Page 23 of Bound by Wishes (Enchanted Deceptions #1)
T he desert was a mysterious and unforgiving place. By day, the sun blazed down with a fierce intensity, turning the sands into a shimmering sea of heat. The ground, scorched by the sun, became so hot that it felt like it could melt the skin from your bones. But when the sun set and darkness fell, the desert changed. With no moisture in the air to hold in the warmth, it quickly grew frigid, leaving the once-blistering dunes icy cold under the night sky.
My teeth chattered as I pulled the worn cloak tighter around my shoulders, trying to block out the biting night breeze. The horse trotted along at a slow pace. We’d been wandering for hours without any sign of the palace guards, so I allowed the horse to move at this leisurely pace. Now my biggest worry was keeping warm enough to survive the night. I finally pulled the horse to a stop and dismounted, the cold air nipping at my exposed skin. I led the horse along beside me, hoping that walking might get my blood flowing and bring some warmth back into my stiff, frozen limbs.
“We should’ve been there by now,” I whined to no one in particular, but the horse’s ears laid flat against his head like he was listening.
No one in this world held my trust like Malik. If anyone was going to believe my wild tale about being taken hostage by a snarky, gorgeous genie, discovering I was a long-lost descendant of King Thalorian, and accidentally unleashing an ancient evil upon the world, it would be him. But what if he was no longer here? What if so much time had slipped by that he’d long since left the shores of Jalam? Panic flared hot within me, clawing its way up, and I fought to smother it. I couldn’t let myself think like that—not now.
As I urged the gray up the massive dune, my feet sank deep into the shifting sands with every step. I kept my gaze focused on the crescent moon above, afraid that if I looked anywhere else, I would fall into despair and give in to my fatigue. It hung delicately in the night sky, its slender arc shimmering with a silvery light that spread a soft glow over the dunes.
Amidst twinkling stars and blazing planets, you shine brighter than anything in the sky, ya amar. My moon. It used to infuriate me when Ranen called me that, but now I held onto it, using it to push me forward. What once upset me gave me the drive I needed to keep going.
I finally reached the top, my breath coming in short, ragged bursts. I fell to my knees, relief flooding through me as I saw the campsite below. Nothing in that moment was more beautiful than the tents that sprawled across the desert floor .
Bright lanterns and campfires dotted the scene, creating a warm, glowing halo around the camp. Shadows danced along the edges of the canvas shelters, and the occasional plume of smoke rose into the cool night air. At this hour, everything was eerily still. No one moved about. The tents were firmly secured, their flaps tied tight against the cool desert air. The native workers huddled close to the fire, seeking warmth from the flickering flames. Everything was quiet except the occasional crackle of the kindling fire and the whisper of the wind across the vast dunes.
I led my horse down the steep incline, shushing him when he nickered softly. I didn’t want to alert everyone to my presence, especially not Mathew. When we walked past the workers, my gaze snared on the boy I’d met my first day here. What was his name? So much had happened recently that my mind was a jumbled-up mess. Hassan. That was it.
I crouched beside him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “Hassan,” I said, barely above a whisper as I lightly shook him.
The boy jolted awake, sitting up on his pallet. His hair was a tangled mess, standing on end, and he had traces of sleep still lingering in his eyes.
“I’m sorry to wake you,” I whispered, releasing his shoulder. “I don’t know if you remember me but…”
“I remember you, madam,” he answered timidly. “I thought you were dead?”
“Let’s keep it that way,” I said, glancing around. “I need you to take care of my horse. Can you do that for me?”
He stood, taking the reins from my hands. The gray flicked his tail in the air as Hassan gently led him forward.
“Please don’t tell anyone you’ve seen me,” I pleaded. Hassan nodded in understanding. He and the horse vanished into the maze of tents, leaving me alone in the stillness of the night.
I glanced around cautiously before weaving my way through the tents in search of Malik. A surge of warmth filled my chest when I finally spotted his tent in the distance. I had to hold myself back from rushing in. Malik thought I was dead, and I didn’t want to scare him to death.
I approached his tent and began to untie the knot securing the flaps. My hands stilled when I glanced to the side and saw a small memorial outside his tent. It was a simple wooden cross, carved with delicate patterns, jutting out of the sand beside a softly glowing lantern. Etched into the cross were the words “In Memory of my Best Friend Cal.”
Sorrow pinched my chest as I dropped my hands to my sides and drew closer to the memorial. Next to the cross was a collection of my belongings—an old brass compass tarnished from years of use, a weathered journal with my sketches and notes, and a faded photograph of me and Malik in the field on our first dig. Surrounding these mementos were a few sprigs of dried purple desert roses, withered with the passage of time under the relentless sun. My heart broke all over again at the pain he must have endured in my absence. I couldn't imagine what he had been through. I would be a useless puddle of emotions if I ever lost him.
I walked back to his tent, using the sleeve of my cloak to dry my misty eyes before untying the flap and stepping inside. A small lantern flickered softly on a makeshift nightstand. The gentle glow revealed Malik’s form on a cot beneath a thick blanket, pulled up to his chin.
I walked over to the cot and crouched beside him with a tender smile on my lips. Gently, I ran my fingertips in a featherlight touch across his dark skin, my hand brushing against unexpected scruff along his jaw. He had always been clean-shaven, and the coarse stubble surprised me.
“Malik?” I leaned in closer to him, easing the hood of the cloak from my head so he could tell it was me. He stirred, but his eyes remained closed. “Malik?” I called again, shaking him gently until his eyelids fluttered open. His gaze locked with mine, and I smiled. “Hi.”
Malik yelped in surprise, bounding from the bed. The blanket tangled around his legs, tripping him up and sending him crashing to the ground. I leaped onto him, using all my weight to pin him down. I pressed my hand firmly over his mouth, my heart pounding as I tried to muffle any more screams.
“Malik, it’s me,” I hissed, trying to keep him from tossing me off.
“Cal?” His breath was warm and shaky against my hand, and he stilled. I eased my hand away from his mouth, but the moment he caught sight of me, he let out a panicked scream, “It’s a ghost!” he wailed. I slammed my hand back over his mouth, desperate to keep him quiet.
“Since when do we believe in ghosts?” I scoffed at his outburst.
I pondered the irony of my question. Since when did we believe in genies or evil beings like the Nightshade? Maybe ghosts weren’t entirely out of the question anymore. The boundaries of what I considered real had shifted so much lately.
“Calm down,” I demanded. “I’m going to remove my hand. Do you promise not to yell?”
Malik nodded once, and I slowly pulled my hand away. I slid off him, sitting on the rug that lined the tent beside him.
Malik pushed himself up, his eyes wide with disbelief as they locked onto me. “Cal? Is that really you?” he asked in disbelief.
“No. I’m a ghost, and I’ve come to haunt you for the rest of your days. Booooo,” I said, trying to lighten the mood with a playful ghostly wail.
“Don’t you play with me right now,” he scolded. “I’m pretty sure my soul just left my body.” He clutched his chest, and I couldn’t help but smile at his antics.
“I missed you,” I whispered as tears threatened my eyes again. I threw my arms around his neck, pulling him close.
Malik returned my hug, his arms tightening around my waist. “Wait!” he gasped, pushing me away. “Where have you been? We’ve turned that stupid cave upside down looking for your body, and now you’re just going to waltz in here all innocent, like nothing’s happened?”
“It’s a long story,” I warned.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Where am I going to go?” He motioned around the tent.
“How long have I been gone?” I asked, still scarcely believing he was sitting before me.
“Almost two years,” he said skeptically, like I should know that.
“Two years?” I gasped, pressing my hands to my temples as I struggled to comprehend it. “Why are you still here? ”
“Mathew’s convinced that King Thalorian’s mines are here, and you know how stubborn he is,” Malik explained. “He’s not leaving until he finds them, and as long as he’s throwing money at the museum, they’re more than happy to keep us stuck in this scorching wasteland.”
“Well, I’m just glad you’re still here, because I need your help.” I forced a sweet smile.
One of his brows arched. “Help with what, exactly?”
I inhaled deeply and started to tell him everything that had happened to me from the time I fell through the hole in the cave to my daring escape across the desert to get to him. And how all of this had only happened over a few weeks in the kingdom of Jalam. I did, however, purposely leave out my growing attraction to a certain genie and a kiss that made my body feel like it was ablaze, but other than that, I told him everything.
Malik reached up, brushing his hand across my forehead. “Genies? A Nightshade mummy?” He paused. “Cal, I think you might have hit your head and are delusional. How many fingers do you see?” he asked, his tone filled with skepticism as he held up his hand in front of me.
“Three,” I said, pushing his hand away. “And I am not delusional.”
I stood and carefully removed my cloak, letting it fall to the ground. Beneath it were the fine clothes I’d put on that morning, though they were now dirty and torn from everything that had happened. Despite their condition, their elegance spoke for itself.
Malik’s eyes widened as his gaze ran down the off-the-shoulder crop top and high-waisted harem pants, both in a vibrant red .
“Cal,” he said, shuffling to his feet. “This is unbelievable. I would say I wished all of this was a dream, but I don’t want to wake up and find out that you were never here.”
I smiled at him and gripped his shoulder. “I am here and this is real and I need your help.”
Malik shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I know, I know. You’ve told me you need me to help you get back into that cave and free your genie. Do you have any idea how crazy all of this sounds?”
“I am very much aware,” I assured him as I walked over to the tent flap and pushed it aside.
“Where are you going?” Malik asked as he stepped toward me.
“To my tent,” I said with a shrug. “I need to change.”
Malik shook his head. “You really do believe you’ve only been gone for a few weeks, don’t you?” My brow furrowed in confusion as he continued. “You don’t have a tent anymore, Cal,” he explained. “After the accident, Mathew brought in more people—new archaeologists, assistants, you name it. He’s bringing in more every day. That tent you had is someone else’s now.”
I stilled as a cool night breeze drifted past me, sweeping into the tent. No matter how hard I tried, my mind refused to accept that I’d been gone so long, when it felt like only days, maybe weeks, had slipped by.
“Can I borrow some of your clothes?” I asked him, refusing to dwell on the impossibility of the time.
He bent down, reaching beneath his cot to pull something out. “I couldn’t bring myself to throw your things away,” he said softly, offering me my bag with a bittersweet smile. Then he stepped outside the tent, giving me a moment of privacy.
As I shuffled through my bag, a soothing comfort filled my chest at the familiar items. I pulled out a dark-green tank top and a pair of high-waisted khaki pants, then changed, feeling like myself again in my clothes. Next, I slipped on my dark-brown tactical boots with scuffed leather that told of their age.
Running my fingers through my hair, a sharp pain made me hiss. I glanced down at the wound. It was angry and red, with dried blood caked around the edges. It needed to be cleaned and dressed, but I didn’t have the time and couldn’t risk going to the medical tent. Instead, I tied a bandanna around it, hoping to keep any additional dirt out of the cut.
With my hand bandaged, I braided my hair and pulled on a thick coat to ward off the chill before stepping back outside. Malik ducked back inside and then joined me after he changed. We snuck through the array of tents, stopping in the shadows when we saw or heard anyone moving around camp.
“How are we going to get there?” Malik whispered from behind. “I don’t think we can risk taking a vehicle. The engine starting will wake someone up.”
I stopped outside the campsite, where several camels were tied to a weathered post. Their eyes were closed, and their heads gently lolled from side to side as they dozed in the cool night air. The soft rustle of their movements and the occasional flick of a tail were the only sounds in the stillness.
“Ever ride on a camel?” I asked, turning to him with a big smile on my face .
Malik followed my line of sight. “I ain’t riding no camel, Cal!” he thundered.
“Shh,” I scolded him softly. “We don’t have a choice. Like you said, a car would be too loud, and the only horse I’ve seen in camp is the one I rode in on, and he’s in no condition to carry both of us that far.”
I walked over to the camels, with Malik trailing hesitantly behind me. “Aren’t they sweet?” I cooed, running my hand along the coarse hair of one of their necks. The camel stirred at my touch, its large eyes half-opening with mild curiosity.
“No, they are not,” Malik sulked. “They’re filthy beasts that spit.”
“It's not exactly spitting,” I corrected him. “When camels are agitated, threatened, or annoyed, they regurgitate the contents of their stomach and project it, along with saliva, toward the source of their irritation.” I turned to him with bright eyes.
Malik’s glare could’ve cut through me. “That’s a thousand times worse than just spitting,” he grumbled.
“You don’t have to worry about it if you’re on its back,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Now come on.” I stopped in front of the camels, my gaze sweeping over their humps and the saddles on the ground. “I don’t know how to saddle a camel. Do you?” I asked, turning to Malik.
“What about my appearance would possibly make you think that I know how to saddle a camel?” Malik asked sarcastically.
“Stop being a pain,” I hissed, frustration creeping into my voice. “Go find that young boy, Hassan. Surely, he knows how to saddle a camel.”
Malik walked off without another word. I wasn’t sure he was coming back until he rounded one of the tents with Hassan on his heels.
“I can help, madam,” Hassan said politely.
“Thank you.” I smiled at him before turning to glare at Malik. “It’s so nice to have useful men around.”
Malik huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as we stood off to the side, watching Hassan expertly strap the riding saddles onto two of the camels. His movements were quick and practiced, securing the straps and adjusting the saddles.
“They’re ready,” Hassan announced proudly.
I slowly approached one of the camels, which was still in a kneeling position, its large eyes watching my every movement. Taking a deep breath, I placed my foot in the stirrup, feeling the worn leather beneath my boot. “How hard could this be?” I murmured to myself, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “After all, it has to be easier than riding an elephant.”
I swung my leg over the saddle, gripping the horn to pull myself up with a grunt. Hassan signaled the camel to stand, and the animal straightened its back legs first. The sudden shift threw me forward, my heart racing as I fought to stay in the saddle. As the camel's front legs followed suit, its body leveled out. I clutched the saddle horn tightly, holding on for dear life as the camel steadied itself beneath me.
“See, it wasn’t that bad.” I smiled at Malik, who still wore a horrified expression on his face.
I bit my lip, struggling to suppress my laughter as Malik awkwardly mounted the camel. Hassan gave the command, and the camel rose. Malik let out a few choice unsavory words as the camel's back legs straightened, pitching him forward. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into these things,” he seethed, turning to me with a scowl.
“Without me, your life would be dull,” I reminded him, a smile stretching further across my face.
Malik shifted in the saddle. “Dull sounds very peaceful.”
I ignored his fussing, turning to Hassan. “You steer them similarly to a horse, right?” I tried to learn a little about them before coming to Jalam.
“Camels require a bit more patience and constant pressure to steer them,” Hassan answered.
“Thank you, Hassan. I think we’ll be okay,” I said, dismissing him with a sweet smile.
“Speak for yourself,” Malik complained.
Hassan ventured back toward the campsite as I nudged the camel’s sides gently. “Teet teet,” I encouraged, followed by a firm “Hut-hut-hut.” The camel responded with a sudden surge forward, and Malik’s camel mirrored mine.
As we thundered across the desert plains, Malik’s voice cut through the wind. “Your so-called genie better grant me any wish I want after enduring this!” he yelled, the sound of his voice barely audible over the thundering hooves and the cold night wind sweeping across the desert.