“No. I will not permit this. Your reasoning is not compelling enough for my taste and besides we’ve only just—”
“I’m sorry, Eli. I know you are the Omari and I should obey your every command and all, but you must trust me this one time.”
She watched as Eli drew in a deep breath as if searching for something that might stop her from going through with her scheme. “Something could go wrong.”
“Nothing will go wrong. I got here in one piece didn’t I? Even with Ageit’s artifacts askew, the doorway worked just fine. I
must
do this, Eli.” Jade observed his hands flex into fists. She knew he yet searched for a way to make her stay, but before that could happen, she turned to Ageit. “Please show me the doorway.”
She watched Ageit look to Eli for permission, but Eli stood glaring at Ageit. When the Omari finally nodded in permission, Jade’s shoulders relaxed in relief. Ageit turned back to Jade. “I’ll go and prepare the doorway,” he said and ducked into the next room.
“Eli, I can feel your apprehension, but be assured—”
“I suppose this changes everything, doesn’t it?” He gave her a tight, close-lipped smile.
“Truly, you have no reason to—”
“Don’t. There is no need to placate me. Had I been in your situation, I might have opted to return home as well.”
“I—” She swallowed the emotional lump in her throat. “I’m not really going home to stay. I’m just—” She looked into his angry eyes, unable to finish her statement.
Eli sighed and dragged his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, Jade. I have no right to tell you what to do. If this is your decision, and you think we can’t defend ourselves, then so be it.”
“I never said I didn’t love you, you know.”
He rose. “I know.”
An iron band wrapped itself around her heart. “I have to do this. Please understand—”
“It is not for me to understand, it is only for me to accept.”
She stepped toward him, but it was too late. He folded his arms across his chest, effectively shutting her out. She barely quelled the wave of emotions that threatened to overcome her.
Ageit came back into the room. “All right. Let’s get you back home.”
Not trusting her voice, her gaze was drawn to Eli’s face. “I do love you.”
A swift nod accompanied his words. “And I you.”
Gads, but his was practically unbearable. He’d seen her cry a few times since they’d met, but she didn’t want him to see her weep over a decision she’d made by her own will.
Jade turned her back to Eli. “I’m ready, Ageit,” her statement barely audible.
“Very well. Through here, then.”
She followed Ageit into the next room, but just before she stepped over the threshold, she glanced back to see Eli’s retreat through the entrance of the tent.
She’d made her choice, and now there was nothing to be done about it. The thought flashed through her mind… What if something did go wrong? Shaking off the foreboding feeling, she stepped over to where Ageit stood straightening the mate of a pair of four foot tall obelisk pillars by the light of a single oil lamp.
“Have you both wrist cuffs on, my dear?”
“I do.” She pushed her sleeves to her elbows and held up her wrists.
“Oh, that will never do. They are on backwards. The Planetairians said
never
to pass through the doorway unless they were on correctly.”
Holding out her hands to Ageit, he readjusted her bracelets with the seam to the front. Jade froze for a moment. Should she tell him she’d originally gone through the doorway with the bracelets on backwards?
“There we are. Ready?”
No. She’d let her mistake lie. For now. She nodded.
“I’m rather excited. I’ve only ever gone through this doorway alone, I’ve never had a companion to share the experience with.”
Jade gave him a faint smile.
“I’ll go through first, and then you follow.” He leaned over, took up the oil lamp, stepped through the pillars and he and the light disappeared.
Taking a deep breath, Jade followed Ageit.
Chapter Twelve
Jade exhaled. She was home.
She needed to find Dr. Harper right away so that he could help disassemble the doorway from this side after she stepped back through, but instead found Ageit leaning over the table in the temple room. “Curious,” he murmured loud enough for her to hear.
Wishing to see what he observed, she stepped up next to him. “What is?”
“Well, I know the reason for the missing arm braces, you have those on, but I don’t remember leaving this item.”
Laying upon the table was a folded piece of paper. She reached for it, but he stopped her. “Be careful, my dear. This paper looks very fragile. Quite old in fact.”
“How do you know? How can you tell just by looking at it?”
“Well, look at the edges. They aren’t straight like a new piece of parchment. It seems moisture has seeped into its fibers—you can tell by the rippling. And if you look very close, you can see a layer of dust covering the paper. In fact, it coats the entire table.”
She blinked a few times as if to clear her sight. Leaning as close as she dared to the paper, she confirmed his findings. “Hm. A sand storm must have blown in from the entrance—that may be the reason for the layer of dust.” Carefully, she removed the bracelets and set them upon the table. Entering the corridor, she placed her hand upon the wall to help find her way in the dark. A flash of panic seized her. The corridor ended not two feet from the temple room. Feeling around where the door should have been she called out. “Could you please bring the lamp over her for just a moment, Ageit?”
In seconds he was there, his lamp illuminating a sealed up entrance.
“What in the world?” She made a fist and began pounding upon the wall which seemed an easy mud-brick and mortar barrier to bust through.
“Wait. We should investigate before we go breaking down doors.”
“Oh, of course. You are correct. I’m sorry. My archeologist father should be spinning in his grave right about now.” She knew she shouldn’t be speaking of the dead in such a manner, but after all she’d been through, she figured the levity of comedy might ease her a bit.
Ageit set the lamp behind them on the floor, and both of them placed their hands on the wall.
“It is so cold.” Ageit commented in wonder. “I don’t recall, in the hours I’ve spent in this room, the temperature being cold.”
“Neither do I,” she said, recalling the heat of the desert as she approached the dig not a week ago. Jade then pressed her ear to the sealed off entryway. “Oh, my. The wind is howling like a banshee outside—worse than any storm, rain or snow, I’ve experienced—even in Chicago. Something is out of whack.” She watched as Ageit listened for a few moments. “The note! It might tell us something. Come on.” She retrieved the lamp from the floor with Ageit at her heels.
Handing the lamp to Ageit, she reached for the paper.
“Careful,” Ageit warned.
Jade nodded and, as if unwrapping a mummy, she cautiously unfolded the paper.
* * * *
Elydian felt more alone now than as if he’d been by himself in the middle of the Oasis. It had stung his pride that she thought Eden was susceptible to an invasion, but shoving all that aside, he knew Jade wouldn’t be coming back; he could feel it in his aching heart. He shuffled back to his tent, pushed through the entrance and headed straight for his retiring room. Plopping down onto a pile of pillows, he took a deep breath through his nose. Jade’s scent still lingered. It was on the pillows, in the walls of the tent, in the very air.
His favorite pair of eyes, which outshined any view of the moons, was gone from his life for good. Next year, when the second moon’s orbit deviated from its path, and the Omari-Nah Competition commenced, he’s sit in his tent and mourn instead of celebrate.
Already he missed her odd sense of humor, her impertinence, and the strange things she said. It was as if she’d been gone for a full cycle of moons instead of the length of a meal, his heart squeezed tight within his chest.
Falk
.
This was going to be the death of him. He dragged his fingers through his hair, groaned, and let his body fall back onto the cushions.
As distraught as he felt, he wouldn’t allow himself to neglect his duties for long. The people depended upon him and he refused to let them down.
The first thing on his list, an item which he dreaded, would be to replace Havliah. Elydian sighed. The screening process between an unmarried Omari and a potential Lambish was too intimate. Before he’d met Jade, he would have had no problem coupling with a woman for reasons of need or as his duty to the men of Omari Amun dictated. Now he didn’t want to be with anyone but her—his soft, curvy Jade.
He remembered the odd feeling he got when she told him she wasn’t from Eden; it only caused him to hesitate for a moment. But he could sense in her the uncomfortable stiffness of someone who wanted out. And now she was gone. Not just across the camp, not even temporarily away for a shopping trip to Anuk-die, but
gone
—to her home planet. And he was certain that too many reasons stood in the way of her returning to him. He couldn’t dwell upon this circumstance now, he needed to dream away his pain. The obliteration of sleep was all he had left.
Beneath his hand Elydian felt the blanket he’d covered Jade with before the feast. He rolled over, pulling it along with him. Inhaling Jade’s essence, he hugged the softness to his chest.
* * * *
“Dearest Jade Anne,” she read aloud. “I have been looking for you for six months now. I have no idea where you’ve gone, and it seems no one saw you leave the camp. After you went missing, I thought perhaps your journal entry would provide some sort of hint as to where you disappeared to. When I presented your findings to the team, they assumed you’d given up and left. But without word? I told them they were mad. A week later, I was the only one left in the camp. I waited for you, my dear, I searched the entire region. I even went to Carter’s dig and gave them a description of you, but to no avail. I sealed up this room in yours and your father’s memory. If you should return to us, please try and find me at my home address in the U.S. Anticipating your return, Dr. Edward Harper.”
The fact that she’d inflicted so much pain on Dr. Harper tied her stomach in knots. “Ageit,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. “How old do you think this paper is?” She handed it to him.
Careful not to touch the writing, he gingerly flipped it back and forth. “I’d say about a thousand years or so.”
She swallowed. “I have been gone for just over a week. How in the hell did a thousand years pass in a bloody week?” Panic rose to her throat.
Ageit was quiet for a few moments when he placed his hand upon her shoulder. “I have only one hypothesis for you. Remember right before we stepped through the doorway and you had your bracers on backwards?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“And remember what I told you about what the Planetarians said, that the bracers
must
be on correctly?”