The Fire Wish by Amber Lough Read Free Book Online Page B

closer and pressed myself against the wall.
    “Don’t,” said Prince Kamal. “I’m trying to get out of it.”
    The other man chuckled. “Insha’Allah,” he said. It was a human phrase that meant “God willing.” Although I’d heard Faisal say it, it was different hearing a human use it as though he said it all day long, and I grinned despite myself. “I’ll see you at prayers. You have half an hour, by the way. Better get moving.”
    The prince nodded and swept by me. His robes brushedagainst my ankles, and he did smell like cinnamon. Somehow he hadn’t noticed the jinni squashing herself against the wall. It took me a second after he passed to peel myself off and follow again.
    The hall ended in a large, high-ceilinged room. Painted birds and vines climbed up the walls, and ornate plaster relief decorated all that remained. Tall white-and-gold columns divided the space, sprouting up to the ceiling like trees. Between the columns were more men than I wanted to count. They were close together, whispering over each other’s shoulders and debating something written on sheets of paper they shook in the air. Boys ran between them bearing trays heavy with copper pots of coffee. The smell, sweet and bitter, wafted through the columns, carrying with it odd spices Faisal hadn’t yet had me try. Rich, pungent, and masculine. I pressed the mark on my hand.
    At the head of the hall, on a pedestal of rose-colored marble, stood a chair made of gilded peacocks. They reached toward each other, interweaving their necks to create a throne of such metallic poetry that I stared.
    I knew that chair. I’d seen a sketch of it in one of Faisal’s books. It was the caliph’s throne. I laughed, despite the danger of discovery. If there’d been any doubt that I’d gotten into the palace, there wasn’t now.
    The prince was making his way around the older men. He paused, looked at the throne, and then trotted, faster now, through a set of double doors across the room. Everyone moved to let him pass, bowing their heads.
    I wove between the men as quickly as I could and passed through the doors before they closed. I was in another hall now, empty of anyone but the prince, and let out a silent sigh of relief. Any one of those men could have bumped into me.
    The prince had stepped into a hall glimmering in gold foil. He stopped at a set of golden doors and knocked twice.
    “Kamal? Come in,” came a sharp response. I smiled, knowing I’d guessed his identity correctly. The prince reached for the door handle with his free hand and hesitated. Then he shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts, and pulled the door open. I should have stopped there. I should have gone home. Instead, I leaped across the width of the hall into the space behind him.
    The air inside was scented with rose syrup, and the room was completely white. The plaster adornments climbing up the walls were the color of milk. The furniture, made of interwoven reeds, was the same color as the walls. And the plants, which hung suspended from the six windows, had been pruned so that only their pale blossoms remained.
    A man with a robust black beard lay sprawled on a divan. It had to be the caliph. He matched the descriptions and sketches of him exactly.
    “What is it?” he asked. He wore a wide leather belt over his tunic and a ruby-capped dagger. The rubies shone like drops of blood in the blindingly white room.
    I didn’t dare breathe.
    Prince Kamal held out his selenite sphere. “I finally figured it out.”
    The caliph sighed. “Bring it here.”
    The prince strode to the caliph and gave him the sphere. The caliph turned it around, then gave it back.
    “I don’t see how this would work.”
    “You can’t tell at first, of course,” Kamal began, “but see how it’s hollow? We can put it inside, where it’d be protected.”
    “But why this kind of rock? Why not a brass tube?”
    “Because brass isn’t strong enough, and this crystal resists fire. It’s