that out of Jafar’s hands was pivotal in the war they planned to wage against the sorcerer to take back the city. Once he got it and began to raise the undead, things would get a lot harder.
And besides the obvious advantage of depriving Jafar of a weapon he was counting on, a victory against the “all-powerful sorcerer” would be huge for morale. It would be a sign to the rest of Agrabah that the good guys could win—and that, in turn, would drive even more people over to their side. Jafar would begin to feel vulnerable. Then it would only be a matter of time before they could defeat him entirely.
Aladdin waited on a rooftop, watching the wagons that appeared on the horizon grow larger and larger. The warm, dry wind whipped around his face, bringing the resinous scent of desert scrub with it. He wished Jasmine could be there next to him—just the two of them, sharing a quiet moment on a rooftop together. Like they were originally supposed to, scant moons ago, when she was just a rich girl in disguise slumming it and he didn’t even have a name.
He sighed, kicking his dry, bare feet against the dried mud roof. Someday there would be time. When all of this was over. When Jafar was overthrown and the city was theirs and Jasmine was sultana…instituting her reforms.…Sure, there would be plenty of time for hanging out on rooftops.
Right now she was back at the lair, working on plans to attack the palace. Amur had brought in the lead Alchemaic to discuss explosives. Morgiana had organized the sudden influx of new recruits, dividing them into real troops. Duban was in charge of tactics, along with some new guy named Sohrab, who had defected from the royal guard. Maruf managed the flow of supplies to their incipient army and continued the largesse to families who supported the resistance.
Aladdin was in charge of making trouble, of course. That was why he was leading tonight’s raid.
The wagons stopped their forward motion just inside the city gates.
A girl lying on the ground cried up for them to help her.
“Please, Esteemed Effendi! Give me a ride—anywhere. Even a few blocks to the first empty house you see! So I might seek refuge from the night and the Peacekeeping Patrols!”
That was Aladdin’s cue.
He leapt down lightly, Abu beside him. The drivers—although strangely drawn-looking and hollow-eyed—were predictably more annoyed by the interruption of their routine than concerned for the little girl’s safety. They got down to move her just a few feet out of their way and damn her fate to the patrols.
So Aladdin didn’t feel too bad when Morgiana and Duban slipped out of the shadows behind the drivers and knocked the backs of their heads with silent leather-covered clubs. The plan was to tie them up somewhere after drawing all sorts of strange insignia on their clothes—as if they had been magically subdued by a rival sorcerer. As much as Aladdin didn’t like those who worked for Jafar, he didn’t want to see them lose their lives because they had failed their master.
Street Rats melted out of the scenery, hoisted the guards between them, and disappeared again. Aladdin gently took the reins of the lead camel, whispering and clicking his tongue. A little unnerved by the turn of events, the animals immediately followed their new human master. He would probably, like all humans, give them water and food. Abu leapt onto the back of one and chittered like he was driving the whole caravan himself.
Aladdin led them back out the gate and around the outside wall. If Agrabah was quiet at night these days, the outskirts of the desert were as silent as death. The insects and little chirping lizards and animals that usually called through the dark hours were still. The only noise came from the wind whispering through the dry grasses.
Aladdin found himself shivering despite the heat and was relieved when they came to the crack in the wall where a whole crowd of Street Rats was waiting quietly to unload all the books and artifacts at once in one long human chain. He patted the lead camel on her neck.
“We’ll get you all watered in a moment,” he promised before going to the back of the wagon and throwing open its cloth flaps. There were crates and urns and even western-style barrels sealed tightly for the trip. Someone handed Aladdin a metal-tipped construction hook and he went to work immediately,