Page 34

Swim Lessons

Rumi

They traveled for well over an hour, with Callum scanning the ground and horizon for signs they were going in the right direction.

He had put her down shortly after their escape from the enormous snapper, and she had been walking on tired legs ever since.

Not that she would admit it.

Not after he saved her life for the third time.

The sun now hung lower in the sky, signaling that evening would fall soon enough.

But in the meantime, the wind offered little solace from the overbearing heat.

They had hoped to travel along the shade granted by the cliffside on the way to the town, but the wild desert carnivores made that impossible, so now they seemed to be wandering—almost aimlessly, it seemed to her—through the red-hued desert.

She looked up from watching her feet, expecting to see the same reddish color dominating her vision.

Instead, she rubbed her eyes.

Surely, she was dreaming, or perhaps exhaustion was playing tricks on her mind. When she looked again, it was still there. Green in the distance. Just a smudge, barely there, but there all the same.

“Callum,”

she hissed from a parched throat.

“Callum, there—do you see it?”

Rumi pointed, watching his face as he squinted, blinked, and squinted again.

He sighed, continuing to plod along.

“I don’t see anything out there.

Maybe you have magic vision, too.”

She did not respond, mainly since it seemed like she lost so much water every time she opened her mouth.

But after about a minute, Callum stopped, squinting into the distance.

She looked in that direction, too: small trees with foliage and grass and shrubs that kissed the sands with verdant fingers.

“Well, I’ll be.

It looks to be an oasis, Miss Rumi,”

he replied, hastening his gait, the promise of shade and moisture tugging them by an invisible rope.

“Magic eyes, indeed.”

The stretch of green seemed vast after so long of a horizon of dusty sand and rock.

Rumi nearly fell in her mad dash toward the oasis.

It had been far too long since she had seen this much water in one place and her very bones ached to dive in.

It looked deep enough to swim.

Rumi did not hesitate as she ran recklessly, kicking up dust with her bare feet until they reached the cool sand that hugged the water’s edge.

Then she knelt and dipped her entire head in the refreshing water.

When she popped up and tossed her hair back, sending diamond shards of water flinging through the air, she looked back to see Callum paused and chewing on his cheek.

“What is wrong?”

“It looks…a little cold,”

he replied lamely, eyeing the water warily and stepping into the shade of one of the small trees.

“Come on, Colonel.

The gods have blessed us.”

“Which gods?”

he asked, taking a step closer, his eyebrow raised.

“Hmm,”

she tapped her chin, pretending to think.

“I would say Kaelthor, for surely if he wished us to be dead, we would be long ago in his embrace.”

He did not reply, only glanced around as if checking for anyone watching.

Ignoring him, she dove headfirst into the little lake, bubbles tickling her skin like a million kisses.

Her head popped up a moment later, a big grin on her face reflecting her elation in the bright sunlight.

“I think the sun may have dried up your brains. Get in!”

“You’re gonna freeze if you stay in there much longer, you know.”

His grumbling would not deter her.

She splashed at him.

“It is perfectly safe! How can you resist this?”

Playfully, she swiped the water up at him again.

“Come! The magic has likely long soaked through the sand.”

Callum brushed the errant droplet off his cheek.

He strode toward the shore with a heavy sigh and kicked off his boots.

She gave him a victorious grin.

He ignored her as he unbuckled his belt and wrapped it around the holster, then placed the package beside her discarded wrapping.

He stepped up to the water’s edge, tore off his socks, and tossed them over his shoulder before wading into the lake.

When the water covered his knees, he sat down, soaking his sleeves in the lake. She spied his sigh of relief. Though she knew he would deny it, he was clearly enjoying the soak.

“Happy?” he asked.

A satisfied chuckle broke past her lips and rings of water rippled toward him as Rumi swam closer.

As she drew nearer she sank further leaving only her nose and eyes above the water.

She wiggled her eyebrows at him tauntingly—he rolled his eyes.

Stubborn ox.

She would not let the colonel ruin her fun.

She felt like a mystical mermaid with tendrils of dark curls drifting around her shoulders like seaweed.

She twirled in the water, letting every inch of her body soak in this bliss.

The cool water quenched her skin and soothed her aching flesh.

After so many days in this godsforsaken land, it felt unreal.

She tutted at him, stunned that he would turn his nose up at such an opportunity.

“I’m not going in any further.”

His tone was gruff.

She tipped her head slightly and raised an eyebrow, declaring him a coward with a dare in her eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,”

he huffed.

She popped up slightly and shot a clean arc of water from her lips that spattered on the top of his head.

“You are too serious,”

she scolded, then laughed when the water dripped over his nose onto his scowl.

She threw herself backward, diving into the water, uncaring that it would splash over him.

She cut through the water, relishing the weightless, calm, sweet respite after too long in the sun.

Never again would she take water for granted.

“Rumi?”

The sound was garbled by the water, she ignored it until he called again.

“Rumi, where are you?”

With a gasp for air, she popped up near the far edge of the lake.

“Here!”

She called before ducking back under.

When she surfaced again, she faced the sky and gently floated on her back with lazy arm strokes fluttering softly from her head to her hips, bobbing through the water like the tadpoles in her ponds back home.

The pulse of water rising against her indicated when he waded deeper into the water.

A few glances tossed his way during her laps around the pond captured him waist-deep in the cool water, his hands out to his sides, brushing its surface.

They had both needed time to rest their muscles.

“Do you not love how the ground turns mushy under your toes?”

she asked, drifting across the surface.

It reminded her of home and the early mornings spent creeping with the fog to the water’s edge.

“How’re you doing that?”

“Doing what?”

Floating closer to him, she looked at him upside down.

***

She stood, dripping before him, and scooped her hair away from her face, tossing it to her back.

The shirt and pants she had borrowed were too large.

If they were not clinging to her body, they were hanging heavy in the water.

A button on the bottom of the now faded shirt was missing and there were holes in the pants, but she did not mind.

They had been given in kindness and had protected her from the harsh sun.

When she had some time, she would weave herself new garments, until then…she wrung them out so they were not as heavy.

Callum had not replied.

He stood stiffly, too stiffly, in the pool.

His face and neck were red—more than could be attributed to the sun.

Suddenly, her understanding twisted into a sly grin.

“Why, Callum.

Colonel Callum, sir, do you not know how to swim?”

She poked his ribs, earning a grunt, and his “sunburn”

deepened a shade.

“You sound surprised.”

He was avoiding her eyes, his head turned to the side in embarrassment.

Her lips pinched together as she tried to stop herself from smiling, failing when she bobbed in front of him, moving so no matter how he turned, she was there.

His stern expression faded to amusement and the slightest glimmer of a smile teased the corner of his mouth.

“Only a little.

‘Mr.

I Can Survive Anything’ can not swim…it seems a bit…you know…”

she trailed off, unable to contain herself any longer.

“Why can you not swim?”

“And how, pray tell, Miss Rumi, would I have learned? It isn’t as if we have lakes like these in abundance in the desert.”

She hummed to herself before giving a grand twirl.

“Well, Colonel, I can teach you.”

She looked over her shoulder at him, adding softly, “Only if you would like.”

She was surprised by his eventual nod.

Even more taken aback by the way he watched her, intent and…warm? She bowed her head humbly, earning another grumble.

“Your first swimming lesson, Colonel, I am honored.”

“Let’s not make a big deal of this, Twiggy.”

She had him sink further into the water.

Her hands floated over his shoulders as she stepped closer, skimming over his shirt as if he were a skittish animal.

“Here, lean into the water and arch your back a little.

Fill your lungs with air and just relax.

I will be right here beside you.

Do you trust me?”

He raised an eyebrow, “Should I? Perhaps this is how you’d free yourself from your sentence, by murdering your captor.”

“I am not going to drown you,”

she replied lightly.

“Surely, if I wished to kill you, I could have done so many times over.

But the simple truth is, my people are not killers no matter what you might think.”

Rumi placed one hand behind his neck and the other on his chest.

“Keep your chest facing the sky, and your head tilted back slightly.

Now relax.

Trust the water to hold you.”

She moved around to his head as he lay back in the water, her right hand never leaving the back of his neck.

Her other fingers trailed along his chest and over his shoulder before sliding under his back.

“This is the first thing they teach us.

How to float.

If you are ever in trouble and cannot swim or are in too deep, just float and rest until you can swim.”

She smiled warmly down at him, his eyes squinting under the shadow of her head, blocking the setting sun.

“You are doing very well.”

“You must be a good teacher,”

he said, the slight tremor in his voice the only sign that he was nervous.

“This is you.

I am hardly doing anything.”

She walked backward further into the lake, her hands just barely lifting him beneath his shoulder blades.

“Let me know when you are ready for me to remove my hands.”

“You want me to tell you to stop touching me?”

His look was anything but bashful and it sent a spiral of heat through her sternum.

“I think I’ll say nah.”

He was teasing.

She knew it.

But, the look in his eyes spoke of something more.

A strange foreboding needled her belly, and her legs tingled with the need to run, though she sensed no true danger.

Her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip.

“Maybe we should go back to shore and dry off before dark.

Have some dinner and sleep.

At least now your stink is gone.”

Her eyes turned toward where the sun was making its way lazily toward the horizon.

Rumi wanted so badly to be bold, yet she found her anxiousness growing as the light faded.

She wanted to believe the pain that happened here had no consequence to her once she returned home.

She feared she was wrong.

“I didn’t stink.”

“I spent a large portion of time bent over your shoulder with my face near your armpits.

I think I know whether you stink or not.”

“Tha—”

He turned his head to object, offsetting his balance and plunging him into the water.

He gasped, sputtering and floundering until he got his feet under him, her arms assisting his balance.

He cursed and coughed, but soon was standing in the shallow water and towering over her like nothing had happened.

Her hands never left him.

“Can you teach me to move in the water like you do? Swimmin’.”

He looked down at her so earnestly, almost innocently.

She cleared her throat, her hands lingering on his chest, not wanting to break the connection between them.

“I—uh…”

she pulled away and tucked her hands beneath her chin.

“To swim you must hold your breath and kick your feet in alternating patterns,”

she avoided his eyes, “and your arms scoop the water in front of you away, propelling you forward like a wheel.”

Then she ducked under the water, her silky strands of hair sliding through his hands as he half-heartedly tried to stay close to her when she darted away.

She popped up a ways away and spun back around to keep him in view.

His grin faded to a wistful twitch of his lips as he took a deep breath and dropped himself chest-first into the lake.

He splashed his arms on the surface, first the right then the left, tossing water gracelessly behind him.

She held in a giggle as she spotted his toes fluttering just above the water, sending little droplets like crystals into the air.

She chewed her lips as his feet sank and disappeared.

Seeing the oh-so-capable Callum fumbling so badly, spinning swirls of mud around himself in the tranquil lake, had her covering a smile with her hand.

He began coughing and turned upright, then dropped beneath the water.

The surface churned with his movement, and his head reappeared several feet away as a barking cough split the lavender sky like a piercershot.

Her smile faltered.

Rumi was there in an instant, her arms lifting him again by his armpits.

Ugh, he weighed as much as an ox.

“You big oaf,”

she groaned, hugging him to her chest and paddling toward the shore.

Thankfully, he had the presence of mind to not panic and try to shove her underwater to get afloat, and Rumi was a skilled swimmer, so the going was slow but steady.“Maybe we should save swimming until later, yes?”

She panted as the shore approached.

He continued to cough, but nodded.

When her feet touched the sand, she practically dragged him out of the water, his buoyancy giving her the strength to pull him.

“Get the floating down first.

Then the other.

I should have insisted on that.”

Embarrassment colored her tone.

His coughing mixed with wheezing laughter, the heat on his face creeping over his ears and neck.

“You make it look so easy!”

He chuckled and it turned into more coughing.

“That is because I am Arryvian,”

she reminded him.

“Are you well?”

She was smiling, but even she could hear the concern in her voice as she wiped hair from his forehead.

“I’m fine,”

he assured her, his words interrupted by a deep barking cough.

“Just provin’ I can’t breathe water.”

“You must be stronger than the water.

Half of it is believing you can do it.

The other is practice.”

Heat again crept up her ears as she shrugged and crossed her arms.

“I am not a very good teacher.

It came naturally to me, swimming, so I am not sure how to teach it.

We can try again tomorrow after you rest.”

Worry still gnawed at her chest and she observed him intently, as if he would drown any moment, assuring herself that it was impossible now that they were on the shore, even if his ankles were still submerged.

“The water didn’t fight fair,”

he stated.

“It dodges and weaves, then doles out a sucker-punch, right into my lungs.”

He tipped his head, “Let’s try again now. Please?”

She blew out a stream of air, but nodded.

“You are more stubborn than the oxen we use to farm.”

She stood up straight, water licking lazily around her ankles, and began instructing in earnest.

It felt good to have him listen to her.

To be seen.

To know something he did not.

“Your arms move like this.”

She demonstrated the wide sweeping arcs with her arms by her ears as if she were pushing the water down.

“Then, every so often when this arm is up, you turn your head and take a big gulp of air.”

She showed him the motion a couple of times.

“Keep your stomach tight and the kicking of your legs controlled.”

A glance down at his legs, the hard, corded muscle straining against his wet pants had a blush so red stinging her cheeks she might have glowed.

She was grateful for the growing darkness to hide her embarrassment.

“Your whole leg moves up and down, but strong and controlled.”

She smiled and then told him of another way.

“This one involves rolling your body through the water.

It is good for diving but not for breathing.”

“Then, if all else fails, just fill your lungs, stay calm, and float on your back.

While you are on your back, you can do the same arm movements from before, in reverse, to get to shore.

Just cup your hands like paddles and scoop the water away from the direction you would like to go.”

She eased backward into the water to demonstrate the hand movements, swirling the water around her.

“Turn my head to breathe? Somehow, I missed that before,”

he chuckled as he followed her in deeper.

“And stomach tight, I didn’t do that.”

Callum mirrored her movements, his arms rotating and hands cupped.

After a few rotations, he included turning his head to mimic taking a breath.

“Now, add the rest.

Show me the back float.”

Callum slowly leaned back and let the water catch him.

The top of his head brushed her waist.

Though the sun had set, and the night grew colder, she was still warm all over.

Her fingers brushed over his chest at the top of his sternum as she returned to the original position she had begun the lessons in.

“Like I showed you before, keep this—”

Here she put the gentlest of pressure on his chest.

“—pointed skyward and your head tilted back slightly.”

She placed a hand on either side of his face and tilted his head.

“For this one you need to keep your body stiff, but also relaxed.

I do not know how to explain it.”

Rumi walked backward further into the lake and arched her back, pushing off the sandy floor in a graceful motion, imagining herself shooting like a moonlit arrow through the water.

She floated for a moment, demonstrating like before, her arm gliding back in a mirror of the first swim.

It was like a dance, she thought, though that description might not help her rough and rigid student.

She spun herself around and little bubbles swirled and shimmered where her feet fluttered below the surface.

Then she folded and sat upright to face him, treading water with ease.

“Your turn.

I will catch you if you start to go under.”

He strode in after her, leaning into the water as if he were settling into a bed.

“You’re probably gonna tell me to keep my butt tight so I don’t sink again.

No pinchin’ my rear.”

She snorted.

“I will not pinch your bottom.”

Dipping beneath until only her eyes remained visible, she watched and waited like a hunter.

This time, Cal moved confidently through the water.

Too confidently, in fact, as his arm cut the water with perfect technique and his legs did little-to-nothing, causing him to sink almost instantly.

He resurfaced a moment later, sputtering, and Rumi could not contain a peal of laughter before she covered her merriment.

“That was um, nearly it,”

she said, another giggle threatening to escape as she spoke.

“As graceful as a rock,”

he said once his breath came to him, but his tone spoke of his amusement.

They practiced together for a time, each earning smiles and laughs from the other.

***

Though pruney, both were loath to leave the water, keeping their bare feet submerged.

They watched the moon crest over the crimson dunes and plateaus painting the landscape silver, sitting on the damp beach.

Though it had begun to wane, it was still bright.

After a time of quiet, just listening to the music of the desert, Callum broke the silence.

“Is swimming like dancing? I bet you’d be a good dancer.

The way you move—do your tree folk have dances?”

“It is a little like dancing,”

she replied, delighted that he had made the connection on his own, “but without a partner.

Dancing and singing are as natural as breathing and swimming for me.”

“That so?”

He tipped his head, mirroring hers.

“Dance with me then? Right here, right now?”

“Do you not think it indecent?”

she whispered like a secret, instinctively moving slightly away, her heart tittering at the thought.

“Dancing? Nah, that isn’t indecent, least not the way I’ll be dancing.

Don’t worry, I’m not about to steal you away from your beau.”

But the wicked grin seemed to belie his words.

“You already did,”

she reminded him.

Though the words were barbed, she had intended them to sting, not wound.

But he held out his hand, unbothered by her sharp comment.

She hesitated while her heart skipped a moment before she said, “Okay.”

She stood shyly, her eyes downcast to watch rivulets of water trailing like paths of silver carving down her legs, puddling at her feet, and disappearing into the lake.

She crossed and uncrossed her arms nervously as he rose.

This felt different than inviting him to dance in the rain.

This was…what was this?

She hated how her heart seemed to rattle in her ribs when he stepped closer, the water rippling outward from him.

“Do you have a dance in mind? Maybe a favorite?”

He grinned and extended his hand further to her.

“Or would you rather I choose?”

“You choose.”

She did not want to admit she knew very few Yetoben dances, and her people’s were…different.

She had seen human couples dancing before, spinning around each other in a loose hug, but she did not know those steps.

The fingers that slid into his trembled slightly, but she would not let it show on her face.

Why did his touch seem so…safe and natural and…vexing?

Callum talked her through the simple steps as they moved away from the water and toward solid land, the toe-touches and turns and spins.

He closed his eyes and hummed through the first set then winked at her.

“Ready?”

Her damp hair swished around her face as she followed the steps he taught her, laughing as he grabbed her hand and spun her underneath his arm.

Her feet kicked up sand that stuck to their wet pant legs.

The only sounds in the vast desert were his humming and her laughter.

They went through the dance a second time, but he added a twist in the middle and when she followed she missed a step and giggled at being thrown off.

Yet she clasped his hand again to try for a third time.

He led her through the steps one more time, adding extra flourishes to his dance moves.

By the time they finished, Rumi was breathless with giggles and her smile was so broad it made her cheeks hurt.

“Well done.

Now, the sun is set, and my stomach has declared it time to eat.

Then some good rest,”

he said.“I could use some sleep,”

he confessed, despite strolling back to the water’s edge and settling himself back down in the lake.

“It feels nice here.”

She hummed her agreement and took a deep breath.

Maybe the first deep breath in days.

It felt that way anyway.

Perhaps she could just be Desert Rumi for now.

Not Rumina, daughter to the aba, but Rumi, the woman who shares a moss bed with a handsome stranger to keep warm.

She stepped away from the water, looking back to be sure he was not slipping beneath the surface.

“I can make us another hut.

I might need to rest for a little longer if I do…but we have time.”

Her voice sounded timid this time, even to herself, testing the words against his expression to weigh the truthfulness of the statement.

Cal was sitting on the sand in the shallow water now, facing the shore, his legs outstretched and leaning back so that his head bobbed on the water behind him.

He sat up slowly, sand crumbling from his shirt as he stood, looking to the east for a long moment.

Rumi looked in that direction as well, the storm clouds in the distance flashing with lightning.

“I figure we have at least two days on any pursuit.

The storm came in from the northeast, which is rare, and we got caught in the tail end of it.

But Durask—they’ll be in the thick of things.

No way anyone’s moving through that storm.

They’ll hunker down, wait it out.

Judgin’ by the weight of those clouds, I’d say we may even have another day on top of that, if that storm lasts longer.”

He looked toward their destination, squinting.

“I’d put us somewhere between two to three days out from Chirston, near as I can tell.

Even if they kill their striders chasing us, we’ll be in Chirston a full day before they will.

He finally met her gaze, smiling.

“All that’s to say, yeah, we have time.”

She smiled a small smile back before turning away.

Maybe she was slowly winning him over and he could finally believe her.

If they were not rushing, then he was in no hurry to turn her in.

Her heart warmed and she chuckled to herself as she searched the area for a suitable spot to make camp.

She chose a flat space nestled between two trees where stiff grasses tickled her calves.

In no time at all, she had a small fire crackling and a makeshift spit with the rabbit he had caught before the climb sizzling over the flames.

She kept glancing out at the lake to be sure that Callum was safe and not dipping beneath the water.

While the rabbit cooked, she staked the three plants she had saved into the ground equidistantly apart and then began humming softly to create the new hut, housing the fire inside to ensure they would be warm.

She glanced up as Cal joined her by the fire, his fingertips wrinkled from the long exposure to water and his face aglow with his earlier burn, enhanced by the firelight.

He sat across the fire from her and took a sip from his canteen, leaning his head back to gaze at the stars.

“In the morning we should head that way,”

he said, pointing out past the lake.

“We can rest awhile,”

she disagreed, stoking the coals.

“Enjoy this bounteous gift from the gods and use this time to better prepare for another cross-desert trip.”

She pulled the roasted meat from the spit and set it on a broad leaf, offering it to him first and then tearing off a limb for herself.

They ate in silence, the crackle and pop of the meager fire illuminating their faces in warm yellow and deep orange tones.

When she finished her meal, she reached into her pack and pulled out a swath of moss she had kept from their last resting place.

“What are you doing?”

he asked, with genuine curiosity.

He no longer seemed concerned with whatever she might do next.

Perhaps she was truly no longer a threat to him.

“I should think it was obvious.

I am making us beds.”

“Do all Arryvians possess the skill to do such things?” he asked.

Her eyes shot to his.

She hesitated before she answered, her fingers twitching over the moss as it expanded and grew.

She avoided his eyes, focusing on her work as she spoke.

“Not all, but most do.

Ti’la is a part of us all.”

“You mean, for you tree folk,”

he said, absently picking at one of the frayed tears of his shirt.

Watching his fingers move and his forearm flex had her mind wandering, imagining that hand on her skin.

“No, I mean everyone.”

She cleared her throat.

“Even you, though Arryvians are the only ones who can use it.”

Moss pads complete, she brushed off her hands.

“Even me?”

He spoke the words as if he did not believe her, and that made a coil of annoyance sting her chest.

That sharpness helped douse some of the kindling that had sparked earlier.

“Why is that such a difficult thing to believe? A Ti’la is what one might call a soul.

A spirit.

Energy.

Whatever name you should like to give it, it is still the same thing.”

“How did you get it?”

“I was born with it.”

Her shoulders were already tensing against the questions, so reminiscent of the multiple interrogations.

She grasped that feeling and coaxed it louder.

They may have a truce, but he was still her captor.

There was no doubt that she found him attractive, but that did not change the fact that she was promised to another.

She would return home and all this would disappear.

Desert Rumi would cease to exist.

His grunted reply set her teeth on edge, and she heaved a sigh that lifted her shoulders and then relaxed them some.

“It is simply a gift from the gods.

A myth for another time.”

Rumi sensed her tone growing sharp and she reeled herself in.

Ever since he had rescued her from Sullivan, he had been nothing but honorable and had saved her life many times now.

She believed that he was a good man, beneath the brusque and rugged exterior.

He did not deserve her harsh words.

Taking another breath, she softened her tone.

“I am going to sleep. You may…do whatever it is you do, Colonel.”

She did not give him a moment to respond, instead she settled onto her mossy bed, pointedly rolled away from him, and squeezed her eyes shut.

He moved about the hovel for a bit, presumably cleaning his piercer, by the sound of it, but then, just as the owls began calling softly, hooting over the dunes, she heard his breathing slow.

Rumi counted the seconds, repeating the numbers over and over in her head until she was certain he would not wake.

Then she rose from the bed, grabbed her small pouch, and crept out into the moonlit desert to view the water as it reflected the silver light like a grand mirror.

With one last smile in his direction, she padded back toward the shoreline.

This was Desert Rumi.

No rules.

No consequences.

She made her way hastily over the sand and ducked behind a frond, stripping out of her clothing, leaving it strewn on the beach with her bag.

She had noticed the fronds along the far edge of the oasis, and they looked similar to the ones back home.

She hoped she had guessed correctly and they would produce the same substance so she could actually cleanse her hair. The runoff had been wonderful, but it had been far too long since she had actually been clean.

Moonlight kissed her skin and her long hair curled around her waist, tickling her back and stomach.

She risked a glance back at the hut before lowering herself into the water.

Rumi tipped her head backward to face the sky, her eyes scanning the constellations.

She let the water carry her mind to the far off places she had been carefully avoiding.

“Do you often take moonlit baths?”

His voice was husky with sleep and she jerked upright, whirling to face him, but keeping her body hidden beneath the water.

She attempted to pin him to the spot with a stern look.

“I find it better than the daylight hours.”

The slight edge of nervousness made her voice waver.

“I can see why.

It’s peaceful,”

He replied, his eyes wandering to the small canopy of trees, the shoreline, then followed the silver-kissed peaks of rippling water as they led to Rumi.

“Why are you out here?”

she demanded.

“I could ask you the same, though I suppose it’s obvious,”

he replied with a raised eyebrow, his gaze following the bare line of her collarbone.

“I asked you first.”

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“Fine.

I have…dreams.

Often.

This one woke me.

You were gone and I…”

He trailed off and rubbed the back of his head.

“What did you dream about?”

she asked, tipping her head to one side, but he waved his hand as if to brush away the question.

“Nothin’ much.

Are there pools like this in your home? I ain’t ever seen something this vast, except the sea.”

He stopped at the shoreline, the water just lapping at the toes of his boots.

Strange, he would call this little oasis vast.

But, as he said before, they did not have lakes here.

“There are many bodies of water like this in my home.

Most are this size or a little smaller, but there are a few that stretch far across and are home to many creatures.

Some connect to rivers.”

Could he see her? The thought made her body heat and she covered her breasts in hopes he could not see her naked form beneath the surface.

Never before had she felt so utterly exposed.

Yet, while it was uncomfortable, she had no urge to flee.

She stayed just barely out of reach with the water licking lazily around her neck, her toes squelching in the sandy bottom.

“Will you tell me more about your people? Or maybe finish your god story?”

he asked gently, watching her with an intense gaze.

“My god story?”

She smiled and dipped slightly lower to stay hidden.

“Careful, Callum, if I did not know better, I would think perhaps you had a change of heart.”

“You could say that.”

She tried not to read too much into that statement.

“All right, I suppose I could tell more.”

She shifted beneath the water, staying well covered.

“There was a fight between them—Morthis and Kaelthor.

A fight over love and brotherhood, friendship and passion…

“Behiba created humans as a way of easing the loneliness that her children felt.

They protected them and befriended them, becoming integrated into their lives, but always separate.

Until Kaelthor found a lover.”

“A lover, you say?”

He surprised her by once again slipping his boots off and wading into the water.

Each wave of his arms brought him closer and sent her heart pitching right out of her breastbone.

She floated, frozen in the intensity of his gaze until he was standing before her, the water caressing his ribs.

She noticed that he kept his shirt on, despite her knowing it was against his custom.

She reached out her hand and brushed a stray bit of dirt from his shoulder, her fingers lingering on his arm, drawn to touch him.

Hesitantly, he mirrored her gesture.

His fingertips touched her shoulder, sliding over the wetness as he connected drops on her collarbone, drawing a line up to her neck.

His eyes met hers, “Your skin.

So much softer than sand,”

he observed, watching her expression.

“Then what happened?”

“W-what always happens when one brother has what another covets.”

She drew closer, as if his touch were magnetic, pulling her in to encourage his exploration.

“Kaelthor had always been more connected to the humans than the other gods.

More in tune with them.

He related to them in a way that many could not.”

She could feel his heart hammering against her fingertips as she slid them back toward the top of his shoulder, tracing his collar bone, her eyes searching his face all the while.

A ripple of goosebumps followed the trail his fingers made over her skin and her breathing turned shallow.

“There was a war,”

she whispered.

“Between the gods and humans who sided with them.”

Callum was close.

Very close.

She shivered and swallowed hard against the lust that nearly ran her through.

This was a lot, even for Desert Rumi.

She had Zinhar back home waiting for her, and she could not let her heart go frolicking about in the desert.

Rumi dropped her eyes and took a half step back, ensuring the water still covered her naked body, twisting her hair around her fingertip.

“What started the war?”

Callum, ever the perceptive one, dropped his hands into the water, pushing the ripples to and fro, making no move to follow.

“Kaelthor shared his godly gifts with his love.

He broke the rules of the gods, and Morthis was furious because he had also sought to share his gifts and was denied by Behiba.

When he discovered the deceit, Morthis drove the people to a bloodlust and they chased Kaelthor and his lover into hiding.

Some say he killed them.”

His eyes lingered on her face.

That look smoldered, making her mouth dry.

“What do you say?”

“My ama always taught me that Behiba sent them away—hid Morthis deep in the earth to atone and sent Kaelthor to a safe place to live out his life with his love.”

“And you believe in this?”

The intensity in his eyes made her rock back and forth on her heels with nervous energy.

She covered it by tucking her hair behind her ear.

“More or less.

Aba tells a different tale in which Morthis was successful and killed them both, which is why the Arryvian people now disavow violence.

The Song Seekers claim that Morthis cursed Kaelthor and his lover.”

Rumi cupped her hand and poured the water over her head.

“Now, if you do not mind, I am going to actually wash.”

With another stern look, she made a twirling motion with her finger.

“Do not peek.”

Then she swam toward where she had seen the reedy plants, pulled a couple stalks of green, and snapped one of them in half.

She rubbed the stalk together between her hands until frothy bubbles appeared in between her fingers.

She listened for his movements, content when the sound of sand squishing replaced the ripples of water.

“If one is to believe the legends, Behiba imprisoned Morthis deep beneath the sea where she could keep close watch on him and control his fiery rage,”

she said, glancing at him over her shoulder.

She stepped behind a frond, near where she had deposited her bag, before carefully and thoroughly scrubbing at her body.

Once she was covered in the reedy salve, she pulled out a comb she had fashioned from the spines of the lefiin while Callum had been off hunting, and began to rake through her long locks.

Then she snapped the other stalk for more frothy bubbles and scrubbed at her scalp, running her sudsy hands through her hair.

Rumi could not help but feel proud that she had guessed correctly.

“What happened to Kaelthor and his lover?”

He asked, his back still turned, rocking on his heels on the sand.

“No one really knows, though we still leave offerings at his temple.

It was his gift that granted the Arryvian’s control of the Ti’la.”

Then she stepped back down into the water with a throaty sigh and rinsed the bubbles from her hair.

“If you should like to wash as well, I can leave this here for you,”

she offered her supplies when she was rinsed.

A peek over her shoulder proved he had remained honorable and respected her privacy.

She gathered her clothing and slipped the oversized shirt over her head before making her way back toward the hut.

“I am going to rest now.

You should do the same.

For real this time.”

“May I ask you another question?”

Callum asked, catching her arm as she walked past, then pulling away as if she had scalded his hand.

“Yes.”

Rumi turned to face him, feeling the tendrils of her damp hair curling around her face.

“Why are you answering my questions now when you would not share these things with me on the ship? It would have made things so much easier…”

Rumi stiffened and lifted her chin.

“On the ship, you were a villain.”

“And now?”

“I have not decided yet.”