Joseph followed her gaze. “An oil lamp.”
Alex stared. Joseph’s gaze moved between her and the lamp, but he did not offer to remove it from the glass case where it was displayed.
Joseph’s father said something from behind them.
Alex wet her lips. “An Aladdin’s lamp,” she heard herself say.
“It’s just an oil lamp,” Joseph said tersely. “My father asks if you wish for me to take it from the case.”
Alex’s eyes lifted and met Joseph’s. Joseph stepped behind the glass case, opened it, and lifted out the lamp. It shimmered radiantly even in the dimly lit shop.
Suddenly Alex was afraid to move. She did not extend her hand to take the lamp from him.
Joseph’s father stepped forward, grabbing the lamp from his son. His eyes bright, he shoved the lamp toward her. “Aladdin!” he exclaimed. “Yes!”
But Alex, although she itched to take the lamp, touch it, hold it, suddenly backed away. Her cheeks felt hot. She felt breathless, as well. “It’s beautiful, but … no, I don’t think so.” Blackwell’s image flashed through her mind.
Joseph’s father beamed and spoke rapidly, holding up the piece. Alex was probably imagining it, but the lamp seemed to throb and glow. She looked inquiringly at Joseph.
Joseph returned her gaze but said not a word.
“What is your father saying?” Alex asked.
Joseph laid his hand on the case, not far from hers. “My father wants me to tell you about it.”
Alex met his gaze. “Why don’t you want to translate what he is saying?”
Joseph sighed. “My father says that you were right when you said this is a lamp similar to the one used by Aladdin. It is very old. Two hundred years old, at least. It is very valuable and—”
“Two hundred years old!” Alex repeated.
“Yes.”
Alex felt faint. This lamp was a connection to Blackwell—she was certain of it! For, at the very least, this lamp had existed in his lifetime—perhaps it had even been in Tripoli when he had been a captive here. Was that why she was so drawn to this lamp? “Is this lamp native to the area?”
“Yes,” Joseph said slowly. “My father claims it is from the palace. That one of the women there in the royal family owned it.”
Alex looked at it more closely. Blackwell’s lover had belonged to the royal family.
“I don’t think you should buy this lamp, Alex,” Joseph said.
Alex stared into his pale eyes. “Are you psychic?”
“No.”
The old man was speaking rapidly. Joseph wet his lips. “My father wants me to tell you that it is a magical lamp. But we both know that is nonsense. Don’t we, Alex?”
Alex’s gaze was on the beautiful shimmering lamp. Of course it was nonsense. There was no such thing as a magic lamp, a genie’s lamp, a lamp that could make wishes come true.
Joseph’s father shouted at them both.
Alex was jerked out of her trance. “Is he angry?” she asked Joseph.
He nodded. “My father swears on the Koran that it has great magic for the right person.”
“You’re not going to tell me that it will make all of my wildest dreams come true!” Alex laughed shakily. But she was a stupid romantic fool, and the wordswhatifhad popped into her head.
“I won’t,” Joseph said, unsmiling. “But my father thinks it will.”
