“That crazy magi knows you,” Zainab flung at Sinbad, deliberately ignoring redheaded and snow-haired death by his sides. “You’re the reason he’s here. So it’s your fault he grabbed the Boss. If that psycho knew about Alibaba’s other brothers – that princess wouldn’t have let him get away. She would have taken him, over your dead bodies.” Sorry, kid, Zainab thought, hearing the whispers as those few in the Fog Troupe who didn’t know finally got clued in on who Merhdad really was. We both know it’s true. Kou gets their hands on you, you’re a hostage.
Masrur folded his arms. “Not easily.”
Some of the color had come back to Alibaba’s face. “But if they don’t want to start a war with the Seven Seas Alliance – you’re not ready to fight them, either,” he concluded. “So what are you planning?”
A masterful upward flick of violet brows. “What are we planning? Well-”
“Not we. You. Cassim’s Fog Troupe business.” Alibaba got the words out like they hurt him. “I’ll help, but-”
“You’re leading us,” Zainab snapped. “I don’t care if the Boss won’t like it. We need him back, in one piece – and you’re the one who can make it happen. The Boss can scream and throw things at us later. If he had his head on straight he’d know we need a plan. And your plans work.”
Alibaba swallowed. “Not always.”
“Then you make this one work.” She stalked across the room to thump his shoulder, picking the one that didn’t have a bruise. “Go check on your friend. And get those wounds clean. We’ve got questions for the guy who knows the magi.”