"T he pointer?" I asked, checking my own compa.s.s, whic h was still pointed north .

"Come look." He stopped and swung the compa.s.s aroun d his body. He took a step back . "I t's strongest here."

I ran to his side . S tudying his compa.s.s, I saw that he wa s not exaggerating-the arrow was all over the place . T hen I realized mine was spinning, too . T he carpet fluttered against my chest!

"i think we've found one!" I exclaimed .

"B ut we just started looking. How is it possible?" I did not answer, but since I had found the carpet, especially since it had begun to jump around the hotel room, I ha d wanted to take it down to the beach . T o this beach in particular, a lmost as if I knew the spot was special .

We wasted no time spreading the carpet on the sand . T hen . . . N othing happened, it just lay there . I could hear th e disappointment in Amesh's voice when he said, "maybe it need s a spell to work, after all. "

"N ot so fast. We were about thirty feet apart and walking parallel with each other when your compa.s.s began to dance .

But my compa.s.s didn't react until I moved to where you wer e standing. "

"S o? "

" What if this ley line doesn't run toward the water? Fo r all we know it runs down the beach . I t might be importan t to find exactly where it's headed and align the carpet in tha t direction."

Amesh nodded. "Good idea. We'll scan the area."

Leaving the carpet as a focal point, we walked up and dow n the beach, trying to find where our compa.s.ses spun the most .

We finally decided that the ley line led farther down the beach- a way from the hotel-but at a slight angle that would eventuall y take it out over the water .

We hurried back to the carpet and aligned it as carefully a s we could . T he change was instantaneous . I felt a magnetic charg e in the air .

Yet the carpet-although it quivered on the sand-did no t float into the air. Amesh and I knelt beside it, and for the firs t time I took out a small flashlight . I n the light, we saw that thre e ta.s.sels-one in the center and two on the edges-were standin g straight up . T he same was true of the rear of the carpet makin g six ta.s.sels alive altogether . I stared at Amesh across the carpet .

"A re you thinking what I'm thinking?" I asked .

He nodded. "they look like controls." I turned off the flashlight-i did not want to disturb th e carpet's reaction to the stars-and sat on the front of the carpe t that faced the water . M y taking control annoyed Amesh .

"I think I should be the first one to fly it," he said .

"Why? "

"I know how to drive a car. "

"S o can i." my dad had given me a few illegal lessons. "Bu t I don't think that's going to help us fly this baby. "

" Sara , you have no right . . . "

"A mesh, get on the back and relax . I know what I'm doing. "

" How can you know?" he asked, reluctantly obeying .

"it's just a feeling I have." I pulled back on the front middle ta.s.sel-one of the thre e on my end of the carpet that was standing up-and the carpe t immediately stiffened and gently bobbed off the sand . S till, i t went no higher than an inch, not even when I pulled all the wa y back on the ta.s.sel . I t was only when I pulled back on the sid e ta.s.sels that we began to gain alt.i.tude .

"Glory be to Allah!" Amesh gasped . I laughed. "Amen!"

When we were six feet above the sand, I eased the centra l ta.s.sel forward, expecting it would cause us to drop down. Bu t nothing happened, and I wondered if the ta.s.sels worked together like the clutch and gears in a car . I experimented a minute and discovered that the centra l ta.s.sel was the clutch . I t seemed to have two functions: to lift th e carpet and to move us forward-depending on the position o f the other ta.s.sels . T hat was the key . T he central ta.s.sel had to b e pulled back first, then the side ones would work . S uddenly we began to glide forward!

"Whoa!" Amesh cried .

We were flying at maybe ten miles an hour, a fast run .

Laughing, I pushed a ta.s.sel forward and we picke d up speed .

"T his is so cool!" I screamed . T he sensation of speed was exhilarating, of course, bu t even more striking was the feeling that I was one with the car p et . I was an eagle, the sides of the carpet were my wings . I fel t so powerful .

"Can we go higher?" Amesh asked .

"Do you want to go higher?"

He looked down . "N ot if we're going over the water." I had my back to Amesh, and to the circle of stars as well . I asked if there was any change in the star field. "You won' t believe this . I think they're moving," he said .

"M oving? How? "

"A round and around," he said . I twisted my neck to see. "Around what? "

"I don't know . M aybe you shouldn't sit on them. "

"I 'm not," I protested .

"Your b.u.t.t is." I shuffled forward and tightened my crossed legs . T he carpet was long enough for me to easily avoid the star field .

"Can we go faster?" Amesh asked .

"Just a second," I replied, pushing the central ta.s.sel forward . I n an instant our speed doubled . T hat scared us both; t here's a huge difference between twenty miles an hour and forty .

As the dark sand swept beneath, the wind blew in our faces an d roared in our ears . I pulled back on the ta.s.sel and we quickl y slowed .

"T his is fast enough!" Amesh called .

"I hear ya!" I shouted . I n a minute our course took us away from the sand an d o ver the water. Fortunately, the sea was calm . T he swells beneat h us were less than a foot . T he air was thick with moisture- a huge change from the dry desert air that gripped the city .

"Have you tried turning right or left?" Amesh asked .

"N o. But I'm pretty sure the other ta.s.sels will let us t o do that."

Amesh glanced toward the sh.o.r.e. Already we were over a quarter of a mile from the beach . I f we were to get dumpe d now, it would be a long, hard swim back, although not an impossible one. For me. With his missing hand, he might no t make it .

"T ry it, before we get too far out," he said . I hesitated . "I f we jump off this ley line and there isn' t another one beside us, we might end up in the water. "

"T he ley line should be wide enough to let us turn," h e said .

"I checked it on the beach . I t was only ten feet across."

Amesh sighed. "We're going to have to turn around a t some point. "

" Do you know how to swim?" I asked .

"Yes. But I'm not a fish." I understood. With each second we allowed the carpet t o take us away from the sh.o.r.e, we increased our risk .

"T here's another set of those things, the ta.s.sels, stickin g up behind me," he said . "I 'll try to use them to take us back t o the beach."

"Don't you want me to try to stop the carpet first?"

He hesitated. " I'm not sure . I f we stop, we might sink. "

"I t beats flying away from the ley line. "

"A ll right, give it a try. But be careful," he said . S lowly, I pulled back on the central ta.s.sel. We immediately began to lose speed, until we came to a dead stop . T h e carpet felt less stable floating above the water than it did flyin g over it .

Behind me, Amesh turned so his back was to me .

"You just pushed the central ta.s.sel forward?" he asked .

"Yeah . S lowly."

A minute went by. We continued to hover in place. Below, t he surf lapped with a soothing hypnotic sound. Overhead, m ore stars became visible . I turned sideways so I could watc h the stars at the center of the carpet move . T hey appeared t o rotate around an invisible point .

"I t's not working," he finally said in disgust, fiddling wit h the ta.s.sels at his end .

"M aybe only women can fly magic carpets. "

" Or maybe your controls got locked in place because the y were the first ones we used. "

"I suppose," I said, although I thought that sounded silly .

Amesh turned to face me . "N ow that we've stopped, w e might be able to turn the carpet around without leaving the le y line. Grab that ta.s.sel on the right and bend it to the right . S e e what happens."

"We might tip over. "

" We have to try; we can't float here all night." I reached for the ta.s.sel. "We should have experimente d more with the controls while we were still on the sh.o.r.e. "

" We should have done a lot of things . T urn us around."

He knew I was stalling, but I could not explain why . T h e sense that the carpet didn't want to go back plagued me . S till, I did what he said, and slowly the carpet rotated . I n seconds w e were facing the sh.o.r.e. Far off, the lights of istanbul beaconed . T here lay safety, I thought, security. But out here on the carpe t was magic, and I didn't want to give that up so soon .

"T ake us back at a slower speed," Amesh said .

"A ye, Captain." Letting go of the right ta.s.sel, I reached fo r the central ta.s.sel to restart our silent engine. But the second I did so the carpet rotated back out to sea . I wondered if it wa s responding to what I wanted, instead of obeying what my hand s were doing .

"Why did you do that?" Amesh demanded .

"I t did it on its own." I added, "maybe it wants t o keep going. "

" You talk about it like it's alive. "

"M aybe it is. "

" Don't be silly. "

"A mesh, I feel something coming from it. Like you ca n sense another person's feelings . I t's like it's telling me it wants t o go farther."

"Where? All we have in front of us are miles of ocean. "

"A ren't there islands off this coast? "

"T he closest one is Arya . T hat's thirty kilometers away. Bu t I don't think we'll run into it, especially in the dark. "

" Why don't we go just a little farther, then make up ou r minds . I don't think it's going to dump us in the water an d run off."

Amesh was not happy with the plan. "You can't be sur e of that. "

"I have faith in the carpet." t he words just popped out of my mouth, but they wer e true . N ot only did I feel the carpet was alive, I felt it was a friend. An ally, at least . I bent the central ta.s.sel forward until we reached a spee d of about fifteen miles an hour, which proved to be easier on ou r nerves . T he night air continued to brush my face but it was a gentle breeze . T o my surprise, the farther we went, the calmer the ocea n grew . S oon the sea was as still as a mountain lake and utterl y quiet . T he lights of Istanbul faded to a faint glow. We were abl e to see the band of the milky Way, along with a million mor e stars. Glancing over my shoulder, I could see the center of ou r flying machine was thick with stars .

Behind me, my friend's breathing grew long and deep, an d I wondered if he was sleeping . I t was true; he was out cold. A t first I was stunned. Who could sleep at a time like this? I pulle d h im away from the carpet's edges so he wouldn't fall off, and h e still didn't wake up . M y thoughts turned to what Amesh had told me in th e hotel, the story of how he had lost his hand . I t had happened onl y a year ago, the previous summer. He was still healing from th e blow, he admitted, emotionally as well as physically. But losin g a hand-maybe that was something he would never get over .

He had described the accident to me briefly, almost as i f he were reading from a prepared card. He was working a circula r saw that was used to cut long steel cables that provided a framework for the tons of concrete the company poured daily . T h e machine was a powerful band saw-it had the power to reshap e diamonds. He wore goggles while he worked to protect his eyes, a nd a mask to block out the fine particles of metal the saw t hrew into the air .

One day a smoldering shard of metal flew off a cable h e was cutting and struck his goggles. Ordinarily that would no t have been a problem, but the shard was exceptionally large an d hot . I t melted through the goggles and filled the interior wit h scalding steam. Afraid the metal was going to reach his face an d maybe put out an eye, he panicked and fought to get the goggle s off. unfortunately, in his haste, he swept his right wrist in th e path of the band saw .

He said he didn't feel his hand get cut off . T here was jus t a sharp tug, no pain, followed by a wave of dizziness. He probably fainted; he was never sure. Fellow workers picked him u p a nd took him to the hospital, which was where he woke th e next day .

"Why weren't they able to sew your hand back on?" I asked . I t sounded to me like it could not have been removed mor e cleanly. But he shook his head and said his hand had landed o n a pile of recently cut cable that was still smoldering . T he fles h was too badly burned, the doctors could do nothing with it .

"Why don't you wear a prosthesis?" I asked . T he question troubled him. He told me the hospital kep t offering him lots of prostheses, but he couldn't find one tha t was comfortable. He would get sores and blisters where th e synthetic material touched his skin. He was beginning to thin k he was better off without one .

"Did you sue the company?" I asked .

He didn't sue anybody; his boss had convinced him tha t the accident was his fault . T hey covered his medical expense s and paid his salary while he was at home healing. But he wa s never given money for his pain and suffering .

"Why didn't you hire a lawyer?" I asked . T he question angered him . T his was turkey, not America; p eople did not go around suing each other. He was lucky th e company gave him his job back . I t happened; it was an accident, h e said . I t was Allah's will . I did not know what else to say, so I gave him a hug an d told him he was very brave . T hat, at least, made him smile. Wh y was he brave? For being clumsy?

"no," I said. "Because you're not a whiner." t hat was the end of our discussion about his hand . N ow, flying over the water on our magic carpet, halfway t o G.o.d knew where, I reflected on his story and realized it had al l been a lie . T here were too many convenient details. A burnin g shard had hit his goggles and melted into them. He worked wit h the band saw every day, but rather than taking a step back to ge t his bearings or turning it off, he swept his hand directly in it s path . T hen, his hand just happened to land on the one spo t where it could be destroyed .

Who cared if it was turkey? He was working for a n American firm. He should have been able to sue for big bucks .

Plus, who would have given a teenager such a skilled jo b in the first place? the fact that Amesh was now a gofer mad e sense . M aking deliveries was an ideal job for a young man on a moped. But cutting critical cables to within a fraction of a n inch? Gimme a break-that was a job for someone with year s of experience .

Amesh continued to sleep . S cooting around, I saw the kno t on his right sleeve was loose. His stump was visible, althoug h it was only a shadow in the dark . T aking out my flashlight an d cupping my palm over it to reduce the glare, I decided to take a closer look .

"Forgive me, Amesh," I whispered . I had to be sure I was right . I lifted his sleeve several inches .

Amesh had not lost his hand with a single clean cut . T he ski n o n his lower right arm was heavily scarred. A number of scar s reached past his elbow . T he discolored flesh on his stump wa s particularly b.u.mpy . T he surgeon who had sewn it together ha d done a poor job. Or perhaps he had not had much to work with . T he wound had been no accident . I t was as if Amesh had been hacked with a sword .