The Stone Lions (25 page)

She and Layla walked across the Court of the
Lions toward the Hall of the Two Sisters, nodding to the lions as
they passed.

I need to find
Suleiman.
Ara thought about the high outer walls of the
palace. I bet I could climb over the palace walls and find him.
He’d come as soon as he saw her, she felt sure. Then the wazir
would never find him. She started smiling to herself as a plan
began to take shape.
I will be like the Prophet’s
favorite wife A’isha, who led the Battle of the Camel. A true
Muslim heroine.

There was a wonderfully branched tree near
the far north wall. It wasn’t securely guarded in the middle of the
day. She could scamper up and get to the top of the outside wall.
The stables must have a rope. She could be over, find Suleiman and
get back before anyone notices. She hummed quietly, a new lilt to
her walk.

Behind her, a shape disconnected itself from
the fountain and stealthily trailed after her.

In the Hall of the Two Sisters, Layla found a
glide reflection and showed it to her cousin. Ara nodded,
distracted.
How was she ever going to get across
the wall walkway?

Layla cocked her head. “Are you all right?
You have been muttering to yourself for a while. You’re not
planning anything dangerous, are you?” Suspicion had crept into her
voice.

Ara frowned. “Don’t be silly. Of course I’m
thinking, but nothing dangerous. We need to go by the stables.
There are tiles on the floor we should check.”

Layla missed a step. “The stables,
but…Tahirah told us to stay near the harem.”

“You can stay. But I’m going.” Ara moved
quickly out the doors and headed toward the stables. After a
moment’s hesitation, Layla followed.

Ara knew what she had to do. The wazir was
out hunting Suleiman, and she needed to protect her friend. She
frowned and picked up the pace. Layla trailed behind, asking, “Are
you sure we need to go there?”

Ara nodded, focused on the stable and her
plans. As they rounded the corner of the garden, the stables came
into view, and she walked faster.

Layla placed her hand on her friend’s
shoulder. “Promise, promise me you’re not thinking of doing
anything risky.”

Ara shrugged her hand off. “Stop. I’ll be
right out. You stay here in case someone comes.” She crept quietly
into the back of the stables. The horses snuffled at her, looking
for treats and a rub on the nose.

She grabbed a rope and a long piece of cotton
cloth and slung both over her shoulder, then grabbed a small bow
and quiver from the wall.

When Ara emerged, Layla looked aghast. “What
have—no! It’s too dangerous.”

Ara trotted to the base of the high palace
walls and checked the lower branches of the tree as she tied the
cloth into a passable turban. “This isn’t the first time I’ve
climbed this.”

“You can’t leave the Alhambra. Think of what
your father would say. Please, we have to finish finding the
symmetries. You promised Tahirah!”

Rearranging the rope and bow onto her back,
Ara countered, “I’m going to find Suleiman. I’m not going to let
the wazir hurt him, and that’s that.” She set her jaw and turned
her back.

“You can’t go.” Layla grabbed her cousin’s
arm. “What about the magic? You need to find it
here
.”

Ara shook her off before reaching upward to
the tree. She placed her foot on a low, thick branch. “If
Suleiman’s dead, the magic doesn’t matter anymore. The Alhambra
will fall. Remember what Tahirah said? Only his changing back to
his human form can save it. I’m going. Don’t try to stop me. If
Suleiman dies and the Alhambra’s magic fails, it’ll be my
fault.”

Layla gasped, and Ara felt someone tugging on
the other end of the rope. “Layla, stop it. I must go.”

“That isn’t me,” her cousin said in a hushed
voice. “I think you better let go of that tree.”

Chapter 36

Ara felt hot breath on her neck and nervously
turned to see a mouth with many large teeth curved in an angry
snarl. A lion stood with one foot on her rope and stared at her,
unblinking.

“Child of the Alhambra,” he rumbled, “your
duty is here. Do you abandon your obligations so readily?”

Ara blinked. Her lion! Her fingers slipped
from the branch, and she fell to the ground with a thud. Layla
stared openmouthed at the lion, as if relieved in a frightened sort
of way. Gold sparkled in his mane. His feet and legs seemed covered
in quartz; the long curved claws, ivory. His eyes shone with the
fire of coal turning into diamonds; his fur glistened like mica.
Ara gazed at him in wonder. Finally, she grinned and shook herself,
disregarding his reproach. “You’re here and talking to me! I have
been hoping for so long that you would.”

He was silent for some time before he spoke
again. “Do you so weary of your responsibilities that you let
others down and quit?”

She stiffened at the criticism. “No, not at
all. I’m not quitting, I’m going to rescue Suleiman!”

“By leaving the palace, you put yourself at
risk. Without you, there will be no healing of the Alhambra, and
Suleiman will never return to his normal shape. You put all in
peril to soothe your own childish desires and fears.” He glared at
her in disapproval. “There are times to hunt and times to remain
silent while danger walks the paths.”

She frowned back. That wasn’t so. She wasn’t
soothing her own fears. Suleiman could be in danger. She wasn’t
making it up.

The voice rumbled again. “You have not found
the broken symmetry. Do you believe the earth will stop turning
because you wish it?”

Ara replied. “No, but…”

“But…?” he snarled. “Tell me how you planned
to return to the Alhambra before the sands of time ran out. You
with two feet and no wings.”

“I’m quick. I would be back soon,” she
insisted, more and more annoyed at her lion’s disapproval. Maybe
she shouldn’t have wished to speak to him. She liked him better
when he was silent.

He sat down and started casually licking his
paw, one foot still on her rope. “Is it that you have no trust in
Suleiman? Do you think him reckless?”

“No, Suleiman is very capable,” Ara had to
admit. “He is careful and thoughtful.”

“Unlike some whom we love whose nature runs
to impulse.” The lion winked at Layla, who watched the debate,
scarcely breathing. He shifted his weight, releasing the rope. “Yet
quickness of mind and spirit are admirable qualities in a cub. Such
cubs grow into lions with intelligence and leadership. There are
times in the hunt when it is good to sprint, to react fast and
change directions. There are other times to quietly lie down with
your pack and study your prey. This is one of those times. You need
to remain steadfast and trust that Suleiman also keeps to his
task.” The lion snarled suddenly, uneasy. “I must go. The wazir’s
magic presses in on me. Find the symmetries.” Silver lights
twinkled as he began to disappear. “Suleiman and the wazir both
return from the north.”

“Wait! Does the wazir have Suleiman? What’s
happening? Wait, your name, what’s your name?”

A whispered growl drifted across the air.
“The wazir’s magic constricts my brothers and me. Break the bonds
and complete the magic so we may also do our duty.”

Ara sat on the ground stunned. “But I still
don’t know your name.”

Layla, her eyes still huge, reached down to
tug her cousin up. “Ara, your lion! He is so beautiful and huge!
Those teeth…” She took a breath. “What should we do now?”

Ara stood, not quite able to meet her
cousin’s eyes. “We find the symmetry. But we shouldn’t heal it
until we know where Suleiman is and that he is safe.” She was quiet
for a moment. “Cousin, I am sorry I did not listen to you. You were
right.”

Layla looked at her with pain-filled eyes and
whispered. “I didn’t know what to do. I kept thinking about the
dangers outside, that you might get hurt and we would never find
the remaining symmetries.”

Ara flinched and reddened. Layla gave her a
hug. “We are friends as well as cousins. All is well between
us.”

Ara grinned in relief before grabbing the
equipment from the ground. “Let us go, then.” She looked at the bow
and rope in her hand, then looked around in dismay. “I’ll return
these as soon as Suleiman is back and transformed.” Hastily she and
Layla stuffed the tools deep into a hedge of low bushes and, after
a last look, hurried toward the palace.

On the way, Ara mulled over her exchange with
her lion. Maybe it was true that she needed to be more careful and
less hasty. Still, it was nice he implied she might grow up to be a
leader. She
would
stay with this task. She
did
trust that Suleiman would outsmart the
wazir.

They entered the Palace of the Myrtles and
crossed the stone floor to stop at the fishpond. “I’ll start here
and work my way around the courtyard.” Ara said. “Where do you want
to look?”

“Maybe the Hall of the Boat, as it is
close.”

Ara nodded agreement.

The girls separated. Layla called out that
she found a symmetry, but a moment later she amended, “No, I was
mistaken. The pattern isn’t quite right. There’s a glide, but no
reflection. And it isn’t broken.”

Ara walked slowly around the courtyard pond,
still thinking about the lion’s counsel.
It wasn’t
that he said she shouldn’t be spontaneous, just that she should be
more careful. That didn’t seem so bad.
She saw a series of
tiles and grinned as she mentally followed the motion across the
row. Glide, reflect, glide, reflect—over and over.

Layla tugged on her sleeve. “Let’s go to the
tower and look for Suleiman. You mustn’t repair the broken
symmetry. Not until he is here and safe.”

Chapter 37

From the tower, the girls watched as an eagle
winged toward the palace, skimming through the newly-formed clouds.
Ara heard distant trumpets. She peered down the road and saw
men-at-arms riding fast. At the head, riding a big-boned chestnut
mare, was the wazir. His body twisted as he searched the skies.

Please let him not see
Suleiman
, Ara fervently prayed. Just then the eagle dipped
down through a cloud and a cry went up from one of the hunters, who
pointed upwards. The bowmen loosed three arrows in rapid
succession. The eagle soared above them, their barbs sailing
harmlessly below.

The wazir waved his arms, cursing his men. As
two archers raced on ahead, he yanked his reins back hard and flung
himself to the ground, pulling out an object from his saddlebags.
Light reflected off it, and Ara gasped in recognition. He raised
the mirror to the sky and began chanting.

“Layla, he’s doing black mathemagics! That’s
what he did before. He used a mirror just like he is now.

“Suleiman,” Ara shouted, thrusting herself
half out of the window, “look out!”

The eagle veered, and the magic whooshed by
in the form of a small black cloud. It hung there. Two songbirds
flew through it and disappeared. Dark shadows twisted inside the
cloud and feathers exploded into the air. The eagle’s eyes locked
onto the wazir, bent over his mirror below.

Layla and Ara gasped as Suleiman suddenly
pinned in his wings and hurtled down from the sky.

Too late, the wazir looked up and discovered
that he who had been the predator was now the prey. He shrieked and
flung his hands over his face.

Layla screamed.

Just before he crashed into the wazir,
Suleiman pulled out of his dive and, extending his talons, grabbed
the mirror. His talons raked the wazir’s hand. Blood spurted. Abd
al-Rahmid shrieked as claws ripped through his flesh. His
companions turned at the noise, dumbfounded.

Doubled over in pain, he shrieked at his men
to kill the eagle. One man hurried to his aid, while the other
notched his bow. Clutching the mirror, Suleiman flapped harder, his
strong wings pumping as he tried to distance himself from the
deadly arrows arching in his direction.