Page 31 of The Wishless Ones
Iago leaped to Rohan’s shoulder and shoved a wing over his face, muffling the rest of his response.
The parrot’s words from before were thunder in Jafar’s ears. He needed access; he couldn’t set off the guard. He needed his brother; he couldn’t set off Rohan.
Jafar reached for his pocket and then paused, reaching for another, pretending to search for the scholarship in a way that said he was oh so certain he had pocketed it but had clearly misplaced it in all the excitement.
“Hmm. See, I applied for admission about eight weeks ago,” Jafar said, straddling that line of being confident yet humble. Honesty was a good way to begin, wasn’t it? He continued searching, and his heart skipped a beat when he brushed against the torn scraps of his scholarship.
A last resort,he told himself.
The guard narrowed his eyes. The breeze carried the din of the early crowds flooding the bazaar from just beyond, further cementing the quiet of the House of Wisdom, the otherworldliness.
“As did thousands of others,” the guard said slowly.
It wasn’t the time and place, but learning that he had succeeded in being accepted from a pool of thousands sent his spirits soaring—and quickly flaring with rage as he remembered, yet again, what his father had tried to steal from him.
Which made it all the more imperative that he get inside.
“I’m sorry, I seem to have misplaced my acceptance letter. Do you have records?” Jafar asked. At this point, it would feel ignoble to pull out the shreds. Who ripped up a scholarship? Who disrespected the written word in such a way? It couldn’t even be brushed off as a mistake. The shreds were deliberately created.
The guard did not look pleased.
“I wrote about improving routes used for trade and transport. Incorporating the use of reeds—”
“To keep goods fresh?” the guard finished, his demeanor shifting from irritated and annoyed to piqued and…excited? The change was instant, in the blink of an eye. Jafar glanced behind him, sure the guard’s zeal was directed at someone else. “You’re the one who came up with the idea?”
“You know of it?” Jafar asked slowly.
The guard laughed and dipped his head. “Guards aren’t typically a part of the application process, but it was the talk of the staff! Brilliant idea, truly. Jamal, isn’t it? No, no, that isn’t right. Jafar!”
Jafar’s eyes widened and he nodded, taken aback by the guard’s enthusiasm. He’d never experienced anything like this before. He looked over with a stupid goofy smile to find a shadow crossing Rohan’s face and a regretful expression on Iago’s.
I told you so,Iago’s look said.
It sent a zing through Jafar’s heart, but he ignored it. He wouldn’t allow himself this confusion. This befuddlement. Not when he finally had a reason to feel proud of himself.
“Yes, I am Jafar,” he said.
The guard laughed uneasily. “I’m certain, but I’m also good at my job and must verify that you really are you. I’ll need other details from your application. Your age, full name.”
As Jafar listed out the details, that he was nineteen years old and that his full name was Jafar ibn Ali al-Abbad, he also found himself slipping into an explanation. “... because the village of Ghurub is so far from here. It was a long journey with no shortage of chaos.”
The guard laughed again, this time in understanding. “I do not doubt it! This is precisely what I needed, though, as I know for a fact that you were accepted. Why, you’re all but a prince within these walls.”
From street rat to prince in a matter of one conversation.
The doors opened with a deafening groan, a glorious sound, somehow symbolic of the journey it had taken Jafar to reach the grand entryway. “Right this way.”
They entered a hall, their footsteps echoing on the dark tiles. A word was painted in calligraphy over and over on the walls, scribed in a pattern that flowed from one end to the other:ilm.Knowledge, indeed,Jafar thought, reminding himself to breathe.
The guard glanced at Rohan. “You’re the brother he mentioned, aren’t you?”
Rohan gave an embarrassed shrug, as if he hadn’t known he was in the application. Which he hadn’t.
“It was quite the essay,” the guard said with a tight smile. His gaze darted between Jafar and Rohan. “But unfortunately, apprenticeship was only granted to Jafar, and that doesn’t extend—”
“He’s only visiting,” Jafar said, leaving no room for discussion. “He didn’t want me to travel on my own, especially across the sea. Once I’m settled, he’ll return back to our village.”
The guard didn’t seem too pleased but finally obliged, turning to lead them through. “If it was up to me, he’d be allowed to stay as long as he would like, but rules are in place for a reason.” He glanced back and paused at the sight of Iago hopping onto Jafar’s shoulder. “Now pets, I’m afraid, are not allowed inside the premises at all.”
