No merchant's daughter would spare him a second glance, Aladdin knew, and nor should any princess, either. If the Sultan did grant him an audience, Aladdin would need to dress like he belonged in the palace. More to ask for. He hoped it would not be too much.
His mother departed for the palace, grumbling as long as she was in sight.
Aladdin slipped back into the house and shut the door. "Kaveh, is my mother correct? Are all djinn evil?"
Kaveh burst from the ring in a flash of blinding blue light. "What have I ever done to you that you call me evil?" he demanded.
Aladdin cast his mind back, trying to recall his mother's exact words. "Maybe not evil. Just traitorous. Are you a traitor?"
Kaveh's dark eyes burned. "There was once a sultan who called me that. Now he was evil, in the worst sense of the word. Half the kingdom wanted him dead, me included. I led the rebellion that brought the palace down on his head, crushing him beneath the stone. His successor, a man who had fanned the flames of our rebellion to white-hot heat, only to reap more benefits from it than anyone else, was my judge. He could not risk another rebellion, he said, so all traitors must be punished. Many of my men were executed, and my family had perished at the old sultan's hands, so I stood alone, the last of all of them. I expected death, but he saw fit to grant me life. A lifetime of servitude, as a servant to the ring, a punishment reserved for magic-wielders who betray their rulers. I believe he meant it as a gift to me, but a warning to everyone else that he would not tolerate treachery, for I had pledged my loyalty to the Sultan before him."
"Who or what do you serve?"
Kaveh let out a weary sigh. "I am the servant of the ring you wear, remember? As long as you wear it, I serve you."
"At what cost to me?"
A new respect dawned in Kaveh's eyes. "You must wear it always, for I will pass to the ring's new owner should you lose it. But other than that...no, I bear the cost of my servitude. The spells I cast come from the magic in my blood, blood I am bound to shed in your service and anyone else who wears the ring."
"What about the djinn of the lamp?"
Kaveh shrugged. "He is bound as I am. If you wish to know his crimes, you must ask him, for I do not know. Both of us are bound to use our magic to serve our masters, and perform whatever magic they wish of us, if we can."
"What can you do?"
"I can move things with magic, or make things unseen. I could carry you through the desert, if you commanded it, or make you invisible, but if you were to ask me to enchant this princess so that she falls deeply in love with you, that is something I cannot do. I have no aptitude for seduction magic."
"And the other djinn?"
Kaveh glared at something over Aladdin's shoulder. "Why don't you ask him? He's been listening to every word we say, but only now does he make an appearance. You should probably consider yourself honoured, for his previous master had to polish his lamp before he'd deign to help him, and even then, his gifts were tainted."
Aladdin turned, and found the second djinn standing behind him. He still towered over them both, but he evidently didn't feel the need to be as impressive as he had yesterday. Did Aladdin imagine it, or was there some sadness behind the djinn's otherwise impassive expression?
"Servant of the lamp, you said you can build me a palace. In the blink of an eye, you said. Is it true?" Aladdin demanded.
"I did not. A palace I can build, but it will take at least a night to truly be worthy of being called a palace."
Aladdin nodded. "Then I wish you to build a palace beside the one where the Sultan resides, yet more magnificent than the Sultan's. It must have...it must have..." He struggled to think of anything he knew a palace should have. He'd never been inside one before. "A bathhouse befitting a princess. Like the ancient one near the city gates. So that Princess Maram may bathe whenever she wishes without having to leave home."
The djinn's eyes widened. "The palace is not for you?"
"I wish that it could be, but no. This palace will be my gift to Princess Maram, to celebrate her marriage."
The djinn bowed low. "It shall be done, master. By dawn, you shall have your palace." He vanished.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say the man is half in love with your princess, too," Kaveh said. "He had a strange look in his eye. I wouldn't trust him if I were you."
"Says one traitor of another," Aladdin returned. Too hastily, perhaps, for he agreed with Kaveh. The nameless djinn had many secrets he had not yet shared to be trusted fully yet, if ever.
Kaveh bowed his head. "I betrayed an evil man, and I do not regret it. I would do it again. But I have served many sultans and princes since, and I have never been tempted to turn traitor again. Sometimes a man must break his own vows to do what is honourable. But the servant of the lamp...I do not know his crime, or who he betrayed. Some traitors dishonour their liege with every breath."
Aladdin nodded. Sage words from a man who by the sound of things had lived far longer than a normal man. Tomorrow, he would have his answer. But in the meantime...
"Can you make sure the palace includes a place for your garden? I would like to see it in all its glory, laid out for the princess."
Kaveh bowed and attempted to imitate the other djinn's tone: "It shall be done, master." He laughed. "Those jewels never looked right underground. By the time I am done, your garden shall sparkle in the sun like the treasure it is. You deserve it, and this princess, too."
Aladdin wanted to believe him, but he didn't dare. Not yet.
NINETEEN
"The Sultan, Your Highness," a maid announced.
Maram dropped her embroidery and rose to her feet. "Father. What an unexpected surprise."
He smiled. "I have something that will surprise even you, I think, for I find it so unbelievable I must show you to be certain I have not imagined it all." He pulled off his jewelled turban and scratched his head, a sure sign that this was no official visit.
Maram ordered refreshments and settled her father in the place of honour before taking her place across from him. "I feel like a child, waiting for a bedtime story," she admitted. "Will you tell your tale, Father?"