A Whole New World (Disney Twisted Tales) - Liz Braswell Page 0,83

felt his heart thumping harder and harder in his chest—

And then Morgiana caught Aladdin’s eye. Very, very slightly, she nodded her head. Let me go, she was saying. Go on.

“Of course, sir,” Aladdin said, motioning for Duban to release her. “Just make sure I get the credit for the capture.”

We’ll come back for you, he mouthed as the guards dragged Morgiana off between them.

Jasmine tried not to show any emotion as the two ghouls carried her into the ominously lightening sky. Their arms locked through hers, around the elbows, and she stood on their feet; there was no fear of falling. She was just a little chilly in the high night air. But below her, Agrabah was burning.

The Moon Tower had been successfully set aflame; Jafar’s personal rooms were at the top and bottom of the ancient observatory and no doubt there would be things—artifacts, personal mementos, books and scrolls—he would want to save. The plan seemed to be working: whatever he had been hurling at the resistance seemed to have abated for the moment.

The scary glow of ghoulish red dotted the city like a plague that was taking over an otherwise healthy body.

And dawn was not that far off.

To distract herself and keep from panicking, Jasmine snuck a look at the thick, ornate cuffs the ghouls wore. Poor magic carpet. Another victim of Jafar’s war on Agrabah. She wondered if what little sentience it had was still there somewhere in its ripped-up and resewn seams. She wished a silly, girlish wish: that she’d had a chance to really fly on the carpet when it was still a carpet. With Aladdin. Zooming through the night air like she was doing now, but with his warm arms to hold on to and the entire world at their feet. They could have gone anywhere they wanted. They would have been completely free.

They dropped down to land on the Public Balcony, the one where her father used to make speeches, the one where Jafar had murdered him. Now it was a landing pad for the undead soldiers of Jafar’s terrible new army.

As skilled and ungraceful as large, ugly insects, the ghouls hit the floor hard. With wordless pushes from behind, they forced Jasmine before them into the antechamber of the throne room. What few people remained of her father’s staff looked shocked when they saw her standing there, unresisting, chin held high. One chamberlain ran to find Jafar. The rest of them went back to whatever they were doing: drawing up lists, checking off names against maps, and who knew what else. Bad things.

“Jasmine…?”

Jafar strode into the room, resplendent or ridiculous in his black-and-red cloaks, robes, and sashes. He gripped his black cobra staff nonchalantly. But he looked, for once, uncertain.

“I turned myself in, Jafar,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “There have been too many deaths already. I want peace.

“I will consent to marrying you.”

“THIS IS A TRICK,” Jafar declared. He stepped forward to look at her with his neck crooked, like a lizard examining possible prey. “This is a ruse.”

“Oh, sure,” Jasmine said. “Search me if you want, Jafar. I have no magical staffs, genies, rings—I don’t even have a dagger or teeny, tiny crossbow. Or poison dart.”

She opened up her robes in a way that could have been suggestive but was just entirely not. She started to unhook her pants.

“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” Jafar said quickly, holding up his hand and looking around to see if anyone else was watching. No one was. Or at least they had looked away quickly. “But I don’t believe you’ve had a sudden change of heart, Princess.”

“I haven’t,” Jasmine snapped. “I don’t want to marry you. But this is tearing the city apart.”

“You are tearing the city apart,” Jafar snarled, leaning over her. “Everything was fine until your Street Rats began to get uppity. Everyone was safe. No one was starving. There was peace. My Agrabah was a far happier Agrabah than under anyone in your family.”

“With people terrified in their homes, or wearing your brands like goats…no one allowed to go outside at night or speak out against you, and your bands of flying undead patrolling everywhere? That’s not happy. That’s enslaved and imprisoned.”

“I don’t know if everyone would agree with you, Princess. But in any event, consider Agrabah as a test case…for the rest of the world. I’m still working out some of the finer points of my governance.”

“We can talk about the rest of the world later. Half the