The Forbidden Wish by Jessica Khoury

the pair of us onto its decks, I enchanted the oars and set them rowing, but the wind is against us, and every wave strikes the hull like the slap of a whale’s tail. I’ve always hated the sea. So dark and deep and wet. It swallows things and never lets them go.
    With a shudder, I flick my hand at the oars and speed us up a little.
    It must look as though we’re coming into port like any other ship, which is why I conjured it at such a distance. The story goes that Prince Rahzad rai Asnam, youngest son of the Shah of Istarya, set out to explore and make his fortune. After a terrible run-in with a tribe of vicious maarids, only he and his servant, the lowly but lovely Zahra, survived. Now we limp into the Parthenian port, seeking refuge at the king’s court.
    Alas. I gaze about the beautiful ship and try to decide how best to destroy it.
    â€œAladdin, you may want to stay close to me.”
    â€œWhy? What are you—no! Not my ship!”
    â€œDuck!” I send a torrent of water blasting over his head to snap the mast and rip the sails. Aladdin looks on with dismay.
    A few waves thrown about, some teeth marks in the planks—maarids are particularly nasty biters—and finally a gouge in the hull finish the job. I do the work quickly, fighting nausea all the while. Aladdin looks close to tears as his beautiful vessel is blasted apart.
    Suitably beaten and battered, the
Artemisia
now lurches across the water like a drunken duck. Aladdin and I huddle against the mast and do our best to look wretched, which really isn’t difficult at all, as the rocking waves make me ill and irritable, while Aladdin is withdrawn and pensive. As the final touch, I change our clothes to expensive but torn and dirty robes of silk and damask.
    Aladdin’s appearance is a problem; the princess and her handmaidens have all seen his face, and it’s unlikely we’d be able to explain that away. So I let a bit of magic sink into his features, creating a glamoured mask. It isn’t a foolproof spell—permanently altering his appearance would call for another wish. But it’s enough to discourage recognition. When the princess looks at Aladdin, she will see only a young man who may slightly resemble the thief from the Rings.
    As we wait for the tide to carry us to the harbor, I drill Aladdin on his new identity, making him repeat it over and over until he throws his hands in the air.
    â€œI’m not saying it one more bleeding time, jinni!”
    Miffed, I cross my arms and look away. “I don’t want to end up murdered by one of your jinn-killers.”
    â€œNeither do
I
. Look, I’ve got this all under control.”
    Unconvinced, I give him a doubtful look, and he grins. “Smoky, if there’s one thing I am, it’s adaptable.”
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    And so we arrive in Parthenia, the travel-weary but dashing Prince Rahzad rai Asnam of Istarya and his servant girl. Everything happens in a whirl once we are towed into the harbor. Soldiers whisk us through the city, past gaping crowds, to the palace. There we are handed over to a group of bearded ministers, who ply Aladdin with questions while escorting him through the echoing halls. Aladdin, giving them simple one-word responses, bends his head this way and that, taking in the splendor of the Parthenian court. The palace is marble and sandstone, all smooth curves and vast, empty spaces filled with whispers and roaming peacocks. Rich carpets and tapestries add color to the walls and floor, and we pass many courtyards babbling with fountains. Nobles lurk in the corners, watching and whispering, gathering in a train behind us.
    Aladdin is pulled aside and dressed in fresh clothes, fine silk and cashmere in tones of rich green and gold. I, for the most part, am forgotten, left to shadow my master in silence. I don’t mind a bit. I use this time to scan the palace, searching for some sign of Zhian,