“If you say so,” Aladdin said, shrugging.
When they finally arrived at the surface, it was night. The passage ended in a rather inglorious drain hole near where the workhorses and camels were stabled in the back side of the palace, beyond the outer wall. It reeked of animal piss, and Aladdin had to let the old man clamber onto his shoulders to get out. On the bright side, no one was around to see them.
Aladdin leapt out and took a deep breath of the fresh air. Although the sky was clear, the stars twinkled madly with desert sand and dust that was blown across them. He frowned. Not a good night to go adventuring in the desert. But fortune favored the brave, and he certainly wanted a fortune.
He looked at his companion with a critical eye. The old man seemed like he was going to collapse in a pile of bones right there.
Aladdin murmured softly to the animals in the stable. He picked out an unflashy, sturdy little horse and lifted the old man onto it.
“The stable boy whose charge is this horse will receive fifty lashes for losing him,” the old man said, cackling in delight as he gripped the reins.
“We will be back before dawn if your stories are true, Grandfather,” Aladdin said, dislike for his partner growing. “And I will tip the poor boy well.”
In the desert the winds swirled the sand into choking dust devils, and Aladdin had to cover his face with his vest. His feet kept slipping into the shifting dunes. The horse was slightly more accustomed to the terrain but whinnied and protested constantly.
It was not an easy trip.
The old man looked up at the stars. He muttered into the hump on his back, as if confirming his calculations. Eventually Sirius rose like the eye of a baleful ifrit over the chill desert and they arrived at a solid cliff of bedrock. Below it was a wide bowl—a valley of sand, beautiful in the starlight, but desolate and deadly. There were no plants here, no lizards, not even stray stones.
Aladdin helped the old man down off the horse. Muttering and murmuring, the man drew something out of his rags, cupping his hands as if it was alive. As if it was something that might escape. Finally he spread his fingers and revealed his prize.
A golden scarab rested in his palm. At first Aladdin thought it was a piece of jewelry or a statue, maybe with a treasure map on its back.
Then it opened its golden outer wings to reveal a set of flight wings—also made of gold.
It sparkled and glowed and flew into the air with a heavy buzzing sound.
Aladdin jumped back.
The beautiful, frightening thing flew off into the valley with the directness of something not entirely insect-like. It circled around a large mound as if deciding what to do and then plunged deep into the sands.
Almost instantly the dunes slid forward in a disturbing way. Something large, something very unnatural was rippling and rising to the surface. A giant stone head of a tiger emerged, moving and growling and tossing like it was alive.
Aladdin prepared to run, but no more of the tiger appeared: just the head. It did not seem able to move and lacked the body of a sphinx.
Its eyes glowed like twin suns.
“Who disturbs my slumber?”
It was hard to say if the words were actually spoken aloud; the ground rumbled, the sky thundered, the tiger roared.
Aladdin backed away, almost tripping over his own feet.
This was not what he had signed up for. A dangerous trip into a deep, dark cave, yes. A jaunt into the middle of the desert at night, sure. This was too much. There had been no mention of a giant talking stone tiger with the voice of an ancient god.
The old man made an impatient go ahead movement with his hands.
“What?” Aladdin demanded. “Are you crazy?”
“You want the princess, boy?” his companion asked with a sneer.
Yes. Yes, he did.
Aladdin took a deep breath and tried to steady his nerves.
“Uh…it is I! Aladdin!” he shouted, feeling more than a little foolish.
The tiger was silent for a moment.
Aladdin got ready to run for his life.
“Proceed.”
The rumbles were softer, as if it was less angry.
“Touch nothing but the lamp.”
Its mouth snapped open, revealing a wide golden gullet. Down its tongue traveled a golden staircase. Aladdin couldn’t see to the bottom. He took a tentative step forward.
“Remember, boy, just fetch me the lamp!” the old man shouted, unconsciously imitating the tiger. “Get me the lamp and I shall make sure you get your reward!”
Aladdin thought of Jasmine.
He set his jaw.
“C’mon, Abu,” he said, and began to go down the steps.
The golden stairs very quickly revealed themselves to be disappointingly normal stone, only lit golden by whatever was below. But the sheer number of them was breathtaking: the path dipped and curved through the darkness as far as the eye could see. Several times when Aladdin thought they had reached the end, the stairs began again into a deeper descent.
Into—Aladdin was more than a little relieved to see—an absolutely enormous, normal cave. Not a stomach.
At the far side of the cave was a somewhat anticlimactic stone doorway that glowed so brightly from whatever was in the room behind it that Aladdin had to cover his eyes as he went in.
“Would you look at that,” he said, when he passed through to the other side, a wide grin growing across his face.
Gold. Ridiculous, ludicrous, unimaginable piles of it. Entire hillsides of coins, cups, urns, and statues. Giant golden cauldrons stuffed to overflowing with necklaces, rings, bracelets, and other trinkets. Golden thrones. Golden tables. Golden bric-a-brac shaped like fruit for no conceivable purpose other than to look at.
And among all this, rugs of indescribable beauty and size and chests full of jewels shaped like berries and flowers.
“Just a handful of this would make me richer than the sultan,” Aladdin sighed.
Abu chittered. Light sparkled on the closest chest, bouncing off a ruby the size of an apple.
The little monkey made a beeline for it.
“Abu!”
Aladdin ran desperately after the little monkey and did something he never normally would have. He grabbed the monkey’s tail and pulled him back.
Abu squawked at the indignity and tried to stop himself by digging his hind claws into the rich purple-and-blue rug they were standing on.
“Don’t. Touch. Anything,” Aladdin chastised, shaking his finger at his friend. “Remember what that big, scary cat thing said? Whose stomach we are currently in? We gotta find that lamp. First. Then we’ll get our reward.”
He plucked the monkey off the ground and set him securely on his shoulder.
“It’s got to be around here somewhere.…”
He wandered the path around the treasures carefully, making certain never to come too close to any of them. He kept one hand on Abu, just in case.
The monkey chittered irritably.
“I don’t know,” Aladdin answered, as if it was a real question. “A little oil lamp, I guess. The old man obviously thought we could carry it out easily. I see cups and pitchers and plates and vases and other house-y stuff, but no lamps yet.…”
The monkey chittered again. He sounded nervous this time and kept glancing behind them.
“Sorry, I’m looking as fast as I can,” Aladdin said, continuing their imaginary conversation. “It’s not like I can touch anything to move it aside.…”