A Whole New World (Disney Twisted Tales) - Liz Braswell Page 0,11

said, holding out his hand. She took it, as he somehow knew she would. “It’s this way.”

The girl grinned in delight as he took her over boards brittle with dry rot and loose stones worn down in the middle by countless feet centuries earlier. They entered a tower through a keyhole-shaped window that must have had bright mosaics around it at one time; everything shiny or worth anything at all had been scavenged decades before. Not even rats lived in this high, desolate place anymore.

Well, two did. Two Street Rats, if one counted Abu.

“Watch your head,” Aladdin said, making sure she ducked under a gigantic timber that slanted crazily from the center of the tower to the side.

“You…live…here?”

She didn’t say it with disgust. She was…surprised? Impressed?

Aladdin had never thought he would be bringing a girl back to his place who would actually like it.

They reached the landing he had chosen to call home. His mother had tried to keep their little hut as welcoming and homey as possible; he honored her memory by trying to do the same now. There were a few threadbare old rugs, some once-colorful cloths he had draped over the uglier, broken bits of stonework and used as curtains. There were even a few pillows for sleeping on and a couple of urns for water and, well, just decoration.

“Yup! Just me and Abu. We come and go as we please.”

“That sounds wonderful,” the girl said with a sigh.

“Well, it’s not much, but it’s got a great view.”

With a dramatic flourish of his arm, he swept back the curtain, knowing how impressed she would be.

Directly in front of them was the palace, a mile away but looming so large it seemed like they could reach out and touch it. At least a dozen of its golden onion-shaped domes were visible, glowing like suns. The giant formal gates and portcullis glowed lucky royal blue, like the sky. The road seemed to lead right from Aladdin’s tower through the city to the palace, pushing pesky houses and buildings to either side. Nobody obstructed the road. It had to be kept clear for caravans and deliveries and parades and the horses, litters, and wagons of visiting royalty.

There had been a lot of that lately, what with the princess having to marry soon.

“The palace looks pretty amazing, huh?” Aladdin sighed.

“Oh…it’s…wonderful,” the girl said. But she didn’t walk over to look with him. Instead, she collapsed on the steps that led up to his sleeping pad, wearily resting her head on her hands.

“I wonder what it would be like to live there. Or in any mansion. I’m not picky,” Aladdin mused, trying to conceal his disappointment at her reaction. Well, maybe at least he could get her to finally open up about where she was from. “All those servants…and valets…”

“Oh, sure, people to tell you where to go and how to dress,” the girl said, rolling her eyes.

“It’s better than here, where you’re always scraping for food and ducking the guards,” he pointed out.

“You just said you and Abu come and go as you please. If you were born into a royal family, you’d have to do whatever they told you to. Whatever you’re expected to do. And you can’t go anywhere.”

“Yeah, well, you can’t go anywhere socially when you’re a Street Rat. Our upward mobility is strictly limited. Even if I wanted honest work, no one would hire me. For any job. Not even for a servant at an estate. And there’s no place else to go. Once you’re born in the Quarter of the Street Rats, you’re…”

“Trapped,” Jasmine finished.

Aladdin looked up at her, surprised. It was like she actually understood—like she felt the same way.

He went over and sat down next to her. She didn’t move to give him more room. Their legs touched.

He took a couple of apples out of his sash, handing one to her and the other to Abu. Abu rewarded him with happy, raucous chittering and then did exactly as Aladdin had hoped: he scampered up into the roof of the tower to enjoy the whole thing by himself.

The girl pulled a tiny silver dagger out of her clothes and neatly cut her apple into two halves, handing one to him. He grinned at her and toasted her with his half.

“So where are you from, anyway?” he finally dared to ask.

“What does it matter?” she growled. “I ran away and I am not going back.”

“Really? How come? What could be so awful that you never want