by Diana Fraser
“We will find her.”
Lucy pulled her free hand to her mouth to try to stifle the sobs that hitched in her throat while leaving her other hand in the warm grip of Razeen. She felt as if she were disintegrating. After being independent for so long, being strong through everything, to have the man beside her give her comfort, brought the tears to the surface.
“Don’t cry, Lucy. All will be well.”
“I never cry,” she sobbed, somehow managing to prevent the tears from flowing. “I don’t cry. That’s weak. I’m not weak.”
“Even the strong cry sometimes.”
It was as if his words triggered all the fear that had been tied in a knot in the pit of her stomach for so long and when she opened her mouth to speak only a wail, a cry of despair, filled the car.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The oasis was filled with the eerie sound of the rabab being played by one of his men. The man was singing of loss and longing and Razeen felt his emotion with every pass of the bow across the single string. Razeen shifted his back against the thick trunk of the date palm and gazed across the darting flames of the fire at Lucy, her plate of food untouched before her. If she’d been surprised at his reaction to her revelation, then he’d been more surprised. His affair with Lucy was meant to have been a no-ties fling, on both sides; a short interlude before his life changed course. Then why had her lack of trust in him, thrown him so completely?
He turned away, unable to watch her any longer. He took a long drink of hot tea and wished he’d brought something stronger, something that would have numbed the unwelcome feelings that had surfaced from nowhere and refused to leave. She got to him. She uncovered the hurt of his youth—when his father had shown him how little he believed in him—that he could have sworn he’d forgotten.
He looked across to his men who were grouped around a second fire, alternately singing and drinking. He envied them their apparent simplicity. Then he tilted his head slowly until only the stars were visible between the leaves of the ragged palm fronds. He recited the names of the different star groups out of habit. He’d used to ride out into the desert to escape his father, then stay out all night to make his father worry. He hadn’t though. His father hadn’t bothered to try to find him. It had been his staff who had gone looking for him. His father hadn’t cared.
“What are you looking at?” Lucy’s voice was soft on the quiet night air.
“The stars.” He didn’t look at her but heard her move around the fire toward him.
“You’re a romantic at heart.”
“You don’t know me,” he snapped back, the deep-seated bitterness lashing out in an attack he immediately regretted. Then he turned to her and his heart stopped. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders and her eyes were huge in the flickering light of the fire. She looked so vulnerable it made his unromantic heart ache.
“No, I don’t. It was just an observation.” She pushed her hands through her already untidy hair. “Look, I’m tired, I don’t want to argue. I’m going to bed.”
He reached out and grabbed her hand and was shocked by the way she jumped. “Wait, I’m sorry. For all of this, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault Maia disappeared into the desert with a stranger.”
“No, but it’s my fault I was angry with you for your lack of trust in me.”
She shook her head incredulously. “But I did trust you; I trusted the man on the beach, that first night; I trusted Razeen.”
“What do you mean?”
“I could have turned tail, swam back to the boat. After all I was alone, wearing only a bikini, with a strange man. But… I trusted you. Instinctively I trusted you.” She shifted her gaze to the fire whose flames danced in the darkness. “And I was right. You were, you are, wonderful: so caring, so respectful.”
He drew in a ragged breath that contained the subtle scent of her skin and stood up, unable to stop himself. He pushed his fingers through her unruly hair so he could see her face and brought his lips to hers, needing to connect with her, needing to give back to her, what she’d just given him. She melted in his arms. And the feeling of her body so soft and warm, folding against his hard body, ignited a fire deep within him. He deepened the kiss, needing to feel her tongue against his own, her breath mingling with his. He groaned as she slid her hands around his waist and pressed her hips against his. He pulled away sharply, still holding her face in his hands.
“Are you sure you want this? Tell me now if you don’t.”
She covered his hand with her own. “Razeen, come to me?” Her voice sounded small and tentative, lost in the empty hollowness of the vast desert. Even the singing was silent now. He took her hand and they walked swiftly through the warm sand of the oasis to his tent.
Once inside, darkness enveloped them and there was nothing but the delicate scent of Lucy’s skin, the feel of her curves under his hands, and the taste of her lips. He lay her gently onto the bed and slowly unbuttoned her top. She gasped as his fingers brushed against her sensitive skin and she arched back when he pushed her bra aside and claimed her breast with his mouth. He’d made love so many times in his life and yet it had never felt like this.
The silence and darkness of the desert, that weighed heavily all around them, combined with the emotional turmoil of the past twelve hours to create an intensity of experience that heightened every sense. Everything appeared so simple now, in this timeless place where only he and Lucy existed.
Within seconds they’d both shed their clothes and he swept his hands up her naked body as she angled herself for him. He knelt back and watched her as he rolled on the condom. Then, gently he slid inside her, dipped down to her lips and kissed her. Their mouths didn’t leave one another’s as he moved, slowly at first, inside her. He took his lead from her: the movement of her hands over his body, the breath that quickened in his mouth, and the heat of her skin against his. Never had he felt so in tune with another person.
With all external thoughts and senses closed down—no sight in the darkness, nothing but the stillness of the desert outside the tent—he knew Lucy only through his body that moved instinctively in and against hers. Together they edged toward that bliss that lay like a flower, furled and waiting, only released into bloom by the communion of their bodies.
Lucy awoke with a start. She couldn’t think where she was for a moment. Slowly she searched the grey, pre-dawn light that crept in around the flaps of the tent. Then she remembered. She sat bolt upright, her heart thumping; the cold desert air sweeping over her like an icy cloak. Today, she’d see Maia.
The muttered prayers of the men and the smell of smoke from the re-kindled fire drifted into the tent. She lay back onto the soft pillow and turned to where Razeen had lain beside her. There was nothing but an indentation on the pillow. She reached out and touched it, curving the back of her hand where his head had lain. It was still warm. She closed her eyes and remembered the long night of murmured talking, of quiet touching and lovemaking. Somehow, despite her habitual insomnia, she’d fallen asleep in his arms. She hadn’t expected to. But she’d felt so safe, so content. Guilt swept through her. What was she doing sleeping in someone’s arms when her sister could be out there in the cold, needing her?
She leaped up and pulled on her clothes quickly, overlaying them with the abaya, as much for warmth as modesty, and looked outside. Razeen was with the handful of men he’d brought with him. They’d finished their prayers and were busy preparing food. But Lucy didn’t move toward them. She wanted to be on her own.
The sky was completely clear of cloud and stars still littered its inky heights but the faintest blush of red lit the eastern horizon. Even while her stomach was tied in knots with anxiety about her sister, Lucy couldn’t help be aware of the massive silence around her. The early light shimmered in its inexorable creep toward dawn.
She pulled the robes more tightly around her and stepped away from the tent, out further into the blank wilderness that she’d never known to exist. Even when
she’d felt at her most isolated, on a small boat in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, there had always been things to do, people to talk to, the noise and sights and smell of the sea. But here, there was simply nothing. And yet it didn’t feel diminishing, it felt curiously enriching. It wasn’t an empty peace; it was a rich, replete peace.
Slowly she turned a full circle looking up at the night sky that was suddenly shot with vivid fiery red, the flame extinguishing the light of the stars almost at once. Then she turned back to the camp where, through air that lightened with each passing minute, she saw Razeen silently watching her. She smiled briefly, tentatively, although he wouldn’t see her from that distance, just as she couldn’t decipher his expression. But she knew what he was feeling because somehow, he’d seeped under her skin, in the same way the light was penetrating the darkness, just as the silence was finding its hold within her.
She turned to look up at the stars once more but they’d vanished under the fiery glow of the still hidden sun. She turned to Razeen but he was also gone. She didn’t know what was happening with Razeen. But today wasn’t a day to find out. Today was all about Maia.
After a quick breakfast, they were on their way again, bumping across the uneven desert, this time following the other vehicle. The only feature to break the empty expanse was the mountains toward which they were headed.
“I’ve never been anywhere so remote.”
“If you think this is remote, you should visit Qawaran, Zahir’s kingdom. It’s landlocked but with an ancient heritage.”
“This is remote enough, believe me. Do you really think Maia is near here?”
“The city of caves is high up in the mountain ahead. The Bedouin there are cave dwellers.”
Lucy tried to imagine where she was going but failed. She rolled her head around the head rest and surveyed the miles and miles of unvarying landscape. “She can’t be there. It’s just not like her. But if it’s not her, we’ve come to a dead end again.”
“Maybe; maybe not. We won’t know until we get there. If she’s not there, then perhaps someone will be able to tell us where to go next.”
“Perhaps.” With the coming of the daylight Lucy’s confidence had waned. Now it had almost totally disappeared. This wasn’t the kind of place she thought she’d ever find Maia: Maia, who loved fine clothes, sparkling company, a fun time. Despair engulfed her. “No, not ‘maybe’. She’s not here. I’ve taken you from your work on a wild goose chase. I’ve wasted your time. You may as well turn around.”
“Don’t be hasty, Lucy. Let’s follow this lead and see where it takes us.”
She groaned. “What were your friends thinking of, leaving her there?”
“She’s a grown woman. She’s, what, mid to late 20s? From all accounts she doesn’t drink alcohol—”
“Never has—”
“And doesn’t take drugs. She was in full command of her faculties. She made a decision to go somewhere of her own accord. My friends respected that and so must you.”
“Then tell me why the hell didn’t she let me know?”
He shook his head. “That’s what I don’t understand. Is there any reason you can think of why she wouldn’t?”
She huffed. “Apart from the fact I wouldn’t have approved of her wandering off into the desert alone—”
“I don’t think she was alone—”
“I can’t think why she wouldn’t have told me.”
“So she knew you’d disapprove?”
Lucy was silent for a moment as she remembered all the times that she’d expressed her disapproval of Maia’s lifestyle.
“And that disapproval would have hurt her, irritated her, or angered her?” Razeen continued.
Silence filled only with the roar of the four-wheel drive hung in the air for long moments. “Hurt her,” she whispered.
She felt his eyes upon her, just as Maia’s would have been: condemning her for her judgment of her sister.
“I think you have your answer as to why she sent you messages to reassure you she was safe, but which covered her real tracks.”
“You don’t understand. My sister is…she’s a sucker for beautiful things. I worry about her.”
“She looked after you, didn’t she? For how long?”
“From when she was fourteen really until we left New Zealand with some money she’d demanded from my father.” She bit her lip. “Five years.”
“And so perhaps she wants to break out a little now. Follow her own interests, find out what she wants.”
“She’s not your sister. I know her.”
“People change, Lucy. Sometimes people are not who we think they are.”
“Not Maia. Not Maia,” she repeated softly.
Maia couldn’t change. She’d been her one unvarying point of reference her whole life. Her lifeline. They may have chosen to go separate ways but she was always there for her—at the end of a computer, at the end of a telephone. She needed her to be there. Lucy would be lost without her. Even now, she felt that loss, stirring in the pit of her stomach, sickening her with fear. All her hopes were pinned on what she’d find in the city of caves.
She fixed her gaze on the mountains ahead that grew slowly larger with each mile they drove. The changes were subtle at first but slowly they took form—revealing their texture, dips and shadows—as if they were ancient living creatures, awakening.
Eventually they arrived and began to wend their way up the side of a dry wadi, a steep track with a long vertical drop to a dry riverbed. For an hour they climbed until they reached a plateau, encircled by higher mountains still. They slowed and Lucy looked around puzzled.
“Are we here? Is this it?”
“That’s why it was a successful stronghold: invisible and defensible. You see over there where the rocks seem lighter, that’s the entrance.”
They drove toward the cliff and still Lucy couldn’t see the entrance. It wasn’t until they were immediately upon it that she saw it overlapped and, in what appeared to be a continuous cliff face, there was an opening. They drove around the projecting cliff and turned into a narrow valley. It ran only for a short while before suddenly opening out into a huge amphitheater in the middle of which was a lush oasis and a collection of stone buildings. The vehicles pulled up in a cloud of dust. Lucy surveyed the empty valley and her heart sank.
“There’s no one here.”
“They’re here all right. Come on, let’s go and find your sister.”
Lucy closed her eyes at his words as she tried to contain the feelings of hope and fear that raged inside. Then she jumped out. The oasis was lush and beautiful; the buildings, ancient and frustratingly empty. She turned back to the cliff face and narrowed her eyes. Set in the stunning earthen orange of the near vertical cliffs, were irregularly dotted black holes.
She followed Razeen to the cliffs, flanked by his men who automatically fell into defense formation around them both. At first the place appeared empty—the only sounds being the overhead cry of a hawk disturbed from its hunt and the clatter of the palm leaves as they swayed in the light breeze—but as they grew closer she saw the dark holes were cave entrances. But still no sign of people until Lucy saw the shimmer of light on the stone face coalesce into the form of a man. Then a group of men stepped forward, seemingly out of a sheer wall. Then the details revealed themselves. Carved out of the rock face in front of the openings were small terraces, complete with plants, tables and chairs. Beyond the sheer rock face, lay a city.
Within moments greetings were called and the men—dressed traditionally in billowing white dishdasha robes and checkered keffiyehs, complete with ceremonial knives in honor of their visitors—mingled with Razeen’s men. With loud shouts of greeting, the strangers ushered them to the caves.
Lucy impatiently searched for signs of Maia. But there were none.
“Where are the women?” Lucy whispered to Razeen as he listened to the sheikh’s rapid flow of talk.
Razeen barked out a few words to the local sh
eikh and a woman, swathed in a black burkha emerged from one of the caves. Perhaps this woman would know where Maia was. God, she hoped so. She had so many questions.
Then the woman stopped in front of her, her kohl-encircled eyes searching Lucy’s.
“Don’t you recognize me, Luce?”
Shock slammed into her as the woman stepped up to Lucy and brought her arms around her. Stunned, Lucy couldn’t move, couldn’t speak just moved her cheek against the woman’s cheek and whispered, “Maia?” She pulled back, gripping the other woman on both arms. “Is it really you?”
“It’s me, Lucy.” She pulled off her scarf to reveal a perfect oval face, a smile bursting with happiness and green eyes as direct and intelligent as ever.
Tears suddenly flowed down Lucy’s face. For too long she’d been trying to keep them in; for too long she’d suppressed the fear that something dreadful had happened to Maia; for too long a selfish fear had gripped her that she was, truly, alone.
“Hush,” Maia soothed as she pulled Lucy once more into her arms. It was as if Lucy were twelve years old again, bullied by the other girls at school for her lack of cool clothes, her oddness, her skinniness, with only Maia’s words of wisdom and arms to run to. “Hush, Lucy.” Maia pulled away and smoothed Lucy’s hair back and smiled comfortingly. “You’ve grown your hair since I last saw you.”
Suddenly Lucy was furious and gripped her too tightly. “Grown my hair! Is that all you can say? Maia, what the hell are you doing here? Are you all right? Have you been hurt?”
“I’m fine. I’m here with Mohammed. I met him on the coast. He was working at a village by a lodge where I was staying with friends.”
“You’re here because of a man?” Lucy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Razeen had said as much but she hadn’t believe him. “Maia! How could you be so selfish? I’ve been sick with worry.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do for the best. I knew you wouldn’t approve but I had to follow my heart. I arranged with a bureau to post regular blog entries for you, to reassure you.”