“Shefali. Beautiful name, beautiful girl,” the Sultan cooed, appraising Sophie. “My wife had green eyes like yours. We’re separated now. Where are you from?”
Sophie delivered a cold stare. “The land of wishful thinking.”
“Is that in Ooty?” the Sultan asked. He noticed his guards hovering behind. “Leave us,” he commanded sharply.
The guards dispersed. “So tell me, Shefali,” the Sultan asked, shepherding her ahead. “What do you think of my palace?”
Behind him, Sophie could see Reena guiding Agatha, Tedros, and the others out of their hiding spot towards the waiting camels. Reena mouthed at Sophie, pointing at her father’s sash: “Get the compass!”
Sophie sucked in a breath. It was up to her now. Luckily, she’d had experience in dealing with despicable men.
“What do I think of your palace?” Sophie said, turning to the Sultan. “I find it unnecessarily large and overbearing, as if meant to hide a leader’s shortcomings.”
The Sultan blinked at her, his face reddening . . . He burst into laughter. “My, my, a joker too! No wonder my daughter enjoys your company!”
“Wasn’t joking at all, actually,” said Sophie.
The Sultan rambled on. “I shall write to the Queen of Ooty about your charms. Your family should be rewarded! Perhaps we can make arrangements to have you here in the palace, instead of slaving away for the princess. I can show you the world . . . But first, I’ll have to pry you from my daughter’s grubby little hands. Ha! Reena! Reena!” He turned to search for his daughter, about to spot her helping Agatha onto a camel—
Sophie seized the Sultan’s cheeks and swung his face back towards hers. “Have you been poisoned, sir?”
“Poisoned?” said the Sultan, startled.
She pried open his eyelids with her fingers. “Toxins in your iris . . . spots of blood . . . Have you had anything suspicious to eat or drink?”
“Only my usual lamb omelet . . .” He turned ashen. “But it tasted different today. Too salty—”
“Let me look,” Sophie said, poking at his eyes and nostrils with one hand, her other palm moving near his sash. “I see . . . cloudy pupils . . . mottled skin . . . foul breath . . .” She backed away from him. “Not poison, I’m afraid. Something far worse.”
The Sultan gaped at her, scared.
Sophie leered back. “Old age.”
“Come, Shefali,” Reena said, clasping Sophie’s arm intently. “We’ll return to the dungeons and give my brother another crack.”
“Yes, mistress,” said Sophie.
“Wish me luck, Daddy!” Reena piped, towing Sophie from the frowning Sultan.
“Did you get it?” Reena whispered in Sophie’s ear.
“Is your father a dog?” Sophie snapped back.
SOPHIE WOULDN’T HAVE suffered fools for anyone but Agatha.
Agatha, who was out in the desert without her, Arthur’s death warrant on her head.
They needed to find Aladdin’s Cave and use the magic lamp to help Tedros get past the second test without killing Aggie. Sophie had no idea how that was possible, but she’d worry about that once they made it to the Cave of Wishes. She could feel the Sultan’s compass rattling in her pocket as she and Reena hustled up a staircase to the top floor. Reena pushed through a door and pink-and-purple light washed over them, the sunset expanding in all directions along with a dizzying rush of fragrance.
On the roof of the palace, a thin brown boy played a sitar as he paced between rows of lavish magic carpets, which were twitching and peeking at each other like toddlers put down for a nap, while sticks of incense burned soothing chamomile from brass holders.
The boy spotted Reena and beamed brightly—
“Where is he?” Reena gasped, scanning around.
Then Sophie heard a familiar giggle. At the other end of the rooftop, Merlin was being tickled by a magic carpet, the young wizard trying to wrestle it down.
Reena slouched with relief. “Thank you, Jeevan,” she said to the boy.
“The Sultan was planning on trading him to Hamelin for gold,” Jeevan said. “Still a child shortage there after the Pied Piper stole all theirs. Convinced the guards there’d been a mistake; that this very pasty boy was actually my cousin. Luckily they’re too dense to ask questions.” His smile at Reena hadn’t dimmed. “I kept my end of the bargain, then . . . When’s our date?”
Reena must have given something away in her expression because now Jeevan noticed Sophie’s presence.
“Don’t tell me,” he said, smile flattening. “Just got them settled for the night.”
All the carpets heard this and instantly began clamoring for Reena’s attention, waving their tassels at her, jingling with different-pitched bells.
“We’ll need Nightwind,” Reena said, pointing at a midnight-colored carpet in the corner, dusted with silver patterns. “It’s an emergency.”
“Sorry, Princess. Can’t let you on a carpet without a guard,” Jeevan declared, turning stern and official. “Sultan’s orders.”
“What Daddy doesn’t know won’t hurt you,” Reena replied. “Especially when you and I go on our date tomorrow.” She winked at him.
Moments later, Jeevan was helping the girls and Merlin onto Nightwind, the front tassels cuffed around Reena’s wrists, the back tassels around Sophie’s ankles, securing her and Merlin in place. The carpet began to rise into the hot, heavy evening, giving Sophie a view of Shazabah City and the traffic of magic carpets clogging air lanes between buildings.
“Keep it slow, Reena,” said Jeevan. “If you get pulled down for speeding, your dad will take it out of my hide.”
“Very slow,” Reena promised, pulling her hood over her head.
She smiled back at Sophie. “Ready?”
Nightwind rocketed off the roof so hard that it ripped the maid robes right off Sophie, who lost a scream somewhere in her chest. “Choo-choo!” Merlin whooped.
Her fingers went numb around the five-year-old, Sophie just starting to catch her breath, before Nightwind plunged into the mid-city jam, weaving and ducking around the other flyers, who were patiently obeying traffic laws. On behalf of their riders, angry carpets jangled their tassels and bells, which wasn’t very threatening, like a soothing chorus of protest, before Sophie realized they weren’t protesting, but summoning: a fleet of black carpets with bright red tassels that exploded after them, clearly intending to bring Nightwind down.
“Mambas,” Reena murmured.
She showed little fear, however, as if she’d thwarted many a Mamba before, her hands seizing the end of the carpet, navigating it between the tightest swerves and tiniest nooks, crashing through windows and upending two sisters playing with their pet peacock, a stately woman reciting poetry to her book club, and a couple kissing over chicken tagine, all the while Reena losing black Mambas one by one. But there was a last Mamba left, gaining on them, its tassel extending with tentacle-like length, about to snare around Merlin’s neck . . . Reena launched upwards, doing a full 360-degree loop, which sent Sophie’s white dress puffing up like a poisonous fish in terrified response, before Nightwind dropped like a rock, straight into the Mamba, head-driving it, down, down, down and hooking the carpet on a pointy minaret. A few minutes later, they were out of Shazabah City and floating over twilit dunes, with even Nightwind sagging in relief. (“No more choo-choo,” Merlin begged, promptly falling asleep.)