Chapter 1
Nahlah
”Stop! Thief!”
”Excuse me!” I exclaimed, dashing through the bustling square of the marketplace, a sack of pilfered clementines slung over my shoulder. Ironically, I was being chased for stealing from a vendor notorious for cheating the poor—while the crook himself faced no consequences.
”You can’t outrun the law!” the burly figure shouted, blustering through the crowd behind me.
”I’m not outrunning the law, Marwane, just you!” I called over my shoulder. ”Don’t you have more important things to do? Pick on someone your own size!”
His bushy mustache twitched above a fierce scowl as he pumped his arms furiously, attempting to gain speed. Marwane was a familiar foe I often encountered on my escapades, and fortunately for me, his portly frame was ill-suited for the chase. The gold kaftan he wore—part of the royal guards” uniform—looked comical as it flapped wildly around his knees, the sword at his belt clunking against his side.
”Come back here!” he shouted, his chechia turban unfurling with each bounding step, revealing his sweat-slicked brow.
”Besslama!” I waved cheekily over my shoulder. Moving effortlessly through the crowd, the liveliness of the bazaar surrounded me—the shouts of shopkeepers selling their wares, the laughter of children playing, the sound of music, and the scents of delicious food cooking.
A trio of men danced rhythmically in the square to the delight of onlookers, one strumming a gimbri and another drumming enthusiastically on a bendir. Though our chase disrupted the flow of traffic, no one seemed eager to stop me. If anything, their subtle shifts made my escape easier, a path they closed as soon as Marwane tried to follow.
”Causing trouble again, Nahlah?” I skidded to a halt at Amu Salah’s voice, grinning at the elderly spice shopkeeper. As cumin, cinnamon, saffron, and a host of other spices overwhelmed my senses, my stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten today.
”Trouble?” I asked innocently. ”I would never!”
”Ah, so Marwane worked himself into a frenzy over nothing?” he teased, eyeing the bag of fruit.
”Oh, these!” I smiled brightly. ”They’re borrowed from a merchant who needs to learn fairness.” Reaching inside, I dropped a few clementines into his hands. ”Consider it an act of justice!”
”I”m warning you, thief!” Marwane bellowed, barreling straight through a group of children playing jump rope.
”Go on, binti, before you draw that oaf’s attention my way!” Amu Salah laughed, the lines on his face deepening as I waved goodbye.
Weaving between stalls and ducking beneath awnings, vibrant colors blurred around me—rich reds, bright blues, pretty purples, lush greens, warm yellows, vivid oranges, and soft pinks. As I raced through the bustling section of the marketplace lined with food vendors, the enticing aroma of freshly baked khubz, sizzling meats, and delectable pastries tempted me. I longed to get a brochette from the grill of a nearby stall—the lamb kebabs were among my favorite foods—but there was no time.
”Lalla Nahlah!” Leaning out the window of her bakery, a grinning Khaltu Jameela beckoned, a paper bag in hand. ”I heard Marwane yelling and knew you’d be here soon!”
”Shukran, Khaltu!” I thanked her, taking the bag before kissing her hand respectfully.
”Don”t get caught,” she warned.
”I won”t!” I promised, leaving clementines on the windowsill before slipping away. The smell of recently fried sfenja made my mouth water, and as I peered inside at the golden, fluffy treats, I felt the urge to eat them all right there. However, I resisted, as Alauddeen would never forgive me if I didn”t share.
Preoccupied with the doughnuts, I failed to notice the cart laden with heavy bolts of fabric until I stumbled over the protruding wheel. My feet tangled beneath me, and as I hit the ground—rolling to absorb the impact—I caught sight of Marwane storming toward me. He was close enough now that I could hear the ominous sound of his sword sliding from its sheath.
Before I could regain my footing, the vendor whose cart I’d tripped over swung one of the hefty rolls of cloth around. It collided with Marwane’s stomach, causing him to double over with an audible ”oomph” before he toppled to the ground. I let out a gasp of laughter as I scrambled to my feet, the man giving me a conspiratorial smile.
”Better get going,” he urged, before turning to offer his most sincere apologies to the groaning guard.
Seizing the opportunity, I bolted, quickly assessing the distance between me and the wall ahead. With a burst of speed, I sprinted toward it, leaped, and grabbed the edge, effortlessly pulling myself over and landing gracefully on the other side.
As I approached our shop, Alauddeen was finishing up with a customer, wrapping a bracelet in blue paper. A quick, reproving glance was his only acknowledgment of my arrival as I sidestepped his hulking frame and dropped onto a stool. His stern face broke into a tight, business-like smile as he gave the woman her package, accepting a handful of soltars in return. Without even waiting for her to leave, he spun around, glaring at me with his perpetual scowl in place.
Clad in a plain white jubbah, he towered over most, his brawny figure commanding attention. Black hair fell messily over his forehead, his rugged face marked by a jagged scar cutting through his left eyebrow and down his cheek. If he weren’t my brother in all but blood, he would intimidate even me. But beneath his tough exterior was a heart of gold. He was fiercely loyal, protective, and caring, with a kindness that ran deep.
”You’re late,” he grumbled, smoothly catching the clementine I tossed him. ”Trouble again?”
”Marwane was in high spirits today,” I replied, tugging open the bakery bag. ”Do you think he”s finally taking his job seriously?”
”Nah, you’ve just become more of a nuisance,” he retorted, the briefest smile tugging at his lips as he began peeling the fruit.
”Hey!” I laughed, eagerly biting into the powdered sugar-topped doughnut. ”How did it go this morning?”
”Sales were okay,” he said, popping a clementine slice into his mouth. ”There was a delivery earlier if you want to prepare.”
”Oh!” I exclaimed, swiveling in my seat and surveying the new stock with interest. Our shop was an ever-changing treasure trove, boasting everything from clothing, jewelry, purses, instruments, and potions, with new items arriving daily. Not only did we feature products from all over the realms, we also proudly sold handcrafted goods made by the talented members of the Mirage. Despite our impressive inventory, however, it was the unique tales I spun that drew in our affluent target audience—those with money to spare. They paid handsomely for such coveted items while remaining oblivious to the others relieving them of their possessions.
”Hopefully, the Princess”s reveal will bring in more customers.”
”Speaking of, try not to provoke Marwane or the other guards,” he warned. ”Guests are arriving from the other sultanates, and security is tightening.”
”I don’t provoke them!”
”You have a talent for provoking everyone, my dear ukhti.” Shaking his head, he got to his feet, snatching up the half-empty bag of sfenja.
”Hey!” I protested through a mouthful of my third one.
He glanced at me, snorting in amusement. ”You have sugar on your nose.” With that, he stepped out of the shop, blending in seamlessly with the crowd.
Once my nose was sugar free, I reached under the table to retrieve my satchel, pulling out the new book Amu Sinbad had gifted me: Pride and Prejudiced Pixies by Jane Austenova. Unfortunately, I’d barely spent any time with Mr. Fitzwillow Darkwood and Miss Elizabelle Bennettle before the first customer appeared—a man exuding an air of self-importance.
”How much?” he asked, his gaze fixated on an elegant scarf hanging above me.
”100 soltars,” I replied, anticipating the haggling.
His scoff was immediate. ”100! I will give you 20, and that’s generous.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. ”I won’t part with it for less than 95.”
”25, take it or leave it.”
”I will leave it!” I smiled, turning back to my book. The scarf was a masterpiece Kenzie had spent six months handweaving, using the finest sandsilk in a range of jewel-toned colors. I refused to sell it for a pittance.
”Very well,” he gritted out. ”I will give you 40. You’re getting a bargain.”
Sighing, I placed my book aside, skimming a glance over him, trying to discern the best story to use. His meticulously groomed beard had gold sandsilk threaded through it, and the scent of pricey sandalwood attar wafted across the counter. The ostentatious orange jellaba that covered his portly frame was a limited-edition by a realm-renowned seamstress. Even her plainest garments sold for enough soltars to feed an entire village.
Clearly, he didn’t like missing out, and he had the money to support him.
Pulling the scarf from its hanger, I met his gaze. ”You are receiving the bargain, sidi. I shouldn’t have it out for sale, but circumstances have forced my hand.” I sighed heavily. ”It belonged to the crown princess of Zalfiri, who fell in love with a visiting gatekeeper.”
He narrowed his eyes. ”The Zalfirian royals aren’t welcoming to strangers.”
”Correct,” I nodded. ”Only his position encouraged them to open their home. He didn’t intend to stay longer than it took to rest and replenish his weapons—until he saw the Princess. Fresh from the gardens, she was a vision of loveliness, with a healthy glow on her cheeks as she admired her bouquet.” I paused, smiling. ”Legend has it that their love at first sight sent tremors throughout the entire realm.”
A dreamy sigh caught my attention, and I glanced up, realizing a small crowd had gathered, captivated by the power of my storytelling. Raising my voice for the growing audience to hear, I continued, ”They were inseparable, and not a night went by where they didn’t spend it in each other’s arms. Unfortunately, he was called away on his final quest as an active gatekeeper, promising that when he returned, they would celebrate their nuptials with the entire realm in attendance.” I frowned solemnly, trying to hide my smile as Ziyad stealthily removed the man”s gold pinky ring. ”But his journey wasn”t easy, with perilous encounters at every turn.”
”What happened?” my original target asked, his eyes wide.
”He encountered every creature banished into the void, skillfully defeating them,” I continued, my voice gaining intensity. ”He bravely fought against the ferocious pirates of the star realm, faced the turbulent skies stirred by the giants in the World Above, and ultimately came across a savage elemental storm composed of all six elements. By then, his powers and weapons were completely depleted,” I paused for effect, letting the weight of the story sink in, ”and he lost control of his vessel, falling overboard.”
A collective gasp rippled around me.
”Did he die?!” a teenage girl wearing a sparkling kaftan covered in actual diamonds cried out, failing to notice Shams plucking the ruby earrings right off her ears.
”What happened to the Princess!” a woman dripping in jewelry demanded, oblivious to Amanah lifting the emerald-encrusted necklace from her neck.
”Patience, my friends,” I laughed. ”I will get there!” To further build the suspense, I took a leisurely sip of water, fully aware of the anticipation nearly bursting from them. ”The Princess”s devastation touched the hearts of all who heard her cries. Nightly, she ascended the highest tower’s turret, searching for her beloved.” I glanced at each captivated face, meeting their gazes solemnly. ”One night, a shooting star plummeted from the sky. Upon feeling the echoes of his powers within, she knew this was his last farewell. Ordering the star to be made into the most beautiful thread, she wove this scarf with her own hands, wearing it daily to have him and his protection close to her.”
Picking up the garment, I felt the audience collectively lean in, following my every move with bated breath as I traced the delicate stitching. ”It has remained in our family for generations, waiting for someone worthy of its protection.” I fixed the man with an intense look. ”And it seems I have finally found him.” His expression morphed into one of complete elation as I leaned in closer. ”Tell me, sidi, what is a fair price for such an exquisite piece?”
With trembling hands, he emptied his entire money bag onto the counter. ”Three hundred soltars,” he announced firmly, reverently picking up the scarf.
”Shukran for your generosity!” I beamed, tucking the tokens into the purse at my waist. He nodded absently before walking away, looking slightly dazed.
My storytelling gift had that effect on others.
”What about me?” the semi jewelry-clad woman—who was now missing her necklace, two bracelets, and one earring—demanded angrily. ”Surely I deserve such an honor more than he!” A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd, and I raised a hand in the air, silencing their disgruntled rumblings.
”Do not worry! There are more treasures I have been saving for those of your worth and status!” I appealed to their pride, quickly sweeping whatever items I could reach into the center of the counter. ”For you, lalla,” I addressed the woman. ”I think this piece of jewelry will please you.” I lifted a silver ring with a gaudy display of oversized gemstones up to her eye level, and immediately, longing took over her features. ”This ring is crafted from the sands of the Hidden Oasis, which turn into pure moonstone when exposed to the light of the twin moons once every century...”
”…and it contains the essence of true love’s first kiss. Surely your beloved deserves such a gift?” I smiled at the lovesick young man wearing a silk jellaba, the neckline and cuffs adorned with tiny diamonds, an obnoxious display of his wealth.
”I’ll take it!” he exclaimed, pulling multiple five hundred soltar notes from his front pocket, almost triple my asking price. ”Keep the rest.”
”Shukran!” Feeling generous, I packed the silver necklace with its pendant of glistening rubies into a complimentary velvet pouch. Once he dashed away, eager to gift it to his lady love, I closed up shop, pleased with today’s progress. My purse couldn’t hold even one more soltar, and my heart felt lighter, knowing that tonight, many wouldn’t go hungry.