"N othing," I muttered .

" Sara ? "

" What can I say? it's a complete mystery . T hat we're nowhere near solving. "

"T hat's a big help," he said sarcastically .

"When you don't know, it's better to admit yo u don't know."

We had reached an impa.s.se. We fell into a tense silence .

But at last I knew why he was so scared. He was a lot more superst.i.tious than he wanted to admit .

"What time does your father get back?" he finally asked .

"Late. You don't have to worry about him." I notice d Amesh eyeing the menu on the table that stood beside the mai n balcony, where I usually had breakfast with my father. "Hungry?" I asked .

"N o. "

" Get off it, you told me you missed lunch. You must b e starved. Let's order room ser vice."

He hesitated . "R oom ser vice?" i t was nice, finally, to talk about something I was an expert on .

"T hat's where they bring the food to your room. Here, I can order for you." I picked up the menu and room phone .

"What would you like? "

" What do they have?"

"Pretty much anything you can imagine. Do you like lamb?

Chicken? steak? turkey? Fish?"

He licked his lips . "I s the steak expensive? "

"A mesh, it's all free! Or at least, Becktar's paying fo r it. Don't worry about the cost. How do you like your stea k cooked? "

"T hey cook it special ways? "

" You can have it any way you want. "

" How do you usually get it? "

" Well done; I don't like it b.l.o.o.d.y. And I love a baked potato with it. "

"T hat sounds good. But . . . would you eat some of i t with me?" I reached for the phone. "We'll split it. How abou t dessert? "

"T hey'll bring all that to one room? "

" You'll be amazed," I said .

Besides the steak and potato, I ordered french fries an d chocolate cake and cheesecake, plus ice cream: vanilla, strawberry, and coffee. While waiting for the food to arrive, I convinced Amesh that a showe r wasn't going to kill him . I t was cut e how careful he was to lock the bathroom door before turnin g on the water . T he truth was that I wanted some time alone . I had a brand new PDA-a BlackBerry-my mother had bought fo r my birthday . I had gotten so used to texting friends and lookin g s tuff up on the internet, I kept it with me 24/7 . I t was a bit o f an addiction . M y fingers danced over the tiny keyboard . I n minutes I scanned a half dozen sites on magic carpets . I clicked on a few a nd was amazed to find the historical exis tence of magic carpet s was treated as a genuine possibility by real scholars-men an d women with PhD PhD after their names, not just new Age freaks . after their names, not just new Age freaks .

Certain doc.u.ments described how the carpets seemed t o appear and disappear over vast intervals of time . I t was as if th e knowledge of how they were made was found and then somehow lost . S ome records were egyp tian-these were written o n papyrus-over five thousand years old . M any were half that age; t hey dealt with the period of King sol o mon. He was a centra l figure when it came to magic carpets. He was supposed to hav e had dozens under his command, plus a team of alchemists wh o knew the secrets of how to build them .

On another site, I read a doc.u.ment that dealt with the Library of Alexandria . I t stated-the image was almost comical- t hat the library had been so big, the stacks of books so high, i t was normal for patrons to use magic carpets to browse. An d I thought the internet had spoiled me! What a way to d o research!

"Who built you?" I asked it as it lay on the couch . I t wa s odd how we kept calling it a flying carpet . I t had not reall y flown . S o far, it had only bolted across the room and calml y w ithstood a withering flame. Before closing my files, I scanne d for information on "how to fly a magic carpet." i t was then I found out about "ley lines." I memorized as much as I could so I could tell Ames h about them . T he food came while he was still in the bathroom. Fro m the sound of it, he was taking a bath, not a shower . S igning th e bill, I scooted the waiter out the door, preferring to set up th e dishes myself .

"A mesh, the food's here!" I called. "Hurry, the steak wil l get cold." Which was not exactly true. Like at many fine hotels, t he hot meal came with its own miniature heater .

"Coming!" he called back .

"T here are bathrobes in the closet. Grab one and let you r clothes soak in the sink with a little soap. After dinner, we ca n rinse them out and spread them over the balcony."

Amesh sounded uneasy . "I t would be an insult to you r father to use his robes. "

"T hey're not his robes . T hey belong to the hotel. "

" Why do you want me to wear one? "

"T hey're super comfortable . T hey come in a variety o f sizes . T here are big ones, baggy ones." I was trying to tell him-without saying so-that he coul d wear a robe and still cover his stump. He seemed to get th e message .

"T hey're nice," he called through the door . M inutes later he appeared . I was not surprised to see h e had chosen a large robe . T he end of his right arm was completely covered. He spread his shirt and trousers on the chair s on the balcony . I had already put the carpet in my bedroom so its myster y would not haunt us while we ate. Amesh appeared to appreciat e the gesture. His eyes were riveted by the amount of food . I let hi m have the bulk of our steak and gave him the baked potato . I wa s content with the fries. He laughed as I drowned them in ketchup .

"You won't be able to taste them," he said .

"Fries are just vehicles for ketchup and salt. Didn' t you know? "

" We prefer to put vinegar on them. "

"A h. You take after the British. "

"T hey take after us." He took a bite of steak. "Oh Allah," h e blurted out before he could stop himself. We both laughed .

"You like it?" I asked .

He cut off another bite. He used his stump to keep his for k steady, then sliced the meat with his left hand. He was surprisingly smooth . I f I hadn't known he was missing a hand, I woul d never have noticed his handicap from watching him eat .

"I 've never eaten food that tastes this good," he said. "D o the hotels in America cook such delicious meals?" I did not have the heart to tell him that the Hilton was a n American hotel .

"Our food's almost as good," I said .

While we ate, the inevitable happened . E ven though hi s bathrobe was large, the material was bulky, and it had probabl y not been easy for him to tie the end of the right arm . I don' t think he had even tried, and at one point the sleeve slid up an d his stump was exposed . E ven though I averted my eyes, I wa s not quick enough. He saw that I saw, and he lowered his hea d in shame . I didn't know what to say, but felt I should say something .

"I 'm sorry," I said .

He was a long time responding. "Why are you sorry? "

"I 'm sorry for . . . P rying."

A note of bitterness entered his voice . I t was not aimed a t me, I knew, but it made me sad nevertheless. " I'm not ashame d of it," he said .

"Why should you be?" I gushed .

"I was not born this way, you know . I lost the hand in a n accident. "

"I know," I said .

He looked up. "How do you know? "

"I mean, I a.s.sumed you did," I said . "I t's hardly noticeable. "

"I t was the first thing you noticed about me. "

"N ot true . T he first thing I noticed about you was that yo u liked knocking me to the floor. "

" You were trying to steal my package. "

"I was trying to get to know you."

He blinked, startled. "Why? "

"B ecause you looked interesting."

He shook his head. "You just wanted me to lead you t o your father. "

"T hat was just an excuse . T he main reason I ran over to th e counter was to . . . T o say hi. "

" You have a strange way of saying hi, Sara . "

"I 'll take that as a compliment." I sat back on my knees .

"N ow tell me how you lost your hand. "

" Why? "

"I want to know . I want to know you, Amesh . I n case yo u didn't notice, we're in the middle of a strange adventure together .

And I have a feeling it's going to get stranger before it's over. "

"T here was an accident at my job . I lost it. What els e can I say?" I put my right hand on his left knee. "that's fine; you don' t have to say any more. But I wish you would . I wish you'd tell m e exactly what you went through. Because I know it hurts, wha t happened, and if we're to be friends then I should know wha t happened."

He looked away, out at the calm blue of the mediterranean, t hen back at his plate. "Can I finish my supper first?" he asked .

"S ure." I returned to my seat. "You have to finish all th e desserts, too. "

"A ll right," he muttered, returning to his steak . I t didn't take as long as I thought it would for him to finis h e very thing. Okay, I helped with the cheesecake and ice cream .

But soon Amesh was telling me what happened to his hand, an d when he was done I went out on the balcony to check on hi s clothes . T hey were virtually dry, holding on to just a few drop s of moisture, which would help with the ironing. And I felt I ha d to iron them; I had talked him into washing them and now the y were all wrinkled . T he ironing board was not in the bathroom or living room . I searched my bedroom and found it in my closet . I t was onl y while I was stepping back into the center of the suite that I realized something was wrong . I panicked. "Amesh!" I cried .

He was beside me in a moment. "What's wrong?" I was close to tears. "the carpet! it's gone!"

His dark eyes scanned the area . T hen he relaxed. H e pointed outside the sliding gla.s.s door that led to my privat e balcony . I t also overlooked the sea, although it faced nort h rather than west. Like the main balcony, it was equipped wit h two lounge chairs .

One was occupied. By the carpet . I t seemed to be relaxing beneath the evening stars .

We took a step closer and realized it was doing mor e than that .

"A llah . . . "

" G.o.d . . ."

We both whispered in awe .

Chapter Four.

T he Few stars in the evening sky were causin g the stars in the center of the carpet to glow with a soft light . I n some mysterious way, the carpet was tied to the heavens .

Plus, the carpet had climbed off the bed, strolled onto th e balcony, and made itself comfortable in a lounge chair. Wit h each pa.s.sing miracle, the case grew stronger that we had discovered something truly magical .

Waves of wonder washed over me. When we showed th e carpet to the world, we'd be famous. We'd probably be on th e cover of every magazine in the world .

Yet, the odd thing was, the more I contemplated how ric h a nd famous the carpet could make us, the less wonderful I felt . I ndeed, I started to feel sick to my stomach, and I quickly identified what the problem was. We had to keep the carpet secret . I just knew it. Call it intuition, call it paranoia, but I didn't wan t anyone to know about it . I worried about how I could make Amesh understand .

We were still on the balcony when he turned to me. " I don't think we should try to sell this for money." I felt a wave of relief. "You feel the same way I do . I t ha s to be protected." I paused. "We have to keep it totally secret . I swear I won't tell my father about it. "

"I swear I won't tell my Papi about it. "

" What about mira? "

" What about her? "

"A mesh! "

"I share every thing with mira. We're practically the sam e person. I'm not kidding; even if I don't tell her about it, she'l l know . S he can read my mind . S he'll know something's up. "

" Let her know something is up. Just don't tell her it's a magic carpet."

Amesh hesitated. "All right. "

"I 'm serious . I need you to swear on Allah's name."