“Even Khavar?” I suppress a laugh. “Thank you, Caspida, but no. For four thousand years, my existence has revolved around granting the wishes of my masters. My identity has always been built on the desires of others.”
She smiles and accedes with a nod. “And now you want to grant your own wishes.”
I shrug. “I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
“Then I will not try to persuade you further. You’ve earned it, Habiba.”
Startled, I suck in air sharply. “What did you call me?”
Her brow wrinkles. “Habiba. It’s an old word that means dear friend.”
“I—I know. Sorry, I just . . . Anyway. Yes, I’d like to make a few wishes of my own.”
“Starting with?” She leans in curiously.
“I want . . . it’s silly.”
“I promise I won’t laugh.”
I sigh. “I want to go to the vineyards in Ashori and eat grapes.”
“Oh.” She squints a bit. “Well, that sounds nice.”
“There’s nothing in the world sweeter than an Ashori grape. If the vineyards are still there. If Ashori is still there. It might have sunk into the sea or been burned by pirates or—”
“Zahra.” Caspida puts her hands on my shoulders and smiles. “Go to Ashori. Take Aladdin with you. Gods know he hates being a bureaucrat. He’s been getting twitchy in the meetings, making everyone edgy.”
I nod slowly. “I will.”
“I’ll give you everything you need for your journey. You have my blessing and my thanks. Oh, and I nearly forgot.” She fishes in her pocket a moment, then pulls something out. “We found this when we cleaned out Sulifer’s rooms. I think you should have it.”
It’s the ring, the one Aladdin used to find me in the cave. I take it and gaze silently at the scorch marks on the surface, and the symbols blurred by time and fire. A ring forged with love and Ambadyan flame, impressed with symbols forever uniting two souls, no matter what centuries came between them. I wonder who found it on that mountaintop, lying beside your cold body, and placed it in the Watchmaidens’ vault, where it sat five hundred years, waiting for a certain thief.
“Nardukha told Sulifer that the ring would lead to me,” I say. “But how did the Shaitan know?”
Caspida raises her eyebrows. “The ring has its own legend, you know. The Amulen scholars studied it and found that it was imbued with jinn magic. The Watchmaidens took it into safekeeping, trying to hide its existence, but stories of the ring leaked out. Some believed it was the handle of the lamp, that it had broken off during the battle. Others believed Roshana had it made for the jinni, or vice versa. Through the centuries, the ring has always been linked to the queen’s jinni—to you, I should say. But no one knew how it worked.”
I slide the ring onto my finger, and it fits as perfectly as it ever did. Half-truths and lies guided it through the years, somehow bringing Aladdin to me. It is not just jinn magic that hums in the gold, but something deeper and older.
“Thank you, Caspida.”
She nods. “You will always be welcome here, Zahra of the Lamp. Imohel guide you.”
“And you, O Queen.” I turn to go, but Caspida stops me with a brush of her fingers. When I turn back, her eyes are solemn.
“You’ve ruled before,” she says. “So tell me, does it get easier?”
“No,” I reply. “But you get stronger.”
? ? ?
“I’m so happy,” says Aladdin, “I could kiss you. In fact, I think I will.”
“Not now, you fool, the queen is waving.”
He sighs and genially leans over the ship rail to wave. The crowd is small, but everyone there matters: Caspida and the Watchmaidens, Captain Pasha and several Eristrati, and various nobles and bureaucrats. Even Dal and a few of Aladdin’s old friends from the Rings.
It isn’t long before we pull around the head of the cliffs and into the open sea, leaving them all behind in the misty morning gloom. The salty sea spray and pitching of the deck make me uneasy, and I hold tightly to Aladdin.
He’s laughing, of course. “It’s just like our old voyaging days, eh?”
“I’m surprised you remember much of them,” I reply. “You spent most of the time leaning over the rail.”
“I did? Ha. You’re hilarious. Come and kiss me.”
I do, and the now-familiar warmth of his lips steadies me. He tastes of salt and the wine we shared with the others at our small farewell party.
Aladdin pulls away first and lifts one of my hands to his lips, kissing the delicate henna patterns on my skin, then turning my arm over to kiss the inside of my wrist. The ship’s crew makes themselves busy on the other side of the ship, giving us privacy.
“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world,” Aladdin murmurs. “Have I ever told you that?”
“Enough to make me wonder if your father was a parrot.”
He laughs. “Look, we can see the sunrise from the stern.”
Taking my hand tightly in his, he leads me at a run across the deck, both of us wobbling and stumbling from the roll of the waves. We are laughing and out of breath when we reach the stern, just as the sun begins to peek over the far horizon. The mist on the water catches the light and begins to glow soft and gold, until it seems we are sailing across a sea of clouds.