Alibaba hadn’t picked up Aladdin because he felt sorry for the kid, Cassim decided, as Judar dodged yet another thrown knife with a smirk and a tsk about his aim. Alibaba had picked up the kid because… apples, trees. Birds, feathers. Iron, lodestone. Like pulled to like, and magicians were absolutely insane.
And that didn’t even consider the knives he’d pulled out of palace walls and bedposts and fluffy pillows when Judar hadn’t bothered to dodge. Because for the first few minutes after Cassim had woken up to this red-silk weirdness, the magi had just stood there, grinning, while a shell of glimmering light bounced every last blade away.
He wanted to try the Fogblade on the smirking magician. But that black blade was now in pieces on a table, with a bunch of messy scribbled notes around it that included way too many frowny-faces for his peace of mind. Not to mention gems like nyah, pfui, and linked to at least a couple other things, wonder if they’ll catch on fire if I melt this down….
If the other Fogblades caught on fire and hurt his Troupe, he would slaughter Judar.
…If he could ever catch him.
They’re fine, Cassim told himself, catching his breath. They’ve got to be fine. The crazy’s not acting like he expects me to take him apart, and he can’t be that crazy. And I don’t care how strong the Kou warriors were, Zainab’s smart and Hassan’s determined. And Alibaba was there. He knows what I’d do if he let my people get hurt. The Troupe has to be fine.
“Eh, not bad.” Judar rubbed his chin, sitting in midair as Cassim glared at him. “You’re not up to taking on her big brothers yet, but – not bad. She might like you.”