Darian just grins and wrenches Aladdin’s collar aside, exposing the scar on his bare shoulder. He presses the dagger’s edge against it, until Aladdin winces and blood trickles from beneath the blade.
“I knew who you were the moment I saw this in the baths,” the prince whispers in Aladdin’s ear. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner, but it doesn’t matter now. You’re finished, thief. You’ll be wishing for death before I’m done with you.” He slides a hand down Aladdin’s coat, until he reaches the lump on his hip.
Aladdin swallows.
With a laugh of triumph, Darian pulls Aladdin’s sash, and the lamp comes swinging into plain sight. Curious murmurs rustle through the crowd; they aren’t sure what it is he’s discovered, but they know it must be important by the way Darian shouts excitedly. Aladdin grabs the lamp’s handle, trying to tug it away from the prince. I feel nauseated as once, twice, thrice I am nearly sucked into the lamp, only for Aladdin to regain possession of it.
“Sorcerer!” Darian cries. “Jinn-worshipper!”
The crowd picks up his cry, and the words echo across the room. Caspida angrily intervenes, grabbing Darian and pulling him away. The lamp, still bound to Aladdin, is torn from his grasp, and Aladdin catches it.
“What is this?” she asks, but by the dread in her voice, I think she already knows.
“Yes, thief, what is this?” asks Darian, smirking.
“It’s a custom of my people,” says Aladdin hoarsely. His face is drained of color, but still he tries to maintain his cover. “You know. Symbolizing light and . . . good fortune . . . All Istaryan grooms carry a lamp to their wedding.” He stares challengingly at Darian, daring the prince to announce that Aladdin had stolen the lamp from him, thus condemning them both.
“Liar,” snarls Darian. “You conspired with the jinn to pass yourself off as a prince, when you are nothing but a criminal. And with the jinn’s help, you murdered the king!” Darian pulls a vial from his pocket and holds it up. “This was found in his rooms—a deadly poison called Serpent’s Bite, the selfsame potion that took the life of our king!” He throws a finger toward Aladdin. “Murderer! King-killer!”
Aladdin’s jaw drops open. “The king? I didn’t—”
“Every word this man speaks is a lie!” Darian declares. “He is no prince. This man is a fraud and a criminal! His own parents were traitors, beheaded by my father for stirring up rebellion. He is not Rahzad, prince of Istarya, but Aladdin, a common thief who has plagued our city for years!”
And with that declaration, my glamour hiding Aladdin’s true face shatters and dissipates, revealing his true image. Recognition flares in Caspida’s eyes, and with it, dark anger.
“Aladdin,” she whispers, raising a hand to her temple. She blinks hard, as if unable to understand what she’s seeing. “Can it be?”
He steps forward, a hand raised. “Princess, I can explain—”
“Be silent,” she orders coldly, her gaze icing over. Then, stepping closer, she whispers angrily, “I have never been so humiliated in my life. You have ruined me and killed my father! I thought . . . I thought you a friend. Both of you.” She blinks away a tear, her eyes burning into Aladdin’s. “May you carry the weight of this betrayal to your grave.”
Aladdin shakes his head furiously. “I may be a thief and a liar, but I’m no murderer! I swear it—I did not kill the king! Caspida, please believe me!”
She doesn’t look at him. Defeated, Aladdin turns to me, and I can only smile sadly.
Darian turns and scans the room, his eyes probing, searching. And then they fall on me. His eyes grow wide.
“Of course,” he murmurs. “The pretty servant girl.”
Without another word he turns, drawing a dagger from his belt. He slices through the sash and grabs the lamp. The world seems to spin around me as my bond with Aladdin, which had grown so familiar to me it was like another limb, snaps like a twig. A new bond forms between me and Darian, strong and absolute, threads weaving together and coiling around us both, until our wills are knit into one. He turns to me, his eyes hungry.
“Monster!” he cries, pointing. “Reveal yourself!”
No point in hiding anymore. If it’s a monster they want, then a monster they shall have.
Every eye in the temple suddenly turns to me as I begin to shift, hair, clothes, and even the ring in my hand turning vaporous. It feels almost good to finally shed my human form and burn with all my power before them. Red smoke roils around my feet, growing and swelling to surround me. My eyes are locked with Aladdin’s, and he watches wretchedly as I am unbound, thread by thread. The court gasps and recoils, and Caspida and her handmaidens regard me with repugnance.
Here I am, mortals. Look and tremble, for I am the jinni of the lamp, the daughter of Ambadya, the monster in your midst.