Uma grunted in frustration and motioned for backup.
“Sophie,” said Harry, stepping up to the table from the shadows. “You’re surrounded. There are many of us and only one of you, and you don’t have any magic at your disposal. You’re going to lose. We don’t want to hurt you. But we could.”
She trembled. “I’m not afraid.”
Uma glared at her. “You should be.”
“Okay, so if I tell you where the necklace is, you’ll give me the sorcerer’s hat back,” said Sophie.
“Precisely.” Harry smiled and nonchalantly wiped his hook on the front of his shirt, so she could see how sharp it was.
“I can’t tell you where it is,” said Sophie. “I just can’t.”
“Why not? I’ll give you whatever you desire,” said Uma, trying a different tack.
“How? There’s no magic on the island, and last I checked you’re not Ursula, and I don’t need to sell you my voice for a pair of legs.”
“Not interested in princes, are you?” said Uma.
“Princes are boring. Have you even met Chad Charming? That’s all you need to know,” said Sophie.
“There are other things a girl might want. I don’t need magic to help you,” said Uma. “Tell me, there’s got to be something you need that you can’t have. A way out of your internship? A better apartment down at the Knob? Maybe even another date with Gil? Pirates over princes every time, am I right?”
Sophie shook her head. Uma and Harry exchanged a look and left the table—Uma ostensibly to serve other customers; Harry had no excuse but followed Uma anyway. “She won’t budge,” said Uma.
“You’re losing your touch,” said Harry.
“Oh, stuff it,” said Uma. “You couldn’t get her to spill either.”
Harry shrugged. “The Uma I know could talk the hat off a wizard.”
“If only we had the sorcerer’s hat,” said Uma. “Or if we could come up with something else she wants that I can give her.”
“Or else?” said Harry, holding up his hook with a wicked grin.
“If it comes down to that, yes. But hold on.”
Uma returned to the table empty-handed. “I don’t think you have it,” said Sophie, taking a last sip of her drink and gathering her things.
“Are you sure?” Uma smiled mysteriously.
Sophie hesitated, considering the odds. “I’m pretty sure….” She crossed her arms over her chest and seemed to have come to a decision. “We’re done here,” she said, getting up. “Tell Gil next time he should take me to the Slop Shop instead.”
“Wait, where are you going?” roared Uma.
“Home,” said Sophie. “I don’t need anything from you but the sorcerer’s hat, and you don’t have it.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because. I’ve looked everywhere and so has Professor Yen Sid. If we can’t find it, no one can.” She regarded Uma with hostility. “Just admit you don’t have it already!”
“But I do!” said Uma.
“Prove it!” said Sophie.
“I will!” said Uma hotly, annoyed to be questioned. She stood from the table, her mind racing. Sophie mentioned losing it in a hat shop, which rang a bell….Why? Where had she seen a hat like the sorcerer’s? She knew she’d spotted it somewhere….But where?
Then she remembered.
“Gil!” she said, finding him throwing darts at the poster of King Ben on the wall. “Do you have those hats you bought from the shop the other day?”
“I do!” said Gil with a big smile. “But you said they didn’t look good on me.”
“I don’t need you to wear them, I need you to bring them back here.”
Gil ran off and came back carrying a big sack. “This one?” he said, showing her his white cowboy hat. “Or this one?” He held up a black top hat.
“No, the pointy one,” said Uma impatiently.
Gil reached into the bag once more and before he could say anything, Uma had already grabbed it out of his hand.
Uma ran back to the table, holding the pointy velvet hat aloft. “Is this what you’re looking for?” she asked Sophie triumphantly.
“Where on earth did you find it?” said Sophie, shocked and happy.
“Bought it at the hat shop, of course,” said Uma, dangling the hat with the tips of her fingers and walking dangerously close to the open flame in the center of the room. “Now tell me where Yen Sid is hiding my mother’s necklace. Or I’ll throw it into the fire.”
Since the Great Wall blocked the direct way to the desert kingdom, Ben and Lonnie had to take the jet, despite the short distance of the trip. Ben could see why the people of Agrabah insisted on the flying carpets. Without air rights in the area, they’d have to go completely out of their way to get to Stone City. Once they set foot in Agrabah, they were met with as much fanfare and joy on that side as in the village.
The Sultan’s nephew, the Grand Vizier, awaited them at the bottom of the mountain. While it had been cold and damp in Stone City, Ben found he was already sweating in his regiment coat after a minute in the hot desert sun.
“Welcome, welcome!” said the Grand Vizier, walking toward them with his arms outstretched, the golden bells decorating his elaborately embroidered sandals tinkling with every step. Like the citizens of Northern Wei, residents of Agrabah wore both traditional and modern garb; the Grand Vizier wore a shiny tracksuit and a pair of noise-reducing headphones around his neck. He embraced them warmly and kissed them on both cheeks, in keeping with the native custom.
The Sultan’s people kept watch over the royal jet while the Grand Vizier led them toward a pair of camels for their journey to the palace. The desert kingdom hadn’t changed much from the days when Aladdin prowled the souk in the middle of the city with his pet monkey. The place was buzzing with merchants and tourists haggling with each other, arguing over the prices of spices and rugs.
Ben found the camel ride a bit bumpy, but soon enough they were sitting comfortably on rugs in the Grand Vizier’s great room, while a succession of mouthwatering dishes were presented for their nourishment—lamb tagine with stewed prunes and apricots, great bowls of couscous, eggplant turnovers, and aromatic saffron rice.
“Is this our third lunch?” Lonnie asked, amused at all the feasting the trip had brought.
“I stopped counting,” said Ben, piling his plate high with food from every dish presented in front of him.
“How are things in Stone City?” asked the Grand Vizier, when they had finished eating. “I know you stopped there first. I hope you have time to listen to our side of this sorry tale.”
“I do have time, that’s why I’m here,” said Ben, taking a sip of sweet-smelling tea served in an ornate silver cup. “I understand it’s a question of air rights over the Great Wall in regard to the use of flying carpets.”
“Yes,” said the Grand Vizier, his face darkening. “The Great Wall keeps us out of Stone City, and so the flying carpets are our only means of transport to reach what has always been a trading partner for us.”