A Whole New World (Disney Twisted Tales) - Liz Braswell Page 0,43

mouse. Or—anything. Instead he just pushed him over the railing. Just like that.”

“I think Jafar has been nursing some very high ambitions…and some very angry thoughts for a long time,” Aladdin said gently. “This was all extremely planned. Arresting me for being with you was just part of it. He needed me to get the lamp with the genie in it.”

Jasmine blinked. “You got the lamp for Jafar?”

“Yeah. It’s a long story. Funny, I’ve been saying that a lot recently. Someday maybe I’ll tell you the whole thing. Suffice it to say that I never want to go inside another cave again.”

Jasmine frowned. “So…it wasn’t my fault? He would have found someone else to do his dirty work anyway?”

“I have no idea. It’s something I’ve wondered about. But it is your fault for not thinking of the consequences when you went out and about in Agrabah in disguise,” Aladdin said gently. “I just thought you were a pretty rich girl slumming it. Your Royal Highness.”

“You think I’m pretty?” she asked, eyes wide.

Aladdin paused with his mouth hanging open, unsure what to say.

“Ha! I’m kidding, of course you do,” Jasmine said, cracking a very unprincessy smile. She pushed him on his shoulder and for a moment Aladdin was reminded, not unfavorably, of Morgiana. “You’re as easy to read as a book in Aramaic.

“You need to tell me the truth about one thing, though,” she added, suddenly serious.

“Anything,” he promised.

“What is your name?”

Aladdin laughed.

“I guess we never formally introduced ourselves, did we?” He leapt up and gave a deep bow. “I am Aladdin, son of Hatefeh, who was the daughter of Twankeh, who was the son of Ibrahim, who was the daughter of a whole lot of people you’ve never heard of. No one’s ever heard of.”

“And I am…well, you already know who I am,” Jasmine said, growing gloomy again. “I’m really, really sorry for everything you’ve been through.”

“It’s been worth it. Mostly,” Aladdin said, sitting back down on the ground next to her. He winced at the pain in his side. Jasmine saw it and sucked in her breath. But when she reached out to touch it, he lightly pushed her hands away. “Besides, I lived through it to fight another day. We’ll get Jafar. And get you back on your throne. Somehow. In memory of your father.”

“In revenge of my father,” Jasmine hissed through her teeth. She clenched her fists again and stared into the distance with burning anger.

Aladdin rubbed his hands over his face. Too much had happened too quickly. Everything was changing too fast. The old sultan was gone—not a great man as sultans went, but at least he was consistent. Jafar, the creepy vizier, was now a creepy and insane dictator. Agrabah was—different. Everything felt uneasy.

And Rasoul was gone.

Aladdin didn’t have especially deep feelings for the man. Especially since he had gifted Aladdin with the wound to his side. But, like the old sultan, he had been a constant in Aladdin’s life. A personal one. Rasoul had been chasing him since he was a boy. Now Aladdin was a young man, and Rasoul was captain of the guard. It was almost like they had grown up together, on different paths.

A strange ache formed in Aladdin’s stomach. He had never wished the man dead. He had never been responsible for anyone’s death before. That was different, too. This guilt was new. And everything new seemed terrible.

Except for Jasmine.

Just looking at her made him feel better about everything. Her hair was now in a braid wrapped around her head like a nomad girl’s, tendrils coming down around her ears in a ridiculously charming way. Her face, streaked with dust, still glowed.

In another time and place, he would have reached over to kiss her.

But she was different, too. She was seething. He realized he was watching the happy and generous—albeit naive—girl turn into something dark and terrible.

He had to stop it.

“We have to stop him,” she said, her voice cracking, strangely echoing his own thoughts.

“All right, we will,” he said softly, putting his arm around her. “But I don’t think we can stop him on our own. Let’s get somewhere safe. Morgiana’s. We can figure stuff out from there.”

He stood up and gave her his hand. She took it, struggling with an exhaustion that threatened to pull her back down.

He checked outside but the danger seemed to have passed; he could hear Agrabah reawakening behind the patrol, like scrub grass full of timid insects that start chirping again once mounted