‘You did well, my friend,’ Idan growled, his hand landing on the boy’s shoulder. ‘It’s just as well because I now plan to gift it all to you.’
Lago’s face fell. ‘Why? You’re leaving?’
Idan glanced at Sheba. ‘I must, this place was a temporary reprieve for me and is not home anymore, but it’s now yours.’
He produced a data-slate and a leather pouch heavy with more gems from his hoard.
‘The deeds are signed, Lago. The holding, the structures, and the machinery belong to you now. Consider this payment for the loyalty you demonstrated when I was elsewhere. Now you and your family can enjoy the land.’
The young man stared at the unexpected boon, tears carving tracks through the dirt on his cheeks.
He stammered a series of fractured thanks until Idan clapped him on the shoulder and led him away to inspect the animals and discuss the deed transfer in detail.
Sheba’s attention turned to the quaint cottage, as a flood of intimate memories rushed her.
Pushing the door in, her eyes fell on Idan’s leather-work surface, the armchair where she spent hours feeding the baby lamb by the fire, and the table where they shared quiet meals and read by the flickering amber light of the hearth.
Her hands brushed over the luxe furs on his bed, remembering their scorching lovemaking in the coldest nights.
Her heart pounded with emotion, and she blinked to keep the tears from running down her cheeks.
She was gliding her fingers over the stone mantelpiece when a voice murmured behind her.
‘This place appears sacred.’
She turned to see Mirage framed in the doorway, her high heels and tight bejeweled jumpsuit incongruous in the humble space.
‘It was and still is. I’ll miss it,’ Sheba muttered.
‘You can still bottle it so to speak, by taking the most precious aspects of it with you.’
‘Indeed, will you help me pack?’ Sheba invited. ‘It’s not much, we only have a living room, kitchen, lean-to, and the storage cellar to sort through.’
‘Of course,’ the demi-urge said as she launched into working alongside Sheba to bundle a bulk of her and Idan’s possessions into hover crates.
In time, they filled a couple of boxes with cutlery, plates, pots, pans, even the armchair, and bedding.
They left Idan’s tools and leather-making supplies, as well as his precious carvings, clothes, and belongings for him to organize through.
Mirage guided the sealed hover containers back to the ship as Sheba folded heavy furs into the last crate.
The space, once a shrine of wild heat and whispers, was now stark. However, to Sheba, it would forever be the sanctuary where she discovered the universe’s purest love.
Needing to share the moment with her man, she stepped out of the hut and called out for him.
‘Idan?’
Silence met her.
Sheba sent aSsignakhtpulse, and in seconds, she got a prescient nudge of which direction to search.
Heading east of the farm, she tracked a path through the scrub until she reached the perimeter of the property.
In the distance, where the land surrendered to a vertical drop of several thousand feet, she spotted him.
His dark silhouette stood outlined against the bruised purple of the twilight sky. He remained motionless, a statue of granite and shadow perched on the extreme edge of a cliffside.
Far below, the sea churned in a violent frenzy, the turbulent, white-capped waves slamming into the base of the mountain.
