Page 24 of Secrets in a Sandstorm

It’s Teddy.

I stand, suddenly worried that something is wrong…but he’s sitting by the fire writing his letter as if no time has passed.

Teddy looks up as though I did make a pained sound.

“What have you got?” Teddy calls. His voice is tight, like he’s forcing good cheer.

The wound didn’t look bad, but every soldier knows that can be a lie, and I’m no doctor.

“Gold.” I try to sound bright, like I believe everything is fine and we’ll be heading back to HQ in time for breakfast, but the memory of the blade between my ribs and Ay’s bleeding face is too strong.

Memory? More like the fever dream of a man who’s lost his nerve. The desert and the war have finally broken me.

I make my way back to Teddy to show him my finds. There’s no more gold to be found in the cave; it was taken by the scribe and his soldiers. The only pieces left were the armband I was wearing and Bast hidden beneath me.

No, not me. Him. The priest.

His life and death are far too close. Clearer than some memories from my own life. And I envy what he had with Ay. I kneel next to Teddy to show him the cat and armband.

Teddy smiles at me, his skin gleaming with sweat, but doesn’t seem interested in the artifacts. If he touched Bast, would he see the priest’s life or Ay’s? I shiver, already knowing the answer, while also refusing to believe that we have been trapped in this cave before.

Last time, only one of us made it out alive.

“Can you put some more net on the fire? It’s getting quite cold,” Teddy says.

It’s not cold, but I do it anyway. “How’s your side? Do you want me to check it?”

“I’m a bit sore and a bit chilly.” He hands me a folded piece of map. “For my mother.”

I take and force my lips to curve in what I hope is something jolly. “You’ll be able to give it to her yourself.”

“It’s just in case. I haven’t written home as often as Ishould.” He hands me another piece of paper. “And this one is for you.”

“For me?” My heartbeat quickens.

“Sometimes it’s easier to write things down than say them. But I don’t think I can bear to see you read it, so please save the letter for when you find a few minutes alone.” He gives me another tight smile. “And then you can give me your answer.”

I can guess what is in the letter. I slide the paper into my breast pocket over my heart. “Should I be worried?”

He laughs, but it turns into a gasp and a groan. “Can I have another drink?”

“Sure.” I pass him the bottle and sit next to him. “If you want the pain shot...”

“Not yet. But I would like to be closer to the fire.”

“We can lie next to it. I’ll help keep you warm.” I toss some more net on the fire and help Teddy lie on his good side.He’s going to be fine. But the more times I repeat the words, the more I see through the threadbare lie.

I died in this cave, alone and abandoned by my lover, and I don’t want Teddy to feel that heartbreak or pain even though we are not lovers.

I lie down behind him and let him use my arm as a pillow. My other arm is thrown around his chest to avoid hurting his wound. He holds my hand, his skin cold and slick.

“This is nice,” he murmurs.

“It is.” It’s a pleasure I have denied myself since my wife’s death. I want to kiss the back of his neck and press my hips close, but that isn’t what this is.

“It’s what I wanted that night when everyone was drinking and celebrating.”

I remember the night. I’d been worried he was going tomake an obvious move and draw attention to him and, by default, me. I’d put him to bed, telling him to sleep it off. The look on his face, the naked hunger. I don’t think I could’ve resisted if he’d dragged me into bed with him. If he’d whispered his desire...

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