Page 13

Which Contains a Deceptive Amount of Illusions

R ahma stayed by the cart to keep an eye on things while As’ad bought what they needed. On his way back, he found a secluded area to play the necessary melodies for their plan. Since all of them required concentration, he wanted to be in a place where volume wasn’t an issue.

First, he tested the plan with smaller illusions. The trick of leaving off the last note until he was ready worked with his rat illusion, but he had never tried playing two distinct unfinished tunes. He piped a short song for a fire orb sans the final note, then did the same for a single rat. Giving himself a moment to catch his breath, he then piped the last bit for the orb, immediately followed by the end of the rat song. Both illusions went off without a hitch. That relieved his mind of a great burden.

Then he settled in to compose the music he needed for a rampaging bear, a growing fire, and multiple disguises, both stationary and moving. The effort exhausted him. As he stretched out on his back and watched the clouds scuttle by, he renewed the melodies he had assigned to each illusion. It would be disastrous if he misremembered any of the endings.

It took longer than he liked to peel himself off the ground and complete the journey to Rahma. She took one look at him before planting him on a rock and shoving food in his hands. The sustenance went a long way toward renewing his strength. Only when Rahma was fully convinced that he was able to take on the next portion of the plan did she let him stand up.

Having both of them lay the fuse for the powder doubled the risk, so Rahma had reluctantly agreed that As’ad could do that part himself. Though taller than all three of the dwarves in the tunnel, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself against them if she got caught. As’ad had the pipe and could activate the bear at any time. He was also pretty confident that he could outrun both Rahma and the dwarves. Wasted on cross-country, he was a natural sprinter.

She sent him off with a kiss on the cheek that took him by surprise, as well as the admonition to, “Do your thing, Brown-eyed Piper!” He left in something of a daze until the sight of the house shook him out of it.

The most dangerous part, in As’ad’s opinion, would be sneaking into the tunnel through the house. Broad daylight reduced the effectiveness of his rock disguise outside, and it was completely useless for the eight steps between the side door and the tunnel. Suha had mentioned that the hour or so before dinner was a restless period. The youngest ones were tired and cranky, and their guards were scarcely less so. As’ad set the first part of their plan in motion to coincide with that timeframe.

Sure enough, as he slid through the side door, he could hear grumbles and a thin wail upstairs. A soothing voice tried to calm the crier, but he hadn’t worked out if it was Suha or not before he was in the tunnel.

The trip to the dwarves’ campsite felt both shorter and longer than the night before. He had to move with more caution due to the sloshing of his oil jug when he walked too quickly. After what must have been at least a year, he edged painstakingly around the fire on the opposite side of the dwarves.

The youngster had given into his boredom and now played cards with the others. As’ad kept an eye on them as he sidled past, but no one gave any indication that his presence was noted. Upon reaching the barrels, he paused to take stock of the situation. They were clumped together somewhat haphazardly, and he wasn’t sure if they were all close enough to keep exploding after the first barrel was ignited. Rahma could likely tell him, but she wasn’t here.

Just in case, he wound the oil-soaked cotton rope around the farthest keg and through the rest. Then he oh-so-gingerly laid out the rest of the line along the side of the tunnel. At the last minute, he had realized that the white rope would reflect the firelight in the dark tunnel and conjured an illusion to hide it. The gray-speckled rope was now difficult to see. This was great for hiding it from the guards while also causing him mild anxiety as he lost track of what he had already put down.

The first length of rope didn’t run out until he had passed the campfire and dwarves. His heartbeat drowned out even the youngest one’s whining as As’ad fished around for the end of the next rope, inhibited by the narrow opening that only allowed him to get three fingers inside. Fortunately for his heart and the plan, he located the end without spilling too much oil and was able to knot the two lengths together. As speedily as he could, he laid out the rest of the rope, stopping twice more when the lines ended. He was less careful the farther away from the dwarves he got, but his estimation was solid and he reached the tunnel door with very little extra.

With great diligence, he took out a cloth and wiped as much oil off his hands as he could. He then tucked the oil jug with its remaining dribbles close to the tunnel wall, where nobody was likely to trip on it as they ran for the exit. Taking his time to check that he recalled the correct melody, As’ad stepped as far to the side of the door as he could and played the final notes.

He was rewarded shortly after with a growl and a scream.

Soon the tunnel echoed with snarls from the imaginary bear and yells of panic from the dwarves. Pounding footsteps arrived much faster than As’ad had predicted, and he was forced to reassess their running abilities. It seemed dwarves were very dangerous over short distances.

The trio burst through the tunnel door, hollering and raising a fuss. Then they did something As’ad hadn’t predicted: They barricaded the door.

As’ad listened to them on the other side, calling their compatriots for assistance and dragging things over to block the way. His abused heart hammered in his chest as he tried to imagine a way out of his predicament, but the continued growls and roars of the bear behind him made it difficult to think. He was tempted to end the enchantment but didn’t want to risk it if the house guards were liable to check.

Realizing there was nothing he could do to escape if the dwarves stayed in the house, he concentrated, then played the conclusion of the music for the fire illusion. During its conception, he had tried to imbue the fake flames with the scent of smoke, as well. He had never attempted that before, but since the pipe could fool both eyes and ears, he was hopeful. The original plan called for starting the real fire before the lack of a smoky aroma could spoil anything.

The yelling outside his door subsided. Waiting for the “fire” to be discovered was both tedious and fraught with tension. The illusion had been designed to start on the third floor, in the corner farthest from the tunnel door. It was supposed to spread too fast to be conceivably put out by a fast thinker, but not move toward the second floor or the stairs before everyone could get out. Still, it was risky creating an illusion that he couldn’t see and control.

Shouts that had nothing to do with bears or leaving one’s post finally reached his ears. The children had discovered the fire and were letting the world at large know about it in no uncertain terms. In the confusion of frantic yelling and stomping, As’ad thought that one of the dwarves had confirmed the flames and that all of the guards had left the building. Lighter but no less panicked footsteps caused the stairs to creak ominously, and the riled voices of frantic children filled the gap left by the dwarves.

As’ad was beginning to wonder how long it would take for Rahma to notice that a real fire wasn’t starting and no boom was going to come from the mountain when he heard the sound of heavy things being shoved across the floor. The tunnel door cracked open soon after, and Suha peeked her face in. She couldn’t see him, of course, but she said, “We’re the last ones,” then pushed the two teenage boys behind her toward the side door.

Not wasting any time, As’ad hurried out after them. He snagged the oil jug and upended it over the pile of broken crates and other castoffs that had been used to lock him in. While the oil drained onto the makeshift kindling, he ducked back into the tunnel—leaving the door wide open—and used his flint to ignite the rope fuse. His first attempts fumbled due to his shaking hands, and the continued yelling from outside added to the pressure. He had just heard someone call for water when the fuse lit at last.

Pausing only to be sure that the fire continued beyond the initial spark, he turned his attention to the space under the thoroughly emptied jug. This time, his efforts produced results on the second try. Out of the corner of his eye, As’ad could see light from his fake flames flickering outside the nearest window. Checking one last time on the fuse, he felt a surge of triumph as the mini blaze rounded the bend. Then he took himself off through the side door.

Outside, the dwarves raced back and forth between the well halfway down the small hill and the house. As’ad looked more closely and realized that two of the guards were running around, one manned the well, and the other three watched either the chaos or the fire. Since they only had one bucket and what appeared to be a helmet, their firefighting toils were largely in vain.

Relying on his still-intact rock wall facade, As’ad eased his way along the mountainside until he found a good niche to stand in. No curious glances turned his way. Suha had taken advantage of the guards’ preoccupation and was efficiently directing the children through the fake privy one at a time. She never took her eyes off the dwarves and only sent the little ones through when she was sure they wouldn’t be observed. Rahma waited somewhere on the other side to help corral and quiet the escapees.

As’ad wondered when it would occur to the dwarves that they had a couple of strong-backed young men who could be useful in the fire-dousing endeavor. He was destined to wonder forever because a muffled explosion, immediately followed by a louder, bigger boom, shook the ground. The guards stopped what they were doing to stare at the mountain, but no evidence of the detonation showed from the outside. They had wisely chosen to stash the spark pepper a safe distance from the house. One more dull roar interrupted the agitated argument that started when the guards realized their shipment was well and truly gone.

Laughter from a rock might have been enough to distract the dwarves from their heated discussion and attempts to assign blame, so As’ad held it in when he heard one of them accuse the bear. By then, Suha had whisked everyone out of sight, and while it was difficult to tell where the illusory fire ended and the real flames began, As’ad felt confident that there was no saving the house at this point.

The dwarves wound down the debate, then looked at the inferno and seemed to reach the same conclusion. The reminder that they still had a profit to protect got them moving again. They spun around to check on the captive humans, only to discover an absence of any other living creatures. One of the guards took the lead and began barking orders. The dwarves separated into pairs and spread out to search, united in this, at least. As’ad worried that his illusion wouldn’t hold if any of them were familiar with the usual terrain and noted the anomalous placement of the privy shack.

His fears never came to fruition. The searchers accepted the evidence of their eyes and didn’t venture into the small space that housed the hidden children. As’ad had chosen not to make that illusion one-way. He knew it would be hard on them to wait in silence when they couldn’t see what was happening, but he didn’t trust that the youngest ones could keep from reacting if a guard came too close.

As he maintained his own rigid posture to keep a chunk of the “cliffside” from shifting, he watched the dwarves move farther and farther away. Once he deemed them out of sight and out of hearing range, he forced himself to count to fifty before dropping his illusion.

Leaving the pretend privy and rock wall that protected the children in place, he passed through the fake wooden shack and quietly called for Suha and Rahma to start bringing everyone out. That illusion could stay until it wore off on its own. He didn’t want the guards to come back and notice the difference.

The girls led their tense and fearful crew into what passed as a yard. Suha helped arrange the children in a line. She and Rahma led the littlest ones by hand while the oldest boys brought up the rear to prevent stragglers. Flames, both real and not, reflected off more than one pair of wide eyes as they walked around the house.

As’ad ranged on ahead, taking them in the direction of the handcart. Only two of the dwarves had come this way. Since one of them had already experienced a bear encounter less than an hour ago, As’ad played a quick ditty to renew the experience. He left the song unresolved so it would be ready when he needed it.

Retrieving the handcart took only a few minutes, but every second chafed. As he fought to get the vehicle moving on the unfriendly path, he became aware of a significant flaw in their plan: They didn’t have a destination apart from not here . Nor did he know how they were going to feed and care for twenty-two orphans.

As’ad worked hard to keep the growing dread off his face. When the route finally leveled out, he offered to let the smallest two ride in the cart. Rahma and Suha had been carrying them for a while by then. The boys in the back offered to hold the young ones who clamored to be picked up as soon as the girls’ arms were free. Situating everybody so they could keep moving only took a few minutes, but it felt far longer. The sun had slipped behind the mountains by now, the light fading fast.

The two in the cart fell asleep as the group reached the edge of the abandoned warehouses the woman in blue had led them through the day before. The rest of the children were too tired to complain or give away their position, for which As’ad was eternally grateful.

Rahma appeared at his side, a child clinging to each hand. In a voice that he could barely hear over the wheels of his cart, she asked, “Do you know where to go from here?”

He did not.

“I can help you with that,” an unfamiliar and silky smooth voice said.