Later that evening, Layla and Ara joined Tahirah walking through the torch-lit halls. Their long shadows moved with them across the walls.
“We’re glad you are back,” Layla said, her face still a bit pale.
“Where were you?” Ara asked at the same time.
Tahirah reached out and took their hands. “It has been quite the experience for all of us.” She gave their hands a squeeze before releasing them. “I dreaded leaving you two, but I received an urgent message from an old friend, a woman from Lindejarras in the mountains. I left immediately, taking only my guards and two of my most trusted women.” Ara leaned forward. “When I arrived, she spoke of a plot to overthrow the Alhambra.”
Both girls gasped.
“My friend’s brother travels in a caravan across Andalusia. She told me that two months ago, three knights from Seville joined their caravan. Late that night, he heard them arguing. They were disagreeing about a Muslim wazir in the service of the Castilian king. This wazir was supposed to have magic, they said, that could strip the palace of its defenses so that the Alhambra would drop into their hands like a ripe fig.
“Two of these men didn’t trust the wazir or his magic, and wanted to take the matters into their own hands, but the other man persuaded them to let the ‘Moor undo the Alhambra magic,’ then kill him. My friend’s brother wanted to warn the sultan, but he was afraid.”
“Why would the wazir do this?” Layla asked.
“According to the knights, the wazir has been promised the Alhambra for his own if Granada falls to the Infidels.”
“I don’t understand, how could the Alhambra be made defenseless? We have guards and soldiers,” Ara persisted.
Tahirah reached out to stroke Ara’s hair. She spoke gently. “The Alhambra is protected by people, it is true, but you know that the secret of its strength is in the magic built into its walls by the original Moors and Saracens. They placed the magic in the artwork, the symmetry on the walls themselves, and that protects the palace from invaders. With the magic intact, these fortress walls cannot be breached, the gates are impenetrable, and the towers themselves will resonate like thunder. Lightning bolts would shoot any hostile army that dared to trespass.”
“That’s what Father was talking about,” Ara said, placing a hand on the walls as if she could hold it together by herself. “He said that the Alhambra protects its own.”
Tahirah looked solemn. “If all the symmetries broke, the magic would be undone, and the Alhambra would be like any other palace. No number of warriors and guards could defend it from superior forces.
“The symmetries hold, in spite of the fault line of evil spreading through the walls and weakening its magic. But if we are unsuccessful, the damage will continue and eventually the fortress will fall.”
“And the lions—what do they do?” Ara asked. “You said that they are magic.”
“The lions were set in place by three very powerful mathemagicians hundreds of years ago. Each lion was named for a quality that would protect the Alhambra. Their anger would be terrible and inescapable for any who endangers the Red Palace. Their continued silence concerns me, and I must assume the worst. The wazir has placed a spell on them. When you broke that first binding on Suleiman, some of the evil was dispelled, and perhaps some of the lions' strength has been restored as well.”
Ara’s eyes widened with urgency. “Tahirah, we saw a lion’s footprint on the ground this morning.”
“The wazir saw it too.” Layla interrupted, her words tumbling over one another in her hurry to get them out. “He was going to ask us about Suleiman, but he left in a rush when he saw the lion’s print.”
Tahirah weighed this information before speaking. “The wazir must be very frightened. His control of the lions has slipped, and his magic is unraveling.” She frowned and pressed her fingers to her mouth. “We must be cautious. He must not guess you two are responsible for his magic weakening.”
She resumed walking. “If we only had some written proof, we could go to your father. As it is, it would be my word against his, and this is a very serious accusation. Islamic law requires the voice of two women for every man.” Her voice cracked. “I would not accuse the wazir of treason with no more than hearsay.”
She remained quiet for some moments, then said, “As I watched the moon change each night, I thought of you two. This morning it was just past a quarter full. What have you accomplished while I was gone?”
The girls looked at each other, then at their hands. Ara whispered, “We have yet to find a broken horizontal symmetry, and we must by tomorrow.” She sent an anxious glance toward Layla.
Tahirah nodded and was silent. She closed her eyes and for a many breaths she seemed to be meditating.
Her eyes snapped open and she said, “Tomorrow is a busy day. You are translating for the visitors, are you not?”
Both girls nodded yes.
“Then I bid you goodnight. But remember, fear is not our friend, and we will not feed him. I shall spend this evening in solitude and prayer, but perhaps I can help before I go. As I entered the Alhambra tonight, I saw the wazir alone in a room off the Gilded Court. Did you check near there?”
“We’ll go now,” Ara said, pulling Layla along with her. “Quickly, before bedtime.”
“Good night, daughters of my heart,” Tahirah called after them, but only the walls heard her speak.
The girls ran through the palace, stopping only to nod politely to others of the harem as they passed. Guards stood at various corners, untouched by the apparent enthusiasms of the youngsters. Children had been running through the halls of the Alhambra long before these two were born.
As they were about to round the last corner, Ara pointed to a row of tiles surrounding the doorway. “I think...No, there’s a piece that changes the symmetry, an extra shape in the top half that is not in the bottom, not a symmetry, but not broken. Oh, bother,” she muttered under her breath, glancing around at other tiles. She had to find the symmetry. What would happen to her father and all her family and friends if she did not? The sound of strange male voices raised in anger came from around the corner. The girls looked at each other in surprise. Who could be in the Gilded Court this late at night?
“What do you mean the palace is healing itself?” a voice barked. “You told me it was all under control. Can’t do your simple math magics?” The speaker laughed at his own joke.
“Keep your voice down,” the wazir said. “Do you want everyone to hear? The sultan is already suspicious. He questions me closely about my relations with you of Castile.
“The symmetries are healing, and the lions are casting off the sleep spell I placed on them. Someone is working against me. That eunuch, Suleiman, I’m sure. Somehow, even in his reptilian form, he’s doing mathemagics.”
More laughter. “A lizard doing math,” the voice sneered. “What’s he doing, trigonometry?”
Ara could hear the intake of the wazir’s breath.
The man continued, seemingly unaware of the wazir’s anger. “What about that woman, the Sufi?”
The wazir laughed and whispered in his harsh voice, “A woman, an old woman. Sufis spend their lives thinking great thoughts. Tahirah’s weak. She wouldn’t even notice the changes, much less be able to fix them. It must be the eunuch. He was sniffing around my magic. I should have killed him.”
“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.