Shadow Spinner by Susan Fletcher Read Free Book Online

.”
    â€œWhat, Marjan? What did you think?”
    â€œI thought the Sultan didn’t want to hear tales he’d heard before.”
    â€œHe doesn’t want
me
to repeat myself,” Shahrazad said. “That would be tedious. But he doesn’t mind if he’s heard some of the tales long ago. In fact, he
likes
hearing his favorite old tales. So, after I finish with the part you told me, he wants me to tell the rest of it.”
    The rest of it?
    â€œAbout Julnar’s son . . . what happened when he grew up. Shahryar couldn’t remember his name. All he remembered was that it has two parts to it, and both parts start with the same sound. A
D
or maybe a
B
—he couldn’t recall. He’ll be delighted when I tell him.”
    My heart stood still.
The rest of it.
I didn’t know any
rest of it.
I groped back through my memory, trying to remember the name of Julnar’s son—trying to remember
anything
about Julnar’s son other than the things I had already told, about how he was taken down into the sea as an infant, about the magic that made him able to breathe there. I was
certain
I hadn’t heard his name.
    Shahrazad was still smiling at me. She looked eager, happy—so different from the day before. I didn’t want to tell her that I didn’t know what she needed to know. I didn’t want to watch her face, how it was going to change.
    â€œMarjan?” She looked puzzled.
    I took a deep breath. “My lady,” I said. “I am so very sorry. Truly I am. But. . . I know nothing of Julnar’s son other than what I’ve told you. Neither his name nor anything that happened to him after his uncle brought him back from the sea.”
    A breeze rustled in the curtain that draped the lattice. In the distance, I heard a tinkling of chimes. Shahrazad’s face did not change, but rather froze, as if time were no longer flowing, but stood in a quiet pool.
    I glanced at Dunyazad, who also seemed stunned.
    After a long, long moment, Shahrazad leaned forward, held my gaze. “Are you . . .
certain?”
she asked. “Maybe you’ve only forgotten, and it will come to you.”
    I thought back to that day in the bazaar, when I had strayed from Auntie Chavas side and then lost her and wandered from stall to stall until I came upon the blind storyteller. I had listened for a longish while, and then Auntie Chava had found me, scolded me, dragged me away. It had
seemed
as though the tale had ended just when she came. But maybe it hadn’t. Maybe he told more of it later—after I had gone.
    â€œI would
know
it,” I said, “if I had heard it. I’ve sometimes wondered what happened to Julnar’s son when he grew up. If he ever went back into the sea and breathed there. But—”
    Dunyazad leaped to her feet. “The Khatun got to her,” she said to Shahrazad. “I
knew
she would.” She turned to me. “I think you know—you’re just not telling. She threatened you, didn’t she? What did she say?”
    I was struck dumb. How could Dunyazad
think
that? I had thought that she
liked
me. “She . . . she didn’tthreaten,” I faltered. “Not exactly. She wanted to know why Shahrazad wanted me.”
    â€œAnd you told her, didn’t you?”
    â€œNo! I didn’t even know myself, for certain. But. . . It didn’t do any good. To
not
tell her. She knew already.”
    Dunyazad moved toward me. I shrank away, clambered to my feet, stumbled backward, scattering dates and almonds on the carpet. But still Dunyazad came, until her face was just a finger-length from my own. “You’re going to tell us, do you hear me? Everything you know about Julnar’s son. Do you hear me? Do you
hear
me?”
    â€œStop it, Sister.” Shahrazad’s voice was sharp.
    â€œBut she knows!”
    â€œI don’t think she does.”
    â€œYou’re too trusting!” Dunyazad