Chapter 56: Dead Men

"Sultan Hamed," I breathed, my cheeks stinging, "you needn't slap me awake."

Though, perhaps this was another part of my punishment. First abandonment and now-

"Yeah, uh, I'm not Hamed," a male voice responded.

"What?" I rasped.

"Come on," the voice ordered. It was a bit too young to be Hamed, but it sounded familiar. "Up and at 'em. Open your eyes."

That was easier said than done. My eyelids felt so heavy.

SMACK!

"Ow!" I moaned. He'd slapped one of my already sore cheeks.

"Sorry," the voice said with perfect insincerity. "I thought you'd gone back to sleep."

I managed to crack an eye open and glare up at a face I'd thought I'd never see again.

My mouth and other eye opened in disbelief.

"Yeah, I know. We're technically rivals, but desperate times," he was saying seemingly oblivious to how impossible this encounter was.

I couldn't stop myself from uttering the obvious, "You're supposed to be dead."

Aladdin cocked his head to the side and said, "I think you have the two of us mixed up. Weren't you the one declared dead like a decade ago?"

He had a point but…but… "I must be dreaming," I guessed. I had been doing a lot of that recently and our surroundings certainly seemed to corroborate the idea. The simple orchard had transformed into a fantastical landscape. Though the sandy paths remained, just past them the grass and leaves on the trees appeared to be made of glass or perhaps diamond. Each tree was also filled with laughably large and delicious-smelling fruit-shaped jewels, and the tree trunks, including the one I was currently leaning against, were all made of engraved gold.

However, this splendor had been revealed to me when the sultan left and I was in a lot of pain for this to be a mere dream. My cheeks still stung. Other parts of me ached and my mouth and stomach felt like they had been hollowed out by a half-dull saw blade.

I had never experienced dehydration like this before. It made everything worse. Earlier my burning eyes had not had enough moisture for me to-

"Hey!" Aladdin snapped, "Do I need to slap you again?"

"No!" I snapped right back, my focus returning to him and the strangeness of his presence. I'd only seen Aladdin a few times before this. Even so, I felt like I'd seen him just yesterday. He had the same cocky look and was covered in ratty clothes and that monkey smell he wore like cologne.

"Good," Aladdin said. My eyes stopped scanning his attire to gaze at his smiling face. "Hamed said you were in shock, but my hand hurts, so less slapping works for me!"

Aladdin stood up and offered me a hand, presumably the unhurt one.

"Sultan Hamed," I corrected him. I did not take his hand. Standing sounded like a headache waiting to happen. "Is he here too?" I looked around. Maybe if the sultan was in a good enough mood, he could explain what this dead man was doing here.

"Nope," Aladdin answered. "He sent me to come get you on account of this being the Sultan's Garden and Hamed not being sultan anymore."

"I see…" even though I did not. If this was a place only for sultans, what was Aladdin doing here?

"Anyway…" the street rat decided to ignore my refusal. He grabbed my forearm and pulled. Considering our difference in size, he should not have been able to move me. And yet, he managed.

I was wobbling on my feet as he was saying, "Let's not hang around. Hamed said you had to say your name and order the magic sand tiger to let us out, so let's get that over with and get out of here."

What? I stopped swaying and stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"Look, I know it's weird, but at least it's easy. Say your name and something like 'I command thee to take me to the palace!'" Aladdin said, gesturing wildly. "And then we'll be golden."

"That's not possible," I informed him.

"Well, it's magic so it doesn't have to be."

Be that as it may, "You don't understand. I cannot say my name."

"You can't say your own name?" he repeated, his eyebrows going up. "Seriously, Alagan?"

My eyes narrowed. "No one calls me that."

"And no one says stuff like 'I can't say my own name,'" he countered. "It's super easy: Al-Uh-Gann. Surely a sophisticated prince like yourself can say that?"

I did not appreciate the condescending glint in the street rat's eyes. "As I have already informed you: no one calls me that. Furthermore, no amount of sophistication on my part will change my stance. We will die here before I say that name and that is the truth."

We stared at each other for a long time as if that might resolve the impasse.

At last, he asked, "So, you're sure you can't say it?"

"Completely," was my flat response.

"Got it," he conceded unhappily. He turned away from me and seemed to ask the space itself, "Now what?" Because we were the only two people here, I heard him in spite of the fact he was walking away from me and mumbling. "If only I could ask…oh! There's an idea." He spun around and came back to me. "I need to borrow your ring and lamp."

"My…" Oh right. I still had both. My hand was clutching the lamp tightly on instinct.

Aladdin tore it and the diamond ring away from me.

"What are you doing?" I asked, but I didn't pursue him. Standing was tiring enough and he was running.

"I'll be right back," he called as he raced over to the pedestal that still marked the center of the orchard. After scrambling on top of the thing, he announced, "See you in a bit." Then Aladdin hopped off the pedestal and…

Landed on the other side.

"Shit!" Aladdin swore. "I really thought that would work."

Obviously. The question was, "What on earth were you trying to do?"

"Go back to the Cave of Wonders. I used the magic fruit to-"

The Cave of Wonders?

Information from all those nights in the magician study flooded back into me and suddenly a few things made sense.

The Cave of Wonders, the treasury of the sultan of Agrabah, home to the genie of the lamp and the genie of the ring, full of more jewels, gold, and mysterious artifacts than should be humanly possible because it wasn't humanly possible.

It was magic.

Even Aladdin's comment about the sand tiger made sense. And Aladdin…still should be dead, but his presence was somewhat explained as well, "You're a diamond in the rough." It wasn't a question.

Aladdin confirmed it anyway. "Uh-huh. That's me."

So, we were probably in one of the chambers inside the cave. That also meant "Those," I gestured to the lamp and ring, "have a genie inside of them."

Aladdin's eyes lit up.

"Wait!"

But he was already rubbing the lamp.

Nothing happened.

I was both relieved and disappointed.

"It was worth a try," he said, putting the lamp down and immediately rubbing the ring next.

I winced, but again, there was no reaction.

"Yeah, I think these are just copies," Aladdin said with a frown. "The real ones are gold."

The real ones? "You say that like you've seen them before." Could that mean? "Was that how you saved your life? You made a wish?" I asked. If this place was part of the Cave of Wonders and there were genies around, could we wish to…but, no, it wasn't that simple. Not impossible, but the stories documenting such a wish weren't encouraging. Most stories about wishes weren't encouraging. It would be madness to place such an important task in a genie's hands, wouldn't it?

"You could say that," Aladdin said interrupting my descent into insanity. "I thought I had wished for a better life, but I got duped."

And here was yet another example of why magic was unreliable.

I should heed it.

"But this is great," Aladdin said and I was lost until he added, "You know about genies and magic then?"

"I do."

"Don't suppose there's any chance you have a genie."

"I was going to ask you the same thing," I replied.

"Ah, well, I don't have one anymore. Do you?"

"No."

And there went that wild idea.

My only idea…

"Man," Aladdin said sounding a bit like how I felt, "I wish I could remember what the sand tiger's name was."

"Why?" I asked, perking up again.

"We could use it to get out of here," Aladdin explained, "but it was a weird name and I don't remember it."

"You're saying you forgot the key to us leaving this place?"

"Yeah," Aladdin crossed his arms. "Like I said it was a weird name and I figured getting you to say your own name would be easy-peasy."

Only it wasn't and thus, "We are stuck here," I concluded.

Aladdin responded but I didn't hear him.

I was suddenly very tired.

I leaned against the garnet pomegranate tree behind me and slid back down to a sitting position.

I should have known. I had let myself be distracted by Aladdin, but it didn't undo what had happened. I couldn't undo what had happened even with magic. Hadn't Hamed told me that was wishful thinking? Hadn't I learned the hard way how dangerous magic was?

It wasn't like I deserved another chance. I shouldn't have received one the first time I'd attempted to murder someone more important than me and this time, it was more than an attempt.

I had done it.

I had killed the most important person in my life, the person I swore to protect.

Once again, my mind took me back to that night. Even before Prince Ali showed up, I had made a mistake. I should have been by her side, not loitering in my old room. When I saw Prince Ali, I'd understood he was a threat and had gotten the black sand. That was the last good decision I made that night.

I knew sneaking into the rooms, gaining the element of surprise, and quickly dealing with the situation was a viable strategy, yet I'd insisted on checking my appearance and talking with the guards.

All because I wanted to show everyone that I was a proper prince of Mujulaain.

But a proper prince of Mujulaain would have prioritized results to get the job done perfectly. He would have been able to keep a handle on the situation. If he had decided to involve the guards, he would have utilized them or at the very least been able to stop them from interfering.

Kishan would never have panicked or allowed things to escalate, but I wasn't him. I wasn't my father. I wasn't a proper prince of Mujulaain. I had never truly been crown prince despite all my mother's efforts to shape me into one. I hadn't lasted a month as a second prince and I'd proven myself to be worse than every other prince who had come to Agrabah to offer their hand.

All of them had been more worthy than I was.

How had I ever thought a useless fraud could compare to-

"-doing?" Aladdin was talking to me. I could sense how close he was, but I went back to ignoring him. He didn't matter. None of this mattered. Life had long since lost its-

"I said," Aladdin shouted in my ear, "What are you doing?"

Wasn't it obvious? I was going back to what I had been doing before he'd arrived, what I should have done years ago. Slowly but surely, I was, "Dying."

SMACK!

My eyes popped open.

SMACK!

"Ow! That-"

SMACK!

I grabbed his hand before he could do it again. "Stop!" I commanded.

"You stop!" Aladdin burst out, pulling out of my grip. "I'm not the one trying to give up on life after chatting for less than 10 minutes! What's your problem?"

What's my problem? Did he not know?

Durga pro-

No. I didn't deserve that either. I closed my eyes again and I stated the bare truth that could not be ignored any longer. "Jasmine is dead."

"No, she isn't," Aladdin snapped.

Before I could argue what should be an inarguable point, he added, "And if she was, she'd be rolling in her grave that her precious secret admirer was being such a loser!"

I glared at him. "You don't understand. You weren't there when it happened. When I-"

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"Aladdin, I killed Jasmine!"

Aladdin let go of me, his eyes wide with shock.

There.

He understood now.

Or I thought he did until he started laughing.

"It's not funny," I said. Jasmine was dead. She was dead and I had killed her. There was nothing laughable about it.

Aladdin did not agree. He laughed and laughed. Mocking me after all the times he'd nearly gotten Jasmine killed himself, after she mourned him being gone with all her heart. He thought her death was a joke!

This ungrateful unfeeling street rat! "Stop it!" I ordered. "Stop laughing!"

That just made him laugh harder, so I grabbed his vest and jerked him down to eye level. "You are a disgrace to her memory!"

"Right back at ya," he sneered.

SMACK!

Aladdin's head snapped back from my punch.

I let go of him, disgusted.

He was lucky I was weakened from dehydration. If I have been at full strength, I would have shattered his jaw. Instead, he was still in good enough shape to speak. "So, you have enough energy for that, but not enough to save your own skin? Seriously, Alagan, you're-"

"Don't call me that!" I snapped.

Aladdin stopped rubbing his jaw and then he had the audacity to grin at me.

His best friend was dead. How could he be smiling at her murderer?

Then he started to talk. "You keep saying not to call you Alagan, but what if I keep doing it? What will you do, Alagan? Hit me again? You have a pretty weak punch for someone so big, Alagan. Were you too pampered to learn how to fight properly, prim and proper Prince Alagan?"

"Damn you!" I shouted. I was too tired and dilapidated to fight, but I was also too angry to care!

I got up.

I was going to kill him and then I was going to die in peace!

"Come on, Alagan. You can do better than that, can't you, Alagan? Don't tell me you're too out-of-shape to talk and fumble around at once, Alagan," Aladdin taunted, while dodging my first series of attacks. The damn street rat was harder to hit than a fly. Every time I thought I had an opening, he slid away at the last moment.

"I'm disappointed, Alagan," Aladdin spouted with mock concern. "Look at yourself Alagan, too high and mighty to introduce yourself or even hit a lowly street rat. I'm sure Jasmine would be real impressed by you, Alagan. I bet you let her say your name all day long. Alagan. Alagan. Alagan. Alagan. Alagan."

"Stop…calling…me…"

"Calling you what, Alagan? What am I doing wrong, Alagan? Mad you can't say your own name, Alagan? Would you prefer I call you: Prince Alagan, Sultan Alagan, Stalker Alagan, SA, or maybe…" his smile widened as he avoided a kick to the shin. "I should just call you…Jasmine's murderer?"

"NO!"

I lunged wildly at him again and the two of us crashed onto the ground.

"That's not my name!" I yelled in his face.

Aladdin just sneered at me and said calmly, "Then what are-?"

DHI"REN!" The word was a roar that sounded more animal than human. The raw power of it had me shaking.

Aladdin was not intimidated by my display in the least, "Ren," he repeated. "Got it!"

In the next instant, the street rat escaped my grasp and shot back up to his feet. I had just managed to rise by the time, he was back at the center of the orchard, clambering up onto the pedestal again.

The fool stood up tall and shouted, "You hear that sand tiger? He said he's called Ren and he and I would really like to go back to the palace."

"You-!"

But my insult was interrupted by the ground moving. Both Aladdin and I lost our footing. All around us the gem fruit clinked and chimed against the glass leaves as a deep voice rumbled through the earth:

"Does the Diamond in the Rough speak true?

Diamond of Diamonds,

Jailer of Jinn,

Seer of Sand,

Master of Men,

Sultan of Agrabah,

The One called Ren:

What do you wish of me?"