Page 52 of Bound By Wishes

Sorrow pinched my chest as I dropped my hands to my sides and drew closer to the memorial. Next to the cross was a collection of my belongings—an old brass compass tarnished from years of use, a weathered journal with my sketches and notes, and a faded photograph of me and Malik in the field on our first dig. Surrounding these mementos were a few sprigs of dried purple desert roses, withered with the passage of time under the relentless sun. My heart broke all over again at the pain he must have endured in my absence. I couldn't imagine what he had been through. I would be a useless puddle of emotions if I ever lost him.

I walked back to his tent, using the sleeve of my cloak to dry my misty eyes before untying the flap and stepping inside. A small lantern flickered softly on a makeshiftnightstand. The gentle glow revealed Malik’s form on a cot beneath a thick blanket, pulled up to his chin.

I walked over to the cot and crouched beside him with a tender smile on my lips. Gently, I ran my fingertips in a featherlight touch across his dark skin, my hand brushing against unexpected scruff along his jaw. He had always been clean-shaven, and the coarse stubble surprised me.

“Malik?” I leaned in closer to him, easing the hood of the cloak from my head so he could tell it was me. He stirred, but his eyes remained closed. “Malik?” I called again, shaking him gently until his eyelids fluttered open. His gaze locked with mine, and I smiled. “Hi.”

Malik yelped in surprise, bounding from the bed. The blanket tangled around his legs, tripping him up and sending him crashing to the ground. I leaped onto him, using all my weight to pin him down. I pressed my hand firmly over his mouth, my heart pounding as I tried to muffle any more screams.

“Malik, it’s me,” I hissed, trying to keep him from tossing me off.

“Cal?” His breath was warm and shaky against my hand, and he stilled. I eased my hand away from his mouth, but the moment he caught sight of me, he let out a panicked scream, “It’s a ghost!” he wailed. I slammed my hand back over his mouth, desperate to keep him quiet.

“Since when do we believe in ghosts?” I scoffed at his outburst.

I pondered the irony of my question. Since when did we believe in genies or evil beings like the Nightshade? Maybe ghosts weren’t entirely out of the question anymore. Theboundaries of what I considered real had shifted so much lately.

“Calm down,” I demanded. “I’m going to remove my hand. Do you promise not to yell?”

Malik nodded once, and I slowly pulled my hand away. I slid off him, sitting on the rug that lined the tent beside him.

Malik pushed himself up, his eyes wide with disbelief as they locked onto me. “Cal? Is that really you?” he asked in disbelief.

“No. I’m a ghost, and I’ve come to haunt you for the rest of your days. Booooo,” I said, trying to lighten the mood with a playful ghostly wail.

“Don’t you play with me right now,” he scolded. “I’m pretty sure my soul just left my body.” He clutched his chest, and I couldn’t help but smile at his antics.

“I missed you,” I whispered as tears threatened my eyes again. I threw my arms around his neck, pulling him close.

Malik returned my hug, his arms tightening around my waist. “Wait!” he gasped, pushing me away. “Where have you been? We’ve turned that stupid cave upside down looking for your body, and now you’re just going to waltz in here all innocent, like nothing’s happened?”

“It’s a long story,” I warned.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Where am I going to go?” He motioned around the tent.

“How long have I been gone?” I asked, still scarcely believing he was sitting before me.

“Almost two years,” he said skeptically, like I should know that.

“Two years?” I gasped, pressing my hands to my temples as I struggled to comprehend it. “Why are you still here?”

“Mathew’s convinced that King Thalorian’s mines are here, and you know how stubborn he is,” Malik explained. “He’s not leaving until he finds them, and as long as he’s throwing money at the museum, they’re more than happy to keep us stuck in this scorching wasteland.”

“Well, I’m just glad you’re still here, because I need your help.” I forced a sweet smile.

One of his brows arched. “Help with what, exactly?”

I inhaled deeply and started to tell him everything that had happened to me from the time I fell through the hole in the cave to my daring escape across the desert to get to him. And how all of this had only happened over a few weeks in the kingdom of Jalam. I did, however, purposely leave out my growing attraction to a certain genie and a kiss that made my body feel like it was ablaze, but other than that, I told him everything.

Malik reached up, brushing his hand across my forehead. “Genies? A Nightshade mummy?” He paused. “Cal, I think you might have hit your head and are delusional. How many fingers do you see?” he asked, his tone filled with skepticism as he held up his hand in front of me.

“Three,” I said, pushing his hand away. “And I am not delusional.”

I stood and carefully removed my cloak, letting it fall to the ground. Beneath it were the fine clothes I’d put on that morning, though they were now dirty and torn from everything that had happened. Despite their condition, their elegance spoke for itself.

Malik’s eyes widened as his gaze ran down the off-the-shoulder crop top and high-waisted harem pants, both in a vibrant red.

“Cal,” he said, shuffling to his feet. “This is unbelievable. I would say I wished all of this was a dream, but I don’t want to wake up and find out that you were never here.”

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