Nomad's Dream

by August Li

  “Of course!” Flicker—who hadn’t made any pretense of touching the food—swiped his fingertips through the candle’s flames and smiled as the fire bent toward his touch, lengthening far beyond its natural range to trail after him like a lovesick suitor.

  “How are you—” Sehrish drew a breath, held it, and dabbed the corner of her mouth with a cloth napkin, looking at anything but Flicker. “Of course, Sheikh Mu’awiyah. But we should speak of your situation as soon as we’ve satisfied our hunger. The time you were… away caused hardships for many people.”

  Janan stiffened. This was the very thing he’d feared the most, and he was profoundly grateful when Isra squeezed his hand. “What people?”

  “Mostly your employees, sir. Upper management has been particularly affected by your absence.”

  “What kind of business am I in?”

  To her credit, Sehrish banished the look of shock and devastation from her face almost as quickly as it appeared, but Janan hadn’t missed it. Little escaped Isra’s sharp gaze, and even Flicker put his elbows on the table’s edge and leaned in as if expecting an entertaining show. Poor Sehrish looked uncomfortable at the center of attention, and Janan offered her what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

  “The majority of the business is in construction and real estate,” she said. “In Cairo alone, we’ve developed entire tracts of underused land, converting it to offices, golf villas, luxury apartments, and all kinds of businesses. We own hotels in Dubai, Riyadh, Ankara, and Tehran. One of our most recent projects is a series of resort homes along the Red Sea Coast.”

  Janan nodded. “So we build things. Homes and businesses. That’s a noble profession, at least.”

  Sehrish’s wide-eyed stare demonstrated her disbelief. “Sir, we’re hardly carpenters. That’s part of it, yes, but your great-grandfather made most of his fortune by scouting out land no one else wanted and making it valuable. Today we employ builders, suppliers, transportation companies, human resources, management, training, sales… I could go on. Our legal department alone employs over six hundred people. It is an empire in every sense of the word. A company worth many billions and growing.”

  “And as with any empire, someone covets it,” Flicker said. “Who?”

  “It’s a competitive business,” she explained. “Our vast resources allow us to outbid many smaller companies on lucrative projects, so I suppose we’ve made some enemies, but that’s just the nature of the game.”

  Janan drummed his fingers on the tabletop, almost wishing he could speak to Sehrish alone. But no. That was unfair. Isra had shared his deepest secrets, and Janan would do the same. Isra had promised to accept his flaws, and Janan had never trusted anyone more. “Was I… unscrupulous? Was I willing to cross moral lines to advance this business?”

  She laughed. “Much less so than many wished you would be. If anything, you have too much integrity. You’ve always insisted on taking care of everyone who works for you, right down to the men who dig the ditches for the sewer lines—paid them fairly and offered them benefits and the opportunity to get ahead. You put out quality work, never cut corners, never compromise on safety. Some of the shareholders were worried when you took over for your father, but you succeeded in making our name synonymous with the highest in quality. When someone wants the best, they come to us.

  “You’ve dragged some of our investors kicking and screaming into the modern era, sir. Shown them we can maintain our traditions while embracing diversity, capitalizing on the ideas of other cultures. I… I would not be in my position if not for you. How many men would hire a woman as a personal assistant and bodyguard? And I’m not alone. Thirty percent of our upper management is female. That’s a towering achievement.”

  “So… well loved by everyone,” Flicker drawled. “A paragon of virtue and innovation. Yet someone found a reason to rob you of your memories and dump you on the streets of Qena, certainly hoping you would never be found.”

  “With wild horses,” Isra said, “the stallion who can secure a watering hole secures his place as the leader of the herd. He ensures his access to all the mares. But he can never rest, because younger animals are constantly challenging him, wanting what he has. Can you think of anyone who might’ve challenged you before you lost your memories?”

  Janan closed his eyes. Being back in the villa summoned more of those snippets of images, but few of them seemed useful. Most were mundane things like a bowl of oranges or a pair of ruby cufflinks, but if he thought about any of them for more than a moment, his mind returned to the pair of burning eyes. He looked at Flicker and the way the light from the candles danced and distorted over the surface of his burnished irises. “I see your eyes,” he told the arafrit. “Whenever I think too long on any image, my thoughts always return to them—eyes full of fire, flames licking out from the corners.”

  Even through her makeup, Sehrish’s pallor showed. “Sir… are you sure you’re all right? These people… who—what even…?”

  Beneath Janan’s hand, Isra’s thigh tensed. Janan supposed his words had been close enough to an accusation to make the other man jump to his friend’s defense, and the last thing he wanted to do was put Isra in a position where he had to choose between them. Janan feared he’d lose that contest, but what if Flicker wasn’t the ally he seemed… at least to Janan? What could possibly motivate a being like him? He liked jewelry, treasure. For all Janan knew, maybe he was after the lucrative company and all its riches. But if so, why do so much to help Janan find his way back here?

  As the three of them watched, their apprehension almost palpable, Flicker threw his head back and laughed. He laughed until he was gasping for air, and when he caught his breath, he laughed some more. After a moment of panting and swiping the tears from his eyes, he said, “You really think I would cook up this convoluted scheme for… what? Some mortal structures that will fall to dust before anyone has time to grow attached to them? Your little kingdom of ditch-diggers and paper-pushers? What would I want with it?”

  Sehrish crossed her arms over her chest. “Our little kingdom is worth billions of dollars, and it is no secret.”

  Flicker waved his hand. “So what? It’s a watering hole, and in the blink of an eye, it’ll dry up and be forgotten. You think I’m going to circle around it, day after day, watching for the next stallion to challenge my claim? All that time and effort for a pit of muddy water?”

  “Someone would,” Isra said. “Maybe many people would. And one of them is very close to succeeding.”

  “And we cannot let that happen,” Sehrish said. “You might think of our company as a muddy hole, but it is sustaining thousands of families. It’s showing the world that an Arab businessman can work with an open mind. It’s giving women and people of other nationalities and faiths the chance to show people what we can do, that our talent has worth. That different people can work and live together. The sheikh has even funneled some of our profits into charitable work—homes for poor families, refugees, and even women fleeing from abusive marriages.”

  “Hmm.” Isra stroked his sparse beard as he stared into his soup. “It wouldn’t surprise me to learn there are some who don’t like that as much as you do. Many people fear changes in the world, especially threats to their status as the rulers of it.”

  “You’re right,” Flicker said. “No one at the top of the food chain wants competition. When someone is born into an advantage through no effort on their part, the last thing they want is to suddenly find themselves on equal footing with everyone else. If there’s one thing you mortals cling to, it’s the idea that you’re special.”

  With a scowl, Sehrish asked, “Mortals? Are you feeling all right?”

  “Never mind that.” Flicker tugged at one of the hoops in his earlobe. “You’re perceptive; I can see that you are. You recognize the logic in what I’m saying.”

  “It’s true that some of the shareholders resisted the sheikh’s changes, but most of them quieted down as soon as they saw their profits increa
sing. The sheikh’s views attracted foreign clients, and our stocks have been on the rise ever since he took the reins. Sure, some of the investors could not handle what they felt was an extreme position, but the money coming in assuaged most of the dissenters. Though….”

  “What?” Janan’s heart lurched into his throat, his favorite French foods turning to acid in his gut.

  Sehrish shook her head. “Your brother is fairly conservative. When your parents died, he argued against you taking your father’s place as head of the company. He felt your schooling abroad, your radical ideas, your… lifestyle—”

  “Lifestyle?”

  “You’ve never made a secret of being gay,” she said. “I think what irked Ma’shal more than anything is that so many of your associates didn’t care. He felt it should’ve automatically disqualified you for any leadership role because of the country’s laws against indecency, and he won some shareholders to his side, but not enough to make a difference. And when a man has as much money and power as you do, the authorities aren’t going to get involved. Egyptian law enforcement is nothing if not corrupt.”

  “You must be a brilliant businessman,” Isra said, “to inspire such loyalty.”

  “Well, the sheikh is an innovator,” Sehrish said. “A risk-taker, and certainly an eloquent speaker.”

  “But?” Flicker steepled his fingers in front of his face.

  She exhaled. “The truth is, ethics and philosophy have always been where your interests lie. The day-to-day operations didn’t interest you, and they weren’t your strong suit. Fortunately you knew who to delegate them to.”

  “You?” Janan asked.

  “No, sir. The mastermind behind much of the company’s growth is Nawra, your sister. Or she was.”

  “Not now?” Isra asked.

  Sehrish shook her head. “After Sheikh Mu’awiyah disappeared, Ma’shal was able to convince the board to grant him temporary control. He fired Nawra as COO and invoked his rights as her oldest male relative. He’s had her confined to the house on the coast near Safaga, leading everyone to believe your disappearance drove her to a nervous condition. He’s finding reasons to dismiss other female employees too—and anyone who doesn’t agree with him. That includes anyone who doesn’t follow his interpretation of the Quran. It’s infuriating! We made so much progress, and now to see it all moving in reverse…. Profits are slipping too. Investors are spooked by the drastic turn the company is taking, and they like stability. Even in this part of the world, few businesspeople want to be associated with extremists. The worst part is that none of it is genuine. He’s cloaking his greed in religion, like so many have done before him. Selfish fool.” She looked around the table with a forced smile. “But now you’re back, and you can take your rightful place as the leader of the company and your family. We can put all this nonsense behind us. We’ll need to do some damage control, but fortunately we have a quite effective PR department for just that purpose. Everything will be all right now, glory be to God.”

  Janan nodded slowly, trying to push down the panic rising in him at this overwhelming information. To be hit with so much in a few short days was almost more than he could handle, and to have so many people depending on him…. But he’d been right: he’d left something important unfinished, and now he needed to rectify that. Still, he smiled as he took Isra’s hand—on top of the table, where everyone could see. He’d been a good man, if a bit of a dreamer and idealist. He’d been honest about what was in his heart, had the courage to do so amidst opposition. He was someone Isra could be proud to be with, and Janan saw that pride shining back at him when their eyes met, brighter than Flicker’s fire. He could do this. If Isra stood beside him, he could do it—even if it would be easier to retreat to the desert and pretend he’d never set foot in this house. But no. He was not a coward. Isra wouldn’t have given his heart and his life to a coward.

  He took a deep breath to focus himself before speaking. “I would like to talk to my sister. I… need to see her face, find the place where she lives in my heart again. Then I will take my place at the head of the company, and I’ll see all of these policies meant to protect people are reinstated. But it sounds like we might have a fight on our hands. For that, I need to be armed. That means I need my wits and my memories back. I can’t face my enemies from inside this fog. I must find the person who cast this spell on me and force them to reverse it.”

  Sehrish rubbed her eyes with her thumb and finger, spreading gold dust across her forehead.

  Janan put his hand on her shoulder. “I know how this sounds, but you have to believe me. Someone used this curse to get me out of the way, and they’ll continue to use it to discredit me, show that I am unfit to lead the company.” He looked over at Flicker, still unsure whether to trust him. But who else would be able to dispel the magic? “This is an ancient and mysterious land. It is full of wonders, and out in the desert, I’ve seen them. If there’s one thing that’s become clear, it is that we, humankind, are as children to some of what exists here. It’s arrogance to believe we know everything or have control over anything.”

  When Janan met Flicker’s gaze, the arafrit looked surprised. And impressed.

  Janan stood, still holding Isra’s hand. He pulled Isra close and put an arm around his waist. “Because of this man, I made my way back here from begging on the streets, not even knowing my own name. If I can do that, I can make it the rest of the way. I will.” He grasped Sehrish’s hand. “And now I have you too.”

  “Don’t I get to be a part of the group hug?” Flicker asked.

  Janan considered him. He didn’t want to be the type of man who saw plots and ploys in others, whose first instinct was to mistrust. But he also didn’t want to be a fool, and it was difficult to reconcile the two sometimes. In the end, Isra trusted Flicker, and that decided it. Janan would trust him too. He let go of Sehrish’s hand and took Flicker’s, which felt like polished brass with the heat of the sun behind it. After forcing himself to hold Flicker’s gaze a moment, he nodded once and moved to the counter, where the fancy coffee machine sat.

  “What on earth are you doing, sir?” Sehrish asked.

  “We’re going to need our energy,” he told her. “We have plans to make, and I want to make them tonight. I won’t lose even one more minute of my life to whoever has done this to me.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  BEYOND THE window of the luxury SUV, the Gulf of Suez blurred by, a brilliant crystalline blue, especially against the muted red-brown of the desert opposite it. The day was clear and cool, and at some points, Isra could see the gentle hills on the other side of the water. Despite the air-conditioning, soft music, and buttery leather seats that ensconced him, Isra felt stifled. He’d much rather be on his camel or even on foot. But Janan wanted to move quickly, and Isra understood. So many people depended on him, and good man that he was, of course he couldn’t abandon them. Isra tried to ignore the implications of that on their future together, the fact that so many others now had claim to Janan. No matter what happened between them, they were doing the right thing.

  Flicker had offered to transport them, but Janan thought that might be too much for his assistant, and again, Isra couldn’t blame him. Still, he was glad to have his old friend along, sitting in the front seat next to Sehrish, who drove. Isra suspected the arafrit inflicted himself on the poor woman as either an annoyance or to make her question her assumptions of reality. Though he also seemed a little fond of her. Isra shook his head. Nothing would come of trying to divine Flicker’s intentions. Isra knew he would help if they needed it.

  He just wished Janan felt the same.

  Looking at the other man, who stared out the window, his fingers curled around his chin, the walking stick he’d found that first night in the desert and had been slowly adorning with carvings bumping between his knees, Isra wished he could help him shoulder his burden.

  At least he could help him find a way to break the spell. After they accomplished that, he expected he would b
e worse than useless to Janan—to Sheikh Mu’awiyah—in his life as an international businessman and social innovator.

  Sehrish had said the drive from Cairo to the resort community on the Oriental Coast, past Safaga, would take at least eight hours. They’d left after lunch and come about halfway, Isra guessed. Though his people rarely ventured this close to the Red Sea, he still knew exactly where they were and what lay nearby in every direction. The sun told him everything he needed to know.

  For the past few hours, they had seen little sign of human habitation, and Isra knew the land around the narrow road they traveled was mostly unoccupied between Cairo and the resorts to the south.

  After a little over four hours, Sehrish had to stop to answer nature’s call behind a stack of rocks. The men—besides Flicker—did the same on the other side of the road. Then the three of them drank some bottled water and ate the sandwiches and fruit Sehrish had packed in a cooler. She got back behind the wheel, saying, “We should reach your brother’s vacation home by evening. We’ll park at one of the unfinished houses, hide the car a few miles away. We might have to sneak in. I’ve heard rumors Ma’shal has her under guard. For her own protection, he claims.”

  “I can help with that,” Isra offered. “When I served my two years in the Army, I and the rest of the Bedouins had two main jobs: tracking and sneaking up on people. Even the seasoned soldiers couldn’t hear us coming or find us when we didn’t want to be found.” He didn’t add how much of a joke that had become among his people.

  “I’ve heard the same,” Sehrish said. “Your skills will be very helpful. That’s odd. It seems early to be getting dark, even in the winter.”

  “There’s a storm coming in from the east.” Janan pointed at the mass of roiling dark clouds speeding over the water toward them.

  Instinctively, Isra looked around for a cliff or a cave, before he remembered the vehicle would protect them from the elements. Still…. “It’s very unusual for a storm to crop up this time of year.” He looked at the wide tongues of lightning striking the rocky ground. “Especially a thunderstorm.”