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'"Then one more choice lies before you,’ the fisherman said, as he rose to her feet and took her into his arms. 'Now that the spell is broken, will you have me as I am, or as I was? Will you have a fisherman or a prince to be your husband?"
'"That is no choice at all,’ the water bearer's daughter said. For surely you are both. But if you are asking if I'd like to live in a palace, the answer is no. Let us live in the cottage by the sea,’
"And they did so, and lived in happiness for the rest of their lives. And in this way did the gifts the water bearer's daughter had been born with—her kind heart, her beauty, her bravery, and her honesty—win her treasure precious beyond measure.
"Prince Khasib never did figure out how to open the shell, though he tried every day for the rest of his life. Eventually this pursuit consumed him, and he could do nothing else. When she perceived there was no love in her husband's heart for any but himself, the court lady pined away and died. Khasib never married again, and upon his demise, his kingdom passed to a lazy and foolish cousin."
Shahrazad fell silent. And the only sound that could be heard was the wind as it whispered its way across the sand to murmur among the branches of the date palms.
"Do you know that is the first time I have ever heard you finish a story?" asked Shahrayar.
It was a thing Shahrazad knew well, in fact, though she wasn't about to reveal this.
"So it is," she replied.
"And another thing," said Shahrayar. "Why is it that the kings and princes in the stories you tell are such great idiots while the women are so wise?"
At this, Shahrazad gave a chuckle. "Is it truly so? I had not noticed."
Shahrayar snorted. "It was a long story for such a small piece of cloth. It grows late. I suppose that we should go."
"Yes, I suppose we should," Shahrazad agreed. But for a moment, neither of them moved. Shahrayar lay with his head in Shahrazad's lap. No longer needing her fingers to read the cloth, she combed them through his hair. A great silence seemed to settle over them—as if they had been contained within a bell jar.
And in this silence, Shahrayar suddenly sat up and gathered Shahrazad into the circle of his arms.
"Who am I? I want to hear you say it."
And she answered, "Shahrayar."
At this, Shahrayar's heart gave a great leap, for she had not said that he was king. She had said his name, and that was all.
"Shahrazad," he whispered. "Shahrazad!" Then his lips found hers and neither spoke aloud at all.
The wind returned, and the scrap of cloth her mother had used to bind her wounds so long ago blew from Shahrazad's lap and went racing away across the sand. But neither she nor Shahrayar noticed.
When at last the kiss had ended, Shahrayar said, "Ah! Now I think I understand."
Shahrazad put her head upon his shoulder. "Understand what?"
"Why the kings and princes in your stories are such great idiots."
"And why is that?"
"Because everything about them is greater than that of other men. Another man would have kissed you long ago. He would not have waited so long to satisfy the longing in his heart."
At these words, Shahrazad's own heart began to pound like thunder. 'And how long has your heart longed to kiss me?"
"Since the first day we were wed. How long has yours longed to kiss me?"
"Since that same day," Shahrazad acknowledged.
"I am glad to hear it," Shahrayar answered with a grin Shahrazad could hear in his voice. "For it makes you just as great an idiot as I am."
Shahrazad laughed. And so Shahrayar opened his mouth to ask one thing more: Does this mean that you have come to love me, Shahrazad?
But the words were never spoken, for suddenly a nightbird called. At this, Shahrayar perceived how late it was. While Shahrazad had told her tale, time had seemed to hang like a great golden ball tossed high into the air. But now that she had finished, it swiftly came back down. The sun had already begun to slip below the horizon. Soon it would be dark, and in the darkness, dangerous things could lurk, even in a country such as Shahrayar's.
"Come," he said. "We must go. It is later than I thought."
So together they rose, and Shahrayar put Shahrazad before him on his horse just as before. But this time, she turned so that one of her arms was around his back, and so each held the other as they rode.
Shahrazad fell asleep with the wind flowing over her like silk and her husband's heart beating against her ear like a brass gong.
And in this way they rode back to the palace as the night settled over them like a great dark cloak stitched with silver stars.
Chapter 18
D I N A R Z A D P U L L S A T H R E A D
They returned to find the palace in pandemonium.
When night had fallen and her sister did not send for her, a thousand images of disaster had sprung up like wildfire in young Dinarzad's mind. Chief among them was the fear that King Shahrayar had heeded the whispered rumors that Shahrazad was practicing magic, and the only way to prove himself still a proper king was to put her to death after all.
Even in her agitation, Dinarzad knew better than to go to her father with her fears. Over and over again the vizier had counseled his youngest daughter to remain patient. To trust not only her sister, but also Shahrayar. But even though she had made her limbs obey, Dinarzad had found herself unable to follow her father's advice in the deepest reaches of her heart. For it seemed to her that as long as Shahrayar held Shahrazad's life within his hands, he was not someone who was safe to trust.
So she did not go to her father with what she feared, and even if she had, she would not have found him. For he was still away upon the fool's errand Shahrayar had set for him that morning. And so it came about that Nur al-Din Hasan could not prevent what was to come.
Instead, Dinarzad poured her heart out to 'Ajib, the only person other than her father and sister she had come to trust. In the days since he had come to live in the vizier's household, he and Dinarzad had spent much time together, and she had come to love him well. For the vizier had not treated him like a servant, but rather like the son of an old friend.
At 'Ajib's suggestion, he and Dinarzad set off for the king's rooms, unsummoned. They did not know if they would be let in, for to go to the king's private quarters when he had not called for you himself was a thing unheard of. But Dinarzad's fear for her sister had now become so great that she was willing to risk whatever it took to make certain Shahrazad was safe from harm.
Through the corridors of the palace they walked together, their hearts beating fast—though each for a different cause. For courage, Dinarzad clasped 'Ajib by the hand. What he thought as he walked beside her, he never spoke aloud to another living soul, though this much I will caution you: Not merely by what happens next, but by all his actions may you judge him 'ere this tale is done.
And so at length, Dinarzad and 'Ajib came to the king's quarters and were admitted inside. For even though they had not been called for, none thought their appearance strange. Had they not been summoned for many nights now?
But when they came into the room and found it empty it seemed to Dinarzad that her worst fears were realized. Unable to contain herself, she broke down. Her wild lamentations brought first the guards, and then the chamberlain dashing into the room.
When the chamberlain perceived the king was not where all had believed him to be, he raised the alarm. In a very few moments, all was as chaotic as a sandstorm. And in that maelstrom, only 'Ajib kept his head. He sent a message to his brothers of just one word, and that word was: "Now."