We approached the Red Rose at the edge of town; it was close to the road and the simple cave-like entrance made it appear deceptively small, though I knew from experience it tunneled back deeper and above into a second story as well.
I jumped out in front of the sandy stone building before the wagon even came to a stop, landing hard on the packed dirt, desperate to get away and work through my concerns with the men without the fear of Gideon overhearing my thoughts. “We’ll meet up for dinner in one hour,” I told them, mainly for Gideon’s sake. “I’ll get us all rooms for the night. Ryo can take care of the horses.”
I paused. Now it was my turn to ask an awkward question, and I found myself wishing it had already come up. “Gideon, can I, ah... get you a room, as well?”
“Yes, thank you,” he replied as the wagon stopped fully and everyone stood to dismount after me, following me inside. The tension in my shoulders made my headache ten times worse.
I’d finally found a Jinni to bear witness to a Gift being misused, I reminded myself. After tomorrow, everything would be different. That’s what mattered.
I booked a room for everyone, plus paid for the horse and cart as Ryo came in from the stables. It depleted a small chunk of our new funds. We were burning through them faster than I liked. But it would all be worth it. Once we received our rooms, Gideon left us for some time alone. The others waited until he’d climbed the stairs and disappeared around the corner, before they each followed suit; I caught Arie’s hand. “Can we talk?”
“Sure,” she replied, brows drawing together, wary.
“Not here,” I said. “Let’s find some place quieter.”
The Red Rose had a tavern on the main level. Only a couple patrons occupied the large room, day-drinking. The sun shone in through a simple, wide-open window carved into the rock, which wafted delicious smells during meals, drawing in crowds.
Ignoring them and the space, I led Arie out the front door instead. I needed to put some space between us and the others. Especially Gideon.
Everything was built with the sand-colored rock, which made it easy for newcomers to get lost. Even so, nothing had changed. I found my way easily down one narrow street and the next, turning here, then there. We reached the other side of town in no time.
“This way,” I said, the first words either of us had spoken since we left. I pointed to a small crevice in the rock formations that the city had been built up against. “I used to come out here as a boy.”
I led her inside the narrow cave. Ducking to avoid hitting my head, I entered the darkness without hesitation.
Arie didn’t follow.
I poked my head back out. “Just trust me, would you?” I laughed. “I promise you’ll like it.”
Her brows rose in disbelief and she hesitated.
I tried to see it from her perspective. We were still nearly strangers, after all. Without thinking much about it, I reached out my hand, palm up. “I promise you’ll be safe.”
She slowly accepted, curling her fingers around mine.
I gently led her through the tunnel, which curved into darkness in one direction, then back in the opposite direction, shrinking down until at a certain point we had to get down on our knees and crawl, which was likely the only reason it’d gone undiscovered by anyone else because an adult would never think to keep going.
As children, Naveed and I had discovered this place, but we’d never shown it to anyone before; for some reason, I found myself wanting to show it to Arie.
In the dark of the tunnel, she clutched my hand but didn’t complain.
As we stood on the other side of the pinch point, light trickled in and I led her toward it.
A small oasis opened up before us, walled in on all sides by steep rock walls that from the outside were too sheer to scale. But inside the small space was a small, quiet pool, soft sand, and the sun shone down cheerfully on us.
Arie gasped, stopping in the tunnel entrance.
“Told you.” I smiled at her over my shoulder. I didn’t need to hold her hand anymore, but I didn’t let go just yet.
Though she tried not to smile, her lips twitched, and she let me lead her on.
“Right here,” I said, letting go of her hand and stepping to the side to let her go ahead of me.
We followed the beaten path Naveed and I had created as children, rounding the deep pool to where a boulder made a natural seat on the other side.
Up close, the pool was too deep to see the bottom, kept constantly full by some internal spring even in the heat of summers, except for one side where a shallow ledge was visible and the deep blue water turned nearly clear, showing the bleached rock beneath.
Instead of joining me on the boulder to sit formally, Arie dropped to the ground by the shallow side of the pool, pulled off her boots, lifted her skirts up to her knees, and stepped into the cool water with a happy sigh.
