The Secret of Ka

  He grabbed my arm. "We're not sleeping tonight!"

  I shook free and shoved him in the chest. Hard. "Don't touch me!"

  I could not believe the trust we shared had collapsed so quickly. Yet I felt in no mood to repair it, not now. He was behaving like a madman.

  He seemed to realize that. He bowed his head, softened his voice.

  "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you like that."

  "Unlike you, I accept your apology."

  He nodded. "I accept yours, too."

  "Well, I'm no longer offering it. I had a right to talk to the carpet if I wanted to. I'm glad I was successful. And it's not my fault if it doesn't want to talk to you." I turned away. "Now I'm going to rest."

  He blocked my way. "Sara, please, you have to see my side. When I woke up and you were gone, I got really scared. We're on a strange island. I thought maybe someone had taken you away. I called out your name and you didn't answer. And then, when I saw you laughing with the carpet, talking to it, all my fear just turned to..." He didn't finish.

  "Rage," I said.

  "I got angry. I said I'm sorry."

  "You're only sorry because you want to fly into one of these temples and summon a djinn."

  What I said was true, but it was also odd. His whole attitude had changed since he had heard about the djinn. He was supposed to be the cautious one. He had not wanted to take the carpet across the sea. He had even been reluctant to enter the temples.

  This was an Amesh I didn't know.

  Even in the dark, I could sense his pride returning.

  "What's wrong with that?" he asked.

  "Amesh. The carpet said the djinn are dangerous."

  "You spoke to the carpet for a minute about them. And you're from America. How many Americans even know what a djinn is? But they're a part of my culture. And the one thing I know for certain is a djinn has to grant the wish of the person who frees it."

  "Earlier, you said your Papi said there were no flying carpets."

  "I never said that."

  "Yes, you did. You said—"

  "Who cares!" he interrupted, excited. "The djinn are something else! We have to try to summon one. Just one. So we can make one wish. There can't be any danger in that."

  He was being very persuasive, and I feared it was because I continued to feel guilty about having lied to him, never mind having shoved him. I had never struck a guy before.

  His outburst had not erased my feelings for him. I wanted to please him. And the carpet had said I had been brought to the island to contact the djinn. If we were very careful...

  I pointed to the temples. "We tried the doors. They're all locked."

  He pointed to the stiff tassels. "We didn't try going through the roof because we couldn't find a ley line. But you've found one."

  "It might not be safe, taking the carpet up as high as these roofs."

  "Less safe than flying across an ocean? I don't think so." He knelt beside the carpet. "Please, Sara?"

  I gave in. I could list all the reasons why, but one stood out in my mind. I realized how jealous I would be if the roles were reversed. If the carpet obeyed him and ignored me. I would have been crushed. To not do him a favor now—when he was begging for one—just seemed cruel.

  We decided to head for the triangular-shaped temple. It was nearest. The ley line felt powerful. We had barely sat on the carpet, and I had only touched the tassels, when we lifted off the ground. We rose faster than we had on the beach, and I discovered I could steer the carpet by using the side tassels. In seconds we were floating above the temple.

  The height made me dizzy, but at Amesh's prodding, I steered toward the three-sided chimney. I intended to land beside it, check it out from above first, but he saw no reason why we should stop on the roof. He wanted to fly directly into the temple.

  I could hear frustration in his voice as he told me where to go. He tried to hide it but failed. Again, he had tried the tassels but they hadn't responded to his touch. There was no hiding the truth—the carpet was in my control. He was just along for the ride.

  As we descended through the opening in the temple ceiling, an orange glow sprang to life beneath us and scared me half to death. Had we tripped a sensor by entering through the roof? As if by magic three tall white candles—located at the three corners of the temple—suddenly lit. It might have been the extreme darkness inside the temple but they appeared to shine with exceptional force.

  Beside the candles there was an altar in the center. It was also shaped like a triangle. We landed near it and quickly stood. It was made of gold and silver, although across its top was spread a red cloth that seemed to be made of silk. In a way it reminded me of the material of the carpet. It did not look old or dusty.

  Indeed, there was a feeling of timelessness inside the temple that was difficult to describe. The place was ancient; I had no doubt. And it was a place that was probably best left undisturbed.

  What looked like the handle of a sword rested in the center of the altar. Around its top curled a long green emerald fashioned in the shape of a serpent. Its mouth hung open at one side, its sharp teeth waiting for God only knew what.

  I wanted nothing to do with it.

  Amesh studied it without touching it. He asked an odd question.

  "Do you have your BlackBerry with you?"

  "I have it in my day pack," I said.

  "Open it, turn it on. Search for djinn artifacts."

  "It's not working."

  "Why not?"

  "Beats me." I pointed at the serpent. "This isn't a lamp—that's plain enough."

  "You don't know everything about our culture. Djinn don't have to be imprisoned inside lamps. They can be bound to all kinds of objects."

  "Really? Then why did you want me to look it up?" I asked.

  "I was curious if there might be a reference to this object."

  He was still wary of it. Good; I wanted him to be afraid. The last thing we needed was to unleash a djinn into our dimension. Let them remain invisible and hidden—in a realm where they could do us no harm.

  While Amesh studied the green serpent from every angle, I took the opportunity to check out the stained glass windows. There seemed to be numerous battle scenes. They reminded me of the story that was laid out on the carpet, except these were much more detailed and far more bloody. But I still couldn't see much of them in the dim light. I would have to look again during the daytime.

  While prowling the temple, I discovered I could push the door open from the inside. I propped it slightly open with some nearby rocks.

  I wondered if Amesh had heard the first two laws of the djinn. Had I really repeated everything aloud? What if he didn't know the exact danger?

  I might have told him about them right then but he appeared to tire of the sword hilt—although he had yet to touch it—and told me to take him to another temple. I wanted to argue, but we were still in our first "make-up phase." I did as he asked.

  The carpet lifted off effortlessly and floated out the opening in the ceiling. We flew over the length of the pond in the direction of the square temple. I suspected if we stayed above the icy water and headed toward a specific temple, the carpet would stay afloat. It did.

  We entered the square-shaped temple through the roof. Once more, a candle in each corner sprang to life and we had enough light to park beside an altar that bore an uncanny resemblance to the first. Except this one was square, and a black box rested on top.

  "Don't open that!" I blurted out even before we had stood from the carpet. Amesh jumped up and laughed at me.

  "Why not?" he asked.

  I stood. "It looks like Pandora's Box."

  As if daring me to stop him, he reached over and poked it.

  "It's not very heavy," he said as it slid a few inches over the altar. The box was a foot on all sides, and yet it had a distinct impression in one side—an inch shy of the top. It looked like a lid.

  "Amesh," I said. "I'm not sure what you heard the carpet
tell me. But there's one thing it made clear—after you make two wishes you owe the djinn. We shouldn't mess with their ... stuff."

  "That's dumb. It goes against all my people's stories about the djinn. Our tales are clear—the person who frees a djinn has total control over it."

  "Has it occurred to you that your stories might have gotten distorted over time?"

  He stopped and stared at me. "It bothers you, doesn't it?"

  "What?"

  "That I have the courage to free one."

  "It doesn't bother me; it scares me."

  Amesh made a dismissive gesture, and as he'd done in the other temple, he began to study the box from every angle. This time I kept my eyes on him, which might have been a mistake. He clearly wanted to show me that he wasn't afraid. He finally picked up the black box.

  "Amesh!" I cried.

  "Don't be such a coward." He slipped his nails in the indentation. He was about to pull off the lid.

  "Stop!" I cried.

  "Would you please shut up for a minute!" he said. The lid was frozen in place. He could not get it off, not with one hand. Relief washed through me. There would be no djinn knocking on our door tonight. But he didn't give up. He tugged at it until he was blue in the face. The poor guy tried gripping it with his thighs, with miserable results.

  Yet he did not ask for my help. He was too proud.

  "I can help you," I said. He didn't respond, so I added, "But if I do, then the djinn will probably end up obeying me."

  It was just a joke. I was teasing him, trying to lighten the mood. It did not work. His jealousy remained. Just his luck, he had to find a magic carpet that liked girls instead of boys. Plus he was stranded on an island swarming with invisible djinn, and he couldn't find one to grant him a single wish.

  Too late I realized that he might have misunderstood my last remark and felt I was making fun of his handicap. He threw the black box down on the altar.

  "Take me to another temple!" he growled.

  "Amesh," I said gently, putting a hand on his good arm. "Let's call it a night. We hiked, like, twenty miles today. We just had our first fight, and it was stupid, like all fights, but it happened because we're both exhausted. We need to sleep. Really, I don't know if I can fly the carpet any farther."

  He stepped away and sat on the carpet. "I just need to make one wish," he said sadly. I sat beside him.

  "Is that true? Do you promise only to ask for one wish?"

  He gave me a puzzled look. "What does it matter to you?"

  "I tried to tell you. It's because of the Laws of the Djinn the carpet told me about. One wish isn't dangerous. But after that you owe them something."

  For the first time since he had caught me talking to the carpet, he appeared to listen. His dark face looked beautiful in the candlelight. Had I been more experienced, I believe I would have leaned over and kissed him. I felt a wave of love for him wash over me. Who cared if he wasn't royalty? He was special to me.

  "I'll just make one," he promised.

  I did not ask him what his wish would be. I knew he was desperate to get his hand back. How could I deny him that? After all he had suffered?

  I smiled wearily. "Let's try one more temple."

  Again, I propped open the temple door before we left. I hoped to study the interior of all of them at some point.

  It was ironic that as we flew into the circular temple we saw a bottle that closely resembled a genie's lamp—at least the way lamps were portrayed in cartoons. We landed and walked toward it. The lamp was polished ebony, smooth and shiny, a wide bulb on the bottom that tapered into a narrow stalk at the top. Of all the artifacts we had seen, it looked the most harmless. Yet as Amesh tried to lift it, he staggered on his feet.

  "It weighs a hundred kilos!" he exclaimed.

  "Put it down!" I said.

  My order was unnecessary. He dropped it on the altar.

  The round temple was better lit than the others. There were more candles against the walls. They were red candles. For some reason, these candles did not burn with orange flames. The wicks shone with red fire; they filled the temple with a deathly shimmer. The color made me uneasy. Their fire was powerful enough to give me a glimpse of the images in the stained glass windows.

  What I saw did nothing to soothe my nerves. The images were even worse than in the first temple. The scenes depicted one battle after another. There were soldiers in armor. Steel swords held high and corpses lying low. Blood everywhere.

  I suddenly felt it was a mistake to be in the temple. Everything we were doing suddenly felt wrong. The carpet had said the djinn were dangerous. Why wasn't I listening?

  It was because I had lied to Amesh, and now I was trying to make it up to him. It was a foolish reason. The lamp might have been difficult to lift, but all it had on top was a simple wooden cork. It would be easy to open. Amesh said as much. Still, he made no move to open it.

  "What are you waiting for?" I asked.

  "I keep expecting you to stop me."

  "I wish you would stop. Do you really want to confront a djinn?"

  "Do you really think one is going to pop out?"

  I shook my head. "I don't know."

  "But if one does appear, you said it was safe to make a wish."

  "One wish. If you make two wishes, you owe it."

  "I know, I know. What if you make three wishes?"

  "I think something bad happens."

  "What?"

  "I'm not sure," I said miserably.

  My uncertainty seemed to give him confidence. He circled the lamp. "If a djinn does come, I'll talk to it. You keep quiet. Okay?"

  "Okay."

  "You understand why?"

  "Because I'm a girl and you're a boy."

  "I don't want there to be any confusion about who freed it from its prison." In other words, he wanted it to obey only him.

  "I'll keep my mouth shut," I said.

  "Good." He reached for the lamp, then paused. "I might need help."

  That was the last thing I wanted to do. The thought of touching it made me feel ill. Yet that desperate note had returned to his voice. How could I say no? Still, my legs felt heavy as I moved to the altar.

  "You want me to hold it down?" I asked.

  "Yeah."

  "It's so heavy, it shouldn't move."

  "The cork might be in tight. Can you just hold on to it?"

  "Okay," I said.

  I clasped the neck of the lamp. The black bottle was hot, while the room was cold. It made no sense, unless there was something inside that burned to be set free. I tried to stay calm.

  "Amesh," I whispered. He was only four feet away, on the other side of the altar, his left arm already outstretched.

  "What?" he said.

  "Let's not do this. Not now, not tonight. Please?"

  "Why not?"

  "Because I'm afraid."

  He gave me a sympathetic look then, and I was sure he was going to listen and stop this madness. Then his hand brushed the cork and his face suddenly hardened. He sucked in a sharp breath and his fingers closed around the cork.

  "I have no fear," he whispered as he yanked on the cork. I expected a popping sound, but instead I heard a scratching noise, like nails being raked across metal. The noise grated my nerves and I let go of the lamp without thinking.

  It didn't matter. It was done.

  The djinn did not appear to me; it was visible only to Amesh. That was my first surprise. Yet I was instantly aware of its presence. As Amesh turned to the left to stare at it, I sensed an invisible shape swelling before him. Somehow I was aware of its weight. It was more than a ton, and I suspected it could crush us if we lost control of it. No, I corrected myself. If Amesh lost control. He had set it free. He was the only one who could master it now.

  "It's magnificent," Amesh whispered.

  He was talking to me; I assumed he wanted me to respond. Yet I had promised to remain silent. Best to be safe, I thought. Keep quiet; don't draw its attention. Let Ames
h get his hand, and then hopefully the djinn would return to its bottle and leave us alone.

  A voice spoke. The words did not emanate from the direction of the invisible mass alone. They came out of the walls. They were inside my head, too, an echo of a sound so old it could have existed before the earth. Words both soft and oppressive, definitely sly. It was clever; its life had been long. It would be difficult to fool.

  "What is your name?" it asked.

  Amesh opened his mouth to speak. I abandoned my vow of silence.

  "No!" I shouted. "Demand to know its name."

  Amesh tried to look at me, but the thing had him hypnotized.

  "Why?" he mumbled.

  "Your name will give it power over you. Tell it to reveal its name."

  Amesh swallowed, struggling. "Who are you?" he asked.

  Now I felt the djinn stare at me. It did not want to give out its name. Plus, it was angry that I had helped Amesh. I sensed it saw me as an enemy.

  Yet a part of me felt that was not necessarily bad. The djinn were not there to make friends. They were forces of nature. They possessed power, and apparently they craved power. Amesh could use it as an ally to get what he wanted. But then he had to break the bond.

  I felt as if the carpet were still talking to me, telling me these truths. But I wondered if it was not something else. The carpet had spoken about my intuition. But I felt as if talking to it had been the real jolt that had awakened a hidden part of my mind.

  "Don't just ask. Order it to reveal its name," I told Amesh.

  He coughed weakly. "Tell me your name," he muttered.

  His voice lacked authority; another mistake, I knew. The djinn's gaze swung between us. Amesh had set it free. However—and it was as if I could read a piece of the djinn's mind!—it was suddenly curious about me.

  The djinn wanted to know my name!

  Even more than Amesh's. It wanted his name so it could get mine. It was fortunate I was in the temple to guide Amesh. At the same time, it was a pity I had not had a chance to learn more from the carpet before I had to face a djinn. I was not sure why it was interested in me.

  "Be forceful," I urged Amesh.

  "I demand that you tell me your name!" he said, finally showing some strength. The attention of the djinn swung back to Amesh.