came loose, then sank its needle-like teeth into the corner.

  "How much for this ferocious beast?" Aladdin asked the merchant who owned the menagerie.

  "If you can keep the little menace from killing my exotic birds, you may have it as a gift," the man said. "I keep the mother for the mice, but she has so many babies, I fear the city will soon be overrun."

  Aladdin tossed him a coin anyway, then tucked the kitten inside his tunic, where it promptly curled up and went to sleep.

  Now he had to go to see Maram – before her present woke up and clawed through his clothes. Unable to wipe the grin from his face, Aladdin set off for the palace.

  "Stop! Are you Prince Aladdin?" a voice demanded.

  It was on the tip of his tongue to tell the truth and deny it, but Aladdin knew he had little to fear from the Sultan's guards now. Why, he would soon marry the man's daughter.

  "I am he," he said grandly.

  Two guards took his arms. "Then you must come with us. The Sultan commands it." They marched him the shortest way to the Sultan's palace, away from Maram.

  Aladdin sighed. She would understand, surely.

  The guards released him without warning, dropping him on the tiles of the Sultan's audience chamber. Instead of getting up, Aladdin merely bowed deeply. "How may I serve Your Majesty?"

  "You can tell me where my daughter and her palace are!"

  Aladdin wanted to laugh, but he restrained himself. "Her palace is beside your own, and no doubt Her Highness Princess Maram is inside it."

  The Sultan made an exasperated sound. "Show him!"

  Aladdin's guards hauled him to his feet and half carried him out of the hall to the gates of his palace. Or where the gates of his palace should be. Where the palace had stood only yesterday, now there was only bare earth, compressed under the weight of the absent palace.

  One of the djinn had turned it invisible, Aladdin decided, reaching for the gate he knew had to be there. But his fingers closed around nothing but air.

  He didn't resist as the guards dragged him back to the Sultan and left him on the floor.

  "Her servants tell hysterical tales of giants and magicians and blazes that smoke and do not burn. Complete nonsense, for something has driven them all mad and made them run from my daughter's service. But they all agree on one thing: she was in the palace when they left, and now there is no sign of the princess or her palace. Tell me where they are!" the Sultan demanded.

  Aladdin raised his head. "I do not know."

  "Tell me, or I shall instruct my guards to cut off your head. Last night, I bade good night to my daughter in that very palace you caused to be built overnight. Today, the palace is gone. My daughter is gone. And so is the Vizier's son, Hasan. No one else can tell my how a palace can appear in a night – and disappear just as quickly. Can you?"

  "Magic," Aladdin croaked. He swallowed, attempting to moisten his suddenly dry throat, then said it again. "No one could do such a thing without magic."

  Was Hasan some sort of magician, who'd somehow stolen both the palace and Maram? If he had, Aladdin had to find her. The palace didn't matter, but Maram...she could not be left to the mercies of the man who had none.

  "Are you a magician?" the Sultan thundered.

  "No," Aladdin admitted.

  "Do you know what the punishment is for stealing from your sovereign?"

  Aladdin did not, but he was sure he wouldn't like it. "Your Majesty, I have stolen nothing from you. In fact, I am as incensed as you. Someone has stolen my palace and the woman I love. I ask for your leave to hunt down this thief, so that I may bring him to justice. Give m
e a month, and if I cannot find him, you may do as you wish with me."

  "Why should I trust you? If I release you now, what assurance do I have that you will return in a month, or at all?"

  Aladdin met the Sultan's eyes steadily. "Because, Your Majesty, if I do not find her in that time, then I fear Princess Maram will be dead, and I will beg you to die so that I might join her."

  The Sultan was silent for a long moment before he finally said, "Very well. But if you fail to return my daughter to me, you will not need to beg. Your death will be painful, I promise you."

  "Thank you, Your Majesty." The words came out of his mouth, but Aladdin's thoughts were not in the Sultan's palace at all. Instead, they were with Maram, wherever she might be. He prayed Hasan had not hurt her yet, and that Aladdin would be in time to save her from him.

  He had to be.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Maram woke in her own bed, her head throbbing as though she'd attended one of those all-night feasts the northern kingdoms loved so much. The ones where wine flowed like water.

  But if she had attended such a feast, there would be a naked man in her bed, and she would be wearing a lot less than she was now. Instead, she was alone, wearing the same clothes she'd worn yesterday. All she was missing was her shoes.

  She rose and called for her servants, but received no answer. In fact, the palace was strangely quiet, as though she was alone, yet she could see daylight filtering through the windows. Her staff were never lazy – they would not be abed at this hour. One of her maids should have woken her hours ago.

  Something was terribly wrong.

  Maram crept out into the garden, which sparkled in the sun as though nothing had changed. She knew otherwise, though, touching her head where it hurt most. She'd hit her head on a tree. This morning, the trunk was marked with a streak of blood that had blackened in the sun. Maram had not imagined the events of last night.

  That meant Hasan was...Hasan was...

  She swallowed and squared her shoulders. She had to see it again to be sure.