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| chapter 3 |

As Aladdin ran through the streets he pumped a triumphant fist in the air. That had been close—or at least closer than he liked to play it. But he usually acted alone during a con. At most he had Abu, and Abu was almost an extension of himself. He had never had to outwit Jamal before with a strange servant girl tagging along. Well, not so much tagging along as sort of getting in the way. But he had done it nevertheless. His smile grew broader as he thought back to Jamal's look of disbelief when he saw the bracelet was gone.

Aladdin's footsteps slowed as he turned down the alley and saw the servant girl waiting for him. He hadn't been thinking when he'd stepped in between her and Jamal. It had sort of just ... happened. While he hadn't been able to clearly see the girl's face hidden beneath her cloak, he had seen her hands flutter at the sound of Jamal's angry voice and had been compelled to help. She was clearly not used to the market or to the children who made it their job to beg for scraps among the stalls. But despite that, she had remained composed during the whole thing, her back straight, her head held high. And never once had she tried to give the children up. She had let them go with their bread, even at the cost of her bracelet. It was rare for someone to be kind to the children who made their homes on the street, and a part of Aladdin wondered what it would have been like if someone had done that for him. It had seemed wrong to turn his back on the girl—plus, he did like a good chase. Kept him in shape.

The cloak slid from the girl's head, revealing her face.

And Aladdin nearly stopped breathing.

The servant girl was by far the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her shoulders and her back in thick waves. Her eyes were a deep chestnut color, and her skin seemed to glow from within.

Dragging his attention from the vision before him, Aladdin heard the guards getting closer. They had to keep moving. Reaching out, he grabbed hold of her hand and began to walk swiftly down the alley.

"I wasn't stealing, just to clarify," the girl said a little breathlessly. "Those children were hungry, and he had bread, so I simply—"

"That's called stealing," Aladdin pointed out, cutting her off. "And if they catch you, you'll spend the next three weeks in the stocks!" As they burst out of the alley and into one of the many smaller squares that dotted Agrabah, Aladdin nodded toward a man whose head and arms were sticking out from between two pieces of roughhewn wood. "How you getting along there, Omar?"

The young woman grew pale at the sight of Omar. Aladdin was genuinely surprised. She seemed very sheltered from the harsher realities of life on the streets of Agrabah. And the bracelet? What servant girl would wear such an expensive piece of jewelry—especially into the market? Something wasn't adding up, but he couldn't put a finger on it. Not yet, at least. As if aware of his thoughts, the girl asked, "How much trouble are we in?" The naiveté of her question made Aladdin's suspicions grow.

"You're only in trouble if you get caught!" Aladdin answered wryly. Then, as the guards' shouts echoed behind them, and before the girl could mutter even a word of protest, Aladdin grabbed her hand and began to sprint.

He had been keeping one step ahead of guards his entire life. It was what he had to do. Like the children the girl had given bread to, he had stood in lines, waiting for handouts. He had stolen, not because he enjoyed it, but because he couldn't afford not to steal. He knew the logic was convoluted and people would argue there were other ways to make a life in Agrabah, but he didn't mind it—usually. He always seemed to make it work. Others, unfortunately, were not so lucky, and though he tried to share his wares with those who needed it, he wished he could do more to help.

Like this servant girl had done with the children and the bread.

Rushing up a flight of stairs, then down another, Aladdin paused at the opening of a tunnel he had used as an escape in the past. He glanced quickly behind him. The servant girl was doing her best to keep up, but she was still struggling. A long, dark tunnel would probably just slow them down. And the number one rule when running was not to slow down. Come to think of it, that was also rule two and rule three. Thinking fast, Aladdin knocked on a door as they ran past. A moment later, someone opened it. There was a loud thunk followed by a string of muttered grunts as the guards ran right into the door and fell to the ground.

Aladdin let out a happy shout but kept running. He knew the guards would be back on their feet and after him in no time. That was rule four. Stay ahead of the laymen. They had no patience nor appreciation for the talents of a street rat. Which was ironic, Aladdin couldn't help thinking as he and the servant girl raced out of an alley into one of the main tanneries of Agrabah. Most of the guards had gotten their start on the streets.

"Riffraff!"

Hearing the angry shout, Aladdin jumped up onto a thin walkway that ran over the tannery vats. He and the girl deftly and easily made their way over the huge tubs full of different colors of dye. The guards were not as lucky. They fell, one by one, into the vats, emerging with another round of muttered—and now even more colorful—curses.

"Take that!" Aladdin shouted. He was enjoying himself, minus the name-calling. He was managing to stay ahead of the guards and keep the servant girl safe. In his mind, that was win-win. Rounding yet another corner, he steered the girl through a door and then doubled back, heading toward a cart that was tipped forward and resting precariously on its handles. He quickly grabbed a heavy bag that was lying nearby and then balanced himself on the cart's handles. Just as the guards approached, he heaved the bag into the opposite end of the cart and sent himself flying into the air and onto the safety of the nearby rooftop.

Letting out a deep breath—he hadn't been completely sure that would work—he once again began to run, only this time he leapt from rooftop to rooftop, hearing Abu skitter nearby. Aladdin scanned the windows below and waited until he spotted the one he knew best. Smiling, he took a deep breath and jumped—right through the window!

He heard shrieks and smelled perfume, but Aladdin couldn't see anything. He was blinded by bright, flowing fabric that swirled and twirled about him in a dizzying display. Then he heard a familiar woman's voice shout out his name amid a round of giggles. As planned, he had crashed right into a window of Agrabah's school for girls. He smiled, pulling a piece of fabric away from his eyes. Taking a deep bow, and receiving another round of giggles, he jumped back out the window and proceeded to bounce from one shop awning to the next, all the way back down to the street.

He crashed to the ground, letting out a groan, just as the cloaked servant girl appeared in the doorway. "There are stairs, you know!" she said, shaking her head at Aladdin's disheveled appearance and ragged breathing.

He shrugged, getting to his feet. "But where's the fun in that?" he asked.

Not waiting for an answer, Aladdin once more took the girl's hand and continued on. But no matter where Aladdin led them—down alleyways or up to the rooftops—or how slyly he maneuvered, the guards stayed pretty close behind.

Reaching the top of a particularly high roof, Aladdin slid to a stop. The drop between roofs was now at least forty feet, and the gap between the two buildings was too far to jump without some assistance. Looking behind him, he saw the guards closing in. He glanced at the concerned expression on the girl's face.

And then he saw a long pole. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. It was a long shot, but if the girl was up for it, they had their out right there. Realizing what he wanted her to do, the girl's mouth dropped open. "We jump?" she asked.

He nodded. Handing her the pole, he turned and leapt across to the other side. Once there, he whipped back around—and waited.

But the girl didn't move. She just kept looking down at the ground. "It's a long way down," she said, the pole shaking in her hands. She began to back away.

Seeing the doubt in her eyes, Aladdin tried to focus her attention. "Look at me," he said. "Look at me." When she finally dragged her gaze to meet his, he smiled. "You can do it!"

Taking a deep breath, she backed up as far as she could. Then she took off running. Just before the roof ended, she planted the pole, flinging herself over the gap and landing on the roof beyond. She looked over at Aladdin, surprise and pride filling her face.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

Then Aladdin grabbed an old rolled-up rug that someone had left to rot on the roof. He walked over to the edge of the building and began to swing it back and forth. When he had enough momentum, he let go of the rug. It sailed out of his hands—and right through a window several stories down, smashing the glass into pieces. When the guards arrived, they would think Aladdin had crashed through and go after him.

But they wouldn't find him. Because he had no intention of being anywhere near there when they came. "I know somewhere we'll be safe," he told the girl as the monkey rejoined them and hurried onto Aladdin's shoulder. "Come with me."

Jasmine had never been more exhausted—or elated—in her whole life. She couldn't believe what she had just done. Run from guards? Leapt over forty-foot drops? Trusted a boy she didn't even know? But somehow, it had all just seemed right. Like it had been meant to happen.

And now she was following this stranger into an old tower that looked like it was about to fall down any minute.

"Where are we exactly?" she asked.

"You'll see," the young man replied. Reaching up, he pulled on a hidden rope. A set of wooden stairs appeared. Gesturing for her to follow, he began to climb up.

Despite their decrepit appearance, the steps were surprisingly solid. Her mind racing with curiosity, Jasmine ascended toward the unknown. A few flights up, the stairs ended, and the young man disappeared through a rough doorway. Jasmine followed.

As she walked through the door, her breath caught in her throat. There, in front of her, displayed like one of the paintings in the palace—but better —was the city of Agrabah. One whole wall of the tower had fallen away, resulting in a wide-open expanse. Jasmine had spent her entire life surrounded by the most beautiful things money and royalty could buy, yet she had never seen anything as perfect or breathtaking as the view of Agrabah from this secret beggar's hideaway.

Her smile faded as she saw, in the distance, the guards still on the hunt. Their number seemed to have increased and she couldn't help wondering why so many were needed for what was really a simple misunderstanding. It seemed unnecessary—as was the way in which they were so quick to pull their swords, frightening those in their path. It was a side of Agrabah she had never thought existed, and it saddened her to know now that it did. She had a feeling a certain vizier must be behind it all.

"Abu. Make our guest some tea," the young man said, startling Jasmine. She looked over and saw that he was addressing the monkey. A monkey who, apparently, was not pleased with the request. He shot the young man a look and began to chatter to himself angrily.

"I can't believe ..." Jasmine's voice faded. She wasn't sure why she had started to speak her thoughts out loud.

"What?" the young man pressed. His big, warm eyes looked at her in a way she had never been looked at before. Like he wanted to hear what she had to say next.

She walked closer to the open wall of the tower. For some reason, she felt comfortable telling this stranger what she was thinking. He was easy to talk to. "I can't believe we did that," she said. "That I did that ... that we're alive." She stopped, catching sight of the amused expression on the stranger's face. Her cheeks flushed self-consciously. She had wanted to get outside the palace walls because she had wanted to see what life was really like for her people. She realized, staring around at this man's home—without the comforts she took for granted in the palace ... without walls even—that he probably had to do what they had just done more often than not. "Thank you for getting me out of there." She stopped at that, at a loss for anything else to say.

"You're welcome." The young man cocked his head. "I'm Aladdin. And your name is?"

Jasmine hesitated. She was sure there were plenty of Jasmines in Agrabah who were not the princess, but she didn't want to risk it. "Dalia," she said, thinking quickly. Her handmaiden wouldn't mind if she borrowed her identity temporarily.

"Dalia," Aladdin said, giving her another charming smile. "The talented thief ... from the palace."

Jasmine froze at his words. How had he known she was from the palace? How could he know? She had done everything Dalia had told her to do. Well, almost everything. Minus the whole unfortunate bread incident ... She opened and closed her mouth, not sure what to do or say next.

"Only someone from the palace could afford a bracelet like that," Aladdin went on. "We know you didn't steal it."

The breath whooshed from Jasmine's lungs. He didn't know. At least, he didn't know the most important part. She tried to calm her pounding heart as he continued revealing how he had deduced where she came from.

He looked her over, raising an eyebrow. "You smell good—spiced amber that isn't from around here. That silk lining is imported, too. Those come off the merchant boats and only go to the palace. But not to servants ..." His voice trailed off and his eyes narrowed.

Jasmine's heart, which had finally begun to slow, started racing once more. This was it. He really had discovered her secret. She should run. But she honestly didn't know where to go.

Unaware of her building panic, Aladdin finished his observations. "At least, not most servants." He paused, and Jasmine realized that only now had he figured out who she was. Everything he had said to this point was his way of talking it out. She braced herself.

"So you must be a handmaid to the princess, right?" qObXH8c3yqHQJlW7Yx3tx1GNfMsMifqnymt6IYdViIggr3mKGhMsL+pCEhc6uadP

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