conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Aladdin, Zahra, Ambadya with the genre: Teen & Young Adult, Science Fiction & Fantasy?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'The Forbidden Wish'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first five paragraphs for this book
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Forbidden Wish
  I am smoke in the lamp, and I curl and stretch, shaking off the lethargy of five hundred years. I feel I have half turned to stone. The sound of his footstep rattles me like a clap of thunder, and I bolt fully awake.
  I push against the sides of the lamp, calling out to him, but of course he cannot hear. He is just a common human boy. He cannot hear the cry of a jinni, a lamp spirit, a granter of wishes.
  The boy is alone, and I sense his cautious footsteps as he crosses the threshold of the hidden cavern. I reach out with my sixth sense, following him as he steps down the narrow stair cut into the sandstone, his fingers trailing along an ancient wall carved with symbols, their meanings lost to time. How strange it is, Habiba, after my long solitude, to feel his presence here: like a light at the bottom of the dark, dark sea.
  I reach as far as I can, sensing his quiet breath, his hammering heart. Who is he? How did he find this place? He is just a boy, a moment in time that will soon pass. I have known a thousand and one like him. I will know a thousand and one more. He is nothing. I tell myself this, so that I will not hope for him. I am not allowed to hope. I am forbidden a wish of my own. And so I will not think of the world above, of the open sky, of the fresh air and the light of day. I will not show how madly, deeply, desperately I want the boy to carry my lamp out of this accursed darkness. Instead, I fold and unfold, I swirl and I curl, waiting with bated breath. My sixth sense is blurred, like watching fish swim in a rippling pool, and I must concentrate very hard to see him at all.
  He carries a small torch, which he holds up as he stares into the great cavern, truly no cave at all but a vast, echoing hall, once part of a great palace lost long ago to war and time. Now it lies deep, deep in the desert, one ruin among many, buried beneath layers of sand and memories.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: five more paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I turn my head and see Aladdin running toward us. When he sees that it's Darian holding me roughly against the wall, his face twists into such rage that he seems unrecognizable.
  He crashes into Darian before the prince has a chance to say anything. The two slam into the ground, Aladdin throwing a punch that cracks against Darian's jaw.
  Aladdin, no fear in his eyes, spits on the floor before rising haughtily to his feet. "It's how we behave toward cowards who can't keep their hands to themselves."
  Sulifer's gaze flickers to me disinterestedly. "Darian, straighten yourself up and come with me. Prince Rahzad, perhaps it is time you retire for the evening. I think our Amulen wine has proven too strong for your senses."
  Darian smirks at that and gives us both threatening looks before joining his father. The two stride away, Darian slightly limping.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last five paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I do, and the now-familiar warmth of his lips steadies me. He tastes of salt and the wine we shared with the others at our small farewell party.
  Aladdin pulls away first and lifts one of my hands to his lips, kissing the delicate henna patterns on my skin, then turning my arm over to kiss the inside of my wrist. The ship's crew makes themselves busy on the other side of the ship, giving us privacy.
  Taking my hand tightly in his, he leads me at a run across the deck, both of us wobbling and stumbling from the roll of the waves. We are laughing and out of breath when we reach the stern, just as the sun begins to peek over the far horizon. The mist on the water catches the light and begins to glow soft and gold, until it seems we are sailing across a sea of clouds.
  He stays with me, and together we watch the sun stain the sea and sky a thousand and one shades of gold. My thumb rubs the ring on my finger, its dents and contours as familiar to me now as my hand.
  Lucy Carson, you've encouraged, guided, and inspired me all the way, and I don't know where I'd be without you. You're part agent, part jinni, part warrioress, and if I had three wishes to give, they'd all be yours!