Images of Sand by Sedeara --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dedicated to all those Sadiras out there;
Don't ever give up! : ) ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note: This story takes place shortly after the episode "Which Way Did She
Go?", thus, the references to her "change of character".
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Prologue

Oh Yes, I have learned Only too
well, That all does not always
go According to plan.
For if it did, You'd see a different person, And I would have my man. I could be the one With
everything to gain, I could be the
one Who didn't know pain.
I would be the Princess On the throne, And
never again Would I be left
alone. But what do I know?
These are only dreams, Made from playing with sand, And harmless schemes. But I read this spell, That I have overlooked, And think about how maybe . . . And I have to smirk. For this time, It
will work!

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        Sadira
restlessly paced the underground cavern that was now her home, and the place where the Ancient Secrets of the Sand were
kept.  She held the key to their power,
which she knew she would need in its full force.          "I have
to make Aladdin love me!"  she said.  Her voice echoed off
the walls of the empty cavern.  "Never mind that
my last spells didn't quite work out as
planned.  I'm not giving up that easily!"          Sadira had
tried before to win Aladdin's heart but never succeeded. She
had met him before she possessed the Ancient Secrets of the Sand
when she had stolen a bite to eat, for she had no
money, and he had come to her rescue.  He
told her that he, too, had been in trouble with the guards for stealing.  She had decided then that they belonged
together.          She had been
sure they would be together . . . that is, until she discovered
that Aladdin was engaged.  His fiancee wasn't
just any girl either; she was Princess
Jasmine, heiress to the Sultan's kingdom.  At first, Sadira felt
she couldn't compete with that, but that was
before she discovered the Ancient Secrets of the Sand.  Though she had tried and
failed, now she was sure that she could make
him fall in love with her.  One way or another . . .  

        
"Genie, how do I look?"  asked Aladdin as he turned away from a
cracked mirror in his hovel.          "Oh, Al, you
look absolutely dashing!"  remarked Genie.          "Are you
sure?  I want to look just right,"  he said, straightening his
turban.          Princess
Jasmine had invited him to the palace ballroom for a night of dancing.  He had been engaged to her for over a year, but
he still felt the need to impress her. 
After all, she was royalty.          "You do
look just right!" Genie assured him.          "Oh, Aladdin,
you look soooo handsome!" 
Iago did his best Princess Jasmine
voice.  Abu burst out laughing.          "You guys,
this isn't funny!"  said Genie reproachfully. "Can't you see
how nervous poor Al is?"          "I'm not
nervous!" said Aladdin, but the look on his face spoke differently.  "Why would I be nervous?  We'll just be
dancing."          Iago laughed
and asked, "How well do you dance, Mr. Romantic?"          "Well . . . I
. . ." Aladdin stammered.          "Ha-Ha! 
You don't know how to dance!" laughed Iago.          The Genie put
his arm around Aladdin.  "Oh, don't worry kid, all ya have to do is move your feet around."          "I didn't say
I couldn't dance!"  Aladdin cried defensively.          "Hey, kid,
it's time to wake up and face a hard fact:  You can't be good
at everything,"  said Iago.          Aladdin
sighed.  "Iago, you're right; I can't dance, and I am
nervous.  What if I step on her toe, or her
dress or something?"          "Don't worry
about it!"  reassured Genie.          "I can't help
it.  Maybe you could teach me now; Real quick!"  Aladdin
looked hopefully at Genie.          "No time
Al.   You're suppose to be at the ballroom soon," reminded
Genie. "But don't worry.  Jas loves
you.  She isn't going to get mad if you step on her dress or toes a few times.  Hey, she probably
won't even notice."          Iago laughed
again. "You mean a few hundred times!"          Trying to
ignore him, Aladdin looked himself over in the mirror one more time, and then left for the palace.  

        
Jasmine stopped in the throne room on her way to the ballroom.  She
stood before the Sultan and straightened her
gown.  "How do I look, Father?"          "Oh, my! 
You look beautiful, my dear,"  he replied.          She truly did
look lovely.  She was wearing a magnificent lavender dress of silk.  The skirt flowed out, making it perfect
for dancing, and was studded with tiny
glittering diamonds.  Her hair had been pulled elegantly on
top of her head. Diamond earrings dangled from her
ears, and on her feet were silk
slippers.          She began
dancing around the room.  "Oh, Father it will be so
romantic! Just Aladdin and me!  Lately it's been
so busy, we haven't been able to do much
together, and when we are together, we're always with Iago,
Abu and Genie.  I have nothing against them;
they are really fun to be with . . . most of
the time.  It's just that . . . well . . . I don't know." Jasmine
blushed.          "Of course, I
understand."  The Sultan smiled.          "Well, I'll be
in the ballroom!  I'll see you later!" Jasmine happily rushed out of the room and down the hall, her slippers not
making a sound on the marble floor.
 

        
Aladdin arrived at the ballroom before Jasmine.  It was empty
besides the musicians and a table set for
two.  Candles lit the room, and their flickering light reflected on the walls and floor.
        
Jasmine came up behind Aladdin and tapped him on the shoulder. "Aladdin."          He turned
around.  He knew Jasmine was beautiful, but as she stood before him in the candlelight, he thought she looked
more so than ever.          "You look
beautiful,"  he whispered.          "Thank
you."          The musicians
began playing.  Suddenly Aladdin was nervous again. Growing
up in the streets had never allowed him the chance to learn dancing
. . . at least, not the finer style that Jasmine
would be accustomed to.          "Come on,
Aladdin."  She pulled him out to the middle of the floor.          He put one arm
around her waist and held her hand with the other, but his knowledge ended there.  He began to move his feet in
time to the music, but he felt awkward,
especially compared to Jasmine's graceful movements.          Then he did
what he'd dreaded: stepped on her toe!  Feeling stupid, he
glanced at Jasmine to catch her reaction.
        
"Sorry,"  was all he could think of to say.          Jasmine
smiled.  "It's all right, Aladdin."          They continued
the dance for a few more minutes, then Jasmine suddenly stopped, bringing Aladdin to a halt as well. 
"Jasmine, is something wrong?"  he
asked.          "No."
        
"Then why did you stop dancing?"          Jasmine
laughed.  "I stopped dancing because I can't move; You're stepping on my dress."          Aladdin
couldn't remember a time when he had been more embarrassed.  It hadn't even been more than one song, and
he'd already proven his lack of grace.
         He
moved his foot.  "Sorry again."          Iago, who was
watching with Abu and Genie from the doorway, roared with laughter.  "It's only been five minutes, and the
kid's already making a fool of
himself!"          "Oh, poor
Al,"  said Genie sympathetically.          Abu wasn't
paying attention to Iago or Genie.  He was interested in the
diamonds on Princess Jasmine's dress.  Abu,
whose biggest weakness was sparkling jewels,
was sure that she wouldn't mind if he took just one. Even
though Genie had made Iago and him promise not to
disturb Aladdin and Jasmine, he couldn't
resist.          He quietly
scampered across the floor and stopped beside Jasmine. His eyes wide and shining, he reached out his paw, grabbed
onto a diamond and tried to pull it off. 
But the jewel was sown tight.          Feeling the
tug on her dress, Jasmine looked down, wondering if Aladdin had stepped on it again.  She was surprised and a
bit annoyed to find Abu there.
        
Aladdin noticed, too.  "Abu!  What are you doing?"          Abu looked up,
startled.  He began to squeak out his defense.          Just then,
Genie noticed that Abu was out on the floor and rushed out after him.          "Sorry, Al,"
apologized Genie. "I guess I should be keeping a better eye on 'monkey-boy'."  He scooped up Abu and carried him
back to the doorway, shaking his finger and
scolding him with, "Bad, bad monkey!"          Aladdin sighed
as he watched Genie carry off Abu.  "Jasmine I'm sorry; I told them to stay out of our way."  He felt as if
all he was doing tonight was
apologizing.          "Oh, it's
fine,"  she replied.  "Come on, let's dance."          "Um . . .
Jasmine, I'm sorry; I know you love to dance, and you're wonderful
. . . but you must feel pretty stupid next to me, huh?"  Aladdin
said.          "What do you
mean?"  she asked.  "I don't feel stupid."          "Well,
I do.  You've probably already noticed that I can't dance. 
I don't know the slightest thing about
it," he admitted.  "I'm sorry if I ruined your expectations for the evening--"          "Aladdin,"
Jasmine interrupted gently. "I invited you here tonight because I like to be with you, not to critique your
dancing."  She kissed his cheek
reassuringly.  "Besides, I thought you were doing fine."         
"Really?"          "Sure . . .
but if you want me to, I could teach you . . ."  she offered.
        
"It'll take me forever to catch on," said Aladdin doubtfully.          "No it won't;
Besides, we have the whole night.  Now, watch my feet, and move yours the same way.  And count like this:
1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4.  Each time you say a
number, move your feet.  I'll count with you.  Ready?"
        
Aladdin nodded.          "Okay,
1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4."  Aladdin counted with her and attempted to
mimic her movements, but he still felt like he wasn't
doing it right.          "What am I
doing wrong?"  he asked.          "Go like
this.  Remember, backward, to the side, other side, forward,
backward, to the side, other side, forward. 
Just keep doing that."  She demonstrated.          "Okay. 
Backward, to the side, other side, forward, backward, to the side, other side, forward,"  he murmured.  He kept
his eyes on his and Jasmine's feet.  Just
as he started to get the hang of it, the song sped up.  It
was harder to keep up with it, and he began to trip
over his own feet.  Better my
feet than hers,  he thought.  He burst out laughing at his own
clumsiness, making it even harder for him to
dance.          His gaze moved
from their feet to Jasmine's face.  She was trying to stifle a giggle, but when she saw Aladdin laughing, she
couldn't hide it any more.          She quickly
looked up at Aladdin, to make sure she hadn't hurt his feelings, but she didn't have to worry.  He knew she was
laughing with him and not at him. 
Aladdin was laughing so hard that he tripped and almost fell on the floor.  The matter wasn't even that humorous, but
just that they were sharing it made it that
much more funny.  Soon they were both doubled over. Jasmine
had to lean on Aladdin's arm just to keep from falling down.          Jasmine led
Aladdin away from the dance floor, and they sat on one of the marble benches against the wall.  They stayed there
until they calmed down, and then they didn't
go dance again because the song was nearly over.          The next song
started.  This one was slower.  Aladdin got up, bowing
to Jasmine.  "May I have this dance?"  He
held out his hand for hers.          "Of
course."  She smiled and gave him her hand.  "Dancing to slow
songs is much easier,"  she assured him. 
"All you have to do is sway to the music."          "Sounds easy
enough."  Aladdin was ready for something easy.          Jasmine
wrapped one of her arms around his neck.  Aladdin reached for her other hand and clasped his fingers around it.  His
other arm circled her waist.  They slowly
began to sway, hardly moving at all.  She was right,
Aladdin thought, this is much easier. 
Aladdin pulled her closer to him and held her
tighter.  Resting her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes.
Aladdin hoped the song would never end.
 

        
Sadira rushed up the steps of Aladdin's small run-down home. "Aladdin!"  she called.  "Aladdin where are
you?"          After reaching
the top of the stairs, she surveyed the dark, empty room. "Aladdin?"  she called again.  There was no
answer.  "Oh Rats!  He's not here!"  She stamped her foot.  "Rats! Rats!
Rats!  I wonder where he is."          As soon as the
words left her lips, she knew their answer.  "He must be at the palace with Jasmine."  She sighed.  "Oh
well, I guess I have to deal with her too.  If I want to make Aladdin mine, he has to forget
her."          Sadira ran
back down the stairs and out of the building, making her way
through the starlit streets to the palace.          Once there she
stood before the formidable walls surrounding it.  On each side of the huge doors stood a guard.          One of them
recognized her immediately.  "What are you doing here street rat?"  he growled, moving closer to her.
         "Um
. . . nothing, kind sir . . ."  She fished around in her pocket for
the magic sand she always kept there. 
Pinching some of it between her fingers, she
threw it at the guards and quickly chanted a spell she had memorized.
        
Their eyes glazed over.  They weren't unconscious, but they weren't
aware either.  Both of them looked through
Sadira as if she wasn't there.          "That was
easy," she laughed. She didn't have trouble climbing over the walls.  Experiences in the marketplace had her prepared
for that.          She dropped
down on the opposite side of the wall and began circling the
palace, looking in every window she passed for Aladdin.  As she
came around the last side of the palace, she
noticed the light streaming out of the ballroom.  Tiptoeing to the window, she peaked
inside.          The candlelit
room and musicians caught her attention first.  Then her focus shifted to Aladdin and Jasmine.  They were off to
the side of the room, holding each other and
dancing.  She saw Jasmine's closed eyes and the small smile on Aladdin's face.          As she took in
the scene, she felt a pain in her heart.  She knew, though
she hated to admit it, that Aladdin deeply loved
Jasmine.  She could see it in the way he
always had a little smile on his face when someone spoke of her.
She saw it by the look in his eyes when Jasmine was
with him.  She heard it in his voice when
he talked with such fondness of her.          So many things
told her it was true, yet she was still convinced that somehow she could make Aladdin love her.  After
all, she reasoned, people fall out of
love all the time, and then back in love with someone new.
Why shouldn't he fall out of love with Jasmine,
and in love with me?  He'll come
to his senses; I'll prove I'm the one for him, no matter what it takes . .
.          She crouched
down far enough so that to see her from the palace, someone would have to go very close to the window. 
Peeking her head above the sill, she could
still see inside.  As she watched, she developed her plan.  It has to work, because this time, I'll
get Jasmine out of the way long enough
for him to fall in love with me.          She kept her
vigil for hours, until Aladdin and Jasmine had danced to the
last song.  That was just enough time for her to work out every little
detail in her plan.  Nothing would go
wrong!  As she rose, she blew a kiss to Aladdin through the window.  "Soon you will be mine,
Handsome,"  she whispered.  Then she
turned to leave.  She had to prepare in her cavern for the spell she was about to try.  

        
Aladdin let Jasmine down from his arms after the last dance.  She
smiled as she looked up into his eyes.
         "May
I accompany you to your room?"  he asked.          "I would be
honored,"  she answered.          She linked her
arm through his, and he led her out of the ballroom, through the many corridors, and up the stairs until they
stopped at Jasmine's chamber.          "Thanks for
inviting me tonight.  I had fun, and I think I even learned to
dance a little,"  said Aladdin with a
laugh.          "I had a great
time, too.  Thank you for coming.  And, I think you
danced just fine,"  Jasmine answered.
"Good-night."         
"Good-night."  He kissed her before he left.          As he was
heading away from her room, she called out to him, "Come
again tomorrow, okay?"          "Sure," he
called over his shoulder.  "I'll see you then."          He hummed as
he walked home through the darkness.  The night had been
perfect.  He was looking forward to going back to the palace in the
morning.  

        
Jasmine could hear Aladdin knocking on her door.  She knew it was
him, but she didn't want him to come in.  Her
head hurt terribly.  Why is he here so early?  she wondered.   His
pounding on the door had awakened her. It
seemed extremely loud.         
"Jasmine?"  he called.  "Can I come in?"          She wanted to
be alone and go back to sleep, but she couldn't turn him away. 
After all, she had told him to come back in the morning.  She
really wanted to see him, but not now . . .
she was too tired.          "Come in,
Aladdin,"  she called drowsily.          The door
creaked open.  "Jasmine-"  He stopped and stared at her,
lying in bed, the blankets pulled up around
her.  Her eyes were red.  He wondered if she had been crying.  "Jasmine,"  he said
walking toward her. "Why are you still in
bed?"          What a
stupid question, she thought.  I want to know why he's
here so early . . .
        
"Because,"  she mumbled.  "It's early, and I'm tired.  Why are
you here already?"          "Why am I here
already?  It's early?  The morning has already past.
It's almost half past one, in the afternoon."
         At
first, Jasmine didn't believe him.  How could it be so late?  She
had never overslept this way, and she was
still tired.          "You haven't
awaken yet?  That's not like you."          "I know,"
Jasmine murmured sleepily.  "You woke me up.  How long
would I have slept if you hadn't?"  She sat up
slowly, and it made her head hurt more. 
Her hair had come loose and hung in her face.  The blankets that
had been wrapped around her fell down into a pile on
her bed and across her knees.  Shivering,
she rubbed her arms, feeling someone's gaze on her.          She looked
up.  Aladdin was watching her.  Aladdin!  She had
forgotten that he was there; she had forgotten that
he had even come at all. But how could she
have?  Her head dropped wearily again, and she saw the green
silk of her nightgown.  I'm not even dressed
yet!  she realized.  And my hair, it must look terrible . . . I must look
terrible.  Why did I let Aladdin in?  I should have been dressed and had my hair done, but
I just invited him in, while I was
practically asleep.  That was disrespectful; I should have
been awake already.          "Jasmine, is
something wrong?"   Aladdin asked.  He didn't think he
should add that she didn't look too good.  "Why
did you sleep for so long?"          "I don't
know."  She shook her head, hoping to clear her mind.  "I'm
sorry, I wasn't thinking."          "Are you sure
nothing is wrong?  Are you sick?"          She wanted him
to leave, so she could crawl beneath the blankets and sleep, even though she knew she should have been awake hours
ago.          Instead of
telling him any of this, she forced herself to smile.  "No, I'm
not sick.  Nothing's wrong.  I just
overslept, that's all."  She didn't tell him how badly her head hurt.  Picking up her brush, she began
straightening her tangled hair, wondering why
her father hadn't waken her up.          Her mind
wandered as she thought of one thing, then another, but nothing in particular.  Thinking about one thing was too
hard right now.          She heard the
brush drop to the floor.  She didn't even know that she had let go of it, but she didn't care.  She let herself
fall back against the pillows, expecting to
hear nothing but silence.          And then she
realized that Aladdin was talking to her.  She hadn't heard
a word he had said before, hadn't even known he was
speaking.          "So, I thought
maybe . . ."  Aladdin's voice trailed off. "Jasmine, you haven't said a thing.  Are you trying to ignore me? Do you
want me to leave?"          Without
thinking, Jasmine nodded.          "You do
want me to leave?"  Aladdin asked.          "It's just
that . . . I'm so tired . . . and I have headache.  I'm sorry," 
she whispered.          "It's okay.
I'll leave and let you rest."         
"Thanks."          He rose,
brushing her face with his finger.  "Are you sure you're okay?"
        
"Yes, I'm fine," she assured him.  "I just need to rest.  Come back
later. Knock first, and if I don't answer in a
few minutes, just let yourself in."          "I hope you
feel better.  Good-bye."          "Bye." 
She was grateful when he left, needing to be alone in the silence.  She buried her face in the pillows and almost
fell asleep . . . but she felt someone else's
presence in the room.          She rolled
over onto her back and opened her eyes, expecting to see her
father or Aladdin.  But no, the shadowy figure leaning over her was
that of a young woman.  Vaguely, she
recognized Sadira, but she was too tired to be
alarmed.  Her eyes closed and she fell into a deep and dreamless
sleep.    

        
Aladdin walked through the hall almost soundlessly as he was leaving.
He could hear Jasmine's breathing get heavier as she
fell asleep.  I can't believe she's
fallen asleep again so quickly . . . I'm not even out
of the palace yet . . .          Then the
rhythmic sound of her breathing was joined by the sound of something else . . . the sound of movement within the
room.   But Jasmine wasn't awake,
was she?  He changed direction and returned to her room.         
"Jasmine?"  He knocked quietly on the door, but there wasn't an 
answer. "Are you awake?"          More noise
inside . . . someone bustling about quickly, but still no answer . . .          Slowly, he
pushed open the door, and his eyes searched Jasmine's large bed chamber.  He could see the form of Jasmine's body
under the sheets in her bed, and she was
definitely sleeping.  He walked around the room, but no one was there.  I must have been imagining the
sounds, he decided. Jasmine's the only
one here, and she's asleep . . . the noise must have come
from someplace else . . .          On his way
home he thought about what had happened at the palace. It's not normal that Jasmine was sleeping when I arrived . . .
she didn't know what time it was, and
she hardly said a word to me.  Even though we were up
late, she looked overly tired.  She said she
wasn't sick, so why wasn't she acting
like herself?  She seemed confused, but she didn't have a reason to
be. She knew I was coming today . . .
she invited me . . . and she was fine last night
. . .          He was still
thinking about her as he climbed the steps to his home.          Suddenly Genie
popped out of his lamp.  "Why
are you home from the palace so early,
Al?  We'd expected you to be gone a few hours."          "Is her Royal
Highness already tired of you?" asked Iago mockingly.          The Genie
noticed Aladdin's worried expression.  "Hey, kid, what's wrong?"          "I went to the
palace, and when I got there, Jasmine was still in bed, Aladdin
began.  "I  asked her why she wasn't up, and she said it was because it was
early, and that I had awakened her.  But
it wasn't early.  She said she wasn't sick, but she didn't hear a word I said.  She acted like I wasn't
even there, and when I asked her if she wanted
me to leave, she said yes!  So . . . I left."          "Oh, Al,
that's not a big deal.  She probably was tired; you were up
late last night."  Genie smiled.
         "But
it's just not like her, Genie.  I've never known her to sleep so
long, no matter how late she was up the night
before.  And why didn't the Sultan wake
her?"  He suddenly remembered that he hadn't seen the Sultan at all
in the palace.          "Something
else bothers me,"  he continued.  "When I was leaving, I
thought I heard someone moving around in Jasmine's
room, but when I checked, no one was there . .
. not even Rajah.  Jasmine was sleeping, so it wasn't her I heard."          "It's a
curse!"  yelled Iago.  "Jasmine has been cursed!"          "I don't think
so, Iago," said Aladdin, "but it still worries me.  Maybe I
shouldn't have left her alone in the palace."
        
"Well, didn't she tell you to go away?"  asked Iago.  He didn't wait
for a reply.  "Then you did exactly as
she told you."          "She told me
to leave,"  answered Aladdin.  "But she said to come back later."  Suddenly an uneasy feeling came over
him.  "I'm going back right now;
something just doesn't seem right."          "But you just
got here, Al.  Maybe she doesn't want you back so soon," Genie said.  "Maybe she's still tired.  You mustn't
wake her from her beauty rest!"
         "Has
it occurred to anyone that maybe she doesn't want you back at all?"  questioned Iago.          Aladdin didn't
answer.  He was already heading out the door.  

        
The halls of the palace were silent when Aladdin arrived, as if no one
lived there at all.  Once again he saw no sign
of the Sultan, but instead of letting it worry
him, he decided he'd ask Jasmine about him when he found her.
         He
arrived at Jasmine's room and knocked on the door.  When there
was no answer, he knocked again, remembering what
Jasmine had said earlier:  Come back
later.  Knock first, and if I don't answer in a few minutes,
 let yourself in.          His waiting
for a reply was answered by silence, so he pushed the door open.  Jasmine wasn't there.  Her bed had been
perfectly made, without one wrinkle in the
fine silk.  No one would have guessed that less than an hour
ago the princess had been sleeping in it, because
there was no sign of her now.          As he walked
to her vanity, he noticed that everything was in perfect order
there, too.  It was empty besides the brush Jasmine had dropped
earlier, a vase, and a small piece of folded
paper.  A letter.          He picked it
up and turned it over in his hands.  Aladdin.  It was
for him.  He opened it slowly,
immediately recognizing Jasmine's small, delicate hand-writing.  He began to read.   Dear
Aladdin,       Thank you for coming back. 
Although I appreciate it, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave.  If you are
wondering where I am, don't
bother looking for me.  I'm going through some problems;
don't worry, they have nothing
to do with you.  It's just something I have to deal
with myself, without any help from
anybody.            
Jasmine

        
He carefully refolded the letter and slipped it into his pocket,
wondering: What kind of problems could Jasmine be
going through that she doesn't want my
help?  Maybe she doesn't know what she wants . . . maybe
she thinks she doesn't want help, but would
be grateful if she received it.         I have to help her .
. . but I can't if I don't know what the problem is. I'll find her and see what's wrong; what kind of person would I
be if I didn't support her?  We'll
be married soon . . . we have to learn to help and
understand each other.          He ignored
what the letter said and decided to find her and see what was wrong.  Unsure of where to begin, he went home, hoping
the Genie could give him  advice.
         But
to Aladdin's surprise, the Genie was gone.  So were Abu and Iago.
Aladdin had no choice but to head back to the
palace.          Once there, he
searched the halls again.  He wanted to ask someone where
Jasmine was, but no one was around.  He began to climb the flight of
stairs that would bring him to her
room.         
"Jasmine!"  he called.  "Where are you?"          "Rasoul! 
Sultan!  Phasal?"  he cried out.  No one answered. 
Where was everyone?  Aladdin couldn't
remember a time when the palace had been so
deserted.  First he had thought it unusual that he hadn't seen the Sultan
or Rajah in the palace.  Then the guards
couldn't be found, and now he didn't know
where Jasmine was.  Even Abu, Iago, and Genie were gone.  It
didn't make sense.          He was so
caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even notice that someone else was rushing down the steps, until she collided
with him. Apparently, she was caught up in her
own thoughts, too.          She had fallen
down and was sitting on the steps.  Aladdin looked down. It was Jasmine!  He bent to help her up.
        
"Jasmine!  I'm sorry," he apologized. "I should have been watching
where I was going."          She didn't say
anything, just stared at him blankly as he pulled her up.          "I'm glad
you're feeling better, Jasmine."          "How do you
know I feel better?"  she asked.          He
shrugged.  "I assumed that since you were out of bed,  you
felt better.  You look a lot better,
too."          "Are you
saying that I looked bad before?"          "No, it's just
that-"          She
interrupted him.  "Have you been in my room?"          He
nodded.  He began to speak, but she cut him off.          "Did you read
the letter?"          Again he
nodded.          "Then why did
you come looking for me?"  she asked angrily.  "I told
you not to."          "Jasmine, I
want to help you,"  he said.          She turned
around and started heading back up the stairs.  He followed
her and grabbed her arm, keeping her from going any
farther.  He whirled her around to make
her face him.  "Jasmine, please tell me what's wrong; let me
help you."          "I don't want
any help."          "It might make
you feel better if you talked to someone,"  he said.          "Maybe I will
talk to someone then, but not to you.  I told you, I do NOT need your help."  Jerking her arm out of his
grasp, she continued up the stairs.
         He
ran ahead and stood in her way.  "Jasmine, we're going to be
married!  You have to let me help you."
        
"Aladdin, no."          "Why
not?"          She pushed him
out of her way and kept walking, then looked over her shoulder at him.  "Aladdin, that whole letter was just . .
."  She paused. "Never mind."
         He
ran after her.  "The whole letter was just what?"  She didn't
stop. "Where are you going in such a
hurry?"          "It's not any
of your business, but I'm going to get ready."  She rushed
to the top of the stairs.          "Get ready for
what?"  Aladdin asked.  She didn't answer.  She didn't
even turn around.          Aladdin
sighed.  What was wrong with her?  He had never seen her
like this.  By now she was so far ahead of him
that he couldn't see her, but he continued up
the stairs intending to visit her room.          He stopped at
her door; he knew she was inside by the sound of her movements.  He knocked hard, so she couldn't give the
excuse that she hadn't heard him.
        
"Jasmine, will you open the door?"          "No!" 
came her voice from inside.  "Leave me alone!"          "Jasmine, why
are you acting like this?  What made you change?" he asked.          "I haven't
changed one bit!"          "Yes you have,
Jasmine.  You're not yourself."          "You're
the one who's not acting right. You should respect my privacy
and leave me alone!" she called.          "Why don't you
just let me in?"          "Because, this
is my room and you have no right to be in here."          "I have a
right to know what's going on!"  Although he was trying not
to let it, his voice was beginning to rise.
         A
long silence followed, neither of them speaking to the other. 
Finally, Aladdin asked, "Jasmine, can I please
come in?  I hate talking to you through the door."          "No."
         "Why
not?"          "Aladdin,
go away!  Sometimes a girl needs some privacy.  Can't
you accept that?"          "What are you
doing?"          "I'm getting
dressed in here!   Is that all right with you?  Or do you
have to come in to make sure I'm telling the
truth?"          "I'm
sorry.  I didn't know, because you wouldn't tell me.  What are
you getting ready for?"  He waited for
her to say something, anything, but she maintained her silence.          He turned and
walked away from her room.  She won't even talk to me now.  What is happening to her?   he
wondered.  He went down the steps,
stopped halfway between the top and bottom, and sat down.  I'll
wait here until Jasmine comes out; she
can't stay in there forever, and I'm not giving up until I learn what's happened to her.
        
Aladdin stayed there for what felt like hours, and still Jasmine didn't
come out of her room.   He was about to
head back upstairs, when he caught sight of
the Sultan on the floor below him.         
Perfect!  he thought.  The Sultan will know why Jasmine is
acting like this, and if he doesn't,
he'll help me get to the bottom of this.         
"Sultan!"  he yelled, rushing down the remainder of the stairs. 
"Sultan, I need to talk to you."
         The
Sultan looked up at Aladdin, clearly surprised. "Oh my!  Aladdin!
I didn't expect to see you this afternoon!"
        
"Where have you been?" asked Aladdin.  "I haven't seen you all
day."          "My boy, it's
been a very busy morning."  The Sultan had a hurried air about him, as if he had been caught in the middle of running
errands..          Just as
Aladdin was about to question him further, the Sultan interrupted with: "What are you doing here?"
         "I
came to talk to Jasmine,"  he answered.          "Then you'd
best find her," the Sultan commented.          "First I need
to talk to you."          "About
what?"         
"Jasmine."          The Sultan
frowned.  "Oh dear, come with me.  We'll sit down."          Aladdin was
led into another room, where he and the Sultan plopped down on huge pillows.  "Now, Aladdin, what seems to be the
problem?"  he asked.          "I'm not sure
where to begin," Aladdin admitted.  "Earlier this afternoon, when I came to see Jasmine, she was still in
bed--"          "In the
afternoon?" repeated the Sultan.  "My boy, she's been as busy,
indeed busier, than I, all day.  She was up with
the sun."          "But--" 
Aladdin grasped for words.  He knew he had seen Jasmine
. . . and she had told him to leave . . . Had her
headache and fatigue been an act?
         "She
told me to leave," stammered Aladdin, "but to come back later. And when I did, I couldn't find her . . . but she left me this
note . . ."  He searched for it in his
pocket and handed it to the Sultan.          "Hmmm." 
The Sultan's brow creased as he read the letter, and he muttered something to himself that Aladdin couldn't
decipher.          "I wanted to
help her,"  continued Aladdin. "I was looking for her, and
I ran into her on the stairs.  She wasn't acting
like herself.  She kept pulling away from
me, saying she was going to get ready.  I followed her upstairs,
but was locked out of her room."  Aladdin
sighed.  "Do you know what she's doing?"          "Well," said
the Sultan thoughtfully,  "I  imagine that she's preparing
herself for the Prince."          "The
Prince?"  echoed Aladdin.  "What Prince?"          "Jasmine
hasn't talked to you about him yet?"          Aladdin shook
his head.  "Where is this Prince from?  And when is he
coming to Agrabah?"          "He arrived
from Egypt this morning," answered the Sultan.  "Jasmine said he'd written her and announced his plans for visiting . .
. but she didn't inform me until today; she
can be very careless sometimes . . . "          "Yes,"
murmured Aladdin absently.          "Haven't you
seen him?" asked the Sultan.          "No."
         "Oh
dear, I think I've said too much!"  the Sultan exclaimed.  "I
didn't realized that you didn't know about the
arrangements yet."  He sighed. "Jasmine
said she was going to explain it to you; she was just waiting for the
right time . . ."          "Explain
what?" Aladdin asked impatiently, thinking, Jasmine has
never kept anything from me
before.          "It isn't my
place to tell you.  Even if I did, you wouldn't believe me . . .
and I think you should hear it from Jasmine
anyway."  He paused, a sad expression on
his face.  "In fact, I didn't believe it at first.  I tried to
talk her out of it, but it's what she said
would make her happy.  I'm sorry, boy."          "About
what?"          The Sultan
placed his hand on Aladdin's shoulder.  "Go talk to Jasmine,
Aladdin.  She'll have to tell you sooner or
later."   He left the room.          This is
getting stranger and stranger, thought Aladdin, as he headed
back upstairs to Jasmine's room.  First, she
slept much longer than usual . . . but
the Sultan said she was up with the sun.  And now a mysterious
Prince from Egypt has entered the
picture, and something Jasmine is suppose to tell me
. . . but hasn't . . .          He returned to
Jasmine's room, knocking on the door and calling, Jasmine!" 
But there was no answer.          Pushing it
open, he peeked into the room.  When he didn't see her anywhere, he walked inside.  On the dresser was another
letter addressed to him.

 Aladdin,
      Why do you keep
coming back?  You know I want you to leave me alone for a while.  I wasn't going to tell you this
yet, but if it's the only way to
get the point across, so be it.  When I wouldn't let you in, I
was getting ready to meet Prince
Yonaton.  He holds a very high position within his monarchy.  It's important for you to be out of
sight when I meet him, because
in all honesty, I can't afford to be seen with a street rat like
you.            
Princess Jasmine  
        
Aladdin read the letter again, his hands shaking with pain and anger.
I can't believe Jasmine wrote that . .
.          Most of it
didn't bother him much; what really hurt was Jasmine's referral to him as a street rat.  If there was anything in
the world he didn't want to be called,
that was it.          But Jasmine
knew he hated it.  She had never even come close to
saying anything of the sort to him.  Ever since
they had become engaged, Aladdin had heard
less and less of the old name.  Most people stopped using it out of respect for his position as the Princess's
fiancé, but Jasmine never used it out
of respect for him.          In this day,
Jasmine had surprised him many times by behaving like someone completely different . . . but still, he didn't want to
believe she would try to deliberately hurt
him.         
Perhaps, he thought, grasping for hope, she didn't write
this letter.  Finding the one
she had written before, he compared the handwriting. It was the same.  Deep down, he had known it would
be.          Very often
Jasmine had to meet monarchs of other kingdoms.  She was the princess, and it was her responsibility, but Aladdin had
never been excluded from her meetings before.
She had never seemed ashamed or embarrassed to
be seen with him, nor did she deny that she was engaged to a man who wasn't of royal blood or even the child of wealthy
parents.          So why is
it, that suddenly she doesn't want to be seen with me, and doesn't want me around when she's with Prince Yonaton?
wondered Aladdin.  What makes this
prince different from the others?          Aladdin was
going to find out.  Even though Jasmine didn't want him to
meet Yonaton, the Prince seemed to be the only one
who could give him the answers.
         His
memory drifted to when he had first come to the palace, hoping to
win Jasmine's love.  Everyone had believed that
he was a prince, and he was given one of the
most comfortable suites in the palace.          The room was
in the same hall as Jasmine's, but it wasn't near hers.  It
was the very last room in that wing of the
palace.  He didn't think he would find
the Prince there, because that room was usually reserved for himself.
However, unoccupied chambers filled both sides of the
hall, and Yonaton could be staying in one of
those.          Aladdin
searched the entire section of the palace and didn't find a trace
of a visitor.  As he was about to leave that
wing and search another, he heard voices
coming from inside Jasmine's room.          Walking nearer
to the room, he distinctly recognized Jasmine's voice, but her male companion's wasn't familiar.          For a moment
both voices fell silent . . . at least, that's what Aladdin thought before he crept close enough to hear the
whispers.          Jasmine's
laughter followed, but there was something about it that made
it seem not her own.          "Now, Jasmine,
we need to talk,"  the man said soberly.          "About
what?"  asked Jasmine.  A hint of light-hearted giggle touched
her words.          "You know . .
. that other man.  Have you told him about me yet?"
        
"Actually. . . no," she answered slowly.          "Jasmine . .
."          "Yonaton, try
to understand," she pleaded.  "I'm looking for the right time."          She's
talking to the Prince! Aladdin realized.  And the 'other man'
had to be him!          Moving closer
to the door, he pushed it open a crack and peeked inside.          Jasmine was
dressed in her finest robes and was seated on the bed, the Prince sitting comfortably beside her.  He had long, silky
black hair, unblemished skin, an even smile,
and sparkling dark eyes.  Aladdin felt a twinge of jealousy.         
"Jasmine,"  persisted Yonaton, "you have to tell him soon.  You
can't hide it from him forever."
         "I
know."  Jasmine slid closer to him.  "But why should you care?
Are you afraid I'm going to change my mind if
I put off  telling him any longer?"          When he didn't
answer, Jasmine laughed.  "Well, if you are," she said playfully, "you have nothing to worry about."  Her
arms slipped around his neck.  "Once I've
made up my mind, I usually carry it out."          His
unnaturally perfect smile flashed, and he murmured, "Good."  The
word was quickly muffled by Jasmine's lips covering
his.          Aladdin
watched in disbelief.  That's not a kiss of courtesy. . .
that's the way she kisses
me.          Without
thinking, he flung the door open.  Jasmine jerked away from
the prince and her eyes darted to Aladdin, surprise
clearly showing on her face.          Unbearable
anger welled up inside Aladdin . . . anger such as he had never felt before.  How can Jasmine kiss Yonaton as if
he means more to her than I do? 
What right does Yonaton have for barging in on our life?  And
why couldn't I piece this together
sooner?  His anger was so strong he couldn't speak.          Almost as one
person, Jasmine and Yonaton rose from the bed.  Finally, Aladdin found his voice.  "Jasmine, why
were you kissing him?"  he
demanded.          She didn't
answer.  Instead, she glanced over at Yonaton, but he was backing into the shadows.  Jasmine turned back toward
Aladdin, opened her mouth to speak, and then
closed it again.          "And don't
tell me that kiss didn't mean anything, Jasmine, because I could see that it did," Aladdin said.          "I'm not going
to lie to you anymore," she admitted.  "You're right.  It
did mean something.  Aladdin . . . I'm
sorry . . . I didn't want you to find out this
way . . ."  Jasmine sighed before murmuring, "I've fallen in love
with Prince Yonaton."          "What?" 
Aladdin whispered.  "But you. . ."  He wanted to say that she
was in love with him, but the words stuck in his
throat.          As if reading
his mind, she said, "I'm sorry, Aladdin.   I'm not in love
with you anymore . . . not the way I used to
be.  When I first met you, I thought you
were the most wonderful man in the world . . . but that was over
a year ago, and I've changed a lot since then . . .
we've changed a lot since then. 
Perhaps what we felt was no more than a crush."          Aladdin stared
at her, unable to believe her words.  "Jasmine, you and I are engaged to be married!"          Jasmine looked
at the floor.  "Not anymore."         
"What?"          Her head shot
up.  "Aladdin, I've already talked to my father.  All the
wedding arrangements have been canceled."
        
Suddenly Aladdin knew what the Sultan had been talking about.  His
throat tightened painfully.  "Why,
Jasmine?"          "Aladdin, you
know I believe in marrying for love.  I won't marry anyone
I don't love . . . I could never be happy with him.  And I don't think
I love you anymore.  That's why the
engagement has been called off."          Aladdin felt
as if she'd driven a knife through his heart.  "How could you?"  he asked.  "How could you be so
heartless?"          Anger flamed
in Jasmine's eyes as she cried, "Do you think this is easy for me?  Do you?  Do you think it was easy for
me to admit to myself that I didn't love you
anymore?  I can't help the way I feel!"          "Is this the
"problem" you spoke of in your letter earlier?"  he asked.
         She
shook her head.  "Aladdin, that letter didn't mean a thing.  I
wrote it so it could buy me some time, give me
a while to find a way to tell you . . ."          "I'm sorry,
but I just don't understand you," he said.  How could she have changed so much overnight?          Jasmine's
voice turned cold as she said, "You're right.  You don't
understand me.  You couldn't possibly, and you
probably never will.  And I don't
understand you.  We never really have understood each other. 
Don't you see?  We can't be
together.  Our upbringings are too different, and it's impossible for us ever to sympathize with each other. 
I've tried, Aladdin, but it's no use.  I
was brought up in royalty; you grew up on the streets.  I was
taught that stealing was wrong, yet you did it every
day to stay alive.  And there are more
differences, so many, I couldn't even count them."  She glanced at Yonaton and added, "That's why I'll have a better
life with a Prince.  He was brought up as
I was, and he knows how I feel.  And you would be better off with another woman . . . one who would
understand you."          Her words had
cut him, and he didn't know how to reply.  He loved her . . . he had believed she loved him.  The differences had
never mattered before.  Why should two
people have to be exactly alike to fall in love?  How could Jasmine tell him they could never be happy together, when
he could recall times when they had spent
hours planning what a wonderful life they would have?  Didn't she remember everything they had
shared?  Didn't she care?  Did she
really want to throw it all away?          "Aladdin,
please leave,"  she commanded softly.          He turned and
left without saying another word.  There seemed to be an empty hole where his heart had been, and he walked out of
the palace with his head hung down.
 

        
Smiling, Sadira observed the scene in a small, clear pool in her cavern.
She sprinkled more sand into it and repeated the
spell to keep the vision in the water from
fading away.          Her face
showed pure enjoyment.  Her spell was working perfectly . . .
so far.  Surely Aladdin would want to forget
Jasmine after the way she'd treated
him.          Aladdin was
unaware that the woman he had been talking to was not his beloved Jasmine at all.  She was Sadira's creation, an
image made of sand, and nothing more. 
Prince Yonaton was also one of these images.  Sadira controlled everything they did without leaving her
cavern.  The real Jasmine had been taken
care of by Sadira, because if she were there, her image would die.          Nervously,
Sadira began to pace, reminding herself that as soon as the sun set, her spell would be final.  The sand images
couldn't be destroyed, no matter what. 
But before then, the spell was unstable, and could be disturbed
by a number of occurrences.  Mixing magics, such
as Genie's magic, could alter the spell. 
Or, if the real Jasmine were to confront the image of Jasmine, the image would crumble back into sand and be completely
destroyed.  So too, would Yonaton.
        
Jasmine was locked  against the wall,  chains connected to her
arms. Sadira had also captured Abu, Iago,
Rajah, Carpet, and Genie, using the same sleep
spell that had allowed her to obtain Jasmine.  She wasn't taking
any chances . . . what she was working for was
too important.          Watching
Sadira, Jasmine struggled with the chains, the metal rubbing painfully against her wrists.  "Sadira, how could you do
this?" she cried.  "I thought
you were our friend!"          Sadira turned
away from the pool, and suddenly the expression on her face changed from enjoyment to something more like sorrow or
regret.  "I wanted to be.  Really I
did."          "You certainly
aren't acting like it!"  Jasmine said.          "Jasmine, I
tried . . .  I really did . . . it's just that . . ."  She
paused. "How can I be your friend if I'm
always competing against you?  It can't work."          "Then stop
trying to compete, Sadira."          Sadira looked
Jasmine straight in the eye.  "That's easy for you to
say."          "What do you
mean by that?"          An exasperated
sigh escaped Sadira.  "Jasmine, you're a Princess! All your life, you've had everything handed to you.  You
don't know what it's like to be hungry and
have to race against others like you for one scrap of food!  You don't know what it's like for people to
look down upon you because you don't have
money!  You don't know what it's like being called "street rat" or worse names, every day of your
life!  And most of all, you don't
know what it's like to watch someone else with the man of your dreams.
YOU have Aladdin, Jasmine.  You have no
idea what it's like to constantly have to
compete . . . and  lose."  Sadira turned her back to Jasmine.
        
"Sadira, if you need food or money, fine.  But stay away from
Aladdin!"  Jasmine warned.          Sadira whirled
around.  "I don't need your help, Jasmine.  Besides,
don't you get it?  That isn't what this is
about.  It's about love."  She lowered her eyes and whispered, "I need someone to love . . . someone
who will love me in return.  You have
your father and Aladdin, and half the city. Everybody loves the Princess . . . but what about
me?  I need Aladdin."          Jasmine
couldn't help feeling sorry for Sadira, but when she glanced back at the pool, watching Sadira destroy Aladdin's faith in
her, her anger returned.  Why did Sadira
have to go after Aladdin, of all people?  "I hope you know, you're hurting Aladdin," she remarked coldly.
         "No,
Jasmine, you are,"  she answered, referring to the image of
Jasmine displayed in the pool.          "But that's
not me!"  she screamed.  "Aladdin, that's not me!  I
would never do that!"          "He can't hear
you, Jasmine."          "I
know,"  she whispered.  Neither of them said anything. Sadira
reached to a nearby shelf, pulled down a small
bottle, and dropped it in her pocket. 
Jasmine was too caught up in her thoughts to notice what it contained.          Finally, she
broke the silence.  "Sadira, I love Aladdin, and he loves me.  That's not something you can steal away, like food or
money."          "That's where
I'm going to prove you wrong, Princess."  And with that, Sadira left.          "Oh yeah, she
has her marbles lined up!"  squawked Iago from a birdcage hanging right above Jasmine's head.          Jasmine looked
up.  She had almost forgotten about Iago, Abu, Rajah, Genie, and Carpet.  Once reminded, she was surprised at
how long Iago had kept his mouth shut. 
"We have to get out of here,"  she said.          "OH,
REALLY?  Well, I bet that took a lot of brains to figure
out! Here's the real tough question:
HOW???"  Iago demanded.          "I'm thinking,
I'm thinking."  Jasmine whispered.  "Wait!  If we could
somehow get Genie out of that bottle Sadira trapped
him in, he could get us out of here with his
magic!"          "Oh gee,
Princess.  That would almost work.  EXCEPT THAT THE
GENIE ISN'T HERE!"  Iago shouted.
        
"What do you mean?"  Jasmine asked.  She knew Sadira had
captured Genie and then tricked him into a
bottle.  "Of course the Genie's here.  He's right over there on that shelf."  Jasmine pointed and then
stared.  The spot where he had been was
empty!  She turned back to Iago.  "Iago, where is he?"          "You mean you
didn't see?"          Jasmine shook
her head.          "Well, you
were busy having your little spat with Sadira.  While you were fighting, that little Sand Witch took the Genie and put
him in her pocket. He's with her now," Iago
explained.          Of
course.  Jasmine did remember Sadira taking the bottle now
that she thought about it.          Jasmine's eyes
searched the cavern as she wondered what to do next. In one corner was Sadira's collection of spells, hundreds of
them.  Near  those was a shelf
overflowing with bottles, bags, and strangely painted pottery, all
which were filled with magic sand.          Finally,
Jasmine fixed her gaze on the pool.  She could see Aladdin
walking down the streets of Agrabah, but the picture
was disappearing into a foggy mist.
        
Above Jasmine, Iago was complaining about his birdcage lacking a
peach.  Carpet was strapped against the wall,
and Rajah was at Jasmine's feet, his head
between chained paws.  His tail was tapping the floor impatiently.          "I know
Rajah,"  she said sympathetically. He looked up at the sound
of her voice.  "I'm getting restless too. 
But we'll be out of here soon, if I can help
it.  There's no way I'm going to just sit here while Sadira tries
to steal Aladdin."          Beginning to
struggle in the uncomfortable chains once again, Jasmine heard
a familiar chattering.  Abu was sitting on Rajah's rump.  When he
knew he had Jasmine's attention, he began
squeaking excitedly.  Jasmine had trouble
keeping up, because she couldn't understand Abu as well as Aladdin,
Genie or Iago.  "Abu, slow down," she pleaded.
"I don't know what you're talking
about!"          He pointed at
his vest with his tail.  Of course!  Abu's lock pics had
gotten everyone out of tough spots more than
once.  "Oh, Abu, perfect!  You can
use your lock pics to get us out!"          After nodding
happily, he tackled his own lock by maneuvering the pic with his tail.  Without the use of his hands he was a bit
clumsy, and it was a while before he was
free.  But once he fell to the ground, he worked quickly and unlocked everyone's chains in turn, gladly accepting the
praise and pats on the back he
received.          Jasmine was
the first to hop on Carpet,  and she motioned for Abu to join her.  He scrambled up beside her, Iago flew
alongside, and Rajah was ready to follow close
behind.  Making sure everyone was there, she said, "Let's go!"  The carpet shot out of the cavern. 
Jasmine hoped they wouldn't be too
late.  

        
Aladdin was walking home at a slow pace when Sadira caught up with
him.  It was going to be difficult pretending
that she was oblivious to what had happened,
but she had to try.  If all goes well, she thought
hopefully, Aladdin will want to forget
Jasmine, and therefore, be free for me.  She took a deep breath and quickened her pace until she was walking
in step with Aladdin.  He didn't notice
her.  "Hi, Aladdin!"          Surprised, he
looked up.  "Oh, Sadira.  Hi."  He lowered his head
again.          "What's
wrong?"  Sadira prompted.          He
sighed.  "It's Jasmine."          "Oh.  Uh
. . . do you need to talk to someone about it?"  she asked.
        
Aladdin studied Sadira's face.  He knew she could be shifty, and
yet she had proven to be their
friend.  He didn't know where Genie, Iago, and Abu were, and talking to Jasmine was out of the question. 
He finally decided to trust Sadira. 
After all, people could change.          "It started
this morning . . ."  He told her everything that she not only
knew, but had planned.  He started with
Jasmine's oversleeping, then went on to tell
about the first and second letters, the meeting on the stairs, the way
the Sultan had acted and what he'd said,
Prince Yonaton, and finally, the fight and
wedding arrangements.  "Then she said I don't understand her, and
that she doesn't understand me.  She said
it would never work, and that I should find
someone different."  Aladdin hadn't meant to tell Sadira
everything, but once he had started, he
found it felt good to let it all out.          There was a
short silence before Sadira remarked, "Jasmine's right, you know."          "What?" 
Aladdin asked disbelievingly.  It wasn't the reply he had expected.          "Don't get the
wrong idea," Sadira said quickly.  "I'm not taking her
side.  The way she treated you was
terrible.  What I meant was, some of the points she made were true.  Like the part about you not
understanding each other."          "What do you
mean?"          "She will
never understand you, Aladdin!" cried Sadira.  "Don't you
see?  She may be a great person, but she could
never understand how we live! 
She's a princess and always has been.  You and I, we know what it's
like to live on the streets."          "I just can't
believe we couldn't work it out somehow," 
he said.          "I know it's
hard, but maybe it just wasn't meant to be."  Sadira put a
note of feigned sadness in her voice.
         "But
I was so sure we belonged together!"  Aladdin sighed, and Sadira
was painfully reminded that he did care for
Jasmine.  Making him fall in love with
another wouldn't be easy.          "Thanks for
listening anyway, Sadira,"  he said. "I guess I really did
need someone to talk to."          "Why don't I
come to your home with you, and we could talk some more," Sadira suggested.          He
nodded.  "That would be okay."          Sadira
smiled.  The sun would soon be setting.  

        
Jasmine swooshed over the city on Carpet, searching until she saw
Aladdin.  She finally found Sadira and Aladdin
walking together.   They were both
smiling, but Aladdin's smile was sad while Sadira's was victorious.
        
After Carpet had landed, Jasmine stepped off with her animal friends
following.  Glancing down at herself, she
realized that she was still in her nightgown,
because Sadira had taken her while she slept, but it didn't seem to
matter now.  "Aladdin!"  she called.
         At
the familiar voice he glanced behind him, astonished to see Jasmine.
Remembering what had happened at the palace, he
turned away.  He didn't want to talk to
her.          Sadira also
saw Jasmine, and a great disappointment came over her. NO!  she thought furiously.  I was so
close.          "Aladdin, you
have every right to be angry with me, but you have to listen."  Jasmine tried to take his hand, but he jerked it
away from her.  She knew he was upset
with the image and not her, but she couldn't help feeling
hurt.  He had never turned away from her
before.  "Aladdin, you have to listen."  Although she was trying not to let it, her voice
was shaking.  Aladdin noticed it too, and
told himself he must be imagining it.  He looked over his shoulder at her, and to his surprise, saw her face filled with
pain and frustration.  It was hard for
him to turn away again.          "Please,
Aladdin, I have to talk to you."          This time he
knew her voice was shaking, and when he turned, she threw her arms around his neck.  Almost as a reflex, he
opened his arms to return her embrace. 
He couldn't keep walking away now.          Over the top
of her head, Aladdin saw Iago, Abu, Rajah, and Carpet. But where was Genie?  And where was Yonaton? (He
remembered Yonaton with mixed anger and
jealousy.)  Why was Jasmine still in her nightgown, when
she had been dressed in her finest before?  And most importantly,
why did she seem so close to tears?
         "Oh,
Aladdin, I'm so sorry," she whispered.  "I can explain everything."
        
Sadira gasped.  Jasmine was going to tell!  Her images would
be destroyed, and Aladdin would hate
her.          "Jasmine, what
happened?"          "Aladdin, I'm
not going to marry Yonaton," she began, knowing it was what he was most concerned about.  "I could never love
anyone the way I love you."          He
sighed.  "That's a relief.  But  you told me yourself, all that
stuff you said about finding someone new, and
. . ."          She cut him
off.  "That wasn't me."          He looked
confused.  "Then who was it?"          "No one,
really.  That was only an image, created of nothing more than
sand!"          "Then where
were you?  And was Yonaton real? Who created these "images?"  Who would want to do that?  Who knows
how?"  As soon as the questions tumbled
out, he remembered Sadira.  She knew every sand spell
imaginable.  But she was their friend, wasn't
she?          Jasmine tried
to answer all his questions.  "Yonaton wasn't real, he was
another image . . ."  She paused.  
Strangely, she felt as though she would be betraying Sadira if she told Aladdin the truth, but she knew he
deserved to hear it.  "Sadira created
them, and I was trapped in her cavern." 
She smiled at Abu and added, "If it weren't
for Abu, I still would be."          Abu smiled
back and began strutting around in circles, happy to have played such an important role.  "Thanks, Pal," said
Aladdin.  Iago rolled his eyes.
         Then
Aladdin turned back to Jasmine.  "What about the letters?  Did
you write them?"          She shook her
head.  "Sadira seems to have a talent for forgery.  She
wrote them. The only time you were really talking to
me was this morning."          Aladdin
glanced at Sadira, but she wouldn't make eye contact.  "Sadira,
if this is true, how do we get rid of these
images?"          Sadira
guiltily looked up and whispered, "It's true.  Follow me." 
She led them down the streets and back to the
palace, deliberately going slow, half hoping
the sun would set and make her spell final.  They reached the
palace all too soon for Sadira, and she told them
they would find the images in Jasmine's
room.          Aladdin,
Jasmine, Abu, Rajah, Iago, and Carpet all rushed upstairs, but Sadira trailed behind much more slowly.          Finally they
arrived at Jasmine's chamber.  After Sadira had caught up,
the door was pushed open.  The image of Jasmine
stood up, as did the image of Yonaton beside
her.          The real
Jasmine entered the room and for a moment stood face to face with herself.  Eerie shivers raced upon her skin as the
image began to distort itself.  Then it
lost its shape completely, crumbling to the ground.  The same
happened to Yonaton.  They were both piles of
sand, but sand unlike the usual grains found
in the desert. It was a fine, almost soft powder, and it sparkled
as if filled with tiny diamonds.          Jasmine
kneeled on the floor and sifted through the sand, feeling it slide between her fingers and back into the pile.
        
"EEEW!  YUCK!"  said Iago.  "That's almost like going through
the bones of your own dead body,
Princess."          Aladdin shot
him a look that was meant to silence him.  "What?"  Iago
cried.  "Don't I have the right to an
opinion?"          Jasmine
ignored him as she dropped the rest of the powder and brushed her hands on her nightgown. "It's only sand,"  she said
disbelievingly.  She found it
incomprehensible that only moments ago it had been an exact replica
of herself.          Jasmine looked
up at Sadira.  She was gazing out the window, watching as the last orange rays of sun disappeared. 
If only Jasmine had come a few
seconds later!  she thought.  Then the images would have
been permanent.          "Sadira?"
Jasmine asked.  Sadira jumped as Jasmine broke into her thoughts.  "Can these . . . images do anything
else?"          Sadira shook
her head.  "Not anymore.  Once you came and met with your image, you destroyed it.  It's just sand now."
         Just
then Aladdin remembered  Genie.  "Where is Genie?"  he
asked.          Already
defeated, Sadira thrust her hand into her pocket and withdrew the bottle.  "I almost forgot," she admitted, tossing it
to Aladdin.          He popped out
the cork, and Genie exploded out of the small bottle, slowly taking form from the blue smoke.  Confused, he
observed the scene and rubbed his head. 
"Did I miss something here?"  he asked.          "We'll explain
later,"  said Aladdin.          Then he turned
to Sadira, still angry with her.  She had made him believe that Jasmine no longer loved him.  She had hurt
and humiliated him. And for what? 
"Sadira!" he demanded. "Why did you do this?"          Jasmine saw
Aladdin's anger and jumped between Sadira and him. "Just forget it, Aladdin,"  she said.          Sadira looked
at Jasmine questioningly.  She was sure she would be more angry than anyone else.          "What do you
mean?" asked Aladdin.  "Why are you defending her? Aren't you upset?"          "Of course I'm
upset . . . and disappointed.  I thought Sadira was our friend."  She glanced at Sadira and sighed.  "What
she did was wrong, but I think I
understand."          Aladdin's gaze
moved between Sadira and Jasmine.  "What do you mean you understand? We both know she had no right to do what
she did! She's a witch!"          Jasmine took
Aladdin's hand.  "I know what it's like to be in love with
you."  She looked back at Sadira and
smiled.          "Look, I'm
really sorry,"  Sadira said.  "What I did was stupid.  I
don't blame you for not wanting to be my
friend."          "Maybe we
could give it another try," suggested Jasmine.   "Just no
more spells.  Okay?"          Sadira didn't
answer.  She knew she should be thankful that Jasmine hadn't called the guards to put her in the dungeon, but all she
could think about was how close she had
come.  Without a word, she turned away and began to leave.  Jasmine and Aladdin were talking about
all that had happened that day.  Their
voices followed Sadira down the hall, not letting her forget that Jasmine still had something she wanted . . .
and needed.  

        
Sadira was grateful for the darkness as she walked home.  She
didn't want anyone to see the tears that were
slowly trickling down her face.          She had never
felt more alone than when she entered her empty cavern. Why did this always happen to her?  Why couldn't it turn
out right for once?  Sadira knew she
could have had Jasmine as a friend if her heart wasn't so set on getting Aladdin.  But what did it matter
now?  She had lost the only friendships
she'd ever had.          She stamped
her foot in frustration.   Every time something started to
look up for her, it always blew up in her face. 
And she had been close; if Jasmine hadn't
come, it would have worked . . . she was sure of it.          "It's not
fair!"  she cried.  "What does Jasmine have that I don't
have?" Riches, royalty, and
Aladdin.  She dried her eyes.  "Maybe Jasmine doesn't
have to have Aladdin."          A spell rolled
out of the cabinet and right into her hands.  As she read it, her mind went to work once again.  Her past failures
were suddenly forgotten, and she smiled as she
looked up from the scroll.  "Next time," she whispered.  "It'll work, next time . . ."

The End

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