Lucy and the Sheikh(39)

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 sheikh 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.”

“And they might have done if you’d replied to your posts, if you’d been where you’d said you were. I went and checked. God, Maia, I thought you’d been abducted or something. I thought—”

“Lucy thought I’d abducted you,” Razeen interrupted. “But you’re well, Maia?”

“Of course.” Maia smiled at Razeen. “I last saw you at the airport when you kindly arranged for one of your staff to show us around. You probably weren't even informed we went to the Lodge. But it was there I met Mohammed.” She paused looking from one to the other. “Thank you, Razeen—Your Majesty—for bringing Lucy to me.”

Razeen smiled at Lucy. “It’s been my pleasure.”

Maia’s gaze first rested on Razeen, then Lucy. “How did you meet?”

Razeen didn’t move his eyes from Lucy. “She emerged from the water one night, like a water sprite. I think she’s not comfortable anywhere other than the sea.”

Maia laughed. “She was always that way. Even in winter, she’d swim in the sea.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow. “If you two have quite finished talking about me, perhaps we could get to the real issue of how long you intend to stay in this place.”

Maia smiled thoughtfully. “That, Luce, is complicated. Come and eat with us. The women are busy preparing food.”

“But—”

“Luce, the village will be expecting it.”

Razeen nodded in agreement and returned to the sheikh of the local tribe who was waiting for him. Maia fixed her scarf back over her face, linked arms with Lucy and they walked up steps to a wide, deep terrace that was obviously used for entertaining guests. The basic furniture was hewn out of the rock. At its centre was a large round table around which colorful woven cushions were strewn. To one side, stone benches were covered with dishes being brought out from the caves. A watercourse from the oasis had been diverted to water the well-established vines that climbed up and over the top of the terrace, their leaves fluttering in the breeze. The air was fragrant with spices—some of which Lucy recognized from her visit to the market—and freshly baked bread.