ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Evy's heart jumped into her throat as she glanced around the familiar camp. One tent in particular pulled at her with magnetic force. She didn't want to look, but found she had no choice. Her head was turning, her eyes were opening, she was looking, and there was nothing she could do to stop herself. A scream of frustration rose up her throat as she felt her feet moving her forward. SHE DIDN'T WANT TO GO IN! She didn't want to see him die, again, or see him blind and helpless, or see the horrible anguish that had been on his face when he'd held the dead child in his arms - but her hand was reaching forward to push aside the tent flap. She was going in...looking around...seeing Ardeth...he was...

Evy nearly jolted out of her seat as a hand touched her, waking her from her nightmare. Her eyes flying open, she started at the sight of an Abadi women crouched in front of her, gesturing for quiet. Disoriented, Evy's brow furrowed, and the woman gestured toward Rick, still sleeping peacefully in the neighboring seat. Evy nodded and closed her eyes. Settling back against headrest, she tried to force away the tension leftover from the nightmare.

"Are you all right?" the woman asked, in a soft whisper.

"Zaynab?" Evy questioned, opening her eyes again.

The Abadi ducked her head in a slight bow. "Yes, it is I."

"Um, yes. I'm fine," Evy smiled appreciatively the Abadi. "I was...it was just an unpleasant dream."

"You wish to speak of it?" Zaynab inquired, supportively.

"No. It was silly," Evy answered, shaking her head. "I'm fine, really."

Zaynab nodded and, hesitantly, returned to her seat across the aisle. Noticing the Abadi continued glancing her direction, Evy smiled, reassuringly, then, reached into her lap for the journal. Flipping it opened, she skimmed to where she'd left off. There was a new date, telling her time has passed between entries, but Evy'd long since stopped keeping track of the days. Ignoring it, she read on.

"I know not how to react. It seems just as I have come to accept that Ardeth's sight would not return; there are signs that it does. Badi'a noticed before I, during one of their many short walks together. I was not easily convinced of the truth of it, for there is but the slightest change in my nephew's behavior. But as I walked with them this afternoon, I saw subtle signs that he again perceives at least light and motion. To eliminate any doubt, I asked my nephew, and Ardeth confirmed with the slightest of nods that is the case. I do not understand why he made no attempt to communicate this good news to us. Perhaps it is because the gain is so slight and his discouragement so great, that he cannot see the enormity of his progress. I pray to Allah for guidance in choosing the right words of council to raise his spirits."

Torn between anger at Dabir and relief in the journal Ardeth's improvement, Evy trembled, slightly. Closing her eyes, she took a couple deep breaths to settle herself. About to open them again, Evy hesitated. Everything was still so uncertain; she felt reluctant to risk reading more, at least for the moment. It seemed that every time the situation appeared to be improving, the next entry sent it spiraling downward again.

Closing the journal, Evy decided to enjoy the good news for bit, before discovering what new hardship awaited the journal Ardeth. Tucking the journal away, she glanced around for something else with which to occupy her time. Her eyes fell on Zaynab, quietly writing...something; Evy couldn't tell what. Lazily watching the Abadi, a sudden realization struck her and flew out her mouth before she could stop it.

"Zaynab, I've noticed that you seem to speak for your people; I would've expected Muhannad or ...that other fellow to do so."

"He is Samih," the Abadi politely informed her.

"Samih, then. Its normal among your people for the women to speak, instead of the men?" Evy prompted.

"Yes, this is the way of the Abadi."

"Why...um, I mean, how...," Evy stammered, not quite able to form her question.

"The Abadi are a matriarchal tribe," Zaynab explained, patiently.

"A matriarchy?!" Evy's brow furrowed. The Abadi nodded. "That's rather unusual amongst desert people, isn't it?"

"Perhaps," Zaynab replied, noncommittally, and attempted to return to her writing. However, she could feel the Englishwoman staring curiously at her and, sighing, realized she would have to explain. Najat had instructed that the O'Connells not be told of the weapons' curse, unless no other alternative could be found, so Zaynab hoped the short version of the story would satisfy Evy.

"My people have not always been thus."

"Oh..." Sensing an imminent story, Evy turned sideway in her seat and made herself comfortable.

"In ancient times, my people were as most of the tribes of the desert. It was so until the time of the Devourer."

"The Devourer?" Evy echoed, intrigued. "He sounds like an unpleasant sort of fellow."

"Indeed," Zaynab replied, with a soft chuckle. "He was a very 'unpleasant fellow' from a far away land that sought to conquer the many tribes of the desert. To accomplish his task, he brought with him two weapons blessed with the power of his gods: a broadsword and a dagger."

"A broadsword and a dagger?" Evy echoed, a nervous knot tying itself in her stomach. Zaynab simply nodded and continued on.

"The power of these weapons allowed the 'fellow' to devour the soul of each victim he killed with them, and with each soul, he grew more powerful."

"Hence...the Devourer," Evy interrupted. Zaynab nodded, politely.

"It was not long before no army could stand against him. The Devourer swept across the land claiming the wealth of the tribes he encountered, as well as, women to satisfy his bodily desires. However, this could have been endured were it not for the many human sacrifices he required. For he always desired more souls upon which to feed. Many tribes fled deeper into the desert, but one young king would not see the land of his ancestors stolen from his people. Nor, as many of his people were among the Devourer's victims, could he allow the souls of those devoured to forever be denied their place in Paradise. Determined to stop the Devourer, the king turned to his priests, who told him he must inflict a mortal wound upon the Devourer, with the Devourer's own weapons."

"But if the Devourer couldn't be defeated, how was he to get the weapons?" Evy quizzed, impatiently. Engrossed in the tale, the nervous knot in her stomach dissipated.

"To separate the man from his weapons, the king sent to the Devourer, as a gift, his sister, for she was exceedingly beautiful," Zaynab answered.

"He gave him his sister?!"

"Indeed," Zaynab confirmed.

"B...but," Evy stammered, appalled.

"It was not without great consideration that the king did this. No way other way could be found to get near enough to do what had to be done, for the Devourer would not think a woman to be a threat to one so powerful," the Abadi assured. Evy nodded, although she continued to frown. "The priest provided the princess powerful herbs which would make the Devourer sleep for many hours, although they would have killed all other men."

"So the princess slips it into his drink or something before he has his way with her," Evy speculated. Zaynab nodded.

"As his emissary delivered his gift, the young king of the Abadi disguised himself as one of Devourer's warriors and entered the camp unnoticed. Once the Devourer slept, the princess admitted the king into the tent. Claiming the weapons, the young king pierced the heart of the Devourer, killing him. Their task accomplished, brother and sister secreted away, weapons in hand. The Devourer's army awoke in the morning to find their leader dead, but they had little time to mourn their general, for king, wielding the weapons, had returned with his army. The warriors of the Devourer knew of the weapons' power and fled in terror."

"But what about the weapons' power? Wouldn't the king have devoured the Devourer's soul?" Evy questioned, her brow furrowing.

"Indeed. And with it, all the souls that the Devourer had taken," Zaynab clarified.

"So he did devour it."

"Yes, to his great misfortune," the Abadi confirmed. "For once allowed to a drink of the sweet nectar of power, it is difficult to resist the temptation to drink again."

Evy raised a bemused eyebrow.

"You see, the power of the devoured souls coursed through the young king. Having tasted of it, he found he craved more. Yielding to temptation, he executed the many captured warriors of the Devourer with the weapons, claiming their souls. His own soul corrupted, the young king sought ever more souls to feed upon."

"So the people are back where they'd started," Evy quipped.

"Sadly, that is correct."

"So, who stopped the king?" Evy quizzed, certain that someone must have.

"His sister turned to the priest, seeking a way to stop her brother. She was given the same advice the king had received. Her heart filled with grief, she carried out what had to be, wielding the weapons in her own hands."

"But wait," Evy interrupted. "Would that just start it all over again?"

"Indeed, as the young king died in her arms, the power of all the devoured souls coursed through her. Frightened that she would become as he was, the princess mortally wounded herself with the Devourer's dagger."

"Ah, by killing herself, no one else could absorb the souls," Evy presumed.

"This was the plan, yes," Zaynab responded. "But as the weapon sought to fulfill its duty, her departing soul was devoured by her dying body."

"She couldn't die!"

"She could not die by her own hand," Zaynab clarified.

"So what did she do?" Evy queried, enraptured.

"The princess called for the priests, who prayed to the ancient gods. They were given an amulet which would capture the princess's soul, allowing her body to die and all the devoured souls to find their proper place in the hereafter."

"Surely, there's a catch. The ancient gods never let anyone off that easily," Evy quipped.

"There was 'a catch', as your say," Zaynab replied, a hint of amusement in her voice, but she quickly grew serious, again. "For the princess's soul could not travel onto Paradise. Instead, it was to remain trapped within the amulet for all time, standing guard over the power of the weapons."

"Oooh! The poor thing...," Evy whispered, mournfully.

"The princess, it is said, does not begrudge this duty, but embraces the opportunity to redeem her family and her people," Zaynab assured, then added, "because she was able to resist the corruption of her soul, and the king was not, their sister was chosen to lead the Abadi in the wake of their deaths."

"And your people have remained matriarchal ever since," Evy concluded.

"We have," the Abadi confirmed and turned returned to writing, hoping the Englishwoman would let the subject drop. Not noticing, Evy's brow furrowed as she mulled over the story.

"Redeem her family how? What exactly is it that she does?"

Zaynab hesitated.

"Oh, please, you can't leave me hanging now," Evy whined. The Abadi sighed, realizing the Englishwoman wasn't going to let it go.

"She frees the souls of any who are devoured," she explained, evasively.

"Frees them? How?"

Again, Zaynab hesitated, then, reluctantly answered, "by destroying the soul of the one that has devoured it."

"Thank you for telling me," Evy offered, politely, sensing she pried all the information she could from the Abadi. Zaynab bowed, slightly, and returned to her letter, as Evy righted herself in her seat. The nervous knot in her stomach returned as she continued to ponder the story. Deciding to distract herself from it, Evy opened the journal and glanced down.

"Allah be praised! Once again, I see enough light in my nephew's eyes to believe he truly sees once more, but any joy from this is dampened by the increasing despair I see in him. It matters not that he does not speak. I do not need words to know he is certain in his conviction that he has failed Dabir. Both Badi'a and I remind him that he grows a little stronger each day. He even begins to walk on his own, although not far. Still, each shaky step is another small gain. But he gains so very slowly, it is difficult for my nephew to belief, as Badi'a and I do with certainty, that he will again be what he was. Dabir's determined absence does not help convince Ardeth of the truth of my words. More and more, my brother depends on Fathi. It is easy to look through Ardeth's eyes and sees that he believes his father no longer considers him worthy to be his son. How could he see otherwise? Dabir not only refuses to see him, my brother will not even speak his name. But I take heart that our people do not turn their backs on my nephew. They still remember his strength when all seemed lost and continue to pray for its return."

Evy breathed an audible sigh of relief; the situation had not worsened, as expected. Catching a movement out of the corner of her eye, she glanced up at Zaynab. Having heard the sigh, the Abadi watched her, with concern in her eyes.

"Just reading," Evy reassured. Grinning, she showed Zaynab the journal in her hand. "The hero didn't die, afterall..."

Although the Abadi didn't respond visibly, Evy got the definite impression that Zaynab was shrugging 'on the inside' as she turned her attention back to her letter. Chuckling as she glanced back down, Evy heard Rick stir restlessly. After he'd slept sounding for so many hours, it surprised her a little. Instinctively, she closed the journal and snuggled against him. Closing her eyes, she quickly slipped into a light sleep.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Ardeth moaned softly in his sleep as the plane descended, hitting bumping air on its way. Glancing over, Alex watched the Medjai shift uncomfortably in his seat. Deciding he must be awake, despite his tightly closed eyes, Alex opened his mouth to try to soothe the warrior. Before he could speak, Najat appeared, shushing him as she knelt in front of Ardeth.

"How's he doing?" Alex asked, anxiously, watching Najat quickly bathe Ardeth with a damp cloth.

"It will be good when we are on the ground and his needs can be better tended," the Abadi replied, evasively. Alex raised an eyebrow as she slipped a hand into one of Ardeth's, apparently intending to stay where she was, instead of returning to her seat.

"The landing will be rough," Najat explained, briefly glancing up at the child.

Alex nodded and, following her lead, took Ardeth's other hand. He winced slightly at the pressure the warrior exerted as the plane's wheels bumped onto the runaway. It was almost enough to distract him from the Medjai's pained gasps.

"We'll be stopped soon," Alex soothed, as Ardeth opened his eyes. It took several seconds for the Medjai to compose himself enough to speak.

"Insha'alla," he finally managed to gasp out, an instant before the plane screeched to a final halt. Abruptly dropping the child's hand, Ardeth dug his finger into the armrest and held his breath through the final forward lurch. He let it out in a long, slow sigh of relief as the plane sat still, at last.

"Rest," Najat instructed, compassionately, rising when the door of the plane opened.

As she let go of his hand, Ardeth draped it across the nearly melted ice pack still partially resting against his wound and closed his eyes. Feeling Alex reclaim his free hand, the warrior cracked his eyes open and gave the child a weak smile.

"All will be well soon, young O'Connell. Do not worry," he whispered, breathlessly.

Alex returned a concerned smile as Ardeth's eyes closed again. Twisting slightly in his seat, he watched Najat and Johari carry a large wrapped bundle from the plane. It took him several seconds to realize it contained the weapons.

"Feels good to be back on the ground, eh, Alex?" Jonathan quipped, disrupting his nephew's thoughts.

"Yeah."

Jonathan resisted the urge to sigh as his nephew's attention returned to Ardeth. Despite what they were going to do to him, he wished Rick and Evy were with them. It seemed less and less likely that Ardeth would recover, and Alex was going to take it hard if he didn't. Jonathan hoped his sister had caught up to them by then.

"You are ready?" Najat inquired, startling both Alex and Jonathan. Focused on Ardeth, they hadn't noticed her come back aboard. "My apologies..."

"Yeah, we're ready, eh, Alex?" Jonathan glanced down at his nephew and smiled.

"Ardeth...?" the Abadi asked, shifting her gaze. Both Jonathan and Alex followed and saw that the Medjai's eyes were open again. Ardeth nodded, and Najat made a gesture with her hand, bringing Johari forward to the Medjai from his seat. Giving him another quick glance, she sighed, snatched the melted ice pack from beneath his robe, and backed out of the way. Jonathan hovered over his nephew, ready to help as soon as he could maneuver close enough.

"Alex."

Alex glanced over to see Najat wiggling her fingers at him and realized he was in the way. Reluctantly releasing Ardeth's hand, he scrambled over to her.

"You'll be back at his side soon," she assured, taking his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Yes, ma'am." Alex smiled, tightly, and gazed back at Ardeth. He grimaced as the warrior's face contorted with pain when Jonathan and Johari pulled him from his seat. Biting his lip and clenching his fists, the Medjai didn't make a sound as they trio moved toward the open door, but the pain remained visible in his expression. Following behind with Najat, Alex held her hand tighter, wishing they were at the hotel all ready, so that Ardeth didn't have to move anymore.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Alex breathed a sigh of relief as Jonathan and Johari laid Ardeth on the small bed. Although there was barely enough room, he crawled up and snuggled next to the Medjai, provoking a weak smile from Ardeth.

As Johari moved away from the bed to take up his usual post by the door, Najat took his place. Glancing over, Jonathan noticed she'd already mixed a fresh dose of herbs for the Medjai. She bowed, in acknowledgment of the Englishman's stare, before moving toward Ardeth.

"Ardeth," she whispered. He reluctantly opened his eyes and looked at her. Seeing the cup in her hand, he started to prop himself up a little, but Najat stopped him with a gently hand on his chest. "Do not. You must save your strength."

Ardeth nodded, very slightly, and allowed her to lift his head enough to drink.

"Shukran, sadiqi."

She bowed and set the cup on the nightstand. Turning back toward Ardeth, she carefully pulled open his robe, revealing his bandages. Seeing Najat frowned, Jonathan followed her gaze down to Ardeth's abdominal wound. Blood trickled from beneath the well-soaked bandage covering it.

"Ardeth, old by, you might have mentioned you were bleeding again," Jonathan quipped, trying to mask his concern as Alex worriedly poked his head up.

"There seemed little point," the Medjai responded, matter-of-factly. Jonathan swallowed hard as he caught the finality in Ardeth's tone.

"Nonsense, old boy," he managed to choke out, offering a reassuring smile as he patted the Medjai's hand. He nervously watched as Najat removed the bloodied bandage and noticed that the swelling had decreased. "At least the ice seems to be helping."

"Indeed." Jonathan glanced up as Najat spoke and saw her extending an ice bucket his direction. "If it would not be too much trouble..."

"Oh, right, of course, back in a jiff," Jonathan stammered, snatching the ice bucket and rushing away.

"Do not be concerned, Alex," Najat soothed, as the child continued to stared anxiously at the wound. Grabbing a cloth from the basin next to her, she gently swirled it across the Medjai's flesh. "It is good that the swelling has decreased enough for the wound to bleed again."

Alex nodded, skeptically.

"Do not be alarmed, Alex," Ardeth whispered weakly. "I am fine."

Alex nodded again, tearfully, and snuggled back up against the Medjai.

"I must leave you for moment," Najat announced, placing the cloth back into the basin, before laying a fresh one across the wound and another across Ardeth's forehead. His eyes had begun to close, but snapped back open to look at her. Giving her a quick nod, he let them close again.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

"Alex," Najat whispered, softly caressing the child's cheek.

"Mmmm...huh," he responded, sleepily, sitting up and rubbing his bleary eyes.

"You should eat. There is food for you in the other room."

Alex glanced at Najat and smiled, realizing she'd removed her burqa, again. The Abadi returned the smile.

"Ah, I thought that might please you. Now, go eat with your uncle."

Alex glanced down at the Medjai sleeping next to him.

"Ardeth Bey will still be here when you have finished."

Alex nodded and reluctantly climbed down from the bed. With several backwards glances, he wandered into the adjoining room. Seeing Jonathan sitting at a small table, eating a bowl of a soupy something-or-other, Alex sat down across from him. The aroma from whatever it was wafted up as Jonathan slid a bowl over to him, and Alex abruptly realized he was starving. Wholeheartedly diving into the bowl, he didn't even bother to figure out what he was eating.

Pleased, Najat smiled, as she watched. The child had eaten almost nothing while in her care, causing her concern. It also pleased her that he was distracted, leaving her to focus fully on Ardeth while she tended the Medjai. Carefully, Najat removed the cloth covering his wound and dribbled an herbal mixture into it. Ardeth's eyes flew open. His hand reflexively moving toward the pain, he clamped onto her wrist and pulled it away.

"Shh," Najat soothed. "Now that the wound has opened up enough to allow it, it must be cleansed."

Not quite awake as he appeared, Ardeth resisted her attempts to free her wrist. Seeing the fog of sleep still in his eyes, she ceased her struggle and waited for him to gain coherency.

"Najat?" he finally croaked, after nearly a full minute. Glancing up with still slightly bleary eyes, Ardeth noticed she was again uncovered.

"I am sorry to disturb you, but this must be tended," the Abadi insisted, with maternal patience.

Finally awake enough to comprehend why she was causing him pain, Ardeth simply nodded and released her wrist. He made no attempt to stifle a hiss as Najat cleansed the injury. Pausing to wipe away the diluted blood that was running down his side and soaking the mattress, she studied the now open wound, as more blood trickled from it.

"The bleeding grows worse," she announced, and Ardeth tensed, guessing what she was leading up to. "It should be re-stitched."

"No!" Ardeth gasped, unwilling to entertain the thought of enduring the painful procedure yet again. "It matters little. I am unlikely to bleed to death before we reach our destination."

Seeing the anguish in his eyes, Najat sighed and reluctantly nodded. "As you wish."

Frowning, she laid an herb-soaked cloth across the wound and reach into the basin for a fresh water-soaked cloth. Laying it across his forehead, she reached for another. Swirling it around lightly, Najat soothingly bathed Ardeth's feverish skin.

"Thank you," Ardeth whispered, seeing she'd relented, for the moment at least. She nodded, and he closed his eyes, enjoying her soft touch, but the tension remained in his muscles. Seeing it, Najat began to hum softly. Ardeth smiled a little, recognizing the melody. As a child, his mother had often sung him to sleep with the same tune. It didn't take long for it to work its magic. The tension oozing from him, Ardeth slipped into a pleasant dream.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

"How's he doing?"

Najat glanced up and smiled, patiently, as Alex crawled back up beside Ardeth. The Medjai tossed restlessly as the shifting of weight jostled the mattress.

"He is sleeping," she replied, intentionally vague, and returned to humming, hoping to settled the Medjai before he woke.

Hovering in the doorway between the rooms, Jonathan noticed the diluted bloodstain slowly spreading across the bedsheet beneath Ardeth. It confirmed what he'd already felt certain of - that Ardeth wasn't getting any better. Sighing mournfully, he glanced up at Najat. She looked tired - but of course she would be, tending to the lot of them all day. Watching her replace the damp cloth across Ardeth's forehead, Jonathan realized, with dismay, that she likely had a long night ahead of her still. He shook his head, wishing he could help, but knowing that was unlikely.

"Is his fever any better," Alex inquired, glancing at Najat. She stopped humming and turned to rewet the cloth in her hand. Turning back, she met the child's eyes.

"It is not," she answered, simply, and glanced back down at Ardeth, again swirling the cool cloth across his heated flesh. Frowning, Alex sighed and reached for the warrior's hand.

"Do not fret, child. Now that he is settled more comfortable, he will be able to get proper rest and gather strength."

Alex frowned, skeptically. As the child looked at her as though he were going to ask her something else, Jonathan caught a despairing look flash across Najat's face and realized there was something he could do to help.

"Alex."

"Yeah, Uncle Jon." He twisted around to look at his uncle.

"How about another game?" Jonathan fished the deck of cards from his jacket pocket and held them up. Alex glanced at them and, then, down at Ardeth. "Come on now, your not going to make me play with Johari again, are you? Have a little mercy on your poor old uncle?"

Alex smirked, but gave no indication he intended to leave the Medjai's side.

"You will be but a few feet away," Najat added, glancing up at Jonathan and giving him an appreciative smile. She was weary enough without having to split her attention between Alex and Ardeth.

"All right," Alex finally agreed. Still slightly reluctant, he studied the Medjai for a few seconds longer before hopping down from the bed to join his uncle in the other room. Breathing a sigh of relief, Najat carefully changed the herb-soaked cloth covering the wound and returned to bathing the Medjai with cool water.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ