The Forbidden Wish Read Online Free PDF Page A

tracing the sensual curve of the long tapered spout.
    Darian sniffs, and his fingers tighten around the lamp. His pulse hammers at me, echoing through the small space. I huddle against the wall and press my hands over my ears. “For something so powerful and priceless, it’s quite an ugly thing, isn’t it?”
    â€œIt’s worthless,” says Aladdin. “Just an empty relic.”
    â€œFor all the good it did you, it might as well be. Let’s see . . . The stories always said . . .” He begins to rub the lamp, and as easily as exhaling I shift to smoke and stream out for the second time this night. My new master lets out a long, appreciative sigh as I swirl into the air, a muted display compared to my first one for Aladdin. I am a little disappointed in the boy of the streets for losing me so quickly.
    I coalesce into a tiger as white as the moon, crouched on the sand before this Darian. He is not much older than Aladdin, but his face, though handsome, is rounder and softer.
    Aladdin is down on one knee before him, his hand pressing his cloak to his shoulder. He has yanked out the arrow, and it lies on the sand beside him. Aladdin’s face is pale, but his eyes burn. He watches me silently.
    â€œTremble, mortal,” I say in a gravelly tiger voice, my eyes flickering away from the old master and to the new. “For I am the jinni of the Lamp—”
    With a wild cry, Aladdin suddenly lunges up and makes a desperate grab for the lamp. Before he can make it, one of the other riders—the archer—swings his bow and clouts Aladdin on the ear, knocking him down again. Quick as a snake, Darian is on him, kicking him in the stomach and then roughly stepping on his injured shoulder. Aladdin hisses and seems to nearly faint, buthangs ruggedly on, trying to grab Darian’s ankle with his other hand. The prince laughs at this feeble effort and kicks him again, this time in the chest. With a grunt, Aladdin curls up and spits blood on the sand.
    I watch like a statue, telling myself it doesn’t matter, that none of this matters, that I can’t do anything anyway. And why should I feel sorry for this boy? I do not know him. I should not care. But I wince as Darian kicks him one last time just for spite.
    He didn’t make the wish.
    They could kill him, but still he didn’t make the death wish.
    Then the prince stands over Aladdin, breathing heavily, his eyes going from me to the injured boy. He leans over, pulling the ring off Aladdin’s finger. He tosses it high before catching it and slipping it into his pocket, and then he spits on Aladdin.
    â€œI’ll take that back, you dirty, thieving bastard.” He grabs Aladdin by his shirtfront and hauls him to his knees. Aladdin’s head lolls on his shoulders, but he manages to glare at the prince.
    â€œWho told you about the ring?” Darian demands. “Why did it work for you and not me?”
    Aladdin only laughs, though it sounds strangled. The fire does not fade from his eyes. Darian pulls a curved dagger from his sash and presses the blade against Aladdin’s throat.
    â€œGo on, then,” Aladdin says through his teeth, his eyes blazing with defiance. “Do it. Get your hands dirty for once. But be careful. Your father’s not here to clean up after you.”
    â€œYou’re not worth another minute of my time. Count yourself lucky, bastard. Nobody steals from me and gets off this easy.” He digs the blade into Aladdin’s neck, drawing blood, and I tense and look away. I have seen thousands of men die, Habiba, but murder always makes me feel cold and hollow. How cruel humans can be.I am sad for this thief. His spirit is strong and wild, but it seems he is lost.
    He doesn’t have to be.
    The thought comes out of nowhere, sounding so much like you I almost believe your ghost is standing behind me. I look back at the thief, struggling against the