The Secret of Ka (6 page)

I did not have the heart to tell him that the Hilton was an American hotel.

"Our food's almost as good," I said.

While we ate, the inevitable happened. Even though his bathrobe was large, the material was bulky, and it had probably not been easy for him to tie the end of the right arm. I don't think he had even tried, and at one point the sleeve slid up and his stump was exposed. Even though I averted my eyes, I was not quick enough. He saw that I saw, and he lowered his head in shame.

I didn't know what to say, but felt I should say something.

"I'm sorry," I said.

He was a long time responding. "Why are you sorry?"

"I'm sorry for ... prying."

A note of bitterness entered his voice. It was not aimed at me, I knew, but it made me sad nevertheless. "I'm not ashamed of it," he said.

"Why should you be?" I gushed.

"I was not born this way, you know. I lost the hand in an accident."

"I know," I said.

He looked up. "How do you know?"

"I mean, I assumed you did," I said. "It's hardly noticeable."

"It was the first thing you noticed about me."

"Not true. The first thing I noticed about you was that you liked knocking me to the floor."

"You were trying to steal my package."

"I was trying to get to know you."

He blinked, startled. "Why?"

"Because you looked interesting."

He shook his head. "You just wanted me to lead you to your father."

"That was just an excuse. The main reason I ran over to the counter was to ... to say hi."

"You have a strange way of saying hi, Sara."

"Thank you." I sat back on my knees. "Now tell me how you lost your hand."

"Why?"

"I want to know. I want to know you, Amesh. In case you didn't notice, we're in the middle of a strange adventure together. And I have a feeling it's going to get stranger before it's over."

"There was an accident at my job. I lost it. What else can I say?"

I put my right hand on his left knee. "That's fine; you don't have to say any more. But I wish you would. I wish you'd tell me exactly what you went through. Because I know it hurts, what happened, and if we're to be friends then I should know what happened."

He looked away, out at the calm blue of the sea, then back at his plate. "Can I finish my supper first?" he asked.

"Sure." I returned to my seat. "You have to finish all the desserts, too."

"All right," he muttered, returning to his steak.

It didn't take as long as I thought it would for him to finish everything. Okay, I helped with the cheesecake and ice cream. But soon Amesh was telling me what happened to his hand, and when he was done I went out on the balcony to check on his clothes. They were virtually dry, holding on to just a few drops of moisture, which would help with the ironing. And I felt I had to iron them; I had talked him into washing them and now they were all wrinkled.

The ironing board was not in the bathroom or living room. I searched my bedroom and found it in my closet. It was only while I was stepping back into the center of the suite that I realized something was wrong.

I panicked. "Amesh!" I cried.

He was beside me in a moment. "What's wrong?"

I was close to tears. "The carpet! It's gone!"

His dark eyes scanned the area. Then he relaxed. He pointed outside the sliding glass door that led to my private balcony. It also overlooked the sea, although it faced south rather than west. Like the main balcony, it was equipped with two lounge chairs.

One was occupied. By the carpet.

It seemed to be relaxing beneath the evening stars.

We took a step closer and realized it was doing more than that.

"Allah..."

"God..."

We both whispered in awe.

T
HE FEW STARS
in the evening sky were causing the stars in the center of the carpet to glow with a soft light. In some mysterious way, the carpet was tied to the heavens.

Plus, the carpet had climbed off the bed, strolled onto the balcony, and made itself comfortable in a lounge chair. With each passing miracle, the case grew stronger that we had discovered something truly magical.

When we showed the carpet to the world, we'd be famous. We'd probably be on the cover of every magazine in the world.

Yet, the odd thing was, the more I contemplated how rich and famous the carpet could make us, the less wonderful I felt. Indeed, I started to feel sick to my stomach, and I quickly identified what the problem was. We had to keep the carpet secret. I just knew it. Call it intuition, call it paranoia, but I didn't want anyone to know about it.

I worried about how I could make Amesh understand.

We were still on the balcony when he turned to me. "I don't think we should try to sell this for money."

I felt a wave of relief. "You feel the same way I do. It has to be protected." I paused. "We have to keep it totally secret. I swear I won't tell my father about it."

"I swear I won't tell my Papi about it."

"What about Mira?"

"What about her?"

"Amesh!"

"I share everything with Mira. We're practically the same person. I'm not kidding; even if I don't tell her about it, she'll know. She can read my mind. She'll know something's up."

"Let her know something is up. Just don't tell her it's a magic carpet."

Amesh hesitated. "All right."

"I'm serious. I need you to swear on Allah's name."

He shook his head. "I told you, that's blasphemy."

"It's blasphemy when you use Allah's name for something trivial. This may be the single most important discovery in the history of the human race. Swear to Allah that you'll keep the carpet secret. At least until we both agree it can't be kept a secret any longer."

He paused. "All right. But you have to do the same."

"Fine. I swear on the holy name of Allah that I'll never..."

"Stop!"

"What's wrong?"

"You're not a Muslim. You can't swear to Allah."

"Why not?"

"He's not your God. You have to swear to Jesus."

"But I don't go to church regularly."

"You don't? Why not?"

"I don't know. Why don't you pray to Allah five times a day?"

"I do."

"Gimme a break. I haven't seen you pray once."

"I do it when you're not looking."

"You mean, you were praying in the bathtub?"

"Yes."

"Didn't you get water up your nose when you bowed down?"

"Don't make fun of our prayers."

"I'm sorry. Let me start over. I swear to the Father; and to the Son, Jesus; and to the Holy Spirit, that I'll keep secret the unique and mysterious qualities of this carpet."

"Why don't you just say you'll keep the
carpet
secret?"

"I would but there's a good chance my father will see it. I'm going to tell him it's just something I bought."

Amesh shook his head. "You're not keeping it here."

"What are you talking about? Of course I'm keeping it here."

"It would be safer at my house."

"Your house? I don't want to hurt your feelings, but from what you've told me, your neighborhood's not that safe. Besides, you're gone all day at work."

"That's why Mira..."

"Mira's ten! She can't be trusted with a secret this big! Plus you promised not to tell her!"

"All right, you can keep it here." Amesh lowered his head. "I swear on Allah's holy name to keep the carpet secret."

"Thank you." I gave him a hug. I had not known him long but somehow trusted that his word was good.

His body was pretty good, too. I let the hug linger; he did not push me away. I rested my head near his collar, on the left side, where I could hear his heart beating.

Like mine, it was pounding.

But it was no time to fool around. He would have been too shy, anyway. Not that I wasn't feeling shy, too. Sad to say but I was fifteen and had never been kissed.

We turned back to the carpet. It was still acting like a mirror of the heavens. The darker the sky got, the brighter the carpet's stars became.

"While you were in the bathtub, I read up on magic carpets," I said. "They're historically connected to genies, or what you guys call
djinn.
Did you know the djinn are mentioned in the Koran? It speaks of them like they're real."

Amesh hesitated. "My Papi said something about that. Did you find out anything about how to operate the carpet?"

"Many magic carpets are controlled by spells or incantations. If you know the secret words, and repeat them three times, then the carpet lifts into the air."

"A lot of good that does us," he grumbled.

"I felt the same way until I discovered another technique listed on two sites. They said magic carpets don't fly just anywhere, but follow what are called ley lines. Have you heard of them?"

"No."

"I hadn't either. The British are the experts on them. Ley lines deal with lines of magnetic energy that cover the earth. There are legitimate scientists who have mapped them throughout England. Stonehenge, for example, is supposed to be a focal point of dozens of ley lines. That's why it's considered a place of mystical power."

"We're not taking the carpet to England."

"We don't have to! I'm just saying the British studied them. There are probably as many here as there are there. We just have to find them."

"You think the carpet will fly on such lines?"

"It's possible. We know the carpet has twice tried to fly in this suite. But it's never really taken off. Maybe it can't without a ley line to float on."

"Did these sites tell you how to find one?"

"Just hold a compass in your hand, and when you cross a ley line, the needle will dance."

"Dance?"

"It will start spinning like crazy."

"Why?"

"A compass is sensitive to magnetic fields, and ley lines give off strong fields. From what I've read, the lines are all over the place. We shouldn't have to go far to find one."

Amesh was surprised. "You want to look for one now?"

"Why not?"

"It's getting late. Your father will be home soon. My Papi will be waiting for me. Let's look for one tomorrow, during the day."

"You're working all day tomorrow. Even if you call in sick, it's too hot to go hiking when the sun's up. You might be used to this climate, but I'm not."

"I can look for one while you wait here."

"Listen. There are other reasons I want to do it tonight. The carpet came alive as soon as it got dark. The stars at the center might have been glowing before, and we just didn't notice, but I don't think so. It's possible the carpet only flies at night."

"What's another reason?"

"Common sense. If we do find a ley line, and we're able to use it to ride the carpet, then no one can see us. Since I got here, I've been hiking in the evening by the water." I pointed. "The beach is usually deserted, and I have the place to myself. There's lots of room. I wouldn't be surprised if that's where we find a ley line."

"Does your dad know you hike there?"

"Of course not."

"You shouldn't go out after dark."

"I know, it's an Arab country and I might be killed. What is it with you males? I feel as safe here as I do in any American city."

Amesh hesitated. "Do you plan to ride the carpet over the water?"

"If that's the direction the ley line goes."

"Do you have a compass?"

"One. But maybe we can buy another in the hotel shop. That way we can search together."

Amesh glanced at the carpet and smiled. "What are we waiting for?"

B
EFORE WE LEFT THE ROOM,
I changed into jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Then I packed a bag of supplies: bottles of water, binoculars, protein bars, candy bars, a flashlight, a map of Turkey and the surrounding area, a jacket. I also left my father a note explaining that I had been invited to a slumber party by a girl named Rini.

Rini was a real girl. I had mentioned her to my father before. In fact, he had met her; she worked at the hotel as a maid. He wouldn't worry if I was hanging out with her, even during the night. But he would still be annoyed I hadn't called and asked his permission.

"You think we'll be gone that long?" Amesh asked as he watched me prop up my note.

"Best to be prepared. You should call your Papi and tell him you might be staying overnight with a friend."

He looked uncomfortable. "He wouldn't believe that."

"Why not?"

"I don't have many friends."

"All you need is one. What about Spielo? Wouldn't he back you up?"

"Spielo's still in the hospital," he said.

"Is he okay?"

"They say he's going to be fine."

"Then use another friend."

Amesh fidgeted. "Let's not worry about it."

"All right," I agreed, going against my gut feeling.

The sun had completely set by the time we reached the beach. The night was as black as the bottom of the carpet. Amesh carried our supplies while I held our prize. Once again, I was amazed by its weightlessness. It was as if holding it to my chest made me feel lighter.

The night was warm and dry, but a faint breeze stirred over the water, adding a salty flavor to the air. I felt its coolness on my neck as we took out our compasses and figured out which way was north. I double-checked the accuracy of our tools by following the cup of the Big Dipper to the North Star—a trick I had learned from my dad. Both compasses were working. Now all we had to do was find a spot—no, a line—where they didn'tw ork.

We walked near the water. I took off my shoes and let the foam wash over my bare feet. Amesh preferred to stay on the dry sand. The beach was deserted. The glow of the stars embedded in the carpet did not waver. There was no denying it—the carpet was reacting to the nighttime sky.

"I wonder why," I muttered.

"Sara?" he asked.

"Why the carpet likes the stars."

"You would have to ask the man who made it."

"How do you know it was a man? Maybe it was a woman."

"Maybe it was a team of men and women."