Caleena

Fear cascaded down my spine along with beads of sweat as I stepped off the boat. The gangplank swayed beneath my feet, intensifying the queasiness in my stomach. Once I reached solid ground, I noticed a battered sign hanging on a small building declaring this to be the Port of Jalam. Bullet holes pockmarked the wall and sign. I'd known what I was getting myself into, but seeing the evidence of violence firsthand rattled me more than I'd expected.

"It's about time you showed up."

I closed my eyes, counting to ten before turning to face Mathew. I'd dreaded this reunion for years. I'd turned down every other job he'd approached me with, regardless of how empty my pockets were. But this time, I didn't have a choice. The museum had ordered me to go, making it clear that if I refused, I could kiss future job opportunities goodbye. Mathew had uncovered hieroglyphs and couldn't find anyone to read them, so he'd demanded the museum send me. They'd complied. If there was any chance he'd actually found the legendary mines of King Thalorian, they wanted their name attached to it. So, my choices were to go or lose my job. I wouldn't allow my repulsion of Mathew to take my job, so here I was.

I had clawed my way up in a field dominated by men, where even getting my degree was a struggle. Yet despite everything I'd achieved, the museum treated me like a glorified secretary. No matter how many artifacts I uncovered or degrees I earned, they saw me as someone to organize files and fetch coffee. I should be grateful they were finally giving me this opportunity. But the fear that swelled within my chest at the thought of dealing with Mathew again made it hard to feel gratitude.

I collected my emotions before they burst from me, plastered on my best fake smile, and turned to greet him. My heart soared into my throat when I realized how close he had stalked while I gathered my fleeting courage.

Mathew reached up to touch my face. "You look lovely. Why is it you've refused to work with me for three years? Are you avoiding me?"

I slapped his hand away, the contact of our skin sending a fresh wave of nausea through my already seasick stomach. Bile burned the back of my throat as I silently prayed that I'd spew my sparse lunch all over his polished shoes. "Yes," I hissed through clenched teeth.

Mathew's smile deepened as he leaned in closer. "Come now," he coaxed. "Don't be like that. You really shouldn't hold grudges." His tone was teasing, but the glint in his eyes suggested he knew exactly why I was avoiding him.

"There you are! I was starting to get worried." My best friend's voice was like a beacon in this never-ending nightmare known as Mathew.

Mathew stepped back as Malik not-so-subtly shoved his way between Mathew and me.

"I'll speak to you later," Mathew promised as he headed toward the parked vehicle at the entrance of the port. Once he was out of sight, the tension gathering between my shoulder blades uncoiled.

Malik looped a lazy arm across my shoulders, pulling me close to his side. "You want me to bust him again?"

At his words, I straightened, squaring my shoulders. "I hope that won't be necessary." I forced a smile I hoped was convincing.

"Well, if he tries anything again, I'll snap him like a twig," Malik assured me as he took my bag.

The air was scorching and dry, with temperatures soaring under the relentless midday sun as we made our way through the port. I wiped the perspiration from my brow as the sun's fiery rays danced across the sand, creating mirages in the distance. Malik led me to a Ford Model A that looked worse for wear. The once-shiny paint had faded under the harsh sun, and chips of it flaked off with every gust of wind. The tires were cracked and worn, and seemed like they might crumble to pieces beneath us if we dared to get in. Malik shrugged innocently when he caught my horrified expression, as if to say this was the best we could hope for out here.

A baggage boy rushed up behind us and roughly threw my worn canvas bag into the trunk.

"Please be careful with that!" I gasped as I rushed forward, gripping the bag tightly to my chest.

"You still have that awful thing?" Mathew groaned from the driver's seat, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. "Just chuck it. I have all new supplies being delivered to the dig site."

"This was my father's," I said, barely above a whisper. "Not that sentiment could ever mean anything to you."

Malik's dark eyes glistened with concern as he pushed the small of my back and ushered me into the backseat of the car, blessedly putting as much distance between Mathew and me as possible.

I was grateful for Malik and his big-brother protective nature. Ever since I'd started working at the museum, he had been my best friend, always looking out for me. If it hadn't been for him, that late night in the museum when Mathew had cornered me could have turned out much worse.

Dread coiled tightly in my chest at the memory of that horrid night. I was accustomed to the disrespect of male staff, enduring their relentless catcalls and whistles, but what Mathew had done was unspeakable. He'd tried to force himself on me, and he might have succeeded if Malik hadn't intervened.

Familiar panic clawed at my throat, making it difficult to breathe in the already stuffy car. Even though Mathew hadn't succeeded in his assault, the damage was done. Fear had become my constant companion, and every time I closed my eyes at night, I relived the attack in my nightmares.

I had reported him to my boss, but wealth like Mathew's bought silence. He had everyone in his back pocket, leaving me in constant terror that he might attack me again and no one would care.

Mathew rambled on about his exploits, emphasizing how much I'd missed out on by refusing to work with him, but I tuned him out. He didn't seem like he noticed anyway. The scenery distracted me from my mounting panic. I loved traveling, but unfortunately, after being hired by the museum, my world had shrunk to the size of a small office with no windows. I breathed in the heavenly smell of the date palms and frankincense trees while being mesmerized by the swirling golden sand as it formed ever-shifting dunes. A thrill shot through me at the thought of what awaited us beneath those years of shifting sands—nearly a thousand years of history, to be exact. The mines of King Thalorian had been lost for over ten centuries, an entire piece of history wiped from existence.

"I believe we have found the entrance to King Thalorian's mines." Mathew's voice drew me back in, and I angled my head toward him, never daring to meet his smug gaze. "We just can't get in it, and your friend here"—Mathew shoved an accusing finger in Malik's direction—"won't let me blast it."

A smile crept across my face. Malik was one of the best conservators I had ever seen, restoring ancient pieces to nearly new condition. I had no doubt in my mind that he pitched a fit at the mere mention of blasting a relic.

"What do you know of King Thalorian, Cali?" Mathew asked, his gaze finding mine in the rearview mirror.

Disgust bubbled up inside of me. Cali was a demeaning nickname Mathew had bestowed upon me when we first met, and now I loathed it even more.

I swallowed past my parched throat. "King Thalorian was the king of Jalam before the Atenite overthrew him. He was famous for his wisdom and wealth."

"And that is what we are after. His wealth," Mathew interrupted my short history lesson, allowing his greed to leak into the car.

"Perhaps wisdom is what you should seek. Wealth gained hastily will dwindle." My eyes finally rose to meet his cold blue ones, a silent warning in my words, which he ignored.

The weight of gold that King Thalorian received yearly was said to be over 600 talents, making him one of the richest kings to have ever ruled Jalam. If Mathew truly had found the lost mines, there was no telling the amount of wealth hidden within.

The rest of the ride to the dig site was thankfully quiet. Mathew swerved off the dirt road, stopping at the entrance. My eyes widened at the spread of tents and vehicles and the commotion of people buzzing around the camp. Mathew always felt the need to flaunt his family's money by spending an unnecessary amount on any little treasure he may have stumbled upon.

"This is a little obsessive," I mumbled in awe as Mathew threw the gear shift into park.

Mathew turned in his seat, throwing an egotistical smirk in my direction. "Nothing but the best for me."

I rolled my eyes as I climbed out of the car.

Mathew was by my side before I even had a chance to close the car door. "I've taken the liberty of ensuring your tent was next to mine. You can never be too careful with all of these dirty workers running around. I want you to feel safe."

Fear gripped my throat, threatening to close off my air supply. Safe was the opposite of how I felt at the moment. I didn't want to be on the same continent as him, let alone in a tent right beside him.

"Aw, sorry, boss. I wish you'd mentioned that sooner," Malik interrupted smoothly, tucking me protectively into the crook of his arm. "When I heard Cal was coming, I moved her tent next to mine. Figured it had to be a mistake, seeing as you don't usually like to be anywhere near us common folk."

Mathew's face darkened, his jaw tightening as he stepped forward, anger radiating from him. "Who gave you the authority to do that?" His voice was low, like a barely contained growl.

Malik didn't back down, squaring his shoulders and meeting Mathew's glare with unflinching calm. My heart pounded in my chest as all the blood drained from my face. "Just trying to help, boss."

Another worker I didn't recognize rushed forward. "Boss, we need you in the main tent!" he called, glancing nervously between Mathew and Malik.

Mathew hesitated, his eyes narrowing at Malik before turning away. "I'll deal with you later," he promised before striding off toward the main tent.

The tension in my gut uncoiled as Mathew disappeared from sight. "I can't believe you did that," I said, glancing up at Malik.

"I got you. You know that." Malik ushered me through the of the camp.

I couldn't resist smiling when I saw he'd set our tents up under a few date palms, far away from the other tents. "This is perfect."

"You better hurry and get cleaned up. The boss isn't going to wait before he starts barking orders and herding everyone to the dig site." Malik ducked into his tent, and I did the same.

I parted the canvas tent flap, pleasantly surprised by the spacious interior. One perk of working for a millionaire with extravagant tastes was the nice sleeping arrangements. The canvas walls of the tent provided a barrier against the harsh desert winds while still allowing the occasional breeze to blow through the seams. The sandy floor was covered with an intricately woven rug, and a pitcher of water awaited me beside a basin.

As I approached the basin stand, I caught sight of my reflection in the small oval mirror and was disgusted by what I saw. Mathew had said I looked lovely, but what I saw was anything but. Sprigs of my unruly dark hair had escaped the bun I'd twisted it into early this morning, and my eyes were stained with fatigue. I dipped my fingers into the water, expecting it to be cool and refreshing. It wasn't. The temperature of the water almost rivaled the smoldering heat of the day. I splashed it on my face anyway to wash off a layer of dust.

"Excuse me," a voice interrupted.

I spun around, blinking rapidly to clear the water from my eyes. Standing at the entrance of the tent was a boy who couldn't have been more than twelve years old.

"Yes?" I replied, gesturing for him to come closer.

"I have your bags." He smiled sheepishly, extending them for me to see.

"Thank you. You can set them down there."

The boy rushed forward to do my bidding, carefully placing my bags on the cot.

"What's your name?" I asked before he had a chance to slip back out of the tent.

He stared up at me with eyes the color of rich, dark earth. "Hassan, madam," he said softly. As he turned to leave, he paused, glancing back at me. "Can I get you something?"

"A glass of cool water would be nice," I replied, and a huge grin spread across his face before he hurried out of the tent.

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 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 King Thalorian'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 petroglyphs?"

"Hieroglyphics," 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?