© Jennifer R. Milward 2006

This story is a work of fiction. Lara Croft, her likeness, and the Tomb Raider games are all copyright of EIDOS Interactive. There is no challenge to these copyrights intended by this story, as it is a non-sanctioned, unofficial work of the author's own.

Part VI

Although the eating area was crowded, no one else spoke or even looked at me – a small blessing, but a welcome one. The last thing I wanted was to fend off further conversation.

Once the meal was over, I was left pretty much to myself. Fields needed tending and animals had to be fed. No one noticed me slip casually behind the beehive-shaped bakery and along the south wall.

"Lara! Over here." Salieah appeared from behind a stack of barrels and gestured for me to follow.

We worked our way down a narrow, half-blocked passageway, keeping the perimeter wall to our right. I kept my eyes focused on Salieah's billowing headscarf. At last she halted, and drew my head close to hers as she whispered.

"Please stay quiet, or you'll startle her."

The mystery was solved when we rounded the next corner. We had come to a small cul-de-sac between the wall and one of the granaries, that was shaded from the midday sun by old canvases. Lying on the ground, next to a bowl of water and hobbled to a ring in the wall, was a baby gazelle.

Its nostrils flared as Salieah offered her hand. To my utter surprise, it recognised her scent and relaxed, allowing itself to be cuddled while Salieah dipped her finger in milk for it to suckle.

"Her name's Takaza," she explained softly. "After the necklace my mother used to wear. She's so pretty I thought it'd be perfect."

"She's beautiful," I murmured. She was barely the size of a large cat, her ruffled fur a soft, milky beige. Her enormous eyes quivered, wary of my stranger's presence, and Salieah stroked her long, rabbit-like ears to soothe her.

"I found her just before you came here," said Salieah. "I think the last camel train must have frightened her mother away. Omar said she wouldn't survive and that I was wasting time caring for her. But I couldn't just leave her alone out there."

Having finished the milk, Takaza nibbled affectionately at Salieah's fingers. The little girl giggled, her face warmed by a grin of pure delight.

"Promise me you'll keep her a secret, Lara," she whispered. "Akide would be furious if he knew I was stealing milk for her."

"I promise."

Could I possibly have said anything else?

I returned to digging the well, thoughtful and with a soft glow inside from seeing child and animal together. It was a welcome change from the other feelings that had plagued me since coming here.

A strange peace descended on the village – and myself. For nearly two weeks, I lived the Tuareg routine, losing myself in the struggle of desert life. Akide tolerated my company on his daily rounds of the village animals, checking for worn hooves or broken teeth, and tending each creature with silent respect.

I saw little of Omar and nothing of Putai, for which I was eternally thankful. Salieah was my constant companion, always there to instruct me in an unfamiliar task or sit and listen to stories about far off lands.

"I still don't believe you about Atlantis," she teased, late one evening. "Pyramids are made of stone. They're not alive! And monsters don't exist. Not real ones. Omar said the only monsters are the ones we create for ourselves."

I decided to remain silent on that point.

On the thirteenth day of my stay, Putai came to see me. She was strangely subdued, as if fearing to make me storm off again.

"I came to ask your forgiveness, Lara," she began. I was cutting wood for kindling, hacking and splitting the stout branches with a curved axe Omar had loaned me. Her voice was punctuated with the rhythmic swishing and cracking. "I pushed you too far too soon that night. I am sorry."

"You took your time deciding to say so," I remarked blandly. "What were you waiting for?"

"A sign," swish-crack! "A sign that the Gods had forgiven me," swish-crack! "I was very arrogant, thinking that I could heal you," swish-crack! "I know now that it was wrong of me to try."

I paused, and leaned on the long axe handle. This was not the sort of speech I had expected. "That's very… noble of you, Putai. But why the sudden change? I thought you had committed yourself to being my 'spiritual guide'?"

"And I am. But a sign came to me last night, and I realised that I am not the one to teach you what you need to know, and my own experience can only go far to heal you."

"Then who – or what – can?" In a blaze of irritation, I swept the axe down. The head almost disappeared into the soft wood. "I have had enough of your mysticism, Putai! No more promises, no more half-truths. I've given up trying to understand your riddles. Just tell me what I have to do!"

"Ah, finally you start asking questions! Excellent, Lara. You are starting to make progress at last," she beamed, standing and brushing the sand off her robes. "Come to me at the well, at dawn tomorrow, and we shall see if you are ready to begin your journey."

And without another word, she bowed and departed.

Just when I thought I had worked Putai out, she still had the power to surprise me.

It was Salieah's misfortune to be the only person in the village with whom I felt comfortable enough to talk to. She sat listening with mute politeness during the evening meal while I went over the Putai's latest statement. Although I'm normally obsessive about keeping my personal feelings to myself, I desperately felt the need to confide in someone just then.

"And then she has the audacity to say that only now I'm ready to begin!" I scoffed, pausing to take a swig of mint water. "She's been playing games with me from day one. I won't be used, Salieah. She can keep her mystic revelations to herself. I'm leaving tomorrow."

"But you can't!" Salieah cried, spilling her drink. She tried to take my arm, but I tactfully pulled away. "Lara, please! I thought we were friends! You can't leave!"

"Salieah, I would be leaving anyway," I told her gently. "This isn't my home. You've been a great friend, but I can't let that woman manipulate me. I have to go."

"I'm not afraid of you leaving," she said, suddenly quite calm. "I knew you'd be leaving us soon to go back to England. That's not why I'm sad.

"I'm sad because you're not ready to leave yet. Putai's the shaman, but even I can see you're not complete. You've been hurt badly by something, and I'd never feel happy about you going if we... if she... could still help you. And Putai can still help. I know she's a sour old bag sometimes, but she's been my friend all my life. I trust her."

"I know she's your friend, but that doesn't change my decision. If I can't be healed, I'll just have to find a way to live with it. Trust doesn't come easily when you've seen the things I've seen, Salieah."

"I know," she whispered, hanging her head. She took a deep breath. "Then if you won't go for yourself, go for me. I- I want to see you better. Please? I couldn't bear it if you just left without trying. You never gave up on your other adventures, did you?"

I felt my heart loosen just a little. She was right; this would be the first time ever I backed down from a challenge – the first time I gave up because it was too difficult. Her eyes shone with un-shed tears, proud and frightened at the same time. If I gave up now, I wouldn't just be letting myself down, I would be letting her down as well.

I fought with my pride, but one look at Salieah told me I'd already lost.

"All right," I said. "If it means that much to you, I'll do it. Just watch me. I won't disappoint either of us."

She nodded, and enveloped me in an awkward hug. My emotional compass, usually so stable, swung drunkenly from affection, embarrassment and unease.

I patted her head restlessly.

What the hell was I letting myself in for?