Maia brought Lucy to a man, tall, dark and extremely handsome, who stood back watching them.
“Lucy, I’d like you to meet Mohammed.”
Lucy eyed him suspiciously but shook his hand. He returned her suspicious look.
“Mohammed.” Lucy said shortly.
“Welcome to my home.” Mohammed said politely but with a definite chill to his almost perfect English.
“You speak English well.”
Again the slight curl of his lips. “As do you. It must be something to do with us both being educated in the West.”
Maia laughed uncomfortably. “Lucy, Mohammed has worked and studied in England—King Razeen’s grandfather established scholarships to promising Bedouin children—but Mohammed decided to return to his country to help his family and his people.”
“Please, come and be seated, my father wishes to begin.”
Lucy exchanged a quick look with Maia who was seated demurely next to her. Neither spoke as the formalities were exchanged between the Bedouin sheikh and Razeen. But Lucy felt Maia’s hand enclose her fist and squeeze it.
After the formalities were over, the feasting began and the men’s talk centered on politics and the economy leaving Lucy and Maia to talk uninterrupted. As soon as they could, they excused themselves and Maia showed Lucy around the caves.
Inside were a series of rooms connected by narrow passageways leading further back into the mountain. It was cool and comfortable and surprisingly luxuriously furnished. Maia took her further back until they were in a huge cavernous space. “This is where the people would come when they were under attack. There were stone doors that slid into position and couldn’t be seen from the outside. Obviously they’ve been removed now for safety reasons—”
“Maia, stop. What the hell are you doing here? Tell me truthfully.”
Maia awkwardly brushed her hand across the solid walls. “Mohammed, the way of life, the caves. Lucy, I’ve never felt so happy, so secure, so loved, in all my life.”
The comment cut through Lucy like a knife. Her sister was happy here, in the middle of nowhere? “Is it the security, then, that makes you so happy?”
“That’s part of it. It comes, not just from Mohammed, but also from this place. He makes me feel so different about myself. It’s like I have nothing to prove, nothing to struggle for, to fight for. I can just be myself and be treasured because of that.”
Despite herself, Lucy couldn’t help be moved by the far-away look shining in Maia’s eyes. But the stronger the light shone, the deeper her fears grew. “Sounds wonderful.”
“It is.”
Lucy took a deep breath, fixed a polite smile on her face and looked around, trying to hide her own fear.
“Razeen needs to leave tomorrow morning early if we’re to get back to Sitra by nightfall. Are you coming, Maia?” She knew the answer but she had to ask the question anyway.
Maia shook her head, her eyes full of love and sympathy. She took hold of Lucy’s hand. “Mohammed was worried you’d persuade me to leave. That’s why he was so defensive. But he has no reason to worry because I can’t leave. You must understand, Lucy. I’ve found a life here I never thought I’d have. I love Mohammed, so much.”
“Lucy opened her mouth to speak the words of sadness and loss that filled her but she swallowed instead and drew Maia to her and held her tight. “I'm happy that you're happy.”
Maia drew back and cupped Lucy’s tense face. “Oh, Luce! That means so much. And, just because I choose to live here doesn’t mean I won’t travel, that I won’t see you. I’ve earned enough money over the past few years to fund, not only what I need to do here, but trips to see you. But not for a while.”
There was something in Maia’s voice that made her frown. “How long a while?”
Maia slid her hands down to her stomach, her fingers fanning out over it. “At least six months. I’m pregnant.”
“Pregnant.” The word was barely uttered. It fell from Lucy’s lips like a lead weight, stirring as it did an unfathomable pain that Lucy had spent the last eight years trying to suppress. She hadn’t known it was still there. “You want children after all we said, after all that happened? Look at the spectacular mess our parents made of it.” She swallowed the bile that threatened to rise. She had to say it. “Look what happened to me when—”
Maia pressed her fingers against Lucy’s lips. “Don’t say it. You don’t need to go there.”
Lucy gulped down a lungful of hot, dry air, willing the hurt of her past to recede. “What about all our dreams of escape?”