The last time Kassim had been locked in a cell, it had been with Aladdin locked at his side. Back then, everything had seemed easier. Plus, they'd had a Genie on their side. Could use one of those right about now…
The irony of having Aladdin be the one to send him down to the depths this time was not lost on him. Under different circumstances, maybe he would have laughed. Maybe they all would have gotten a good laugh out of the sheer absurdity of it all.
As it was, Kassim could barely breathe, let alone manage a chuckle.
Inhale, exhale…
He'd been in the dungeons countless times, often even on his own. It was fine. He was fine. He knew how to deal with it—and the lack of chains was relieving, though he would never let Aladdin know that.
The guards had been gentle enough—he was the Royal Vizier after all—and Kassim supposed he hadn't needed to attack them like that… But old habits die hard, and up in that kitchen, he'd felt like a cornered street rat again. Nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. And no power to stop the guards.
What was the use in being vizier if he didn't have power when he needed it?
Can't overrule the sultan. Kassim rolled his eyes and leaned further into his corner of the cell. "Allah forbid anyone ever does that."
The sole guard standing watch nearby glanced his way and Kassim gave his eyes an even harder roll.
"I wasn't talking to you," he said. "But while I've got your attention, see about getting some water down here. I haven't had any since last night."
"Apologies, sir, but I can't leave my post."
"Right, right." Kassim waved a hand. "Because that would make things too easy, right? Maybe I'll just call for some. I can probably yell loud enough. Hey, do you think if I shouted loud enough, that jerk of a sultan up there would hear me?"
"Um, I don't—"
"Never mind. It doesn't matter. He probably wouldn't even listen anyway."
The guard straightened as footsteps echoed down the dark corridor. Kassim didn't see any reason to give up his seat on the floor, not after he had just found a comfortable position.
Babkak's voice filtered through the air seconds before he appeared. "I'm pretty sure you're going to be the death of me one of these days."
"Hello to you, too," Kassim said, laying the sarcasm on thick. "Nice weather we're having, isn't it? I mean, I wouldn't know from down here, but I can imagine it's nice."
"It's really not, I hate to break it to you."
"Eh, well, that makes sense. Why would it be?" Kassim shifted against the wall, pulling one of his legs up to his chest while the other stretched out. "Now, let me guess: Al sent you down here to convince me that he's doing the right thing and all that crap."
"No," Babkak replied. "I volunteered."
"Right."
"Besides, did you honestly think I could just go about my day after all that?"
"Some people seem to be able to…"
Babkak crossed his arms. "He'll come down when he can. He's going over everything with Jasmine."
"Great. Because the more people who know, the better, right?"
A long pause of silence filled the air, adding to the tension Kassim had been feeling in his chest since Ahmed's first accusation.
"Did you do it?" Babkak asked moments later.
Kassin shot him a hard look. "No, I didn't."
"I know." His brother nodded. "I just had to ask. I had to hear you say it to my face."
"Right, well, if only our sultan had your confidence and trust."
"Al believes you, too."
"Yeah?" Kassim snorted. A loose thread on the edge of his vest suddenly became more interesting than looking his brother in the eyes. "He has a funny way of showing it."
"He's the sultan now. He has to maneuver in this situation… diplomatically. If he sides with you, then Ahmed and his entourage will scream bias. Just because he has to go about things differently than we'd all like doesn't mean he thinks for a second that you're guilty."
"For a second, huh?" This time, Kassim's snort was half-hearted at best. "I saw his face before they brought me down here. There was doubt—and even a flicker of belief and anger. Just a flicker… Just a second, but it was there. I know it was there."
"All right, maybe it was there. That doesn't mean it's there now."
Kassim only shrugged, going back to picking at the thread. This conversation was going nowhere and he was just about ready for it to be over. That's when Babkak switched topics. Rather, moved on to a sub-topic of their last conversation.
Great, just what I always wanted.
"Where were you last night?"
The groan tore at his throat and Kassim washed a weary hand over his face. "Not you, too! I thought you said you believed me."
"I do," Babkak insisted, expression softening. Well, Kassim didn't need pity, he needed out of this damn cell. "But the easiest way out of this for you is to explain why no one could find you last night."
"You mean why Omar couldn't find me? Are we sure he didn't just dream that he couldn't find me? And why does he have to be involved, anyway? The kid probably had a nightmare and now he has to be a key witness? That's messed up, Babkak. That's messed up."
"Why couldn't he find you?" Babkak pressed and Kassim was startled to hear a touch of desperation in his tone. "Where were you that you don't want to say? This could all be over in seconds if you could just prove where you were."
"Oh, so now I have to prove it?"
"That's… Damn it, Kassim, that's not what I meant, and you know it!"
Right. He was making this harder than it needed to be, he knew that, too.
It took a long sigh to wash the sarcasm away—his age-old defense against the world and its cruelty.
"It's…" Kassim took a breath. Caution. He had to proceed with caution. "It's not that I don't want to say… I do. I just… can't."
Babkak looked worlds away from understanding. "Why not?"
"Because… I promised not to." Kassim forced himself onto his feet and made his way over to the cell bars. His cold, damp corner had suddenly become a vacuum devoid of air. He couldn't seem to catch a decent breath. "That's just gonna have to be good enough for now."
"Who did you promise?" Babkak's question was soft, barely audible, but no less painful than if he had shouted it.
Because it was a question Kassim couldn't answer—would never be able to answer—no matter how badly he wanted to.
"Kassim, who?"
"If you can figure it out," Kassim said, trying for a smirk and feeling it fall incredibly flat, "then maybe I'll tell you."
"All right… All right, there has to be some other way. We'll figure something else out."
"Are you trying to convince me of that or yourself?"
"Just…" Babkak fed a hand through the bar, clasping it firmly on his brother's shoulder. The contact was so warm and comforting that Kassim fought to keep his chest from hitching. "Don't stay too mad at Al. He's fighting to get you out of this."
"Not very hard," Kassim mumbled, earning a look from Babkak. "Fine, I'll try."
"Good." The silence returned, pressing down on them both like a dozen weights. Kassim knew Babkak couldn't stay down there forever, but he still felt the sharp loss of his friend's hand. "I need to talk to Al again. We'll figure this out, I promise."
"Sure," Kassim replied, feigning nonchalance. "But hey, don't be a stranger. You know how lonely it can get down here…"
Babkak looked like he wanted to say a thousand things all at once, yet he settled for only a nod. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
It was Kassim's turn to nod, his throat drying up as he watched Babkak disappear around the corner.
Inhale, exhale…
If Babkak was to be believed, he wouldn't be down there for long. Maybe this would all be cleared up by suppertime. Maybe they could all laugh about it before nightfall.
Maybe.
But the twisting in his gut told him otherwise.
"Hey!" Kassim swallowed back the sudden wave of nausea as he got the guard's attention. "Do you know how to play Ganjifa?"
The guard cautiously shook his head. He was one of the younger men on staff, so Kassim didn't fault him for his reticence. It wasn't every day he had to imprison his own vizier.
"Well, find us a deck at some point and I'll show you."
As the guard looked around for a deck of cards to magically materialize, Kassim massaged his temple.
It was going to be a long day.
The heat was turning up.
Everything was going so wrong.
It was never meant to be like this…
She had listened to her sultana and sultan argue in the next room over for the last half an hour. She could pick out certain words, while others were harder to decipher, but the overall message was crystal clear.
Kassim was in trouble.
And there was nothing she could do about it.
Not now. Not yet. Maybe not ever…
"Eavesdropping again?"
Aisha jolted at Zuma's voice, but she didn't move from her place near the wall.
"He'll be okay, won't he?"
The other handmaiden shrugged. "You probably know more about it than I do. You always were the nosey one."
"But… What that dignitary accused him of isn't true. It can't be."
Zuma's sigh was not the kind of comfort Aisha had been looking for. "They're all great guys, sure, but… We can't forget who they were before they came here."
Aisha frowned. "Are you saying, once a thief, always a thief?"
"I'm not saying anything for certain, I'm just… being cautious. Look, it's better not to get involved. I know you two have some sort of thing going, but this isn't the kind of situation either of us needs to be getting mixed up in." Softening her tone, Zuma crouched down. "How's your ankle?"
"Fine." If only she could have quiet again—if only she could hear what Jasmine was saying.
Zuma tsked, lightly probing the bandaged foot. "I still don't know how you fell down the stairs."
"Clumsy, I guess," came Aisha's half-hearted reply. She pressed her ear to the wall.
She needed answers, not more questions.
Jasmine was usually open with her handmaidens. Maybe she would share what she knew. Maybe…
Maybe she could visit him. Talk to him. Talk about—
The muted voices died down until Aisha had her desired silence, though not in the way she had wanted. They were done talking—done shouting. Maybe they would—
What? She didn't know. Didn't know what she wanted or needed.
No. Scratch that. She needed Kassim to be all right. She needed answers about—
But it would have to wait. As much it tried to consume her whole world, she had other pressing matters to care for. A princess… sultana to see to. Aisha still hadn't gotten used to that. Jasmine had been a princess for as long as she could remember.
You've been at her side for more years than you can count.
She'd understand.
Tell her. She would under—
But there had been so much yelling, so much shouting.
Now's not the time.
Now's not the time…
Maybe someday. Maybe not ever.
"Aisha? Honey, are you listening to me?"
Zuma's fingers snapped in her face, pulling her out of her mind.
"What?"
"I said, if you think you can walk, the sky is clearing outside. Maybe some fresh air will do you some good."
It was on the tip of her tongue. Take me to the dungeons. I need to see him.
But what came out instead was a short nod and a Sure, that might help.
Hobbling to the balcony, Aisha sucked in a breath of air, willing its freshness to solve all her problems.
Nothing. Silence.
No answers. No direction.
No solution to her problem.
But she had been a fool to expect one. Always the fool, aren't you?
Aisha hugged her arms around her chest. The daylight was beautiful, to be sure, but it didn't erase the pain of the night.
And until she found her solution, it never would.