A cold hand undid Amira's blindfold and her gag. She coughed and swallowed, trying to rid her mouth of its dryness. Footsteps echoed from behind her and Amira whirled around. She was alone. A mahogany framed couch sat in the center of the strange circular room. Puzzled, Amira sat, feeling like she was in a dream. A stinging feeling alone the side of her face reminded her that it was not. Slowly she reached a hand to her face and pulled it back, slightly sticky with dried blood. Shivering she pulled her knees to her chest and looked about the room she seemed to be imprisoned in.

The walls were black as night, shiny and seamless. The floors were a cold marble that seemed to gleam mockingly at Amira. She shook her head, silently berating herself for giving the floor a persona. The couch on which Amira sat was the only furniture in the room, though directly across from her, a bookshelf seemed to be built into the wall. Amira winced as her bare and raw feet hit the cold marble floor. She walked over to the bookshelf, aware of the reflections in the walls about her.

Then something flashed in the corner of her eye, behind her, reflected in the wall's polished surfaces. Slightly behind the couch where she had been sitting was a tall basin. A thick column supported the basin, which was illuminated with sculptures of silver wolves, eyes gleaming red. Tentatively Amira reached out to touch one of the wolves and pulled her hand back abruptly as a snarling seemed to echo in her ears. It was possible, was it? Amira shook her head, certain she was going crazy. She leaned over and looked into the black water that lay still within the basin. The surface was smooth and Amira could see her reflection. Her auburn hair was tousled and upon her cheek was a long scratch, which still oozed blood.

Amira shuddered as she remembered the cold voice, the stinging as a cold dagger was slid across her cheek. She had winced and something growled, strengthening the fear that had begun to rest in her stomach.

In a daze, Amira reached out to touch the water when a voice stopped her.

"Hello Amira."

Damis paused besides the road and dug around in his pack for the camel's skin he had filled with water. The sun beat down heavily and sweat was dripping off his dark brows. The dusty road was empty of any travelers, and Damis was feeling a little alone. He pulled the water out and was about to take a drink when he noticed a hunched old woman coming towards him. A cloak hid her hair, but her mouth was open and her eyes pleading.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked politely. He offered the camel's skin and gratefully the woman took it. She took a couple sips before handing it back, her eyes full of gratitude.

"You look like a fine young man." her voice was crackly and she paused unnecessarily between her words. "What is a young man like yourself doing out here? Shouldn't you be tending a wife?"

Damis looked down at her words, wondering if he should tell the truth. He looked up and met her silvery blue eyes. He was quiet for a moment, lost in her ocean like eyes, so young compared to her body, yet so full of an infinite wisdom. Damis decided he should tell the truth, because he sensed this strange woman already knew it.

"I am searching for the missing princess." he said. The woman nodded knowingly and looked at Damis, an amused twinkle in her eye.

"Well son," she said gruffly. "You are going in the wrong direction." she smiled slightly revealing yellowed, crooked teeth. Damis looked at the sun, which indicated he was heading east.

"I'm sorry?" Damis looked at the woman, confused. Perhaps she was just a crazy old woman. Something within Damis knew that claim wasn't true. The woman smiled again.

"Well, here is something to aid you with finding the princess." She pushed away a side of her cloak and pulled out a bundle from one of the patched pockets in her skirt. Damis shook his head politely.

"No, you really don't---" He was cut short when the woman raised a hand.

"Yes, I do." For a moment, Damis thought her voice seemed younger, like it belonged to a different body than that of the woman who stood in front of him. "First, a cloak." She unwrapped the bundle and handed it to Damis. He looked at it, felt the fine fabric beneath his calloused hands. The woman reached in her cloak again and pulled out a longer gift. With a gasp, Damis realized it was a sword. She unwrapped the sword and scabbard and handed it to Damis. She winked and said "You will need this."

Bewildered Damis accepted the gifts. 'Why are you…" he began, his voice trailing off helplessly. The woman laughed, a cackling laugh and shook her head.

"There is more than meets the eye, Damis." she said his name with a finality and Damis shuddered slightly. "The cloak shall guard you from sight, and the sword shall help you face the truth." Damis tried to grasp her words.

"Wait! I don't…" Damis looked around. As quickly as she had come, the woman had gone. Perplexed, Damis stared at the gifts which were still in his hands. Then with a quick glance at the sun he began heading towards the west.

Quickly Sahar gathered the rest of the things on her mother's list and headed home as soon as possible. If Amira was in danger, then Sahar could not just sit around and wait for Amira to return. Her mind flashed to something she had remembered from her childhood, a chillingly similar tale.

She had crept downstairs because she couldn't sleep. Her mother and father were sitting at the table, deep in conversation. Sahar knew she would be reprimanded for still being awake, so she sat down on the second to the bottom step and listened to her parent's soothing voices.

"Just like that. Leaving the poor king and his daughter. probably had a lover or something." Nadeem, Sahar's father said, his voice full of mixed emotions.

Isis, Sahar's mother shook her head. "No Nadeem. She was stolen! She didn't just leave. I used to work in the palace and I saw how devoted Malakeh was. She just never returned home.

Sahar buried her face in her hands, now haunted by images of the lovely queen. Missing? Young as she was, Sahar knew something was amiss. Quietly she stood and tiptoed back to bed, slightly disturbed by her parent's conversation. She laid in bed staring at her ceiling for a long time before sleep finally took her.

Malakeh was never found. The circumstances were so eerily familiar. Sahar smiled slightly to herself as she took her brother by the hand and led him out of the market, ignoring his protests at leaving early. She knew what she had to do. And she knew her parent's would not approve.

The moon had risen well into the sky, its fullness just beginning to diminish. Its light was still brilliant enough to pack a small satchel. Sahar moved quickly and quietly, careful not to wake her peacefully sleeping brother. She made her way into the main room and was about to exit the door when she paused. Hastily she reached for the parchment and charcoal that was left on the table and scribbled a note to her parents and brother.

Dear Mother, Father and Ghazal,

I am leaving to go find the Princess Amira. Sounds crazy, but I promise I will explain later. Do not worry about me; I know how to take care of myself. Do not fear, and please continue life as normal. I will be home as soon as possible.

Much love to all of you.

Sahar

The moon cast silvery shadows over her path as Sahar walked down the long alley way and into the main marketplace. It seemed so empty, an area that hours before had been brimming with people. A gentle wind blew and the air was crisp and dry, as all desert nights were. Sahar walked quickly down the market roads and soon found herself on the open road, the desert before her. She paused at the entrance to the city, before sneaking past the sleeping guards. Sahar shook her head as she realized how easy it must have been to kidnap the princess.

Once outside the city she stood still, drinking in the moon and the stars and the blue shadow they cast upon the sand. The wind blew stronger her and Sahar wrapped a cloak about her body, and looked around. She realized she didn't know where she was going. She thought for a moment, and then closed her eyes. In place she spun slowly, almost waiting for a sign. She opened her eyes, facing west. She looked back and shrugged before heading off down the lonely desert road.

Soon the moon was hanging low in the sky, seeming so close Sahar felt like she could reach out and touch it. The sky was beginning to brighten slightly, a rosy dawn appearing on the horizon. Sahar rubbed her eyes sleepily and realized she had not had very much rest.

Several large rocks protruded from the landscape along the road. Many of these rocks were taller than several grown men standing on one another. Wearily she made her way to the nearest one, careful to remain close enough to the road to keep from getting lost, yet far enough away to feel safe. The side of the rock facing away from the road housed a shallow cave, a slight overhang shading the inside. It was just deep enough to shield Sahar from the wind and the elements.

Slowly Sahar laid out the blanket she had brought with her and lowered herself to the ground. The ground was hard and rocky, yet Sahar fell asleep almost instantly, her mind comforted by the sound of the wind whistling over her temporary shelter.