Dara made four-hour stops everyday when the sun was at its hottest, and slept through most of it. He had promised two to three weeks and he intended to keep that promise. Fia didn’t know what to say to him anymore and he hadn’t felt obligated to talk to her since she came back, so apart from that one outburst, neither said much. On the bright side, unlike before where he was silent with a stone-cold face, now he was generally pleasant, even accommodating. Fia wasn’t sure if the bliss came from the dressing-down he gave her or if he simply enjoyed flying. He did seem extremely zen when airborne, as if he’d found his home.  

Flying itself had gotten easier for both of them after their first pit stop. Fia had asked if his arm hurt and after some contemplation and some light waving of the said arm, he’d said, “I’ll know when I can feel it again.” So, of course, they’d created a belt contraption to strap them together. Fia later asked why he never suggested carrying someone before, to which he looked extremely offended and only responded with “Because I’m not a horse!” She found it hilarious that in his grand plan to make an ass out of her, he ended up making a horse out of himself, harness and all. She silently laughed at the thought for a long time but felt it best not to share it with him.

It was clear this was his turf. He knew where to find food and water, and flew straight to shelters—carved out chambers in rock formations, some large enough to hold a concert, others fit for just two to three people. Their entrance were mere cracks, unnoticeable to the untrained eye, and most had supplies—coal, clothes, pots. Every night she fell asleep in his arms and jolted awake from a nightmare a couple of hours later. He was always looking ahead when she woke up, seemingly unaware that she was up or ever fell asleep. Usually at dawn, or soon after, some breathtaking sight awaited her. Animal herds, birds flying in formation, oases, predators hunting and one that never got old, sand waves matching the pattern on his elytra and crown; a pattern she’d hardly noticed before but found impossible to unsee now.

Around dawn on the sixth day, they flew over old ruins and stopped earlier than usual. The white-sand biome was five hours away and there was no other shelter ahead. They could rest longer, resume at midnight so they’d reach there at dawn and return the same day.

A couple of hours later, he replaced the slab of rock on top of the manmade oven outside the shelter. “It should be done by the evening.” 

They were having a plump lizard, slow-cooked in an earthen pot. She’d objected vehemently while he stalked it, but he said it was a herbivore and okay to consume. The skinned and prepped version helped convince her further. Now, the thought of it made her mouth water, though she wasn’t proud of it.

They returned to the dimly lit cavern, where Dara lay down to rest, sword beside him as usual, and she plopped herself a few feet away. Three earthen pots sat in a corner, alongside a couple of dull knives and fabric that had nearly disintegrated from age.

She leaned against the chamber wall and ran a hand over it, tracing the chiseled scars in the rock. They were ancient, possibly from even before her satchel. The supplies in it were, of course, much more recent.

There was a time when she had doubted that the satchel was millennia old as Raija had said, given that it was still usable. But having seen the other artefacts from Alpha, materials she’d never seen elsewhere in the Garden, she’d concluded that it probably was. The material just wasn’t natural. It had lasted, just as her body would long after she was dead. Just as Mikael’s had. She pushed the thought away.

Dara was still awake apparent by the raised knee. It would collapse in minutes. There was absolutely nothing for her to do while he slept, but the boredom wasn’t enough to put her to sleep, not anytime soon at least. But she had something to look forward to. Fresh meat.

“What’s on your mind?” Dara asked from beneath the robe that covered him head to hips.

She started. “Umm…I don’t know. Dinner?”  

He pulled the robe down and looked at her. “You’ve been quiet for a week.” 

She gave him a cheeky smile. “I’ve been served some humble pie. I have to be careful around you now.” 

“You don’t trust me?”

“You made a point to let me know I couldn’t.”

He turned on his side. “I lashed out, but I never put you in danger.”

“You lied.”

“Had I given you all the facts, wouldn’t you have chosen to still come with me?” 

“Yes, but it just goes to show what you’re capable of.” 

“You’re right.” He unsheathed his sword, held it beside him and closed his eyes.  

Fia’s hand shot to her saber. She looked around the cave for the threat. “What is it?”

“Just remembered your swordpoint at my neck. Better be safe, now that I know what you’re capable of.”  

“Haha, very funny. It’s not the same.”

He propped up on his elbow. “Sure it is. You were angry and you charged at me because you knew exactly how far you could go without actually hurting me.” He pointed to an already scabbed nick on his neck. “Almost.” 

“You did that to yourself.” 

He laughed softly as he sheathed his sword and tossed it aside. “The question you have to ask yourself is do you trust me enough to feel safe even when you know what I’m capable of.” 

“You saw my attack coming.”

“So I did.” He conceded. “Wake me up before sunset; we’ll go see silkworms. Since you’re here, you might as well.” He turned his back to her, pulled his robe over his head and fell asleep. 

Fia didn’t have to wake him up. He did so on his own and, as promised, took her to a cave filled with rainbow-coloured, inch-long caterpillars sticking to every inch of the moss-covered walls and ceiling. The floor of the cave was covered in fluffy white caccoons. The moths came to the cave to lay eggs; the caterpillars fed in the cave and left after metamorphosis, returning to lay eggs again. 

As the sun began to set, they returned to the shelter. The food was as good as she’d hoped. Stuffed full, they both lay down on opposite sides of the oven. The chill of the approaching night made the heat feel pleasant. Fia patted her satiated belly, smiled at the slowly emerging constellations and hummed, then sang, despite being tone-deaf. A minute in, anyone else would’ve asked her to shut up but Dara just lay quietly with one leg on the other, arms cradling his head.  

“What language was that?” he asked when the song ended.

“Urdu.” His silhouette turned toward her and she added, “Mikael wrote the lyrics, then translated for me. I just memorized it. It’s familiar—the language I mean. It’s like I almost know it but don’t.”

Dara nodded. “What’s the song about?”

“About a man in an existential crisis.”

“Mm, relatable.”

“Yeah. It used to remind me of Mikael. Now it’s just a memory, among many others.” She looked at him and chuckled. “I think one line would remind me of you now.”

“About the bat in the day sky?”

Fia propped up on her elbow. “No way! You understand Urdu?”

“At least some, it seems.” 

Fia nodded to herself. “Do you know if you’re from before my time or after?”

“Before. I don’t know how long though.”

She fell back down on the sand. “So is it a court habit, this ladies first thing?”

“Ladies first?”

“Like you open the door for us.”

“Oh… no, I didn’t open doors at court.” His chuckle sounded embarrassed. Later at night, Fia would remember he was a prince and feel like an idiot, but not now. “It’s just polite, but I suppose I am more insistent when it’s women. I picked it up from Sasha.”

“Who’s Sasha?”

“Pekka’s wife.”

“Pekka’s married?!”

“Was. She died. She had dragonfly-type wings and she was beautiful… strong despite being mortally wounded.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago. She used to hold doors open for me, so I started getting them for her, and she would light up when I did; told me only the best of men put others before them. I was young and she made me feel… worthy. It just became a habit after that.”

“It’s nice. Chivalrous.”

“Thank you… I suppose.”

She glanced at him, his dark frame a dull orange hue against the sparkly sky. “Dara.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Did you ever lie to me before?”

“Not really.” 

“But I know for a fact that you lied about some things.” 

“Sometimes it’s better to tell a white lie than to create intrigue by withholding the truth. Although, to be honest, I don’t remember telling you one.” 

“Nice spin. I’m in awe of your prowess; no woman stands a chance.” 

He laughed. “Are you accusing me of being a player? I thought you left the dirty work to Andrik.” 

“I’m not accusing you of anything; just stating a fact.”

“I may be a great liar, but what merit do I have over any other man when it comes to such matters? A woman blinded by love doesn’t need a master manipulator to be fooled.” He turned towards her. “For that matter, when it comes to the one who holds my heart, I find myself no better than the people I deceive so easily.” 

She couldn’t see much of his face nestled between his arms but still felt his gaze piercing into her. Blood rushed to her cheeks and she closed her eyes not believing she could still find him charming when he was clearly the worst in the world. “Shut up,” she said and instantly cursed in her head expecting him to accuse her of flattering herself but he just laughed softly and turned back to the sky. 

---

At dawn, Fia spotted white sand. A clear line stretched across the horizon, separating it from the golden dunes beneath them.

The dealer bug fed on the cacti that rose no more than a couple of feet from the sand. Their thick stems looked like rigid, wrung fabric. From the twisted stems rose broad spines of the same color. In some places, there was only one solitary cactus whereas in others, there was a cluster of them. Dara landed by a whole field, stretching out from where they stood to as far as she could see.

Dara stared at the plants grimly. “Don’t get bitten.”

They got to work with gloves and robes on. The dealer bugs looked like plump, black silverfish, easily spotted in the desert’s white sand and on the cacti’s earthy colours that ranged from pale to dark. They were able to collect about thirty of them in an hour.

Fia knelt down next to a cactus to search for more. She looked up at Dara crouching by another plant with one leg under him and the other bent to the side. He was facing the other way and his robe—its brocade glinting in the sun—was open and pushed back. The elytra were completely unnoticeable now under the layers of fabric, his muscled arms, not so much. She smiled to herself remembering how easily he picked her up. His lean frame made her forget how strong he was. The open robe veiled most of the rest of his body and she had to rely on memory to imagine a narrow waist, accentuated by his broad shoulders. What a pity, she thought. 

“Should I take the robe off?” he said. 

Fia froze, mortified, but not for long. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped. “Can’t I even look at you without you making a snide remark?” He swiveled around on his boot, lips barely curled, eyes laughing. “I don’t know if I should even be surprised anymore at how smug you are! Your robe was sparkling in the sun, so it caught my eye. I was not checking you out!”

He chuckled.

“How did you even know that I was looking?” 

“I didn’t. I just wasn’t sure if I could get bitten through the shirt.” 

Fia’s mouth fell open and Dara bit his lip to stifle a laugh. She wished the ground would open and swallow her. A tickle on her neck provided the perfect excuse to pretend she hadn’t just humiliated herself. She slapped the back of her neck and retrieved a squirming bug. 

Dara’s smile disappeared. He almost leapt to her side, slapped the bug from her hand and skewered it with his dagger. Then, flipped her around and inspected her neck. 

“Is it bad?” she asked, craning her neck to catch an impossible glimpse herself.  

“Not at all,” he lied and looked at her keenly as she turned to face him. 

“What?” 

A flattering smile graced his lips. “Let’s go to a nice spot and take a break.” 

She was still flustered and decided it best not to immediately climb in his arms. “Sure, but let’s walk.” She looked around. He stepped in front of her and she huffed. “What now?”

He took her hands in his. “I know the place, let me lead you.”

“You’re acting weird.”

He walked backwards away from the cacti, pulling her along. “Am I?” 

She narrowed her eyes at his fake earnestness. He pursed his lips and nodded compliance. Her eyes fluttered back to the surrounding desert. “It all looks the same. Where—” 

Dara jerked her forward, till her boots struck his and she had to lean on his hands to keep from smashing into him. She gave him a puzzled look.

He cocked his head. “I will take you there.” He took a step back allowing the space between them to swell back to a comfortable distance before tugging her along. “Have some faith.” 

Fia chuckled. “Faith in you? You ask too much of me.” 

A cheeky smile fluttered across his lips. “Just a little?”

Good God, why is he so cute, she thought. “Fine! The toxin doesn’t seem to be working though.”

“Who cares; you’re bitten; we have to take a break to be sure. I’m just being pragmatic.” 

“Yeah, right!” She shook her head, and looked away.  

“Hey! Don’t turn away!” 

“I’m—what’s gotten into you?”

“Let’s check if you’re clear-headed while we walk.” 

“How?”

“Tell me about yourself.” 

“Hmm, let’s see. I’m Safia JahanAara, born and raised in Pindi.” 

“Safia JahanAara is a nice name; did you ever tell anyone here your full name before?” 

“Just Raija when I came.” 

“I think if you told me, I would have never called you Fia.”

“My father named me.”

“Do you want me to call you Safia?” 

“I have two sisters, both older.” He laughed at the snub. “My oldest sister, Rabia—”

“Are you going to ignore me now?”

“—got married two years ago. Oh, I mean two years before I came here.” 

“You’re killing me, ignoring me like that.” 

“She is the artsy one.”

“Fia, can we just fly?”

“No.”

“Ok, let me take my robe off.” Fia’s eyes widened and she moved away with comic effect, still feeling a little embarrassed from earlier. He kept a straight face. “Can we please pretend it never happened? I’m just hot, and we have some way to go so I’m taking my robe off. Stay with me. I will lead you, okay?” 

Fia sighed and then continued as Dara pulled off his robe. “Okay, so my other sister, she works at this fancy company and gets paid too much for doing nothing. Her name is—” She went quiet. 

A ripple went through his eyes. “Rafia?” he offered with a teasing smile. 

She didn’t find it funny. “No. What’s her name?”

Dara bundled his robe under his arm and grabbed her hands again.  “Just come with me.” He pulled her forward and she let him, too preoccupied to resist. 

“I can’t remember her name. Why don’t I remember her name?”

“Fia, look at me. Rabia, your sister, she’s your older sister, right?” 

“I’m not as close to Rabia as her. What’s her name? Why can’t I remember it? She’s named after my grandmother, my mother named her. Amma… she is… what are my parents’ names?” Her eyes flicked around as her breathing became shallow. “Baba has three names; he didn’t use any of his names in ours. I have to remember his name. He’s my father.” Her steps slowed. 

Dara pulled her forward. “Just come with me.”

She pulled her hands away. “I CAN’T REMEMBER THEIR NAMES!!”.

Dara reached for her; she pushed him away and ran the other way.

“Fia, stop!” 

She collapsed, head spinning. Something caught her eye between her knees. It was moving! The sand was moving! She scrambled back. She was surrounded by millions of pale maggots squirming together on the ground. Thin layers of them clung to her shoes, clothes, hands, everything that touched the ground. 

“Come back!”

She screamed, kicking her hands and feet. She remembered she lay down on the desert floor earlier and screamed again, trying to shake them off her hair as she ran. But where could she go? They were surrounded by the sand. Dara caught her elbow. She knocked him away and ran without looking where she was headed. Her mind raced.  

It’s not just the language. All my memories are damaged. My family, Baba, Amma, they are slipping away. It’s not just Mikael, they are all disappearing. 

Tears rolled down her cheeks, stinging her sunburnt skin. She tripped. Her scream was caught in her throat as she stared at her hands buried in the squirming maggots. She pushed herself back, scrambling into the cactus field they had spent the last hour in. She froze. 

What is that?

The cactus had several maggots sticking to it at several spots and where there were more of them, the broad spines protruded.

“Damn it! Fia, look at me!”

That’s not a cactus! 

The spines were coming out of a twisted hand. Twisted within the hand she saw a gaped mouth and a pair of eyes staring back at her. 

It’s a girl. 

She screamed. 

Dara’s arms wrapped around her and lifted her off the ground. 

---

When Fia woke up, the sun was still not above them. She raised her head only slightly to look around. She was lying on her side. If not for Dara’s robe below her, the hot rock surface would sear her. It was a cluster of boulders jutting out of the white sand with a tall rock providing enough shade to make the heat bearable. She looked at the sand, still rippling.

It’s a facade, a smokescreen. My brain sees what they want me to see. It’s not sand, it’s not cacti. This world we see… It’s not real. None of it is real. 

She looked up. Dara was sitting some distance away, one foot tucked under him and an arm resting on his other knee. He was engrossed in carving a piece of wood with a small knife. A disturbing thought crossed Fia’s mind and she sat up. 

He glanced at her. “You’re up.”

She moved back slowly, not taking her eyes off him. 

He looked up at her and cocked his head. “Are you okay?” 

Fia recoiled at the concern. She figured he expected her to run so she surprised him by crawling up towards him. His gaze sharpened

She stopped, just short of his legs. “You’re not real.”

“What?” 

“You’re not real.” He didn’t back away. Good. She moved closer. Her gaze crept over his body, climbing up to his face. He gaped at her with knitted eyebrows. 

“What are the odds?” she said, eyeing him, looking for the one thing that would give him away. 

He shook his head. “Of what?” 

“Of you.” Her eyes trailed his jawline. “Namesake of the ill-fated royal that always intrigued me and yet conveniently not my direct ancestor.” She grabbed the dagger holster on his boot and pulled his leg up. He caught himself, planting his hands behind him, eyes wide. She inspected his leg from all angles, dropped it, felt his shin, turned the leg to one side and then the other, pulled his other leg straight and repeated, then pushed the legs aside and moved onto his stomach. Dara crawled backwards, pushing himself with his heels. She caught his gaze. He looked nervous, a contrast from his usual self.

He was almost backed up against the rocks behind him. She narrowed her eyes and lunged forward. As expected, he moved back till he was pressed against the rocks, then stopped. She grabbed his shoulder, felt his bones to make sure they existed, pulled him forward and looked behind. She felt along the length of his arm, then pressed against the side of his torso.

He twitched. “Fia.” 

She ignored him and reached for his other side and he tensed even before she touched him. She pressed harder. There was nothing. 

Fia cocked her head at him and exhaled slowly. His adam’s apple bobbed. She pushed his chin up and then down, traced his hairline and peered at his crown. It gave a dull vibration and the pincers opened up slightly then snapped shut. She narrowed her eyes. She pulled the collar of his robes to a side and pressed down on his collar bones. He pulled up his shoulders, pursed his lips and pushed her hands away. She peered into his eyes and he froze. 

“Everything looks fine,” she said and looked away. “You seem real.”

She figured he was not as honourable as a perfect prince charming either. She sighed and looked out at the desert. The sand was still squirming, but she felt less anxious with each passing second.  

She leaned forward on her hand to push herself up. Dara shrunk into himself and clutched his collar shut. Her mouth fell open and for an eternity that lasted a moment they just stared at each other. She had to say something to take away the awkwardness. “Don’t worry, I have no intention of stealing your virtue.” 

Dara looked at her with a wounded expression and scoffed. “Get away from me.” He turned his whole body away from her. 

She laughed. “Come on, Dara. We’ve lived through life and death experiences, we train together regularly. I didn’t expect you to be so bothered with me checking your joints.” 

“I thought you were going to run away again after I fail to convince you that I’m real. Do you know what this place can do to you? I imagined every worst-case scenario in the five minutes you poked and prodded me!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, my imagination got the best of me.” 

Dara just glared. 

“Come on,” Fia said, laughing, “you can feel all my bones if it’ll help you feel better.” Her eyes rounded. “Oh damn, that sounded terrible!” 

“I assure you, it felt just as bad!”

She grinned. “You should count your blessings. What if I actually found something wrong with you? I imagine it would be worse for you than me.” 

He gave her a look over his shoulder, then as if he’d decided she was a lost cause, he shook his head and laughed silently.  

“I’m sorry,” she said. 

He turned around to face her. “It’s okay.”

Fia’s face turned serious. “But I did learn something very important.” 

Dara bobbed his eyebrows. 

“You’re ticklish,” she said. 

“No, I’m not,” he said, decisively. 

“Yes, you are, Dara Shikoh, you are ticklish.” She pretended to move toward him and he sprang to his feet, jumping away from her. Fia fell on her side, laughing. “You are so ticklish!” 

Dara stifled a smile.  

She sat up. “By the way, were you threatening me with your pincers just now?”

His face turned unreadable for a second then melted into a mysterious smile. “I did consider a few options to keep you from running.”

“Oh, do tell!” She crossed her legs and rested her chin on her hand.  

“I could grab your collar with them or your hair.” 

“I suppose so, although I doubt the hair would work. But I think, and this is if I’m not the one you’re trying to stop, you can probably grab someone’s neck with them.”

Dara chuckled. “Just let me know when the effects wear off.” He sat down and resumed carving.

Fia nodded, leaned back on the rock she had pressed Dara against a few minutes ago and closed her eyes. She could remember her family’s names now. The toxin played with the mind, but only temporarily.

“Fia.”

“Hm?”

“Why is it convenient that I’m not your direct ancestor?” 

She kept her eyes firmly shut. “So I don’t kill off my own bloodline when I kill you.”

Dara chuckled and Fia fought the urge to smile. It suddenly occurred to her that the thing wrong with the man was in plain sight even without the toxin, snapping on top of his head and flapping on his back. She laughed internally at herself. 

Dara caught a small twitch at the corner of her mouth. He smiled and then continued to carve.