Chapter 9

She stopped at a small village before arriving in Agrabah to bathe and obtain new clothes to cover her injured skin. Her messy hair and shoddy appearance made it easy enough to conceal her identity from the residents of the town. After cleaning up, she covered her face with a veil and rode on toward home. Her skin felt hotter than the sun, but she was shivering beneath her new cloak; it hadn't taken long for her to get sick. She would try to pass it off as a result of overwork when Aladdin asked, but she still had to figure out how to explain the absence of her entourage.

She took a back route into the city that was seldom used. The guards at the border were puzzled at her unexpected appearance but did not question her. Fortunately, she didn't see Aladdin before she arrived at the palace.

She got down to business right away, checking the meeting rooms to find her advisors. She was surprised to find Aladdin dozing in one of the rooms, his face smeared with ink from the blueprints spread across the table. With a fond smile she began to close the door, but he woke up at the slightest creak of the hinges.

"Hey," he said groggily. "Did you just get back?"

"Yeah." She stifled a laugh at the sight of the ink patterns on his cheek. "You've been busy, I guess."

"Busy can't begin to describe it," he said wearily. "How do you do it, Jasmine? Take care of all this governance stuff, and still manage to look so beautiful every day?"

"I only started last week," she replied. She hesitated before deciding to sit down beside him. It wasn't as awkward as she thought it would be. As long as she kept her mind off what had happened, the conversation would be fine. "I'll start looking ugly pretty soon, though."

"I'm going to have to marry an ugly woman?" he said, frowning. "Oh well, I always close my eyes when I kiss you anyway."

Despite his tired state, he was still quick enough to avoid her slap. He laughed and caught her chin in his hand, drawing her in for a kiss. She tensed instinctively, and he must have sensed it right before their lips met. He gave her a curious look.

"Something wrong?"

She inwardly berated herself for freezing up, even for a second.

"Bad breath," she said randomly. "Not you. Me. I've been traveling since morning without much to eat."

"Great, my future wife has bad breath issues too," he sighed. "What a miserable sultan I'm going to be."

"So what have you been doing?" she asked, perhaps too quickly. "You must have gotten a lot done, given how tired you are."

"Yeah, a lot has been done." She could hear the uncertainty in his voice. "This is what the construction teams have started working on so far."

He showed her the blueprints on the table, copies of what they had drawn out the day before she had left for Desrial. They had been heavily marked with Aladdin's messy handwriting. The nobles scorned him for his low level of literacy, but she was still amazed that he had taught himself that much without ever entering a classroom.

But she grew more disappointed as he finished explaining the progress—or lack thereof—that he had managed while she was gone. At the look on her face, he was immediately defensive.

"Come on Jasmine, I'm new at this. I made some mistakes, but it's okay. We can have Genie fix them and make up for lost time."

"It's okay that you made mistakes, Aladdin, I'm not blaming you," she said evenly, trying to hide her disappointment. She realized that her expectations for him were too high. Not everything came to him as easily as stealing food in the marketplace or thwarting magical enemies. "But I said before that having Genie help us is not the point. We can't count on him all the time. We have to depend on ourselves and also involve as many of our citizens as we can. It's time for Agrabah's people to work together in defending the city, not just depend on a small band of heroes to do it for them."

"Okay, okay, I get it. I'll fix up what I did wrong and get the project back on schedule," he said. He didn't like to be taken lightly, and her quick disapproval of him must have felt like a dismissal. It was his turn to change the topic. "How was Desrial?"

She didn't tense this time. Her lie was prepared and rehearsed. "It was fine. A waste of time, though; the sultan didn't accept the proposal."

"He turned it down after inviting you to his city? That was pretty rude."

"Politics as usual. Desrial makes it no secret that it thinks it's superior to every other kingdom," she said, trying to keep the malice out of her voice. She tugged her cloak tighter around herself.

"I guess we'll have to think of some other way to get a port."

She noticed he was watching her closely, observing her hand that still gripped her cloak. He touched her forehead with his palm. "Did you catch something?"

"Just a little cold," she said, removing his hand gently. "I'm not used to traveling."

"You mean traveling on a horse and not a magic carpet," he quipped, but the concern did not fade from his eyes. "You actually look more tired than I am, Jasmine. Maybe you should call for one of the healers."

"No, I'm fine," she said firmly. "I just need a little rest, that's all."

"You should go rest right now," he insisted. "Come on, I'll walk you to your room."

He took hold of her arm to help her up, and she winced as her skin stung. He drew back in surprise and suspicion.

"It's nothing," she said quickly. She couldn't think of a random excuse this time. "Just feeling a bit weak."

"Did you hurt yourself?" he pressed. She found it strange that he was being so persistent. He usually didn't act too protective because he knew she hated being coddled.

"I'm fine. Let's just go to my room."

But she stumbled on a cushion when she tried to stand, and the cloak slipped from one shoulder as she regained her balance. She quickly drew it over herself again, but it was too late. Aladdin stopped her hand with his own, and uncovered the burns and circular tentacle marks on her skin.

"What happened?" he said in a hardened tone. The look in his eyes said she couldn't brush off the question this time. But she couldn't well answer either, so she said nothing, breaking her gaze away with a terrible sense of dread.

"What the hell happened, Jasmine?" Aladdin said, his voice rising roughly. She hesitantly met his eyes again only to recoil at the mounting fury she saw in them. "Did he hurt you?"

The frozen look on her face gave her away immediately. He knew. He must have seen it in the fountain after all. But why hadn't he said anything until now?

"What did he do to you?" he went on. "How much…how far did he…"

He broke off painfully and took her by the shoulders as gently as he could manage in his anger. "Say something, Jasmine!"

"You saw," she said quietly, not meeting his eyes.

"I saw a glimpse of something I thought was just an illusion!" he snapped, forcing her chin up so she had to look at him. "I thought my mind was playing tricks on me because I hadn't slept for a day! But it was real, wasn't it? Tell me what happened!"

"Raeven didn't want anything in exchange for the port," she said at last, each word wrenching itself out of her throat. "Except me."

"So he forced himself on you?" Aladdin said incredulously. The question was laced with both anger and fear. Anger at the thought that someone might have hurt her, but fear that it had actually not been against her will.

It hurt too much to lie, to add yet another dark secret to the growing rift between them. So she forced herself to tell the truth, though it was like bile in her throat.

"He slipped a drug into my drink, Aladdin," she said brokenly, her heart pounding under his unrelenting stare. "I…I wasn't myself. I'm sorry! I stopped him before…before it could get worse…I'm sorry!"

His grip tightened on her shoulders as he fought with his emotions. She bit her lip as he mastered his anger slowly, releasing her and sitting down on the floor once more. She followed suit, afraid to speak again.

"It's not your fault, then, only his, that worthless piece of trash." His voice was dangerously low. "I was afraid you…no, I know you wouldn't have. I trust you, Jasmine. I still do."

She breathed a bit easier at that assertion. He took her hand in his. "But you fought him off? Is that how you were injured?"

"Yes." She felt a dull prick inside as she returned helplessly to her pile of lies. "I left the kingdom right after that."

He frowned and drew her cloak further down her arm to see the extent of her wounds. "He burned you? But what are these round marks? There aren't any weapons shaped like this."

Before she could answer, his mind turned to something else. "How did I see that in the water? I was just sitting by the fountain, and as far as I know it's just an ordinary fountain. There was magic involved, there had to have been."

He fixed her with an unwavering gaze that said he knew she was hiding something.

"What else happened?" he asked simply.

She took a breath before cutting free another secret. "I had a run-in with Saleen."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not having expected that as an answer.

"As I was on my way back to Agrabah, I stopped at an oasis, and she dragged me into the water," Jasmine began. "She apparently controls all the water in Desrial, so she saw me and R—she saw what happened. To rub it in, she planned to show you. So that's how the image appeared to you in the fountain."

"How did you escape?"

"She let me go," she lied yet again. At his look of doubt, she continued quickly. "Because the damage had been done. She didn't need to keep me anymore. It'd be worse for me to return here and have you despise me."

His eyes softened at her words. He seemed to realize how frighteningly angry he had appeared to her and looked sorry immediately. "Jasmine, I don't despise you. Don't ever think that."

He drew her into a tight embrace, taking care not to hurt her burned arm. She buried her face in his shoulder, relieved that he wasn't angry with her. He spoke into her hair, his voice trembling. "I'm so sorry for what happened. I wish I could have been there to stop him…I should have gone to Desrial instead of staying here! I should have gone and put that arrogant bastard in his place."

He tensed in her arms, and she looked up at his face. His jaw was set in determination. "I'm going to go there right now."

"No!" she said immediately, wrapping her arms more tightly around him. "You can't! Aladdin, this isn't the time for heroics. This is politics. If you go, you'll only drag everything out into the open! Both of our kingdoms will find out about what happened, and it'll only go downhill from there."

He clenched his jaw in frustration. "I won't just sit here after someone assaults my fiancé. It's not right. I have to go set things straight."

"Did you hear any part of what I just said? Don't be a fool, Aladdin. Thank you for wanting to defend my honor. But you can't go to Desrial. You can't mention it to anyone. We have to just forget about it. I promise that it'll never happen again."

"That's not a promise that you can make, Jasmine," he said, and she could see how much his heart was splintered over this. "You're beautiful. You might face this situation again."

"I won't ever be that careless again," she asserted. "I'll make sure the next sultan who tries something loses his crown jewels before he can touch me."

Aladdin winced at the thought, and she saw he was starting to let go of his impulsive desire to beat the daylights out of Raeven.

"I hate that I can't do anything. I wish I could do something to help you."

"You can," she said softly. She took her face in his hands. "Just trust me."

"I do," he said, placing his hands over hers. "You've always trusted me, and I gave you far less reason for it."

His words lanced at her conscience as they clearly weren't true under the current circumstances. She smiled as genuinely as she could and drew him toward her for a kiss. He returned it with hesitation, not knowing how she felt about it after having been assaulted by another man. But she wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting to assure him that it was alright. It was all he needed to pull her closer, and she almost crumbled as she realized that at the base of it, she was trying to reassure herself first.

He gave her a tentative smile when they parted, and she shoved away her self-loathing for the moment just so she could smile back.

"Your breath isn't that bad."

She swatted his arm. "You were going to walk me to my room?"

"Oh, right, Your Highness," he said obsequiously, getting to his feet and helping her up. As they walked down the corridor toward her room, he spoke again in seriousness. "We've got more work to do once you get enough rest. Thanks for being patient with me. And…let me know if you want to talk about anything, okay? I know this won't be easy to forget."

"I'll be fine," she said as they reached the door. He glanced at her bed behind her before focusing his gaze on her again. It was clear he wanted to stay beside her, but by law it was not yet time for them to share that level of intimacy. She kissed him again and watched him go.

She settled under the covers and sank into sleep, not allowing herself time to fall back into regret and guilt. It would do nothing.

***

11.

***

She awakened the next morning having slept well over twelve hours. Both her body and mind had desperately needed rest, and she woke up refreshed, ready to begin her tasks with more energy than before. She and Aladdin worked together throughout the morning, discussing the progress of each of their projects.

She forced herself not to dwell on what had happened in Desrial, but spent whatever free time she had trying to analyze the sorcerer's actions at the oasis.

He had come to save her immediately after she had called for him. And the apparent reason was that he didn't want someone else to defeat her before the thirty-day game was over. Was that all, though? She had a hard time believing it was so simple, especially after his unexpected offer of the antidote. Again, he could have capitalized on her weakness and taken advantage of her, and again he had chosen not to. He had done the opposite instead by helping her.

Was he her enemy or not? Perhaps he wanted her to prove her wrong about him just for the sake of proving her wrong.

More than once, he had said that her perception of him was false or too simplistic. It seemed now that her stereotypical view of an enemy was wrong. She had believed he would always seek to do her harm, but that was obviously not the case. However, he could just be trying to throw her off guard so she would be unable to predict his future plots.

He was truly a mystery. He was attracted to her, but made no advances. He was an enemy, yet in effect he was helping her strengthen her kingdom with his challenge. He belittled her as stubborn and spoiled, yet took the time to impart wisdom to her.

In contrast, Aladdin was so easy for her to understand. A simple, good-hearted man with no complications. As they worked together to strengthen the kingdom, she realized she was often able to predict what he would say or do next. She had thought him so full of surprises when he had first won her affection. His life had seemed to be a rush of adventure, freedom, and the love of a challenge—everything she wanted but had never been allowed to have. Now, however, she realized he was missing qualities that the kingdom needed in a sultan, which were more important than her own desires for him as her beloved.

If only she could map out Mozenrath's character and motives as easily as she could read Aladdin's.

That night she decided to tackle the problem from a different angle. It wouldn't help to keep puzzling over the same information from the past week and a half. Adding that information to the several encounters she had had with Mozenrath in the past would not help much either. He had only shown himself to be a power-hungry villain back then, but obviously there was more depth to him. She had to know who he was outside of his status as her enemy, for enemies were defined rather narrowly in relation to oneself. She had to know him as an individual.

Where to start then?

It was late afternoon when she called for the old historian who had given her encouragement from the beginning of her endeavors in governance. They sat in one of the smallest meeting rooms, and Jasmine made sure there was no one in the hallways who could overhear their conversation.

"Councilor Thanon. I ask your forgiveness for interrupting your work. But I need help once again concerning magical matters."

"It is my honor to serve you, Your Highness. I am the one who must apologize if my knowledge is too inadequate to give you what you seek."

"I trust that your knowledge is vast beyond my ability to measure. Do not worry about disappointing me," she said graciously. She got straight to the point then. "I would like to ask what you know about dark magic."

The old man stroked his gray-white beard in thoughtful solemnity. "Dark magic…what exactly do you wish to know about it, Your Highness?"

"Everything. I don't know much except that it's forbidden and it's associated with evil spirits."

"That is correct. Magic in general must be drawn from the spiritual realm, whether from one's own soul or from otherworldly powers. The patron spirits of dark magic are of the underworld, demonic forces that lend their power to mortals willing to treat with them. And the act of performing dark magic almost always involves harming others for the benefit of oneself."

"What are its origins? When did people start using it?"

"Its origins are in the human heart," the historian responded with a sad sigh. "There lies in each of us the potential to allow pride and aspiration for greatness fester into the desire to conquer and rule over others. But as to when dark magic came about…there is only legend. Do you remember the story I used to tell you in your childhood about the origin of the Seven Deserts?"

She shook her head, only able to recall it vaguely.

"There is an old legend that there was at one time not Seven, but Eight Deserts, each of them created by a god," he began, and she shifted her legs so she could sit more comfortably. Once the historian launched into a story, it was hard to stop him—both because he was so wrapped up in his love of history and mythology, and because his stories fascinated her as well.

"The eight gods watched over the many kingdoms that gradually rose in their respective realms. Over time the civilizations of man grew in size, power, wisdom, and wealth. The gods gifted their peoples with the ability to use different kinds of magic, and certain regions achieved great fame for their mastery of magical arts. Hence the gods measured their own success and glory by the achievements of their subjects. But one of the gods became obsessed with proving his superiority over the others, and began using magic to conquer, encouraging the kingdoms under his sway to specialize in destructive magic—now known as dark magic. He thus conquered three deserts that bordered his, enslaving many kingdoms and even imprisoning the three gods that guarded those realms. The other four gods immediately marched against him and his new followers; this was how the first Ancient War began. Over half of the human population in the Eight Deserts died, and entire kingdoms were wiped off the slate of history. In the end, after immeasurable costs had been exacted on both sides, the conqueror god was defeated. The three gods he imprisoned were freed, and together the seven decided how to punish their offending brother.

"Because he was divine, he could not be killed. But they did the closest thing they could to killing him by splintering his soul into countless pieces that could not be put back together. They then scattered the pieces across the land he had created, imbuing his essence into the sand. Thereafter, nothing could grow on the land as it was cursed with evil, and all those who had settled on it moved elsewhere, leaving it barren. That is why the desert there to this day is different from all the others, and why it is no longer counted among the major Deserts."

"The Land of the Black Sand," she said softly.

"Yes. I believe Your Highness has observed the properties of the sand there before," Thanon said, not elaborating on the specifics. It was not a pleasant experience to speak about. "There is magic in its intrinsic makeup, and thus it can easily be manipulated in spells."

"So only wizards and other magic users have lived on that land?"

"Few others have any wish to enter," he replied. "But yes, ambitious wizards and witches have tried to claim the land as their own many a time in the past. Its black sands have been darkened further with the blood spilt over ownership rights."

She decided not to ask about Mozenrath in particular yet. There was more she needed to know about the past.

"What do you know of Destane?"

The historian's gentle features hardened, and his voice was grave. "He was one of the most notorious wizards of the current age, known for his brutal conquest and massacres in the east in the past two decades. To utter his name in those lands is akin to a curse. But he is not as well known here since he turned all of his attention toward conquering elsewhere first. We are fortunate that he never did get to enter the west, as he was overthrown by his own apprentice several years ago. But I cannot say if we will continue to be so fortunate with the latest Lord of the Black Sand, as it seems he has taken a keen interest in Agrabah."

She kept her expression neutral as she refocused the conversation on Destane. She didn't want to discuss Mozenrath with anyone in the palace out of fear she would break one of the rules of his challenge. But she also didn't want to hear anyone speak ill of him at the moment, as she was just starting to revise her perception of him as an enemy. It was somewhat absurd that she was trying to be objective in judging him, but if she wanted to win, she had to think differently.

"Our kingdom must be better defended against dark magic, then. I'll need to know more about Destane in order to guard the city against his successor."

The historian looked thoughtful. "Very wise, Your Highness. But I am afraid I cannot tell you much more about Destane. I have not studied dark magic and its practitioners to a wide extent, as their history carries a rather vile stench. Most scholars steer clear of the subject since it tends to make others wary of their true intentions for studying the material. However, I do know one man…"

He hesitated despite the insistent look on her face. "Your Highness, I can tell you are eager to learn more for the sake of the kingdom, and that is of course very admirable. I assume that once I tell you about this acquaintance of mine, you will spare no time in seeking him out. But I must speak a word of caution. Those who learn too much of dark magic are soon haunted by it, and if they are not careful to keep separate the scholarly study of the subject from the personal desire to experiment, then it is very easy to become consumed by it."

She listened and nodded, knowing she would never fall into such a downward spiral. She had little desire to experiment with magic and even less of a desire to harm others.

"The man I know is one such example. When I saw him last, he was not quite right…not quite whole in mind and spirit. A brilliant scholar, but he fell into the lure of the craft he devoted his life to studying. In his old age, he has lost the ability to use magic, so you will not be harmed. He goes by the name of Eberzin and has made his home in the city of Seripensia. Rather a long distance from here, Your Highness. I pray…" He hesitated again, already seeming to regret telling her about this man. "I pray that if you must go, you will be very, very careful. As I have sworn an oath to support and protect the royal family, I am of the opinion that you should not go, though your cause for obtaining this knowledge is highly admirable."

"I am grateful for your concern, Councilor. I am aware of the dangers of such magic, having been on the receiving end of it several times. Please do not fear for my wellbeing, however. I will make sure to take the appropriate precautions before seeking out Eberzin. But I do not have much time in my schedule, and I will have to leave for Seripensia soon. I will need to know where Eberzin lives within the city."

The old man's face fell slightly, but he followed her orders. "I will give you his location as I knew it from several years ago, and we must hope that he has not moved elsewhere since then. I also have something from my study that I must give you to bring to him."

She followed Thanon to his study, which resembled a stuffy library. Books and scrolls lined all four walls up to the ceiling, and the most recent arrivals lay in neat stacks in the back corner. He removed one key from the dozens that hung from the closet door behind his desk, and bent down to unlock a drawer. He drew out a small, dusty chest and opened it to reveal a faded brass bracelet. The inside rim was rusted brown, and the outside was dented in a few places. It bore no engravings or lettering.

"Tell him that this is from Thanon, son of Gavir, and he will oblige your request," he said.

"Thank you." She accepted the old bracelet from him with curiosity. She would look at it more carefully later.

He pressed a piece of parchment into her hand with directions to Eberzin's residence. The worried look did not fade from his eyes as she left his study.

She would go that night, when no one could see her leave or return. Seripensia was far indeed, too far for Carpet to travel even in one day. She could not go under the pretense of an official visit since Agrabah had no business with that state, and it would take too long to get there by land in the first place. That left only Genie, but whatever excuse she gave him would still make him suspicious. He wasn't the best secret-keeper, either.

She paced back and forth in her bedroom after supper, stopping every few minutes to gather random belongings she would need for the secret journey. How could she get to Seripensia? Could she draw Eberzin to Agrabah somehow? But that would take too long once again. She had already donned her cloak and strapped a dagger to her belt, preparing herself for any trouble on the way. She just had to think a little harder…

She quietly left the palace by a familiar route through the gardens and slipped unnoticed into the streets. It didn't take her long to find her destination. Genie had recently created the rather eccentric-looking house for the two inhabitants after they had moved to Agrabah.

As she knocked, she couldn't help but smile at the neon sign hung over the pastel-colored door.

Welcome to Eden, where you'll be just Dhandi.