The Stolen Kingdom: An Aladdin Retelling (The Stolen Kingdom Series Book 1)

by Bethany Atazadeh

  “It’s not entirely fair,” Gideon admitted. “But there are ways for the children of men to block some Gifts. Concealing thoughts for instance. You have a strong mind. You can learn.”

  Picking up my stool, I gingerly sat next to him again. I needed to know more. But I found myself leaning away even as I tried to act natural. “Is it... Can you teach me?”

  “You’ve already begun teaching yourself,” he said, taking a bite, only half his attention on me.

  I accepted my coffee, taking a big gulp. I needed to wake up. He wasn’t making sense. “What do you mean?”

  “The mind has many natural defenses. You can train it just as you would train yourself to not think on something—say, a pretty girl when she’s nearby. Or the opposite, train it to think overly long on a subject—such as, say, a particular vendetta.”

  “That’s not training,” I argued, forgetting for a moment my wariness when it came to his kind. “It’s impossible not to think on it—you don’t understand because you don’t know what happened.”

  “Enlighten me,” Gideon said, pausing at his meal for the first time since we’d begun our conversation.

  “I’d rather you bear firsthand witness,” I mumbled. I didn’t want to relive that day. Not again. It had haunted my dreams for months afterward.

  I’d been only fifteen-years-old, but old enough to have been taking care of my siblings for many years already. I was like a second parent to them while papa worked and mama drank.

  When I left my little brother, Reza, with my mother to pick up a bit of extra work, he’d crawled into the street, as Prince Dev paraded through town with three neighboring princesses.

  In his desire to show off for them, he suggested a race. Though the women declined, he took off anyway on his newly broken stallion.

  Some blamed the horse, said it was out of control.

  But I came out just in time to see a hoof crush my little brother’s skull. The agony I felt in that moment had barely faded, even now, nearly five years later. Though I’d only thought of it for a split second, I blinked away tears.

  “Was it an accident?” Gideon asked softly. I cursed myself. Of course he’d eavesdropped on my thoughts.

  “What do you think?” I snapped. Everyone always sided with the prince. How could they not?

  “I want to hear what you think,” he replied, still in that soft, but unyielding tone.

  Against my will, I remembered staring up at Prince Dev’s face that day for the ten-thousandth time. Shock crossed his face for a brief second followed by a look of revulsion, and then a sneer.

  Witnesses gathered at the scene, whispering, but no one came forward to help.

  “Someone clean that up,” the prince commanded his guards, reining his horse around the body, readying to move on.

  That’s when I’d found my voice. Roaring, I raced out into the street, falling to my knees at my dead brother’s side and screaming at the prince, “My brother! That’s my brother!”

  My choked screams roused the crowd, who began to murmur in dissent. For the first time, real concern crossed Prince Dev’s features.

  Naveed, a year younger than me but slightly taller, had stepped out in front of me and my little brother. “You killed him!” he’d shouted at Prince Dev in a strong voice that carried his accusation out to any who may have wondered. “You murdered him!”

  “Silence!” the prince yelled, waving for the guards to move on us. “One week in the stocks!”

  Naveed dodged them easily, screaming insults at Prince Dev through the crowd. “You’re the one who needs to be punished! Murderer!”

  “Arrest him!” Prince Dev screamed, red-faced. He was shaking in fury. They caught Naveed, and I watched through tears as they dragged him out of the crowd.

  “All the Jinni-forsaken luck on your bastard head!” Naveed continued hurling insults even as they hauled him in front of the prince. “May your father and mother despise the day you were born! May they–”

  “Enough!” Prince Dev’s voice cracked as he yelled. “Cut out his tongue!”

  Next came the blood. Days of wondering if my friend would make it. Mourning my baby brother while comforting my other siblings.

  What had Gideon asked? Was it an accident.

  “I don’t know,” I whispered honestly, since he could read my thoughts anyway. “Probably.” My voice cracked a little. “But does it matter?”

  Gideon didn’t answer right away. “You called me to bear witness to a Jinni’s Gift being misused.” His blue eyes seemed especially pale this morning. “I haven’t noticed it in your memories. Does this prince have a Gift?”

  I toyed with my uneaten food, moving it around with my fork to avoid his gaze. “He does,” I said, but my mind betrayed me. He’d never used his Gift that day. He hadn’t even discovered his Gift until after his 18th birthday.

  “Mmm,” Gideon murmured, as if I’d told him more than I’d meant to. I supposed I had. “And what is his Gift?”

  I tried hard to keep my thoughts in check. “He can speak any language,” I mumbled.

  Gideon’s brows rose. “Is that so.” I nodded, but kept my mind blank. “Has this prince ever used his language Gifting for vile purposes?” Gideon probed.

  “That’s what we’re here to find out,” I said, straightening to face him, pushing away from the bar to stand.

  But Gideon stopped me, placing his hand on my arm. His touch wasn’t ice like the stories. It was warm like any other man’s. But I still shivered.

  When he didn’t speak right away, my mind drifted to his last question, but I stopped it and did my best to throw up mental shields like I had before.

  “Very good.” Gideon nodded, just once. “You’re a quick study.”

  I took that to mean I’d successfully kept him out of my mind and felt the tiniest sliver of relief. “Thank you,” I said in response. His hand was still on my arm, though. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “When do I begin bearing witness?” he asked in that calm, quiet tone, releasing me.

  “How does an hours’ time sound?” I asked. Everything in me was focused on that mental wall, keeping him on one side and my thoughts on the other.

  “Very good,” he replied, watching me closely. I bowed quickly and left the room, putting some distance between us before he heard the truth: I didn’t know if Prince Dev had ever abused his Gift. I hoped he had. And I was ready and willing to provoke him into doing so today, if necessary.

  Chapter 28

  Arie

  KADIN HAD THOUGHT ABOUT kissing me for a split second last night. My toes curled at the memory as I lay in bed. It hadn’t been a thought, so much as an emotion, but I’d felt it. I turned the feeling over, examining it. It was different with him. Because for the first time I wanted it too. I sighed at the sun streaming in through the window. All I wanted to do was stay under the covers and go over each moment from the night before, one at a time, savoring them...

  We’d talked until sunset, long past dinner, making our way back as dusk settled over the land. Shadows crossed Kadin’s cheekbones and hooded his eyes. But whenever he looked over at me, he smiled. How could someone who’d been through so much, be so lighthearted?

  He’d had four siblings. And he was the eldest. The way he described growing up, watching the younger children, always looking out for them, feeding them, tucking them into bed at night. And then... how his whole family had died four years ago...

  It made my heart ache for him.

  Though I’d been too afraid to tell him my story, it was impossible not to think what might be happening back home. I told myself for the thousandth time that my father was okay. Amir had no power over him or Hodafez if I wasn’t there. Sooner or later, the king would have to go home.

  This was for the best.

  I rolled over and shut my eyes. Better not to think about it.

  But my conscience wouldn’t let me close the door so easily this time. A little whisper asked, what if I
’m wrong? Each day that worry grew louder, more persistent.

  As tempting as it was to stay with these men and never look back, I couldn’t do that to Baba. I was all he had.

  My chest tightened. I couldn’t go home, and I couldn’t stay. Neither one would do.

  I sighed, climbing out of bed and putting on the red dress Kadin had given me, pulling the brown cloak on over it. Heading downstairs, I focused on the question that plagued me above the rest: how would I convince Gideon to help me?

  Under my cloak, I clutched my small bag. I carried it everywhere I went, now that I had it back. Perhaps between my share in the heist, the jewels, and my crown, I could convince Gideon to travel to Hodafez for just one day... I bit my lip. He was so impatient already; would it be enough? Would he even consider my offer once he had his precious lamp?

  I felt a headache forming even before I entered the common room. Dozens of stranger’s thoughts slipped into my mind uninvited and unwelcome. I loathed this ability. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I struggled to focus as I wove between the tables to find a seat.

  Gideon sat at the breakfast bar on one side of the room, while at least a dozen other guests occupied the tables on the opposite side. Though Gideon sipped his tea with his usual unwavering composure, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was lonely. Traveling so long and often must be isolating. He couldn’t be more than a few years older than myself—or was age deceptive for the Jinn?

  This was my chance. I tried to rehearse what I would say along the way, but the pressure of thoughts following me across the room shoved all rational thought from my mind.

  “You just missed Master Kadin,” he told me when I greeted him. Kadin’s name put a few extra butterflies in my stomach. I sat and accepted a breakfast plate from a server, piled with food, before turning to Gideon.

  “Tell me,” I began as I took a bite. “How long have you been away from home?” The food here was flavorless, but my stomach growled and I continued.

  When he frowned, I paused, feeling guilty. “I apologize, that was insensitive...” Had I already offended him? Why did I have to be so stupid?

  “Not at all,” he said. So formal. He touched the napkin to his lips before folding it in his lap. “I suppose I’m not used to conversation. Most people fear my kind.”

  “I’ve noticed.” I took another bite. “I don’t get it. You seem perfectly nice.”

  A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as Gideon turned back to his food as well, and there was a comfortable silence. “To answer your question,” he began, “I’ve unfortunately lost my ability to return home. I’d prefer not to discuss the circumstances.” I nodded. He sipped his coffee, before continuing, “It’s my hope that the lamp you possess might help me return. I’ve lived among the human kingdoms for the better part of a year now.”

  I slowed in my chewing. He couldn’t go home? We had more in common than I’d realized. Gideon tipped his head once, almost as if in a nod. Had he overheard? I cleared my throat, feeling vulnerable, and said the first thing that came to mind. “Can I ask what brought you to our lands?”

  As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew I was prying. Would he take offense? But Gideon’s expression didn’t change. He lifted his cup to drink again. Only after finishing the glass and setting it down did he answer. “I’ve been... tasked with finding ancient artifacts.”

  “I see. They must... be important?” I wanted this conversation to be over. It’d been a mistake to think I could make my request while in a public place; I couldn’t hear my own thoughts above the noise, much less form an appropriate question. I set down my spoon.

  “Very.” He nodded, carefully folding his napkin and placing it on his plate. “Artifacts all enhance or add to a Jinni’s Gifting.”

  “Enhance...” I had to ask. “You mean it makes Gifts stronger? Or better?”

  “Both.” He turned to face me. “In some cases, they provide a new Gift altogether.”

  “Do the artifacts work on humans too?”

  Gideon didn’t confirm or deny it, only staring at me with those unblinking eyes. Understanding bloomed at the secret I’d just uncovered. I whispered, “They do, don’t they? That’s why it’s not common knowledge. They must be terribly powerful...”

  Could an artifact give a half-Jinni like me some sense of control? Like help me muffle thoughts in a crowd so I didn’t feel like I was losing my mind?

  Gideon turned away without a word, still not denying it, pulled out coins from his pocket to pay for his meal.

  “Even if humans did find the artifacts,” I spoke my thoughts aloud since he could hear them anyway, “they wouldn’t know they had something of such value. And if they did, they wouldn’t know how to work it. I mean, with the lamp, I’m sure it’s not as simple as merely lighting it...” I trailed off, watching him. He paused in the middle of setting some coins on the table before he stood.

  “Or... I suppose it could be that easy...”

  He still didn’t answer.

  “Gideon,” I pushed, standing as well. “What does the lamp do?”

  He only shook his head, picking up his cane and moving toward the door without using it once.

  “I’m not going to light it,” I teased. “But you wouldn’t want to risk my using it by accident, would you?” I followed him out of the room. The pressure of thoughts lifted as we entered the hall. I flashed him one of my most charming smiles. No prince alive had ever resisted.

  Gideon, as otherworldly as he was, was no different. He smiled back at me slightly. “It isn’t a violent Gift,” he admitted, now that we were out of earshot from the others in the common area. “I suppose there’s no harm.”

  I smiled, ducking my eyes for a brief moment, before staring up at him in rapt attention, going for irresistible. “No harm at all,” I encouraged.

  Gideon tucked his cane under his arm, leaning forward to speak, “The lamp is for traveling.” We were conspirators, he and I, and I could tell he wanted someone to confide in. “For a Jinni who can already travel, such as myself, it increases our distance considerably. On my own, I’m not powerful enough to get home, but with the lamp, I could reach the gate to Jinn.”

  My mouth fell open. “That’s incredible,” I whispered. I could see why he would want it so badly. “What would it do for a human?”

  His eyes narrowed and he straightened, shrugging. “I don’t honestly know.” We were no longer accomplices; I’d made him suspicious. “It’s never been tested, to my knowledge.”

  Before I could find the words to appease him, Kadin’s thoughts intruded and he spoke up from the staircase behind me, “Ready to go?”

  I faced him, clenching my teeth at the interruption. His men followed behind him, joining us at the base of the stairs.

  Was it my imagination or had Kadin’s face lit up at the sight of me. When he grinned, I couldn’t help but smile back. Gideon and I nodded at the same time, and as a group, we left the inn.

  At least one of us might get what they desired today.

  It was finally time for Gideon to bear witness.

  Chapter 29

  Kadin

  I’D THOUGHT THROUGH EVERY angle of my plans.

  Except this day.

  I’d avoided this day like a fool. Because I couldn’t allow myself to think about what might happen if we failed.

  Though I loved to visualize Prince Dev suffering, the path from this morning until the hour he faced justice was unclear. I’d let myself hope that any misstep on Prince Dev’s part, related to his Gift or otherwise, would be enough. But it seemed I’d been wrong.

  We strode down the narrow streets in pairs, winding along the side of the mountain, climbing toward the castle ahead of us. Built into the rock, it wasn’t designed for beauty but to be impenetrable, blending seamlessly into the sandstone around it.

  The windows were long, narrow slits that rose high above our heads, too high to scale and too thin for anyone but a child to enter. The enormous arch of
the entrance stretched wide and dark, ready to swallow us.

  The men joked and taunted each other behind me, relaxed enough to include Arie and Gideon. None of them knew how unlikely this plan was to work. Except Naveed.

  My childhood friend walked beside me. I didn’t speak and he didn’t sign; we didn’t need to. Not a day had gone by since we left this place four years ago that we hadn’t thought of it.

  Neither of us had gone home to visit. Naveed’s only family had been mine.

  And mine were gone.

  After my brother’s death, Prince Dev had tried to silence all protests. It was only because Naveed and I had been in hiding, planning our revenge, that I was still alive.

  Glancing over at my friend, he nodded tersely. Even if he still had his voice, he’d never tell them how Prince Dev might not misuse his Gift at all today.

  After speaking with Gideon at breakfast, I’d found Naveed and pulled him aside. “If Prince Dev doesn’t explicitly use his Gift, I don’t know if Gideon will lift a finger.”

  Even if he breaks other laws? Naveed signed. The Jinni were supposed to be such sticklers for the law.

  Lips thinning, I shook my head. “Even then. It has to be related to his Gift. So. Think on ways to make that happen.” There was no way we’d let him go free of consequences for even one more day.

  Grimly, Naveed had nodded, and now here we were, stepping out in confidence, putting on a show for Gideon and the others.

  First and foremost, we needed to gain entrance to the castle. Prince Dev’s father held hearings for his people in the mornings, while the prince held parties that lasted all day. That’s where we would start.

  The homes surrounding the castle were small, tucked away into the rocks, built in layers along the sides of the cliffs, but the castle itself stood on its own, separate and above, strong and spacious. It was a good hike, enough to make you out of breath on arrival.

  Naveed stuck close as we ascended the path to the castle. “Any ideas?” I whispered to him.