The Book of Wonders (6 page)

Up ahead, the docks came into sight, and Zardi quickened her step. At the same moment, she heard footsteps behind her. She bolted forward, fear cutting at her insides, but she was not quick enough.

A heavy hand grabbed her shoulder and held her fast.

Z
ardi swung round, ready to fight, but froze as she found herself staring into a familiar pair of violet eyes. “Rhidan, what are
you
doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question.” He reached out and touched one of her roughly hewn locks. “I almost didn't recognize you. Luckily I spotted your birthday present.” He pointed to her archer's belt. “Where are you going, Zardi? There's a curfew, you know.”

“I am well aware of the curfew.” Zardi grabbed Rhidan and pulled him down behind two barrels so that they were out of sight. “Answer my question first.”

Rhidan's pale face looked guilty and defiant at the same time. “I was going to the docks.” He dipped his head. “This afternoon I arranged to sail to Sabra,” he said. “Sinbad's heading there next and I need to find him. He's the only one who can tell me where the Black Isle is.”

“You're running away?” Anger scorched her insides. “And you didn't even bother to tell me. How could you?”

“Hang on a second!” Rhidan whispered furiously. “You're not exactly tucked up safely in bed.” He paused for a moment and looked her up and down. “Hey, are those
my
trousers?”

Zardi looked away, embarrassment warring with anger.

“Come on, tell me what you're planning,” Rhidan begged, his voice gentle. “I was going to the docks to tell the captain that I wouldn't be leaving with him at first light. That I needed to stay in Taraket with you.”

Zardi felt a swell of warmth go through her. She exhaled deeply, and words began to flow on the same breath. She told Rhidan about the overheard conversation between Baba and the sultan, about Aladdin, the true prince of Arribitha, and how he might still be alive, and why running away to Sabra and finding the secret order of warriors called the Varish was the only way to stop the sultan once and for all.

“I didn't tell you I was going,” she finished, “because I knew you'd insist on coming with me. I couldn't take you into danger.”

Rhidan shook his head. “Zardi, you are my best friend. I go where you go, all right?”

“All right,” Zardi repeated.

Rhidan frowned. “Do you think Aladdin is really alive? And if he is, why hasn't he come back to take the throne from the sultan?”

“I don't know,” Zardi replied. “But if we can find the Varish we can ask them.”

Rhidan chewed on his lip thoughtfully. “After your father was taken, I spoke to Nonna. She told me that she read your future today—that you have a destiny to fulfill and that I had to help you even if it meant leaving her behind.” His violet gaze pinned her to the spot. “Maybe finding the Varish and helping Aladdin to reclaim his throne is your destiny. Let me go with you to Sabra, then we can find Sinbad. I'm sure he'll know about the Varish and the rebellion. We'll save Zubeyda and your father together!”

Hope sparked inside Zardi. She didn't know if she believed in destiny, but Sinbad was well traveled, a man who had really lived. He must know all kinds of people …
people who might even kill for money
. The thought stole through Zardi, as quiet and light-footed as an assassin.
Such knowledge would be more of a weapon than even my bow and arrows
.

“It's a good plan,” was all she actually managed to say.

“I've already found a riverboat that was willing to take me,” Rhidan went on. “The captain said it will take eight days or so to sail down the Tigress and get to Sabra. I'll tell him that you're a friend of mine.” Rhidan got to his feet, quickly scanning the area for the sultan's guards. “You'll get to sail on a boat, and I'm sure he'll let you try cutting the sail or whatever it is you want to do.”

“It's trim the sail, camel brain.” Zardi smiled to herself.

“Come on, then,” he said, and they crept toward the docks. “We're looking for the
Triumph
. The captain's called Assam, and he's setting sail as soon as the sun rises.” Rhidan glanced at the sky, which was turning from black to indigo, and picked up the pace. “Given the fact that he made me pay up front, I don't think tardiness is an option.”

“How much did he charge you?” Zardi asked in alarm, remembering she only had sixty dirhams in her purse.

“Fifty,” Rhidan replied. “But I had to promise to help out on deck as well for that price. It was the cheapest I could find, and he seems like a fair man.” He glanced at her. “I've got some money if you need it.”

Zardi shook her head. “I've got enough, but our dirhams aren't going to last forever once we get to Sabra.”

Rhidan flashed a smile at her. “With my brains and your brawn we'll be fine.” He assessed her for a moment. “What should I call you now that you're a boy?”

“Good question.” Up ahead, she could see the outlines of the moored ships, and she felt a splutter of panic. Very soon she would be leaving “Zardi” behind.

Rhidan thought for a moment. “How about Zee?” he asked. “Short, sweet, and simple.”

“Zee,” Zardi repeated, rolling the new name around in her mouth like a date seed. “I like it.”

“Good, because having a new name is just the beginning, Zee,” her friend replied. “The beginning of our very own quest. The Black Isle is out there somewhere, and so is a way to stop Shahryār.”

A
s the inkiness of night had surrendered to the orange of dawn, the
Triumph
had unfurled its triangular sail, raised its anchor, and set off downriver. Zardi remembered what it had felt like two days ago standing at the prow of the boat and breathing in the sharp, ironlike smell of the Tigress as they left Taraket. The breeze off the water had lifted up the blunt tendrils of her hair and the sensation of the wind brushing her nape had been an unfamiliar but welcome distraction from the ache in her heart.

Images of Baba, Nonna, and Zubeyda had filled her head, urging her to look back at the city and its winding streets that smelled of charcoal and baking bread. Instead, she'd fixed her gaze downriver, where the water was wide and straight. She couldn't push thoughts of those she loved out of her mind, but her quest to save her sister and Baba would not be solved by looking over her shoulder—the answers were ahead.

The sound of retching and the sight of a silver head bowed over the side of the boat dragged Zardi from her memories.
Poor Rhidan
. For a second she considered leaving her perch on the boat's railing and going over to him, but she stopped herself. Rhidan had made it clear,
several times
, that if he was going to be sick, it would be on his own. She really didn't feel like getting her head bitten off again.

They had been sailing for well over two days now, and Captain Assam said that they'd be in Sabra in six more.

Zardi hugged herself. Just thinking the word
Sabra
made her light-headed. Sabra, the harbor town, marked the juncture where the Tigress River met the ocean—the sea she'd imagined but never seen. She frowned as she suddenly recalled how Rhidan refused to even entertain the possibility that Sinbad might have already left Sabra, let alone discuss how they'd find the captain in a port ten times busier than Taraket.
But find him we must
, she thought.
Because once we've docked there will be only eighty-one days until the Hunt
. Zardi just hoped that Rhidan was right and that Sinbad would have some idea of how to find the Varish warriors and that they would be strong enough to defeat a man who was constantly guarded and had the command of a whole army.

“All right there, Zee?” Captain Assam asked, waddling up to her, his significant girth undulating in harmony with the movement of the small boat.

“Good, thanks.” Zardi smiled into the captain's wrinkled face. Her new name had quickly become familiar, but a part of her still couldn't believe she was actually managing to pass herself off as a boy.

“You're doing a lot better than your friend.” Assam chuckled as he looked over at Rhidan, who was still hanging over the railing making rather hideous gagging noises. “You know, once he gets on a bigger ship the seasickness will go. He won't feel the movement of the water as much.”

“I hope so,” said Zardi. “Otherwise, our careers as deckhands might be over before they even begin.” Her cheeks burned as she told the lie. She and Rhidan had not told Captain Assam or his two crewmen, Rakin and Hakeem, who they really were. To them, Zee and Rhidan were just two friends heading to Sabra, looking for a permanent job on a ship.

Assam looked out at the river, his graying hair ruffled by the breeze. “Not everyone is cut out for a life on water, Zee. Some say it is no better than being a worm on a splinter of wood, but for me there's nothing I love more.” He patted the rail of the boat affectionately. “She's called the
Triumph
because owning her, all twelve arm spans of her, is the biggest triumph of my life.”

Zardi nodded. Over the last couple of days she'd really become quite fond of the captain. He could talk for hours about sailing and the sea. She loved listening to his amazing tales of enormous ocean-dwelling beasts and mysterious islands.

She smiled to herself. Two days ago, when she'd first stepped onto the boat with Rhidan, the captain hadn't been quite so friendly, but once Zardi had willingly offered to scrub the deck he had become more friendly. Now, Assam readily showed her how to steer with the tiller.

“We'll be approaching the marsh soon.” Assam pointed up ahead. “If you like, I'll let you steer all by yourself.”

“Really—”
The pitch of her voice made her break off. It was
way
too high. Over the last three days she'd mastered her boy's voice well enough but somehow always forgot to use it when she was excited. She gave a little cough to cover the awkwardness. “Will it be difficult?” she finally managed to ask in a much lower octave.

“It can be tricky,” the captain replied. “You don't want to get too near to the bank or the rudder will get caught up in reeds, but at the same time you need to keep a lookout for pirates. The marshes are their favorite hunting ground. They know boats aren't going anywhere fast.”

They walked down the deck and Zardi took up the tiller. The captain's last words niggled at her. More than once Assam had mentioned that pirates operated on the Tigress River, but she wondered if he might be exaggerating just a
tiny
bit. The river could be eerily quiet at points, but whenever they did come into contact with other sailors, they'd been friendly and as keen to exchange stories as goods.

Up ahead, Zardi could see that the river was becoming murky. As the boat plunged into the brackish marsh water, it instantly slowed, almost as if they were sailing through rice pudding.

“I feel abysmal,” Rhidan groaned as he staggered over to join Zardi and the captain at the tiller.

“At least you're not throwing up anymore,” she replied, swatting a fly from her face.

“That's because there is nothing left to throw up,” her friend grumbled. “Besides, people on the riverbank kept on waving at me. I felt like a real idiot.”

“Those are the marsh people,” the captain explained. “They know these waters like the backs of their hands. They're an extremely private race—you should be honored that they waved at you.”

Rhidan dropped his shoulders wearily. “Right now, I'd be honored if I could stand upright for longer than ten seconds without feeling nauseous.”

“Why don't you sit down and watch some of my expert steering,” Zardi suggested teasingly. “You might learn something.”

Captain Assam chuckled. “That's the spirit, my boy.

Show your friend what you can do.”

Rhidan's dimples appeared. “Yes, my
boy
.” Zardi noticed that he dragged out the last word mischievously. “Let's see what you're capable of.”

She took Rhidan at his word and began navigating the
Triumph
through the marsh. Her hands trembled on the tiller, but she made sure that her face remained composed and her voice steady as she instructed Assam's crew to let the sail out a little.

“Sure thing, Zee,” the crewman named Rakin hollered, loosening the rigging, while Hakeem scaled the main mast and dealt with the sail at the top. It was a good call, and the wind caught the triangular sail perfectly and propelled them swiftly downstream, cutting through the soupy water.

Captain Assam's face was filled with admiration. “You've the makings of a fine sailor, Zee. Well done.”

Zardi grinned and ran her hands over the hard wood of the tiller. She couldn't believe she was really steering a boat. Her life had changed so much in just three days.

“Captain,” Hakeem shouted, still atop the mast. “There's a boat in trouble.” He pointed upriver. “They're flagging us down.”

Zardi looked along the length of their vessel and saw the outline of a small boat, no more than six arm spans, by the riverbank. As they got closer it became clear that the boat had been caught by the reeds. A distraught-looking young man stood on the deck, gesturing frantically at them.

“Oh dear,” Rhidan commented. “Somehow, I don't think that this guy is as good at sailing as you, Zee.”

“What should I do, Captain?” Zardi asked, looking at Assam. She was surprised to see deep worry lines scoring the old man's brow.

“We're not stopping,” the captain replied. “I will not become an easy target for pirates.”

Zardi bit down on the words of disagreement that rapidly formed in her mouth. If she was serious about passing herself off as a sailor she'd better get used to not arguing with the captain.