No one in the crowded market suspected that the new entrants wearing expensive silk thawbs were thieves searching for Ali. The oblivious shopkeepers filled the market with loud calls, tempting their customers with fake dreams and pretentious discounts; voices competing for attention. But, strangely, the crowd had gathered around a mysterious shop where a girl was whispering secrets.

A woman, dressed in purple harem pants and a jet black embroidered blouse with a golden ornamental niqab over her face, murmured a whisper in the hunched, tired old man's ear. The old man's eyes grew with astonished frenzy and the crowd sighed a collective — Woahh! —as the woman waved her hand and manifested a sparkling bottle filled with a swirling liquid that looked like molten silver. She handed it over to the old man —"Drink!"

The crowd's attention shifted to the old man. His fatigued and wrinkled hands opened the bottle. He lifted the bottle to his lips with agonizing difficulty and sipped. And then he sipped again. And gulps followed large greedy gulps till he finished the bottle.

Crash!

The crowd stepped back and covered their eyes as the old man threw the empty bottle hard, the shards flying in all directions.

The hunched old man fell to his knees, covering his thick white beard with his palms, squeezing his dim eyes, and burying his face between his knees. The woman approached him and covered him with a black satin cloth, embroidered with symbols seen only in fables and tales. The sounds of the market were replaced by chants and spells that the woman whispered, and the astonished crowd stepped back with excited murmurs.

The chanting stopped. The woman froze. The crowd froze too. The entire market held its breath. In one swift motion, the woman pulled the satin cloth away.

'Ya Khuda!' The astounded voices of men, women, and children filled the market, their eyes wide open, looking at the miracle in front of them. The tired, fatigued, hunched, white-haired old man was gone. In front of them stood a young man with a thick black beard, shining hair, and clear skin. Standing erect as a spine, the young man walked a suave walk to the mysterious woman and placed five gold dinars on her open palms.

All eyes shifted their attention to the woman. She closed her fist against her heart, rolled her eyes, and whispered a chant. She threw open her palms. The coins had miraculously disappeared.

No one cared about where the young man had vanished in the crowd. No one cared about another man's dreams. They all rushed to the woman to buy their own dream today.

An old man was next in queue but hesitated as he felt a heavy muscular arm pushing him aside. He stared back at the owner of the hand but surrendered to the sharp anger and disdain in the eyes that reflected a razor-sharp dagger hiding in his belt. The crowd scattered into the market and the woman sat alone, surrounded by forty burly men, anger and insolence reeking through their eyes. A heavily bearded man, broad as a horse, spoke in a commanding husky voice, "I think you have something that belongs to us."

The woman rose with delicate ease and set her satchel aside, the deliberate sound of glass bottles revealing the contents of her bag. Facing the tall man, her blue eyes penetrated his dark eyes. The man was not accustomed to courage and blinked in surprise and admiration. She rolled her eyes as if possessed and whispered in a rising pitch, "The few drops of dreams you steal are just dreams. I can offer you a potion to make them real. Not just a few bottles, but an entire reservoir. Reality shall be yours. FOREVER!"  — the forever boomed with her rising voice.

The man stepped back. Who was she? He looked around at his companions, all equally in awe. The woman whispered again, "Say the word, O Leader of the brave men. What shall it be? Dreams or Reality?"— her Reality boomed over Dreams.

Before the man could conjure up his desire and form words, the woman turned, picked up the satchel, and walked away. He ran after her. "Reality! Give me the potion and I shall make you my Queen."

"O Leader, how noble of you to offer me the crown. How shallow of you to think I need your pity. I seek nothing that you possess." She walked closer and whispered in his ear, "Meet me at the mosque. Come alone with barrels to carry the potion. The reality you seek is not to be shared."

She looked at the man's thirty-nine companions with intentional disapproval and hurried away, disappearing into the crowd.

***

"Who was she? What does she offer? What did she whisper? What did you tell her?" Many angry questions filled up the cave as the leader sat in the centre and his companions petitioned with grim nods and unfaithful disbelief. The leader kept quiet, clenching his jaw and fist, the veins on his forehead swelling, throbbing with rage, the white of his eyes turning pink with anger. He stood tall with a cold red bottle in his hands. His angry voice blasted a warning that echoed in the cave, "You dare question your leader? One more word and I shall submerge you into lifetimes of nightmares."

Silence resonated in the cave, interrupted only by a 'plunk' in a far corner. All eyes followed the sound. The hopeless chameleon had lost its grip and had fallen again. It froze into a statue with its tongue still sticking out, turning brown, black and green, praying to merge into the background somehow. The eyes returned to the leader.

"The woman is in possession of a treasure. We shall all go. You all will hide in empty barrels that I will carry to fill the magic potion. Dare not doubt me again!"

***

Ali and Marjiana knew that their little facade in the market was not enough to fool the thieves. They needed more. The sun was dialing faster than usual and endless possibilities of things that could go wrong invaded Ali's anxious young love. "I can't ask you to do this for me. This is too dangerous. They cannot recognize you. Please forget this. I will leave the place and hope that they leave you alone."

Marjiana walked to him and hugged him tight. "I love you, Ali."

The silence between them vaporized the anxiety and Ali looked into Marjiana's eyes with a resolve she hadn't seen before. "Let's find another way. I don't think expecting the thieves to come in empty barrels and then scalding them to death is likely to work. We have to think out of the box."

Marjiana looked at Ali with a spark in her eyes, "What did you say?"

"Umm! We have to think out of the box. Why?"

She kissed him, melting his heart in an instant.

"We will. But not out of the box."

He looked at her and stole a quick kiss.

They shouted in unison —"The Bottles of Dreams!"