Shadow Spinner by Susan Fletcher Read Free Book Online Page B

then turned to me. “I was certain you’d know it. Though now that seems foolish. And I led him to believe . . . that I knew it. That I would tell it next.”
    I had the strangest sensation then, as if my heart were cracking in my chest, as if it were crumbling apart like dried clay.
    The Sultan abhorred deception. He was famous for it. There was a saying in the city:
like lying to the Sultan.
Eating poison was like lying to the Sultan. Stepping into a nest of cobras was like lying to the Sultan. Plunging a dagger into your heart was like lying to the Sultan.
    I had so wanted to help Shahrazad; I had felt so good
thinking
I had helped her. But I had only made things worse.
    Dunyazad broke the silence. “When? When did you tell him that? Not when you told the story. Not when I was there.”
    â€œWhen he summoned me later this morning. To see our new son.”
    â€œBut why did you
say
that? That you knew the rest of the tale?”
    Shahrazad shrugged. “He seemed so pleased with me . . . with the baby. And he mentioned the tale again. He asked me straight out if I knew it. I didn’t want to displease him. Didn’t
dare!
You know that, Dunya, how careful I have to be.” She turned to me. “When I tell him certain tales, I must do it in the most delicate way, wrapping stories inside of stories, so he can learn without knowing that I’m teaching. Or at least—without either of us having to acknowledge it. And he’s never requested anything from me before now. If I were to refuse him his only request—”
    â€œOnly
request!” Dunyazad cried. “Save that you keep him entertained to his satisfaction every single night, without ever repeating yourself, whether or not you’ve even given
birth
that day, or he’ll—”
    â€œHush! Keep your voice down, Sister! Walls have rats and rats have ears!”
    I cleared my throat; they both looked at me. “Maybe,” I ventured, “since it was so long ago when the Sultan heard the tale, maybe he’s forgotten exactly how it goes. And I could . . . make up a story about Julnar’s son.”
    Shahrazad looked at me wonderingly. “You can do itjust like that?” she asked. “Make up a whole new story?”
    I shrugged. “You can, too.”
    â€œFor me it’s hard. And my stories aren’t very good.”
    â€œBut I’m sure they
are”
    Shahrazad laughed. “I’m human, Marjan—just like you. I’m better at some things than others. But it would be unwise for either of us to make up a story about Julnar’s son. The Sultan will know the right one when he hears it. It’s like that name . . . the name with the two D’s or two
B’s.
When you forget a name like that you don’t really forget it, because when you hear it again you know it instantly. It’ll be that way with this tale. If you came up with something far different from what he remembers—as you’d be bound to do—he’d be suspicious.
Angry.”
    â€œWhat about the other women in the harem?” I asked. “One of them must have heard it.”
    Dunyazad snorted.
“They
won’t help.”
    â€œThey’re . . . afraid of the Khatun,” Shahrazad said. “They live and die at her whim. So they’re very . . . cautious around me.”
    â€œEven though my sister’s saving all their lives,” Dunyazad said. “The young ones, anyway. They’re cowards!”
    Shahrazad sighed. “Well, things are dangerous for them, too.”
    â€œI still don’t understand,” I said, “why the Khatun—”
    â€œShe
hates
my sister!” Dunyazad broke in. “She’s a witch!”
    â€œShh!”
Shahrazad put a finger to her lips.
    â€œWell she is!”
    â€œIf only I could get
out”
I said. “I could find that beggar—I know it. They usually stake out the same places for