The Stone Lions (14 page)

“We’re not interested in your bizarre
excuses,” the other man went on. “If we don’t see progress, and
soon, you may not be as valuable to the King of Castile as you
think.”

“Keep your voice down, I tell you,” the wazir
repeated. “You want the whole palace up in arms? I said I would
hand you the key to the Alhambra, and I shall. Look here, see the
pattern? Watch as I break it.”

Ara and Layla held tightly to each other. Ara
felt a gut-wrenching pull as the wazir’s magic tugged at the
Alhambra.

“See, another symmetry broken. My magic
doesn’t fail me. You infidels are so easily discouraged. I grow
stronger and persevere. Don’t underestimate me, knight,” the wazir
said, gathering back his confidence.

“Islamic boor. I should kill you now and be
done with it,” the Christian growled.

“Fool, I have more power in my little finger
than you and that Spanish stick you call a sword can muster.” A pop
sounded and smoke drifted around the corner. “Take this to your
lord as a reminder, never threaten a mathemagician.”

“My feet!” The words were a wail.
“
Ay Dios mio
! I have hooves like a donkey,”
the knight shrieked. “What evil have you done? I’ll kill you for
this.” Ara heard a clip clopping that echoed in the room.

“Not if you ever wish to be whole again.” The
wazir laughed. “Return to your people. Let them know who is
powerful here.”

Ara reached trembling fingers to Layla and
yanked, motioning her to retreat back down the hallway. Silently,
they crept, holding their breath, afraid that at any moment the
wazir would come striding down the hall. When they were far enough
away, they bolted for their room.

Chapter 20

The next morning, Ara woke with a start. She
had slept uneasily, dreaming of being chased by a Christian-garbed
donkey with an evil grin.

Layla still slept, a wary look flittering
across her face. As usual, Su’ah was awake and puttering about,
building up the fire and laying out their clothes. Ara rolled out
of bed.

“Up early, are you?” Su’ah asked. “You must
have had quite the fright. I heard about that horrible boy. Why
would anyone want to hurt Layla? The servants overheard the
commotion in the guest quarters last night. His father was most
displeased. That child won’t be sitting down for some time.” She
leaned out of the window to shake dust from a carpet. In the
distance, a rooster crowed.

“Su’ah, would you mind walking with me this
morning? I need to go down to the Gilded Hall, and I don’t wish to
go by myself,” Ara asked, nervous about a chance confrontation with
the wazir.

“Now?”

“I need to find something. It won’t take
long. It’s important, and I really am a bit afraid to go alone,”
she insisted.

Su’ah sighed and looked around at all the
work still to be done. With a small shake of her head, she
conceded, “Of course, child. I understand. If my aged company would
give you comfort, I would be pleased to go. There are too many
strangers wandering these halls. And that undisciplined boy. He
wouldn’t have behaved like that had he been in my charge,” she
continued with an emphatic nod of her head. “I know how to raise a
well-mannered child.”

Together, they walked down the stairs and
through the Court of the Myrtles before heading into the Gilded
Court.

“My, my, someone brought an animal in here.”
Su’ah frowned at the hoof prints. “Look at that floor. Hoof prints
all over. Zoriah won’t be pleased that livestock was brought into
the hall. I had better call a servant to mop this up.”

She stopped a passing slave-girl and spoke to
her, pointing at the offending scuffmarks. Ara scooted past a large
urn and into a small alcove.

“Ara, where are you?”

“Over here,” she called out as she peered
through an arched doorway. She searched the walls from top to
bottom. Only a single sad twisted tile remained from the wazir’s
magic, but not a horizontal symmetry.

“Soon all will be well,” she whispered,
touching it gently. She turned toward Su’ah. “I’m ready to go.”

“What were you looking for? Did you tell me
before? My mind isn’t as sharp as it once was,” Su’ah lamented,
shaking her head.

“I thought I left a lute string in here last
week, but I don’t see it.” Ara felt uncomfortable at deceiving her,
but she knew how Su’ah liked to talk. If word got back to the wazir
that she searched for symmetries, broken symmetries…she cringed at
the thought.

“Child, you’d lose your hand if it weren’t
attached. Let’s go back. I’m sure we can find another lute string.
I have to get you and Layla off to the baths, dressed and ready for
the day’s meeting with those foreigners.”

Su’ah frowned. “Now, you remember, if that
boy even looks at you oddly, you come tell your old Su’ah, and I’ll
deal with him myself.” She puffed herself up like a hen preparing
to defend her chicks.

Ara smiled, thinking about Su’ah and the
ginger-haired boy. She would wager on Su’ah every time, though
wagering was forbidden. She slowed her pace to match her elder's as
they walked back up to their sleeping quarters. “Must we join them
this morning?” she asked. “Even after what happened with
Layla?”

“I wasn’t told either way, but you must be
ready and willing if your father deems it so. He is the sultan. His
word is law.”

Layla was awake and dressed by the time they
returned, curious where they had gone so early in the morning. Her
eyes widened at Ara when Su’ah told her where they had been.

“Did you find what you were seeking?” she
asked.

Ara shook her head. “I didn’t see the lute
string.”

Su’ah began grumbling again. “Hoof prints in
the courtyard! Some hooligan brought a horse or donkey into the
Gilded Court. I hope no one saw this and thinks we live like that.
Maybe the Infidels let livestock into their homes, but not in this
palace!” She hesitated at the door. “You girls head off to the
baths, and don’t dawdle now.”

Layla finished putting on her sandals before
saying. “Ara, today’s our last day to find the horizontal symmetry,
right?”

“Yes, but we’ll find it,” Ara said, to
reassure Layla—and herself.

“That’s not what I was thinking about.” Layla
paused. “What will Suleiman change into the next time?”

Confused at her cousin’s line of thought, Ara
shrugged. “I don’t know, another animal of some sort.”

“Yes, but we have him in my embroidery
basket. What if he turns into an elephant and runs trumpeting
through the palace. Or a bee and wanders off into the gardens or
worse, a fish? There are many things he could turn into and
disappear or die. We might never find him.”

Ara looked at Layla in dawning horror. Why
hadn’t she thought of that before? Both girls sat on the floor and
frowned.

“Well, we’d better keep the basket close to
us and try
not
to find this broken symmetry
when other people are around, just in case,” Ara agreed, trying to
think where she could hide an elephant.

“Let’s go bathe and get dressed. Maybe we’ll
be lucky, and he'll change into something small, cute and cuddly.”
Layla said. She checked on the still-sleeping Suleiman before
taking up his basket. They gathered the rest of their things and
walked down to the baths.

“At least the People of the Book leave
today,” Ara said to lift their mood. “I’ll be happy to see that
ginger-haired boy go. I do like Lady Anna though. She is nice and
smells of lavender.”

“Me too. Have you heard how the talks are
going? Mother says a treaty could help keep the peace between us
and the Christians.”

“Father is still angry with me. I haven’t
seen him at all.” Ara missed the comfort of her father’s smile. “In
any case, we need to prevent the wazir from undoing the Alhambra’s
magic. Treaty or no treaty, the Castile King might claim
Granada.”

“Couldn’t Tahirah do some magic to stop him?
Turn him into a toad or something?”

“A Sufi’s magic is in learning and knowledge.
Because she is a Sufi, she can do good, but she can’t harm others.
That would be evil in the eyes of Allah,” Ara said, remembering a
discussion from her teachers. “Though I wondered about that
slingshot breaking just as she came into the room, didn’t you?”

Chapter 21

Maryam hurried toward them as the cousins
headed back up the stairs. They had bathed and dressed and felt
ready to face the outsiders once again.

“I’ve been looking for you two. The sultan
needs you to join us for breakfast. The Christians are leaving this
morning. Not soon enough for me, but soon. Lady Anna asked your
father if you would translate for her again.” A small smile escaped
Maryam otherwise serious expression. “I have been told that Lady
Theresa’s son will not be dining with us today. He has been
afflicted with some slight ailment, one that makes it difficult for
him to sit. Nothing catching, I understand.” She winked.

Ara groaned. She had hoped to avoid their
guests. Layla gave her mother a crooked smile. “I’m to go
also?”

“Yes, the foreign women were embarrassed by
yesterday’s incident, and they wish to make amends. It would be a
courtesy if you allowed them that opportunity,” Maryam said. “I was
pleased with the way both of you handled yourselves last night. You
two helped prevent a dispute between us and the foreigners.”

She grabbed her hijab and slid it over her
head. “Come, we must go to the Kings’ Hall and join our
company.”

At the look from the girls, she explained,
“Many men will be attending, and I don’t want to feel naked before
them. Soon you also will wear a hijab, but that time is not
yet.”

Maryam’s eyes developed an impish twinkle. “I
hesitate to mention this, but recently that embroidery basket is
always with you. I never see the two of you without it. Ara, don’t
tell me you’ve suddenly become fascinated with embroidery?”

Both girls looked at one another and then the
basket. Ara was the first to recover. “Zoriah is concerned with my
skill at sewing. Layla’s been helping me to work on my stitches.
Her basket has more room in it to carry things.”

Maryam looked at the two girls and raised an
eyebrow.

Ara thought the basket on her arm must shine
like a beacon, drawing unwanted attention as they walked along. She
and Layla tried to act casually, not looking at the basket.
Instead, she forced herself to stare at the arched doorway coming
up. A broken horizontal symmetry leapt out at her, and it writhed
before her eyes, healing. A chorus of roars reverberated through
the Alhambra. Ara stopped to listen, but before she could identify
where the noise came from, the basket jerked. A rousing thump and a
squeak came from inside it. Maryam looked at the basket and then at
the girls.

“I…I have to go outside,” Ara stammered.

Layla edged toward the gardens. “I’ll go with
her. We’ll be right back.”

“I think that might be best,” Maryam agreed
with an amused smile. “And before you return, make sure any animals
that might be in the basket are released outside.”

The girls turned and ran.

“What happened?” Layla asked. “I thought we
were trying not to find the broken symmetry until we were
alone.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Ara explained, hurrying
out the door. “It was just there! Now what are we going to do? Your
mother knows we have something in the basket. She thinks we’re
going to let it go, and we can’t.”

“We’ll have to carry him without the basket,”
Layla said. She raised her eyes toward Allah. “Please, let him be
cute and cuddly this time.”

They carefully lifted the lid of the basket
and peered inside. Layla jumped and then wrinkled her nose as she
always did when displeased.

“Oh, no.” Ara sighed. “Well, at least he’s
small.”

A plain brown, rather chubby mouse stared up
at them. “I’m hungry,” he squeaked.

“Not now, Suleiman,” Ara said. “We have to go
to the Kings’ Hall. We’ll feed you later. Here, climb onto my hand
and you can hide in my sleeve. We can’t hide you in my basket
anymore—Layla’s mother is suspicious. Just don’t move around. I’m
ticklish.”

“Rice,” Suleiman squeaked as he scrabbled
onto Ara’s outstretched palm.

“What?” the girls said together.

“That’s what I eat,” he announced, sitting
straight up and staring determinedly at Ara. “You didn’t feed me
the whole time I was a snake,” he added, a bit of anger in his tiny
voice.

Ara brought her hand up to eye level and
carefully stroked the mouse across the head with the tip of her
finger. “Suleiman, you’ve got to be patient. We must go back to my
aunt now. She’s waiting for us. Food has to wait.”

“But I hunger,” his slightly muffled squeak
insisted again as Ara pushed him up her sleeve until he was hidden
in the folds of her caftan.