The Forbidden Wish

Once his son is gone, Sulifer devotes his full attention to the lamp. He leans against a pillar and turns it over, like a man flirting before going in for a kiss, desire and triumph rolling off him in stifling waves.

“I have you at last,” he sighs. “Let us meet face to face.”

He rubs the lamp, slow and measured. I have no choice but to respond.

I pour from the lamp in a thin stream, spiraling and coiling my way to the floor, where I gather like a fine mist. I shift to cobra and rise, eyes glowering, until I am high as his waist, and then I shift again to girl, scales turning to skin, tail into legs, hood into hair. Black silk studded with diamond flecks drapes over my form, and I feel a weight on my hip, where Aladdin’s ring rests in a hidden pocket. I dress myself with the night and stare at him with eyes as dark and hollow as the spaces between the stars.

“I am the jinni of the lamp,” I intone. “Tell me your wishes three, that I may grant them and be rid of you.”

His eyes feast on me. He takes his time replying, circling me while I stand rigid. As if to prove that I am real, he reaches out and strokes my hair, then trails his fingers down my cheek. I resist the urge to shudder, and when his fingers stray too close, I snap at them with tiger fangs, my teeth closing on empty air.

Quick as a striking snake he slaps me.

The pain is sharp but fades quickly. I shift at once to a black leopard, snarling and crouched. I cannot hurt him, but I spring anyway, all rage and fangs.

I am thrown back at once, before I ever touch him, skidding away across the floor to land in a heap against the wall. I lose my form, shifting to smoke in an effort to shed the pain that comes from the magical rebuff.

“I have read of your kind,” says Sulifer, watching me pitilessly. “I know all about your vile tricks and treachery. Fiend of fire, hear me well: I rule you. Attempt to cross me and you will suffer for it.”

“And I know of you.” Re-forming into a girl, I narrow my eyes at him. “I know what you want. You dream of raising up the great Amulen Empire from the ashes of the past, when your people ruled all the lands from the east to the west. You want to be conqueror and emperor.” I walk to his desk and spread my hands on his map, the parchment crinkling beneath my palms. Sulifer moves to stand behind me, watching with silent intensity.

“When Roshana ruled from the great city of Neruby,” I say, “it was said no man could reach the edge of her dominion if he rode for a year and never stopped. There were more cities in her empire than there are stars in the sky.” I turn to him. “I can give you anything in this world, Vizier. I can deliver you the nations. And I will do it gladly . . . if you’ll only stop Aladdin’s execution.”

He laughs, a small, contained sound, but coming from him it seems the height of hilarity. “You’ll help me whether you like it or not. I believe that’s the whole point of you.”

Bristling, I snatch the map and rip it in two, letting the pieces drift to the floor. “Then you’re a fool! Say your wishes, and let’s see how well they work out for you! I’ve destroyed smarter men than you with their own words.”

His face hardens, put on guard by my threat.

“But if you free Aladdin,” I say more gently, “I will not twist your wishes. I will serve you in both deed and spirit.”

He pulls the chair from the desk and sits, his fingers strumming thoughtfully on his knee as he watches me. I stand, hands spread, waiting for his reply like the condemned awaiting her sentence.

“No,” he says, and he gives me a small smile.

My hands curl into fists, and I grow as heavy as if I were made of marble, rooted to the ground. I can see no mercy, no room for bargaining in his eyes. I have known a thousand and one men like this, Habiba, and I know that he takes pleasure in my pain.

“Then make your wish,” I say in a flat tone, my eyes half lidded.

He leans forward, his gaze fervent. “I wish for all the jinn to bow to me, calling me lord and obeying my every command.”

Holding his breath, he waits, eyes glowing.

I almost want to laugh, but my spirit is still too heavy, so I simply sigh. “I told you I can give you anything in this world. The jinn are not of this world, and so they are not in my power to give.”

Sulifer’s face transforms. He is again the man who beat his son, who watched his niece defy him from her father’s throne. His fury is a swelling wave, dark and deep, rushing like a juggernaut to shore. I can see it getting larger and nearer in his eyes.

And then the wave breaks.

He bursts from his chair, face red. He raises a hand to strike me, but I dance away, shifting to smoke and rendering him powerless to touch me. So instead, he grabs an inkwell from his desk and hurls it against the wall. Black, oily liquid splatters everywhere.

“You cannot subjugate the jinn,” I say, re-forming behind him. “Do you think Nardukha would be so stupid as to let such things happen? You’re hardly the first human to try it, and you won’t be the last.”

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