Cave of Wonders

by Matthew J. Kirby

  She fell asleep easily in the comfortable bed Farid prepared for her and woke up the next day after a deep and restful sleep. She’d even slept through the sounds of the Mongol assault.

  “This is the fifth day,” Dak said next to her.

  That meant in two more days, Hulagu would be there.

  “What should we do?” Dak asked.

  “I don’t know,” Sera said. “Last night I thought we should leave today.” But lying there in her comfortable bed, and already looking forward to breakfast, Sera had second thoughts. “We can’t talk to Hulagu until he’s in the city. There’s no way we can get to him now.”

  “So you think we should wait?” Dak asked.

  “It seems like that’s what your parents wanted us to do.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.”

  Sera let her eyes close again. “Then let’s wait.”

  That day and the next came and went. Sera and Dak ate. They slept. Farid told them wonderful stories to try to distract them, and they played chess. But the whole time Sera worried about Riq, and with the distant sounds of the Mongol army, she never felt at ease.

  On the morning of the seventh day of the siege, Sera woke up feeling especially anxious. This was the day Hulagu would take the Persian Tower and move into the city. Sera and Dak still had to find a way to get to him. It was time for them to leave.

  “Wake up, Dak.” She shook him.

  His eyes stayed closed. “No.”

  “Dak, we need to get going.”

  “Why?”

  “We have a Break to fix.”

  “I think we should stay here until we know what my parents wanted us to do,” Dak said.

  “But we don’t know how long that will take,” Sera said. “And besides, your parents aren’t thinking about the Breaks. They’re thinking about you, and we don’t have a lot of time.”

  “I know, but —”

  A pounding on the front door echoed through the whole house, followed by the sound of a man’s voice shouting. “Farid! Rug Merchant!”

  Sera and Dak got to their feet and walked out of their room into the courtyard. Farid was already at the front door. He looked back, and motioned for them to step aside, out of view.

  Farid opened the door. “Ah, Market Inspector, what an unexpected honor to have you at my home.”

  Market Inspector? But he was SQ! How had he found them here? This could not be happening, Sera thought, not after they had finally escaped the grand vizier.

  “Spare me your flattery,” the Market Inspector said. “You know why I have come.”

  DAK TRIED to control the panic rising up inside him. The Market Inspector was here. He had tracked them down. Or had Farid betrayed them? Dak didn’t want to believe that, not when his parents were the ones who had made sure he ended up here.

  “I apologize,” Farid said. “But I do not know why you have come.”

  “I’ve come to confiscate your rugs,” the Inspector said.

  “Confiscate? My rugs? But why?”

  “They are needed by Hulagu Khan.” The Inspector’s voice sounded just as snobby and annoying as Dak remembered it. “He who will shortly breach the city. There is a palace being prepared for him on the eastern side of town, and for this palace we need rugs. Your rugs.”

  “I am happy to offer my rugs to Hulagu Khan,” Farid said. “Give me some time to prepare them.”

  “We’ll be back in one hour,” the Market Inspector said. “Have them ready.”

  The front door shut, and Farid came back into the courtyard. Dak and Sera stepped out from their hiding place.

  “That scoundrel!” Farid punched the palm of his hand. “My rugs! For that warlord?”

  “Actually . . .” Sera said.

  Dak turned to look at her. She had that look in her eyes, the one she got when she was about to solve a great big math problem.

  “Do you need a couple of carpet inspectors?” she asked. “One more time?”

  Dak saw where she was going. And it was perfect.

  Before the Market Inspector returned, Farid helped them get rolled up in two carpets and loaded onto a cart with the rest of the rugs going to Hulagu Khan’s new palace. He hitched a donkey up to the cart, and it just so happened that its rear end sat right in front of Dak’s carpet. Like, inches away from his face, and of course, he couldn’t move his face to escape it. What was it with beasts of burden and this Break?

  “Are you sure about this, little pirashki?” Farid asked. He sounded really nervous to Dak.

  “We’re sure, Farid,” Dak said. Maybe he could wiggle his hand up to plug his nose if he needed to. . . .

  “Thank you for everything, Farid,” Sera said. “I hope the ten dinar is enough.”

  “Ten dinar?” Farid laughed. “That’s a small fortune! But I would have helped you children for nothing. You are good, and the Market Inspector is bad, and I wish I knew why you were doing this.”

  “We told you,” Sera said. “And it’s a secret no one else can know.”

  “Ah, your story about the djinn and the ring that can move through time?”

  “Yes,” Dak said. His story had sounded better when he told it the second time, to Farid. They had been trying to find a way to explain their mission.

  “Well, do not be offended,” Farid said, “but a children’s story like that does little to reassure me.”

  “Trust us,” Sera said. “We —”

  “Shh,” Farid said. “The Market Inspector comes.”

  They fell silent, and a few moments later, the Market Inspector’s voice came from right beside the cart.

  “Well done, Rug Merchant,” he said. “You have made the right decision.”

  “Allow me to transport my wares to the great khan’s palace?” Farid asked.

  “Certainly,” the Market Inspector said. “I shall accompany you.”

  A moment later, the donkey brayed, and the cart lurched forward, tipping and rocking along the road. Dak stayed as motionless and silent as he could. He could almost feel Sera inside her rug next to him. The cart moved slowly, so slowly it began to drive Dak crazy. He didn’t like not being able to see outside. He didn’t like not knowing what was going on.

  But after what felt like forever, the cart rocked to a stop, and the Market Inspector cleared his throat.

  “Hulagu Khan appreciates your offering, Rug Merchant,” he said. “For it, you shall be spared. You may stay here following the siege, where you will be safe from the pillaging to come.”

  “Th-thank you?” Farid said.

  That actually made Dak feel good. By helping them, perhaps Farid had helped himself.

  “Leave the rugs here,” the Market Inspector said. “I’ll have someone attend to them.”

  Uh-oh. That would not be good.

  “Uh — that is, I could take care of that,” Farid said. He sounded a little flustered. Was it enough to make the Market Inspector suspicious? “I find pleasure in seeing the places my rugs will be enjoyed, you see.”

  The Market Inspector was silent. Dak waited.

  “Very well,” the Market Inspector said. “That will save me the trouble. They are intended for Hulagu Khan’s reception hall.”

  “Excellent!” Farid clapped his hands. “The more people to see my rugs!”

  “Yes, indeed.” The Market Inspector sounded like he had already lost interest in the rugs. “Carry on. I have important work to attend to. But I shall be back to examine them, and if I find any of them to be lacking in quality, I shall be very displeased. I maintain a very high standard in the markets of Baghdad and for the khan.”

  “Yes, muhtasib,” Farid said.

  There was silence for a long time. And then Dak heard Farid sigh. “I’m taking you both straight into the lion’s den,” he said. “I feel like I should ask you to forgive me.”

  Over the next little while, Farid loaded the rugs, one by one, into Hulagu’s new palace. That meant there were several periods where he was gone, and Dak and Sera were
alone in the cart, hoping no one stopped to examine the rugs. They didn’t dare whisper to each other, even though they wanted to.

  Eventually, Farid came back and said, “All right, up we go.” Dak felt him hoist Sera away from him, out of the cart with a grunt. “My, what a heavy rug,” Farid said then, chuckling.

  Dak smiled. Then he was alone. Really alone.

  He tried to ignore the donkey rear taking up his vision, and pictured instead where they might be. Their surroundings. Maybe they were in the street. Maybe they were in a courtyard. He tried to imagine what was going on. Where his parents might be. Where they had gone after they’d given the dinars to Farid. Were they already ahead of them at the next Break? Dak started wondering what that might be, too. Where would they go, and what would they see? His thoughts felt like a runaway train sometimes. Just completely unstoppable.

  He heard footsteps returning, and braced himself to be lifted in the air.

  “Hmph,” a voice said. “One rug left.”

  Oh, no! No, this could not be happening! Dak sucked in a breath. It was the Market Inspector!

  “You there! Guard!” the Market Inspector shouted. “Come move this rug inside so we can clear this cart from the courtyard. I don’t want it here when Hulagu Khan arrives.”

  Where was Farid? Dak began to really panic now.

  “Yes, muhtasib,” another man said. His footsteps came closer.

  Okay, stay calm. Dak would just go limp. Become one with the rug. Maybe the guy wouldn’t notice. Maybe he’d just carry him right on inside. Dak relaxed every muscle in his body, down to the tips of his fingers.

  He felt hands reach around him, and then a squeezing as the hands lifted him from the cart.

  “Omph!” the guard said. “Heavy rug!”

  “Excellent,” the Market Inspector said. “A heavy rug is a high-quality rug. Farid really did bring his best. Guo Kan will be most pleased. The happier we keep Hulagu, the stronger our position. Take it inside to the audience hall.”

  “Yes, muhtasib.”

  Dak rolled and the world spun, and then he came to rest high up, probably on the guard’s shoulder. As scared as Dak was, and as fast as his heart raced, he kept his body as loose as a noodle, bouncing a little with each of the guard’s steps.

  Moments later, Dak heard voices up ahead.

  “My — my rug!” That was Farid. “You did not have to bring it to me. I would have unloaded it myself.”

  “The Market Inspector asked me.”

  “The . . . Market Inspector?”

  “Yes, but since you’re here, would you mind taking it?”

  “YES!” Farid shouted. “I mean, of course.”

  Dak rolled again, downward, and came to rest at a lower spot. He could tell Farid held him now.

  “That’s a high-quality rug,” the guard said.

  “Th-thank you,” Farid said.

  Dak heard the scuff of the guard’s boot as he turned and walked away, the echo of his footsteps receding.

  “Pirashki?” Farid whispered.

  “I’m here,” Dak whispered back.

  Farid sighed and carried Dak a little ways before setting him down. “We are alone,” the rug merchant said, and unrolled Dak from the rug.

  As it opened up and spit Dak out, he kept rolling a couple of times, his legs and arms flopping. Then, between the stress and his desperate attempt to relax, all he could do was just lie there. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to move again,” he said to himself.

  “Well, you’d better.”

  He looked up at Sera.

  “Hulagu will be here soon.”

  Dak struggled to his feet, and for the next little while, they helped Farid lay out the rugs, covering the floor of the audience hall. Dak got a look at his surroundings for the first time. The room was tall, with carved, blue-tiled pillars supporting a vaulted ceiling. High windows let light into the rafters, but left everything below in a soft glow. There were some pieces of wooden furniture along the walls, cabinets and chests. Probably meant to hold the tributes and gifts sure to come Hulagu’s way. At one end of the room stood a raised platform, with an ornate, upholstered seat. Hulagu’s throne. They were definitely in the right place. And almost at the right time.

  After that, and with a lot of reassurance, they eventually convinced Farid to leave them alone to wait.

  “I almost wish I could have seen it,” Dak said.

  “What?” Sera asked.

  “The battle at the Persian Tower,” Dak said. “It’s an important moment in history.”

  “A violent moment in history,” Sera said. “No thank you.”

  “Bad things happen,” Dak said. “Really bad things happen. I mean, just think about how many wars have been fought here in Baghdad.” He shook his head. “Ancient wars. And modern wars. You’d think we could learn something from that and not keep making the same mistakes.”

  “I know bad things happen,” Sera whispered. “But I’ve seen enough wars now to know exactly what they’re like, and I don’t want to keep seeing them over and over.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Dak said.

  Sera pointed over in a corner. “There’s an empty cabinet over there. I think we can hide inside it until the right time.”

  Dak nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

  SERA AND Dak hunkered close together inside the cabinet, waiting. It was musty smelling, and old. They knew it was only a matter of time now until Hulagu entered the city and took possession of his temporary palace. Only a matter of time until Sera and Dak had to step out and convince him, somehow, to spare the House of Wisdom.

  “Listen to that,” Dak said. “The siege has ended.”

  Sera cocked her ear. He was right. The sounds of battle had gone, and the city was quiet.

  “Won’t be long now,” Dak said. “Hulagu . . .” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

  “What?” Sera asked.

  “Nothing.” He looked away. “I was just going to annoy you with another historical fact.”

  Sera felt a little stab of guilt over the way she’d been treating Dak. Sure, his historical babble annoyed her at times, but it was also something she liked about him, because it was part of what made Dak . . . Dak.

  “I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you,” she said.

  He looked up.

  “Riq and I have been kind of ganging up on you. Normally, I’ve always defended you, but I haven’t been a very good best friend lately.”

  “That’s okay,” Dak said. “You had the whole seeing your parents and the Cataclysm thing to deal with. It’s fine. We’re good.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course,” Dak said. “And I mean, I know I can be really annoying. I just can’t stop it.”

  “You really like history,” Sera said. “And that’s okay. That’s you.”

  A few minutes of silence passed. Then Sera asked, “So, what was the fact you were going to tell me?”

  “Well” — Dak grinned a little — “it was that —”

  But noises outside the cabinet cut him off. The clomp of many, many boots, and the din of many voices. It sounded like a wave rushing into the room. It settled all around them, and Sera opened the cabinet just a crack to look out. The room had filled with Mongols, and some people from Baghdad, too. They milled around, talking, waiting. Then, a short while later, they all fell silent at the same moment, and Sera knew that meant Hulagu had entered the room.

  Everyone dropped to the ground in a bow, and Sera saw him stride forward with wide, bow-legged steps. He wore flashing, gilded armor, with a jeweled helmet on his head, and a jeweled sword at his waist. Behind him came a train of attendants, including Tusi.

  Hulagu climbed to his throne and sat down. The entire room stayed bowed as his imperious gaze swept across them. “You may rise,” he said at last.

  What followed appeared to be some kind of ritual, where generals and warriors came forward, and Hulagu praised them for doing something extr
aordinary on the battlefield. Then they exchanged gifts, and the gifts were almost always clothing of some kind. The fancier the item, the higher the honor, with some hats and coats appearing to be made entirely of gold thread and gemstones. So Hulagu gave gifts to his people, and the people gave gifts to Hulagu.

  “What’s going on out there?” Dak asked. He couldn’t see like she could.

  She tried to describe what she was seeing, and Dak nodded along, but she could tell he was frustrated.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I just want to know what’s going on,” he said.

  Sera smiled. That was very true of Dak. Everywhere they went, he was always trying to figure things out, and usually he did that by relating whatever was going on back to history in some way.

  “Okay,” she whispered, willing to try harder for him. “Now there’s a guy giving Hulagu a long coat with a peacock embroidered on it. Lots of silver thread.”

  Dak sat back, listening, and this went on for a long time. So long, Sera actually started to get bored, and she yawned.

  “This could go on forever,” she said. “What should we do?”

  “Keep waiting?”

  Sera didn’t want to keep waiting. Everything depended on them getting this right. They’d planned to try to find a time when Hulagu would be alone, but that didn’t seem to be happening anytime soon. Maybe not at all.

  “I think we should do it now,” she said.

  “Here?” Dak straightened. “In front of everybody?”

  “Yes,” Sera said.

  Dak rubbed his head with both hands. “Okay. Okay, let’s do it.”

  Sera opened the cabinet door, and they slipped out of it. Everyone in the room was facing the khan, so nobody noticed them at first. They managed to glide along the wall, getting closer and closer to the throne.

  But then Sera made eye contact with a warrior, and he nudged the guy next to him, and that guy turned to stare. Then he tapped the guy in front of him, and that man shouted.

  “You! What are you doing here?”