AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘You are welcome, Sam.’
She turned her shoulder to him.
‘But why do you call Edge Geb, Sheikh al-Walid?’
‘Ah, yes. The name was given him by the tribe that tried to capture him and your brothers at Senusret’s temple. It is told that at the peak of the battle the god Geb appeared on the temple roof in the form of a statue with emeralds for eyes and brought with him a great sandstorm, whipping the very earth from under them. We came across them riding away from this apparition and they warned us not to risk our souls by proceeding and angering Geb.’
‘But that could not possibly have been Edge,’ Sam said primly. ‘He does not approve of climbing on the antiquities. Do you, Lord Edward?’
‘Under normal circumstances I do not. I was merely trying to assess how many men we were facing and whether they were trying to outflank us. I believe self-preservation justifies my actions rather more than your habit of using antiquities as a painting perch.’ His voice was pure Edge, but his mouth was relaxed and indulgent.
‘Of course it does, oh, mighty Geb,’ she replied. ‘I’m certain you always have a reasonable excuse for breaking your own rules.’
‘Not always, Sam.’ His eyes narrowed into the jewelled slits that had helped send the Bedawi warriors into flight. She felt it, too, the quivering of the earth beneath her, as if a herd of horses burst suddenly from their pen. He might not have been referring to that moment eight years ago when he kissed her back, if such a brief response could have been called a kiss, but the memory rose as clear as yesterday, erasing the chasm of time between them.
The wind picked up, her hair snaking about her face and neck. She brushed it back, but her hands felt clumsy, twice their size and filled with sand.
‘Shu is hard at work,’ said al-Walid. ‘Perhaps he feels he must intercede more forcefully than usual. Insha’alla tomorrow brings good news, Geb. Rest well, Najimat al-Layl.’
He wandered off and Sam was immediately aware of the silence. It wasn’t soundless, but filled with the threshing of the palms and the huffs of animals further away. But it was still a silence that wrapped around them like the emptiness of a great ocean. Edge was staring into the darkness, his sharp-cut profile gilded by the last glimmers of the campfire. Above them the stars were growing, multiplying, gathering into a lacy ribbon arced across the sky. Even in Qetara she had never seen so many or so clearly.
‘We are lucky there is no moon. It is rare to see such an abundance of stars,’ Edge said in reflection of her thoughts and she shivered. ‘Are you cold?’
‘No, not at all. It’s the...weight of them. I could never paint this in a million years.’
He nodded and stood and she felt a burst of pain, like a surprise blow to her chest. She didn’t want to retire yet.
‘Come. There is still too much light and noise here,’ he said, holding out his hand.
Come?
Without asking he helped her to her feet and led her past the well.
‘Edge. The house is over there.’
‘In a moment. You should see this. Even in the desert a night like this is rare.’
Within moments the remnants of sound and light from the encampment fell away. The ground was hard and pebbled and at first Sam stumbled a little on the uneven earth, but Edge held her arm firmly but without pressure. He seemed to know precisely where he was going though there was nothing to see but the faint milky surface of the ground.
The further they walked, the less her eyes strained to see. The ground became luminescent, a cream swathe of silk pockmarked by the indigo shadows cast by each pebble and rock. Above them the sky was everything, a massive dome hung with a myriad of silvery eyes, blinking or staring but strangely still. Sam didn’t even notice they’d stopped. She was reduced to nothing but an awareness of being both insignificant and part of everything. The fabric of space was breathing with her, in and out, shimmering and dancing through her.
‘I’m breathing stars...’ she whispered. ‘I’m swimming in them.’
‘Don’t swim away. I’ll never find you in this infinity.’ His voice was low and rough as the ground beneath them. ‘If you walk twenty yards in the wrong direction, you will be lost and might never find your way back.’
Sam turned. Very faint in the distance behind them was the pale glow of what could be the village, but other than that there was no sign of life, of anything. She looked up at the darkness that was Edge. Even this close he was nothing but a monolithic form with faint outlines of the same silky cream as the ground, as if he’d been transformed into a statue of obsidian and alabaster—hard and soft. Pared down to his truth.
