Page 3 of Bound By Wishes

Once he was gone, I quickly rinsed off in the tepid water, then changed out of my traveling outfit and into a pair of high-waisted, wide-legged trousers, a simple top, and my favorite pair of worn boots. I let my hair down from the disheveled bun, ran my fingers through the long wavy strands, and quickly braided it. By the time I had made myself somewhat presentable, Hassan had returned with my water. I took several large gulps, and the cool liquid eased my parched throat.

“Better hurry, madam. Everyone is going to the main tent,” Hassan reminded me.

I offered him a grateful smile and then grabbed my father’s tattered tool bag before following him outside. The gusting wind nearly knocked me off my feet, and bits of sand blowing through the air peppered my skin. I wished I had grabbed a jacket to ward off the elements, but it was too late to worry about that now.

Hassan led me through the maze of tents until we came to one that was four times bigger than my own. Stepping inside, I immediately felt relief from the grit that had been sandpapering my skin. My eyes swept across the brightly lit tent filled with expensive-looking equipment and people eager to get started.

Just like the last time I had worked with Mathew, he spared no expense in assembling the best equipment and hiring top-notch professionals for the job. The gleaming tools and high-tech gear screamed of the amount of money that was spent on this dig. As I scanned the bustling tent, I recognized familiar faces from the museum, and each one seemed less than thrilled at my presence. I assumed their sour dispositions stemmed from the fact that a woman had to be called in to do what they clearly couldn’t. The others, however, were new to me, their eager expressions and hushed conversations hinting at their excitement.

"Now that everyone is here," Mathew said in an accusative tone, turning his eyes toward me, "we can get started." He turned to a massive map pinned to the tent wall while I navigated through the crowd and settled into a seat near Malik. “This is the location of the entrance to KingThalorian’s mines. The day is still young. I want to get started right away.”

I tuned out what I could only assume was Mathew’s pep talk, my gaze roaming over the expanse of the map, studying each intricately marked detail. Jalam was a massive region, its borders stretching along the winding curves of the Safira River and the desolate shores of the Ebon Sea. The location of the mines immediately struck me as odd. Right in the center of Jalam, where anyone could find it.

“Malik, I want you to get all the radios up and going,” Mathew instructed. “Benjamin, you’re going in first to make sure everything is safe before Caleena and the rest of the crew enters.”

“I’m going in?” I asked out loud, my tone a little more excited than I intended.

Mathew’s gaze swooped to mine. “That is why you’re here, isn’t it?” he griped. “Who else is going to read the hieroglyphics?”

“Petroglyphs,” I corrected him.

“Whatever,” he sneered.

Mathew continued his speech, and a wave of nods of approval rippled through the tent as he issued his orders and then descended from his makeshift podium. He paused beside me, his gaze meeting mine. "Are you ready for this, Cali?"

I rolled my eyes at his ridiculous question as I stepped out of the tent. The canvas fabric rustled behind me, but his words hung in the air, causing my chest to tighten. This was everything I’d ever wanted—to be just like my father. But was I ready for this?

Astrange feeling of unease settled in my chest as I stepped out of the beat-up car. For some reason, I expected the entrance to King Thalorian’s mines to be much grander than a simple stone passage carved into the side of a mountain. And if it was this obvious, why hadn’t someone found it before now?

“Unload my explosives!” a man who Mathew addressed as Benjamin yelled over the commotion.

“Explosives?” I blanched, turning to Benjamin and Mathew.

“I’m tired of waiting, Cali,” Mathew huffed. “You have five minutes to find me a way in before I start blasting.”

Benjamin smiled at me arrogantly, all the while continuing to stuff wicks into dynamite.

I hurried forward before these fools did something reckless, like blowing up a monument that had taken centuriesto find. I scanned the massive stone structure. The symbols were easy to read—years of sand and dust had already been meticulously cleared by other archaeologists. Shadows brushed across the ancient surface, casting eerie shapes that seemed to mock me.

I took a deep breath. I knew these symbols, and I refused to let those pigheaded men ruffle me.

I traced the rough stone with my fingertips, and a surge of excitement coursed through me as I read the forgotten language etched into its surface.

Mathew's sudden presence jolted me from my focused trance, causing me to startle slightly at the interruption.

"What is it?" His question pierced through my concentration, drawing my attention away from my work.

“Ancient petroglyphs,” I replied, trying to mask the annoyance tugging at my expression.

“Can you read them?” he asked, his curiosity evident despite the audacity of the question.

I pressed my wind-chapped lips into a thin line, leveling him with a look of pure aggravation. "I wouldn't be a very good archaeologist if I couldn't, now would I?" My retort held a touch of sarcasm, which I could tell he did not appreciate.

"The other archaeologists couldn’t," Mathew grumbled, his tone doubtful. “Well, what does it say?” he asked impatiently.

I stepped back so I could study the structure. It baffled me why the other archaeologist couldn’t read the words; they were so simple. “It’s a warning to anyone who enters. ‘Death comes on swift wings to whosoever disturbs thisresting place.’” I glanced up at Mathew. “I don’t think this is King Thalorian’s mines. This warning says it’s a resting place, but King Thalorian wasn’t buried in his mines.”

"Don't be so naive, Cali," Mathew countered dismissively. "They probably put that there just to throw us off."

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