He thought my name was Amaren . I tried to point to myself again, to correct the misunderstanding, when a second person appeared . S he looked nothin g like the man. Her hair wa s long and curly; a delightful cross between blond and white . T h e white was not from age, I realized . I t was her natural hair color . S he was at most thirty-five . S he wore a beautiful maroon robe made of sheep's wool .

Like the man, her eyes were blue, but darker, her gaze more intense . I t was as if when she looked at me, she saw nothing else . I felt out of place in my blue jeans and t-shirt . I pointed to myself. " Sara. M y name is Sara ." t he man gestured to the woman. "Aleena," he said. He ra n a finger across his lips and then pressed his palms over his ears .

I took a moment to understand. He was saying that she coul d not speak or hear . I nodded to her. "Aleena." s he nodded back, probably reading my lips . S he smiled . T he man patted his hard chest. "Hara," he said . I offered my hand in greeting. "Hara."

We shook, my fingers vanishing in his ma.s.sive palm . T heir language was a mystery, but to my surprise, it didn' t matter, at least not that first night. Aleena and Hara were bot h warm and kind, and so comfortable to be around that talkin g was unnecessary. Only later did this strike me as odd . I suppose it helped that they fed me dinner .

We ate as a family, and although the food was simple, i t was like being treated to a feast . T here was lamb, naturally, m arinated in a spicy sauce that had me drinking gla.s.ses o f juice. What was this secret beverage? it tasted like wine, apple cider, the berries I had discovered on the trail-a deliciou s combination . T here was also goat's milk and cheese, and a type of brea d that reminded me of indian naan . I wondered if they grew thei r grains or plucked them wild . T he parts of the island Ames h and I had explored had been barren, which in a way didn' t make much sense. But the more I ate, the less I cared where th e food had come from . I just felt happy to be welcomed int o their home .

I felt at home with strangers who did not speak my language. With a woman who could not speak at all. Again, I di d not puzzle too deeply over my reaction; I merely let myself enjoy it after the strain of the previous two days . N ot for an instant did I sense any danger .

Hara ate plates of food; he urged me to eat more. Aleen a nibbled . I noticed that beneath her robe she was extremely thin, y et there was nothing frail about her movements . S he was not a vegetarian-she ate the lamb-yet it was clear she preferred th e bread and cheese . S he was adept at hiding how little she ate . S h e spent most of her time serving me .

Guilt gnawed at my stuffed belly. Had I eaten food tha t had been meant to last them through hard times? With a serie s of clumsy gestures I tried to ask, and was relieved when the y smiled . T hey might have been putting on a show for my benefit, b ut they acted like this was a normal meal . E specially Hara. With a twinkle in his eye, he patted hi s big belly and pointed to my small one . T hey did every thing the y could to put me at ease .

But they did not take me on a tour of the house . I nstead I was led to a room not far from the kitchen, where they indicate d I would spend the night . T hey lacked indoor plumbing bu t Aleena brought jugs of heated water, and I was able to take a bath in a large metal tub she rolled into my room . T he toilet was outside . I t was not as comfortable as th e o ne at my five-star hotel, but it was sufficient . I t reminded m e of the outhouses at my father's job site, except it was made o f wood instead of plastic . I worried about what my father was going through righ t now. unless Amesh had contacted him to say I was okay- " Sara 's fine, mr. Wilc.o.x, just hanging out on an island that's no t on any map"-he would be frantic. What could I do? m y bed was firm, narrower than I was used to . I was give n a small pillow for my head . I t didn't matter . I was totally exhausted . I suspected I would sleep deeply .

Yet as I began to drift off my thoughts turned towar d Amesh and the djinn and I could no longer relax . M y frien d had left the island after making two wishes. He had departe d with two hands. He had left after promising to return, but h e had also left after swearing vengeance upon those who ha d wronged him . I t was the last statement that troubled me th e most. Because it meant my guess had been right, and someon e had had cut off his hand. With Darbar whispering in his head, how l ong would it take before Amesh made a third wish to destro y that someone? I sensed the third wish would be the most dangerous . cut off his hand. With Darbar whispering in his head, how l ong would it take before Amesh made a third wish to destro y that someone? I sensed the third wish would be the most dangerous .

His djinn knew it was . I t was why the creature had volunteered to take up the carpet and fly Amesh back to istanbul- f ree of charge, so to speak . T he djinn was sly . I t knew it had bu t to bide its time . I t didn't matter how much I had told Ames h a bout the danger. His hatred for those who had hurt him wa s too powerful .

Hot tears rolled over my cheeks and stained my pillow .

Yet I refused to accept that Amesh was lost . I had spent hal f the day cursing him, but I swore I would not rest until I ha d saved him . I fell into a restless slumber .

Chapter Ten.

The next mo rnin g I awoke to pure silence . I t was remarkable how still the house felt, inside and out . I could have been all alone, the only one on the island. For a lon g time I lay there thinking about how much my life had resemble d a dream since I had found the carpet .

But I had to get up; I had to pee . I ran into Aleena on m y way to the outhouse . S he had on a plain blue dress that reache d almost to her ankles . S he gestured to her mouth, and for me t o follow when I was done with my business . I a.s.sumed I was goin g to get breakfast .

After last night's big feast, the meal was light: yogurt fla v ored with the island's berries, thick brown bread and b.u.t.ter, a nd pears . I t was odd but the water struck me the most. Ordinarily I would have said water had no flavor, but this liqui d tasted like the water that flowed around the temples . I t was col d and yet it had power . I was not particularly thirsty but I dran k two gla.s.ses and felt more alert afterward .

Hara appeared in blue pants and a short-sleeve shirt an d had breakfast with us. Aleena had yogurt and nothing else .

Ch.o.r.e time . T hey did not ask for help; it was a.s.sumed I would give it. Hara hiked away from the house-west, a direction I had yet to explore-while Aleena led me to the barn animals . T he female goats neede d to be milked. Aleena pulled u p two stools, placed them behind a goat with an udder as large a s a five gallon bottle, and gestured for me to sit . S haking my head, I pointed to a broom and dustpan . I pointed to a broom and dustpan .

"Goats aren't really my thing," I said. "Can't I clean up?"

Aleena shook her head, pointed to the stool. Her politeness remained but there was a firmness to her bearing. As if sh e was saying, sit girl . I sat . M y first milking . I would love to say it was messy at first, b ut I soon found my rhythm and enjoyed myself . N ot!

Aleena demonstrated . I was supposed to close off the tea t from the udder, then squeeze the teat starting at the top an d move the squeezing motion downward, pushing the milk out . I t looked simple when she did it. A nice warm spray of milk flew i nto her bucket. But when I did it, I pinched too hard. Before I could even get to squeezing its teat, the goat growled and kicke d my shin .

"Ouch!" I cried while Aleena laughed silently. A kick fro m an annoyed goat might sound like a minor problem . I t is not; m y leg hurt . I moved my stool back to leave, but Aleena woul d have none of that . S he pulled it forward and demonstrated again . S lide hand over nipple, move up to swollen breast, squeeze, the n yank down firmly and quickly .

"Okay, I'll do it," I said. A minute later, my other shin wa s sporting a bruise, and I made a vow not to touch that particula r goat again, except maybe to eat it . I gnoring Aleena's protests, I moved my stool behind a smaller goat and tried a third time .

You know what they say about the third time being the charm? I did not get a thick stream of milk, but I got something, an d the goat didn't kick me, which was all I really cared about . I ended up milking three goats-Aleena did twenty in th e same amount of time. When we were done, my back ached fro m bending over . I t was then Aleena handed me the broom an d dustpan . S he chased the animals out and gestured for me t o sweep up. Yes ma'am . N ow I understood why they had been s o happy to see me the night before . I was their new slave .

Before we ate lunch, Aleena led me to a stream not far fro m the house, where I was able to wash and cool off . T he sun wa s straight overhead and the temperature was warm. Aleena wa s tactful and left me alone, and I stripped off my clothes an d w ashed them as well. Leaving them to dry on some rocks, I floated on my back in the stream and stared up at the sky . I t looked a much deeper blue than I remembered .

Lunch was more interesting than breakfast . I was starvin g from all the hard labor, and Hara had returned with several rabbits, which he appeared to have caught in traps . I helped Aleen a peel potatoes, so I wouldn't have to watch Hara skin the animals .

But once they were roasting outside over the fire-the smell mad e my mouth water-i forgot all about where they had come from . I was pleased to find they tasted almost identical to chicken .

During the day, for a time, i'd forget about Amesh and th e carpet and the djinn . T hen the feeling of being stranded woul d return, and the danger of my predicament would crash down o n me. How was I to escape this island?

Aleena wanted me to take a nap after eating . I said I wa s not sleepy, and tried exploring the remainder of the house . T ha t was the first time I saw her face darken . S he showed me thre e closed doors that led to the rest of the house, and indicated tha t I was not to pa.s.s through them .

"Why not?" I asked .

Aleena shook her head. For a moment I swore she wa s reading my lips. But she did not speak en glish. Or did she?

Hara did not .

"A re you keeping other kids hostage in there?" I asked .

Aleena frowned and shook her head . S o she did understand me!

"is that where you keep their skeletons?" I asked . I was just joking, but Aleena threw up her hands and le d me outside .

Why would one know english and the other not?

Beside the barn, on the opposite side of the house, the y had a garage of sorts . N ot for cars or bikes-or even horses, w hich would have been nice-but for tools where Hara di d carpentry work and Aleena molded clay and painted .

Aleena took her hobbies seriously . S he had several potter y wheels that she drove with her feet, and a kiln where she fire d her pots to make them hard as rock . S he showed me her work, a nd I was dazzled . N ot just because of her great skill, but because her style reminded me of the art on the carpet . S ame colo r scheme, same lines, identical creatures and people . I t was like one had inspired the other .

Was it possible the carpet had led me to her?

Aleena wanted to teach me how to make a pot . T he tas k was infinitely more appealing than milking a goat . I watche d attentively as she lifted a lump of clay onto the wheel and sprinkled it with water, then ma.s.saged it into a circular ma.s.s . S he di d this before she moved the wheel even an inch . I was stunned to see how much water the clay absorbed, a nd gestured for her to pour the water on it and get it over with . S he shook her head . T hat wouldn't work . I did not really appreciate that fact until she kicked the wheel into motion and I saw what she could do with the clay .

t he power came from twin pedals, one on either sid e of the wheel . T hey duplicated the motion of riding a bicycle. But there was a major difference . T hese pedals were dow n low . S he had to lean forward to stay above the clay while sh e worked it . T hen the magic began, right before my eyes . S he dug he r right hand into the center and the clay spread out. Just as quick, h er left hand stopped it from spreading, and she pushed upwar d until a bulge grew in the center . I t took Aleena three minutes t o create a pot .

Yet she wanted more from her design. Whether it was because she wished to teach me or because she needed a tall container for the kitchen, sh e continued to add pieces of damp cla y until the pot grew into a tall vase . S he coaxed the bulge highe r and higher . S oon it floated near the top . I was amazed . I tried to tell her . S he smiled and pointed to the wheel beside her . T o the clay .

Pull up a chair, girl, and get to work, she was saying . I dove in, and I was a disaster. A small pot seemed a wis e way to start, but Aleena insisted I use a fair amount of clay . N o t as much as she was using, but nearly five pounds' worth . N aturally, I rushed the preliminary steps . I was anxious to get th e wheel spinning, and because I didn't take time to moisten th e clay-to let the material absorb the water at its own pace-i t refused to respond to my touch .

Actually, it responded too much. Once I had it spinning, I had only to place a finger on it and it would a.s.sume on e grotesque shape after another. Yet Aleena was happy with m y progress . S he did not like the way I milked goats, but seeme d confident that I could make pots . S o went my first full day with Aleena, and my third day o n the island. After we washed up and had dinner, I prepared fo r bed but found I couldn't sleep. Without my BlackBerry, withou t even a book to read, I found it hard to relax . I never went to be d without reading something . I t was late-i was sure Hara and Aleena were asleep- w hen I heard a knock on my bedroom window. At first I a.s.sumed it was the wind pushing a branch against the gla.s.s. Bu t the knock returned, more insistent, and I finally lit a candle an d stepped to the window .

"h.e.l.lo?" I said . T here was another b.u.mp. Yes, I thought, a b.u.mp, not a knock . I t b.u.mped twice more while I stood there with my hear t pounding in my chest. After all I had been through, I was ter rifie d to pull away the curtain . T here was something about a mysteriou s noise late at night that rattled the deepest part of my brain . I gathered my courage and pulled aside the curtain, bu t couldn't see outside. Finally-what could I do?-i opened th e window. What was outside did not wait to be invited inside . I t almost gave me a heart attack at first, but then I squealed wit h plea sure .

i t was the Carpet of Ka . I t flew inside and landed on my bed and lay there like i t was resting after a long flight . S miling, I knelt beside it an d studied the stars in the center field . T hey were still bright, stil l moving, and I thought, even though we were not outside, th e carpet might still answer my questions . T he night stars were, a fter all, shining through the open window .

"Hi," I said . T he stars moved quickly. "Hi," it replied .

"Did you take Amesh and his djinn to istanbul? "

"T hey were taken there. "

" Why did it take you so long to return? "

"T he carpet returned quickly." m y questions were off . I was forgetting what it had tol d me the other night . I was not actually speaking to the carpet, bu t to someone else .

"Was the carpet detained in istanbul?" I asked .

"N o. "

"T hen why didn't it fly right back? "

"T ime is not a constant. "

" What does that mean? "

" You will see. "

"I s Amesh all right? "

" He is in grave danger. "

" Has he made another wish yet? "

" He will."

"Can you tell me what happens when a mortal makes thre e wishes to the same djinn? "

"S eek, and you will find the answer. "

"B ut you were about to tell me that first night we spoke. "

"I was about to tell you that I could not tell you. "

"I t doesn't matter . I know if he makes another wish, he' s screwed." t he carpet did not respond . N ot even one comforting word .

"Why did you obey his djinn and fly them to istanbul?" I asked .

"I obey no djinn." I kept forgetting how to phrase the questions .

"How was the djinn able to fly the carpet to istanbul? "

" Djinn know how to fly carpets. "

"B ut that night, I begged the carpet not to leave. "

"T he djinn's will was more powerful. "

"I thought you said I was a Kala. "

"I said no such thing. "

" You said I was descended from a royal line. "

"T hat does not make you a Kala . T hat t.i.tle must b e earned. "

" Can you take me back to istanbul? "

" Yes. "

" Can you take me now?"

"Yes. "

" Great! should I go tell Aleena and Hara I'm leaving? "

"N o. "

" Why not? "

" Why do you want to leave? "

"T o stop Amesh from making any more wishes. "

" Can you stop him? Can you stop his djinn?" t he two questions, put together, seemed to ask many questions at once .

"A re you saying I lack the power to save Amesh? "

" Yes. "

"A re you saying if I stay here I can gain the power t o save him? "

" What is the best way to remove a thorn?" I was familiar with the old adage. "With another thorn. "

"T hen you know what you must do. "

"N o. Wait . I don't know." i t did not respond. Of course, I had not asked a question, s o it was not required to respond. But I knew what it was tryin g to tell me; I just didn't want to face the truth .

"T o save Amesh from his djinn, do I need to invoke m y own djinn? "

"A djinn of greater power. "

"B ut you keep saying how dangerous they are . I saw how d angerous they are!"

"T hey are dangerous in the wrong hands. "