there, nimbly leaping once she saw what she was to do.
“Remember the bit about ‘poor’ and ‘stinky’? Uh, I mean, I’m not stinky, but I don’t live in exactly the safest part of Agrabah. I figure it’s better to get off the streets where we might be seen.”
“What’s wrong with being seen?” she asked.
“I don’t know. What’s wrong with not paying for a piece of fruit and then giving it away?”
“I didn’t know…” Her voice trailed off.
“That you have to pay for things?” Aladdin finished, smiling gently.
“All right, it was my first time in a market,” she admitted. “I’ve never actually bought anything before. I never thought about how it was all worked out, prices and money and things. You caught me.”
He couldn’t help looking smug. He had been so right when he’d pegged her as a rich girl in disguise.
But the girl narrowed her eyes and gave him the sort of look he usually expected from the Widow Gulbahar.
“I don’t see a purse of gold coins on you, smart guy. How do you pay for things?”
Aladdin found himself—quite possibly for the first time ever—speechless.
“That’s…clever of you,” he finally said. “But that’s totally different! I only steal because otherwise I’d starve!”
“So it’s all right for you to steal—because you need food. But it’s not all right for me, who didn’t know any better? And was just trying to help a little child?”
Aladdin crossed his arms.
“All right, yes, you are totally and completely clever. Let’s just say that the reason we’re going up here on the roofs is because apparently you don’t know what stealing is, and I do, and I’m used to…that sort of life. Look there.”
He crouched down on the balcony and pulled her next to him. In the shadow of a crooked tower, a small group of children and a couple of teenagers sprawled desultorily. They wore rags and had shadows under their eyes. Two of the youngest tried to play a game with a pebble, tossing it back and forth. The older kids were dusting their arms with ashes. Making themselves look sicker than they were.
“The moment anyone—and I mean anyone—except for another Street Rat comes through here, these guys will leap up and surround him. Or her. Begging.
“And if he—or she—doesn’t give them something, a crust of bread, a coin…or sometimes even if he does, while one child is crying about her hunger, another will be picking that person’s pocket.”
The girl looked horrified.
“They’re all just pretending to be poor?”
Aladdin chuckled wryly. “No, they’re not pretending. They’re not pretending to be poor, or shoeless, or homeless, or starving. All of that is very, very real. But sometimes it takes costumes and makeup and playacting for people to see the truth that is right under their noses.”
She watched the children and he watched her face as she tried to process everything she had just learned. She was innocent; that was true. But there was intelligence in those large eyes. She picked up things very, very quickly. It was more than Aladdin could usually say about those who weren’t Street Rats. What a waste, for some father to trap such a smart, interesting girl behind a garden gate, like a prized animal.…
“Where are their parents?” she asked.
“Dead. Or sick. Or out trying to find work. Or food.”
“Where do they…? Why can’t they…?”
Aladdin watched as she tried to find words for ideas she had never experienced before.
“Why isn’t anything being done about this?” she finally asked, anger in her voice.
“Oh, come on, who cares about us Street Rats?” Aladdin asked, a little more sadly than he meant to. “The sultan stays locked up in his palace, playing with his golden toys all day. He only comes out to observe an eclipse or fly his kites. Who knows if he’s even aware that half his city is starving?”
The girl’s eyes narrowed at his mention of the sultan. He couldn’t tell if she was angry at the sultan as well, or…Well, technically, it was worth your head to say anything bad about the sultan or his household. That never stopped anyone in the Quarter of the Street Rats. There might not have been meat, bread, or water—but there was an endless supply of insults.
He thought she was about to say something, but the girl pressed her lips together with thoughtful finality.
“Come on,” Aladdin said, jumping up and giving her his hand, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s not all bad. We’ve got complete freedom of the streets…and trust me, if you grew