The carpet under me groaned and sagged. The speed dropped. I felt like a snail in a race.

  “Sorry, buddy,” I whispered to the carpet. “It’s about to get easier.”

  I looked ahead. The princesses were flying about fifty meters in front of me, chatting about their stuff. I quietly nudged the first suitcase with my foot.

  Whoosh.

  It fell into the clouds.

  The carpet rose gratefully.

  “Oh. It works.”

  A minute later, the second bag went flying. Then the hatbox. I dumped ballast methodically, enjoying how the carpet picked up speed and how I finally started leveling with the girls.

  “Hey!” I shouted when I caught up. “And here I am! How’s the flight?”

  Alexia turned, smiled…

  …and then her gaze slid downward.

  She saw her favorite pink suitcase tumbling toward the ground.

  “GREG!!!” Her scream cut through the wind. “WHERE ARE OUR THINGS?!”

  “No idea,” I put on my most innocent face. “Maybe they fell out? Turbulence…”

  “YOU THREW THEM OUT?!” Lianelle yelled. “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH THAT COSTS?! There are couture dresses in there! Cosmetics made from dragon tears! You’ll be paying it off for the rest of your life! Even your grandkids will be paying!”

  The word debt hit me harder than any spell.

  “Oh…” I muttered. “Yeah. I really screwed up.”

  Right then, I felt a strange warmth inside. My body finally beat the virus. My throat stopped hurting. My nose cleared.

  Snap.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  I released a pulse of green magic. The last traces of sickness evaporated. I breathed in the cold air, full and deep.

  “Ahh…” I exhaled. “That’s good.”

  The princesses—still sniffling and red-eyed—stared at me with pure hatred.

  “YOU…” Alexia hissed. “YOU COULD’VE HEALED YOURSELF LIKE THAT THE WHOLE TIME?!”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “But I gave my body a chance. Immune training, you know?”

  “HEAL US. NOW!” Lianelle snapped.

  “But listen,” I started lecturing. “If I вмешаюсь with magic, your body расслабится. Next time the virus meets you—”

  “GREG!!! JUST HEAL US!!!”

  “Okay, okay, hysterics.”

  Snap.

  A green wave rolled over their carpets. Their noses cleared instantly. The cough vanished.

  “Oh…” Lianelle breathed out. “Finally.”

  I lay on my half-empty carpet and thought.

  Healthy, sure—but furious. I’d tossed a fortune into the sky. I had to fix this, or they’d sell me into slavery.

  “Fine,” I sighed.

  I stood up on the flying carpet.

  Pop.

  I vanished.

  I appeared below, in freefall, caught a tumbling box.

  Pop.

  Back on the carpet—threw the box onto the pile.

  Pop.

  I appeared near the ground, grabbed a suitcase a second before it smashed into a rock.

  Pop.

  Back again.

  I flickered back and forth like a broken string of lights. I collected their stuff out of the air, off trees, out of streams.

  Ten minutes later I sat there, panting, on a mountain of reclaimed luggage.

  Only… the condition was… not great.

  Wheels had snapped off. Boxes were crushed. Something suspiciously like expensive perfume was dripping from one bag. A dress stuck out of a crack with a branch hanging off it.

  The princesses stared at the wreckage in horror.

  “Greg…” Alexia said quietly. “Did you… did you break my perfume?”

  I looked at the wet spot.

  “At least it smells nice! The whole forest can enjoy it.”

  I patted a crooked suitcase.

  “It’ll do. The important thing is everything’s here. Almost.”

  They just covered their faces with their hands and groaned.

  We flew for a couple more hours. Down below the landscape started changing. Green forests turned into yellow patches, and then into an endless sea of sand. The heat hit even up here.

  “We’re arriving!” Lianelle called, pointing ahead.

  A city rose among the dunes.

  It wasn’t a stone medieval city like our capital.

  It was an eastern megapolis—golden domes, tall minarets, flying ships (way cooler than our carpets), and massive markets bursting with color. The air smelled of spices, heat, and djinn-magic.

  We began our descent.

  “Welcome to the Sultanate of Azur!” Alexia announced. “The tournament is held here.”

  We landed on a designated platform. A delegation was waiting: men in turbans, women in silk.

  And among them stood a guy—dark-skinned, with a predatory smile and a saber at his hip. He looked at the princesses and bowed.

  “Stars of the North have graced us.”

  Then he looked at me—dragging myself out from under dented suitcases, messy-haired, in my hoodie-jacket.

  “And this…” he smirked, “is the porter?”

  I dusted off my shoulders.

  “I’m your worst nightmare, Aladdin,” I grumbled. “Where can I eat?”