The brightly colored carts and stalls of the bazaar were ignored by the child, running between stands selling jewelry inset with precious stones and flapping fortune teller's tents. She glanced behind her,and seeing that her pursuer was gaining on her, dodged a group of men in white togas, and dashed straight through a collection of multicolored silk scarves dancing in the breeze. Out the other side, she felt a spark of hope. A crowd was gathered around a fountain, by which a fabler crouched. He was very good, telling just b of the story so that his audience would drop more shiny, metal Riyals into the bent copper pot at his feet.
The child quickly lost herself in the crush of people, and her senses came alive, now that she had successfully shaken her tail, she hoped. She suddenly could taste the air, thick with the rich foreign spices, smell the scent of the noble ladies' perfume, and feel the hard packed sand of the market under her bare feet, the press of heavy silk squashing her till she could barely breathe. I must get out. I must get out... she thought frantically, shoving people aside, finally reaching the open road. She ran along down it, for what seemed like forever, until she stumbled off the uneven cobbles and into the sparse grass and rocky sand that lined the way.
She sighed, relieved to be away from all the people, although unsure exactly why. She glanced at the sky uneasily, confused by the sudden darkness. A jagged flash of lightning arched across the sky and a loud rumble of thunder rent the air...
Asrar Abal jerked awake, her tattooed hands flying to the wall and floor to reassure herself that she was in the present, not the past. She felt fine sand beneath her fingertips, and she relaxed into sleep once more.
