“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.
Up I rise, borne on a cloud of scarlet smoke. I burn with fury and channel my anger through my shape-shifting magic, red lights flashing in my smoke, my eyes glowing like coals, my skin turning translucent to reveal the fire raging inside me. I am a creature of nightmare and shadow.
Shouts of fear ring out, and the nobles stumble over one another to escape the temple. Sulifer calls for his soldiers.
“Seize him!”
The soldiers run to Aladdin, as Pasha and his men fall aside to create a protective perimeter around Caspida, who already stands surrounded by her handmaidens. The girls look up at me with rage and disgust, and brightest of all is Caspida’s quiet, controlled anger, her eyes wounded by betrayal. And it seems it is not Caspida at all who stands before me, but you, Habiba, on the mountaintop, as your death came to swallow you. Their gazes all pierce deeper than they can know, and I realize how stupid I was to ever think them friends. I should have known better than to open myself to such inevitable pain. When did I forget to stay aloof and unattached? When did I let my armor soften, leaving me vulnerable? This is what I get for playing human.
The soldiers approach Aladdin warily, their lances down and angled at his chest. The thief stands still, his gaze still on me, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice lost amid the screams and shouts, unheard by all but me. He alone can meet my eyes without disgust or fear. He alone still sees the girl inside the monster. But it is not enough.
I hurl myself at the soldiers, whirling around him in a long coil of red smoke, driving the soldiers back. Darian stands gaping, half afraid, half delighted with my display.
“Run!” I say to Aladdin, my voice like the wind, rushing around him, tugging at his cloak. “Go now!”
He bursts into motion but runs toward the soldiers instead of away from them. He reaches Darian, catching him in a wild tackle. Both boys roll down the stairs and land roughly, each with a hand on my lamp. They struggle to wrench it free, Aladdin pinning Darian down and getting in one solid punch to the prince’s face before the soldiers are on him. They drag him off, and Darian scrambles away, the lamp clutched in his hands. Still Aladdin fights on, wrenching a lance away and wielding it with sharp efficiency, driving the butt into one man’s stomach, using the tip to sweep another’s feet out from under him. But their numbers overwhelm him, and when his lance breaks, they pounce, twisting his arms behind him and forcing him to his knees.
Furiously I condense into half tiger, half smoke and fling myself at Darian, claws and fangs bared and glinting, but he holds up the lamp, grinning madly.
“Jinni!” he cries. “I command you to return to your vessel!”
Like a dog that has reached the end of its tether, I am halted in the air as the lamp takes control and pulls me toward itself. Helpless, I shift entirely to smoke and pour inside, as Aladdin calls my name.
I rage inside the lamp, throwing myself against the walls, shifting in a blinding flurry from smoke to water to sand to fire. It’s pointless. Outside the lamp, I sense Aladdin’s pain as the soldiers beat him with the butts of their lances. I sense Caspida’s raging fury at being betrayed. I sense Darian’s elation through the drumbeat of the pulse in his fingers, the lamp ringing out in time with his heart.
“Take him below,” Sulifer commands. “He will die a traitor’s death at dawn.”
No! Horror washes over me like a wave. I hear Aladdin grunt as he’s hauled to his feet, and push my senses as far as they will go, feeling Caspida’s steps as she descends from the dais.
“Caspida,” Aladdin croaks. “I can explain—”
“Silence,” she says coldly.
I follow Aladdin for as long as I can, but too soon he is dragged beyond my senses and lost to me. Despair churns inside me like nausea, and I curl into smoke on the floor of the lamp. Where is Nardukha now, when I need my freedom most? Why has he not come? Have I been played for a fool? I knew I should not have taken his deal. I knew he couldn’t be trusted.
“I must withdraw for a while,” says Caspida, her voice starting to break. “I have much to think about.”
She and her Watchmaidens turn to go, heading for the back door of the temple, but Sulifer’s voice stops them short.
“I’m afraid I cannot let you go, Your Highness,” he says.
Caspida turns. I can hear the astonishment in her voice. “What did you say?”
“Guards,” says Sulifer softly, “arrest the princess.”
“What is the meaning of this?” Caspida cries.
Sulifer’s voice is hard as steel. “Princess Caspida, you stand accused of complicity with sorcery and communion with demons.”
“This is absurd!”
“Did you not receive the jinni Zahra to your chambers several weeks ago?”
“That proves nothing.” I can hear Caspida’s composure fracturing like ice beneath a hammer. “I did not know her true nature. I knew nothing of—”
“That will be determined by the judges.”
“The judges!” She laughs acidly. “The judges are your leashed dogs, trained to tear apart whomever you point out.”
“Imprison her,” says Sulifer. “And her handmaidens too.”
I sense the soldiers moving toward the girls, but they never reach them. Nessa and Khavar slice through their midst like a sharp and deadly breeze, while Ensi flings poisoned powder in a glittering arc. Soldiers fall, clutching their throats and chests, as the girls’ attack parts them like a scythe through dry grass. Caspida spins free of the soldiers holding her, felling them both with a series of strikes, her bare hands slipping past their defenses to decimate their nerve points, leaving them twitching on the ground. Before Sulifer, Darian, or the remaining guards can make a move, the girls vanish, running from the temple and disappearing into the palace.