Ara carefully evaluated her work. The creature dressed in a hijab stared back at her. One hoof, hidden in the folds of material, lightly rested on Layla’s shoulder. “Walk forward again and, this time, keep your tail tucked under. It looks peculiar when it sticks out.”
Two eyes glared daggers at her. Layla started forward with Suleiman clomping after. Ara sighed. “Can’t you be more graceful? Don’t hunch over so much. You don’t walk much like a girl.”
Layla muttered softly, “He doesn’t move like anything human.”
Suleiman tucked his tail and tried to stand upright. He snarled under his breath, and took two slow, tottering steps. “This isn’t going to work. The guards will see right through this.”
Ara grimaced. “It will have to do. At least it’s near dark. Let’s go. Keep your head down. No one would believe those eyes are human.”
They rounded the corner. A guard coming from the other direction cried, “Halt, Sultan’s child. The wazir wishes you brought to him.”
Ara gulped and forgot to breathe, her wits too frightened to work. Just as she opened her mouth, hoping some useful words would spill out, a small, shrouded figure prodded the guards back with her cane.
“Since when do you take orders from Abd al-Rahmid? And since when are women’s affairs any of his never-mind?” Rabab, enshrouded in her dark brown hijab, stood her ground while the three cohorts continued their unsteady progress across the walk. Zoriah stood behind, her face hidden but her eyes unwavering. Secure in her rights, her posture defied the guard to harm the old woman.
“I…I…Sitti, I must,” the guard stammered, shifting from foot to foot.
“You must!” Rabab said shaking a finger under his nose. “You must mind your own business and stay out of the harem’s affairs. Have you added bullying girls to your work?”
The guard flinched before the hunched old woman. “But, the wazir ordered me to bring—”
“And, in the sultan’s absence, I am ordering you to go about your business,” Rabab retorted as the trio hurried through the doorway. “No one who isn’t of the harem is to enter,” she pointed out, “and no man has the right to meddle in our affairs.” She placed herself in the doorway, blocking his view after Ara, Layla and Suleiman entered. “Now, leave us in peace.” Turning her back on him, she walked away. Zoriah firmly closed the door on the gawking guard.
From the doorway, Ara saw a cluster of children inspecting Suleiman. Hasan looked quizzically at the robed goat, tilting his head to one side. Jada’s eyes dropped down to Suleiman’s feet. Ara backed across the room and whispered to Layla to disappear and meet her later. Too much attention was being given to Suleiman, and Zoriah was sure to ask pointed questions.
Bam! bam! The great door shook. Zoriah called the eunuch harem guards and directed them to the door.
As soon as they were in place, she crossed the cool stone floor to stand before Ara. “What is going on?” Her eyebrows formed a frowning V. “Where did Layla and the woman go? Who is she?”
Still fuming, Rabab removed her hijab. Her white hair was plaited tightly against her head, her mouth set in a fierce line. “This is our place. Who does that guard think he is, anyway?”
Zoriah was not to be distracted. “Ara, what is going on here? Why does the wazir seek you?”
Ara silently prayed to Allah, the merciful. “Please, Zoriah, you must help. This is no game. The wazir has set Father up for an ambush. Even now, Tahirah is riding off to prevent his capture. The Castilians are waiting in the mountains to attack. You must alert the guards. Please, what I say is true,” Ara’s voice choked, desperate to make Zoriah understand.
She turned white but her unblinking eyes bored into Ara. “My husband rode south. Is it truly a trap?” She gave Ara a doubtful look. “How would you know?”
Ara willed her to believe. “We heard the Castilian soldiers speaking when we were hidden. Tahirah has the written proof of the ambush plot.”
Zoriah nodded, no longer skeptical, and moments later she and Rabab were organizing the women and eunuch guards of the harem. Hasan was hurried off to roust the rest of the harem.
Rabab turned to fuss over the exhausted girl. “Where is Layla and…?” Her head tilted as if she were trying to place the new woman.
“We’ve been hiding. They went to get food and rest.”
Rabab gently held her for a moment. “This is too great a burden for you. You too must get some rest. My dear, you’re just a girl.” She looked at her with deep concern. “And one nigh on to collapse. I know you’re worried for your father. Believe me, all will be well. Your father is no one’s fool.”
She patted Ara’s cheek. “Now go. We have everything under control. You have done your part. Tomorrow will see no Castilians in the Alhambra.”
Ara breathed a sigh. Inshallah, her father would survive this night, and the wazir’s treacheries would be exposed. Now she needed to find the final symmetry. And hope that Suleiman would change back to himself.
She raced through the harem, looking for Layla. Time was flashing past. Rounding the corner at full tilt, she careened over Suleiman and landed head first on the floor.
Suleiman, all angles, sat hunched against the wall, well wrapped in the now foul-smelling and sweaty hijab.
“We found a glide with a vertical mirror,” Layla said, pointing to a pattern low on the ground. “But it is complete.”
Suleiman looked up, despair showing deep within his triangular eyes. “The evening is upon us, little time is left. We may need to face that this last task cannot be done.”
“We can’t fail now. The Alhambra mustn’t fall.” Ara scanned the tiled ceiling that arched above her and whispered, “And you must be returned to your original body.”
Both her friends seemed to gain hope from her words. Layla pushed away from the wall. “Let’s start again.”
Ara nodded. “Where have you searched so far?”
“Suleiman and I have been dodging guards and women. This is all we’ve found.”
The trio thoroughly searched the room. Example upon example of symmetries pranced across the walls, even another glide rotation, but nowhere did they see a broken one. They scurried from room to room, checking for people before they entered. Ara was sure with each new room that the spell would be broken. And in each room she noticed more and more tiny cracks in the walls.
Time edged on. Bedtime had come and gone. The girls, exhausted before, were now dragging.
They stopped to rest for what seemed only a few quick breaths. “What if,” Layla said, “there is no broken glide rotation in the harem?”
Ara slumped to the floor “No, it must be here! At least one. We’re so close. That can’t be. It just can’t.”
She forced herself to go to the kitchen and grab some food. As she ran back to her friends, a guard standing against the wall snapped to attention.
“Sultan’s child, a message came for you.”
Ara blinked hopefully. “A message? From my father?”
“No, from the Sufi mathemagician. A messenger handed this to the guard at the door. I have been looking for you for some time.”
He handed her a small piece of parchment sealed with wax. She ripped it open. The hastily scrawled message almost shouted: “Meet me in the Court of the Lions by midnight, before Isha’s prayer.
She looked up, confused. “Tahirah was here? Did you see her?”
“No, child of the Alhambra. Her messenger came and said it was important.” He coughed uneasily. “The slave, Su’ah, did not know where you were. She is worried and scolding. You should go there now.”
Ara looked again at the message, breathing a sigh of relief. Tahirah was back. Or was she? Why would she not come directly to them?
Could this be a trick, or was this the solution?
Soon it would be midnight and their time would be up. Would it be worth the danger to try? The Court of the Lions was outside the doors of the Palace of the Myrtles. How were they to get there without getting caught? All the guards were alert. She frowned. When had Tahirah sent this message? And where was she now?
“Please tell Su’ah that Layla and I are fine and not to be angry with me. We will be in bed before she knows it.”
After thanking the guard again, she returned to Layla and Suleiman and made a decision. “We’re going to leave the harem.”