A/N: Well, this sudden dash of fast updates again is probably going to mean some long lapse soon. Not because of writer's block, (too many loose ends for that to be even a possibility), but because of life. Something like that always happens, what with Halloween coming up, a straight row of my friends' b-days, Thanksgiving, Veteran's Day, Christmas, Hanukah, Kwanza, ETC. Anyways, I hope you're enjoying the story. To helk, (combination between heck and hell that Haillie made up) with that "2 chapter left" thing. Differences will go on! And I will post an especially long epilogue at the ending point, which is some way off.

Disclaimer: I don't own Aladdin, even though I would adore the idea of owning an evil mastermind like Jafarty here. And Haillie's plot bunnies are still nestled in the plotline somewhere…(looks around suspiciously)

Chapter 26

Flight

(Sultana Kamaria)

Uggghhhh…

Urrnnnnnnnnnnnnn….

Hnnnnnnmmmmmmmnnnn…

Wow. I was a caveman. Ahem. Cavewoman.

Blackness. More unconsciousness was coming, then.

…………………………..

Sun peaked blearily through my eyelids. My head was throbbing, I felt like my stomach was going to heave. There was a sick, dry and fuzzy feeling in my throat, like after a night you've been up too long and laughed too much. My throat screamed with soreness, demanding a good long swig of clear water.

When I opened my eyelids halfway, I decided that it hadn't even been worth the effort of using the tiny muscles found in the eyelids. The light dazzled my already confounded vision. It made my stomach retch, though I managed to keep my last meal down.

I must have passed out numerous times already, because the sun was too high in the sky for it to be the same day as my…my brain shot awake. Kidnapped. The word branded me.

A bolt of panic flashing through my chest pushed the wooziness off to a corner for the moment. Jafar, plotting to overtake the throne. Genies, everywhere. Aladdin and Jasmine, still needing to be wed. The press. At this last thought, I decided not to think at all. Any thoughts about the press would just make me throw up anyways.

I felt it more than I heard it.

Hot, wet breath, right below my ear. A moment later, I felt pressure against the hollow where my head and my neck were connected. "She's awake," grunted a gruff voice. Badump, badump, said my heart.

Searing pain.

It was more like a kick, actually. It landed right in between my third and fourth rib, my personal weak spot. I choked and gasped as the throbbing pain spread from the kicked side. I would have rolled over, but in my current state, that was hopeless.

I heard a sneering chuckle, and then another loud, higher-pitched voice. "Don't do that, Taabish! The order were to have her unharmed!" An acknowledging grunt. It was the first time that I was aware of the clopping of horse hooves, and rattling of wheels over a rutted road.

But for now, I concentrated on the pain spreading through my side. I would be sore for weeks. I wanted to curse and rant and rave and insult their mothers with the best swears I knew for doing this to me, reducing their Sultana to a pulp like this, but right now, I didn't even have the energy to cry.

……………………….

It might have been the swaying of the horse-drawn wagon, or the drug kicking in again, or just the pain. But I knew one thing for sure: I fell unconscious again before long.

When I came to, it was obvious that it was night. The sky was a perfect shade of royal blue with stars twinkling like precious gems strewn across it. I was facing up again now, and my arms had gone numb from me lying on top of them. When I tried to move them to get them to circulate, I realized that my hands were tied.

For that moment, I had forgotten that I was a hostage captive. I just looked at the sky and appreciated the rocking movement of the wagon and the beautiful colors of the Arabian world.

And then I just had to move my hands, and was reminded of all of this scum.

The gruff-voiced man called Taabish was leering at me when I turned my head to the right. "Awake at last, sleeping beauty," he hissed between yellowed teeth. I winced at the tang of tobacco.

The driver, a thin, reedy man with a goatee, curled his beard nervously around his finger and twitched constantly, as if feeling like somebody was constantly watching him and evaluating his doings. "Taabish!" he said sharply.

Taabish turned angrily, and yelled, "What?!"

The little man twitched. His goatee wobbled dangerously. "She's awake?" Taabish nodded irritably. "Well, we're nearing Allah's City, so untie her but guard her well. I'm not going to carry her all the way to the bosses home."

Taabish grunted, heaved me up none too gently, and began painfully unknotting my hands, jerking the stout rope hard every time, trying to cause me pain in every way possible. I winced and gritted my teeth, and refused the temptation to whimper and cry and beg them for my life.

As I sat and waited for the burning in my wrists to subside, (rubbing them felt like burning them), I watched as the skyline of a vast city appeared. It was very large, probably larger than Agrabah.

"Cadi! Drive the horses faster!" Taabish roared. The thin man obliged. "Hiya!" The horses, both gray, were whipped into a gallop, and we entered the city with a cloud of dust trailing behind us.

………………………..

Nearly two hours later, I was brought before their "boss".

It was a large, four-story building that they called their "headquarters". I was led painfully up all the staircases, with me gingerly laying down my blistered feet and Taabish yanking on my sleeve and heaving me up if I did not go fast enough.

Cadi and Taabish stopped in front of a large pair of double doors, pushed them forward, and threw themselves to the ground in a low bow. When I did not follow their actions immediately, Taabish glared out from the floor and yanked so hard on the hem of my dress that I stumbled and fell in between my two captors.

I just sat there, refusing to bow. I was a Sultana, and I had my dignity to preserve.

The man sitting on the throne could not be called handsome. He had a sharp nose, a well-angled face, and sharp brown eyes. He had thick lips and an unevenly tanned face, with whiskers spreading unevenly over the bottom half of his face. His hair was tousled and unevenly cut, sticking up in odd, unpredictable bunches.

He had a thick neck, too.

But something about him caught my interest.

His voice, most likely.

His voice, when he spoke, was like honey. It seemed to sing and paint pictures, and slide pleasantly, like honey. If voices had color, his would be honey-gold. I could listen to him speak for a millennia and ever on.

But his words to say were not so pleasant. They echoed off the high walls of the chamber so that even I, lost in the web his words spun, could not miss them.

"Ah, at last. I see the Sultana of Agrabah, high and mighty, kneeling at my feet." He gave an amused chuckle. "I have long awaited this moment. I can die happy now." I did not respond, nor make any move to bow again.

"Taabish! Cadi! Leave us!" he suddenly said, throwing two pouches of money at their feet. They scrambled to get out of the room, clutching the money greedily in their clawed, grubby hands.

The man looked at me thoughtfully, contemplated. It suddenly struck me the odd resemblance he had to Jasmine's father. Or rather, Sorrah's father. Those were the same eyes, and the same kingly smile. I shook my head. What was I thinking? The old Sultan had been nothing like this man.

And yet…

The resemblance stood. And then I noticed something more: the sharp nose. It was my nose. And those high eyebrows.

He was chuckling sadistically now. "So, at last, mother, we meet again. And this time, I am the ruler on the throne looking down at you." I choked. "M-mother?" I finally asked.

"And how is my dear sister Sorrah, pray tell?" he continued. I was shivering. My eyes were wide, staring at my shaking hands and clawing at the floor for a hand grip. Good thing I was already sitting.

Blackness was closing around my eyes again. "Not again," was my last thought.

I fainted to the sound of my son's laughter.

A/N: Wow. Any more plot twists and this story will go on for fifty chapters or more. We can't have that, can we?