Page 162 of New Storm Rising
Karim opened his mouth. “Definite—”
“And do remember I’m married to the man who pays your salary.”
“—ly not.”
I patted his camel’s hump. “Good boy.”
Karim’s bushy eyebrows twitched. “Is it just my misconception, or are you praising the camel instead of me?”
“Whatever gave you that idea?”
And, with a last cheerful wink, I turned back around and spurred on my mount to catch up with Mr Ambrose, whistling once again.
***
Now that I was back to top form, I was rather more aware of my surroundings than before. For one, I was aware that there was more to my surroundings than the vomit-spattered ground. For the first day or two, I simply enjoyed the scenery—but then I slowly started to notice something. Eyes narrowed, I gazed back at the horizon behind us.
“Mrs Ambrose?” Slowing down his mount, Mr Ambrose let his camel fall in step beside me. His cold gaze swept the horizon where I myself was looking. “Is something wrong?”
I nodded. “The dust on the horizon.”
His eyes narrowed infinitesimally. “There is no dust on the horizon.”
“That’s the point. We’re being pursued by desperados, right? Thereshouldbe dust on the horizon. Unless someone has invented hoofless horses.”
“They have not. Seeing as they would need no horse shoes, I would immediately have bought some.”
“Mr Ambrose?”
“Yes?”
“When we’re back home and start furnishing our house,I’ll be the one who does the shopping.”
“We shall see, Mrs Ambrose.”
Over the next few days, the suspicious lack of dust behind us persisted. And even though Mr Ambrose’s expression remained stoic and stony as ever, I could feel his icy gaze sweep over the horizon again and again. He had taken my words seriously. Something was definitely up.
And it wasn’t too long before we found out what exactly.
“Whoa!” Raising a hand at the head of the convoy, Mr Ambrose brought everyone to a halt.
“What is it?” I asked, spurring Ambrose Junior to his side.
“Look there.”
Following his outstretched finger with my gaze, I saw the distant rocky wall rising high into the sky. In the centre, there was a slim, shadowy gap, as if a bored god had taken a meat cleaver to the landscape.
“A canyon?” I raised an eyebrow. “What about it?”
“Not the canyon. Lookthere.”
I squinted, and this time I saw it. In the shadow of the rock wall, at the entrance of the canyon, there was a small oasis with a clear pool of water. And stationed around the pool…
I cursed.
“Stinking pile of camel shit!”
To go through the Eye of a Needle
