Page 27 of Under the Arabian Sky

“I’m an arenologist.”

“An aren-what?”

“I study sand. Its movement over time, its molecular structure, its evolution on this earth.”

“Sounds fascinating.”

“Most people don’t think so.”

“You’re talking to an Omani. Our lives are built on sand… quite literally. It can give life, but it can also take it away. Which is why Tariq must always exercise caution when he’s out there.”

I gave a quizzical look from Zahra to Tariq. “Why is that?”

“He suffers from asthma.”

“Correction,” Tariq chimed in. “I have medication thatpreventsme from suffering from asthma. My mother is being dramatic.”

“I’m being protective. The desert can be unpredictable… and unforgiving. In any case,” Zahra said, turning back to me, “You’ve certainly come to the right place to conduct your research.”

“Speaking of which,” I said, turning to Tariq, “I should really get back to Professor Cavendish’s place this morning. I’ve barely had a chance to look at any of his work yet.”

“I can take you,” said Tariq, “but if the place looks at all inhospitable, we’re finding you a new place to stay.”

“Tariq, I’m—”

“— not arguing with me.”

Casually he continued scooping out a passionfruit as Zahra leaned across to me and patted my arm. “He can be as stubborn as his father. I’d do what he says if I were you.” She passed me the plate of bread. “Here, have somekhubz ragag. You’re going to need your strength.”

CHAPTER11

“No!No, no, no, no, no… you are not staying here.”

“Tariq, it’s fine,” I said, trying to fan myself with a book from Cavendish’s cluttered shelves.

“Fine? There’s a hole in the ceiling, an infestation of ants in one corner of the room, and… what’s that smell?”

I hadn’t noticed the smell before, but now that I took a good whiff, I was forced to clap my hand over my nose. “I’m not sure, but I think something may have gotten stuck between the walls and died.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s Cavendish,” Tariq said grimly.

“No, he walked into the desert, remember?”

“I’m not surprised. That smell is bad enough to drive anyone into the desert. Now pack everything you need, we’re not staying.”

“Where exactly are we going?”

“Back to my place.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Your father made me feel like I’d worn out my welcome the second I set foot inside that house.”

“Then you won’t stay inside the house.”

“Where are you suggesting? You want me to bunk in with the camels?”

“They smell better than this place.”

“Are you serious?”

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