A Crook In The Sand

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

THE SALTED WIND SEEMED TO pinch and bite at Mazeeda’s cheeks as they got closer to the harbor. It was different from sanded wind; which would scratch and then caress underneath the heat of the sun. Salt was relentless, constantly going at her face under the clouded sky.

While the desert was humid with heat and sand, the sea air was filled with salt and algae. The Calipha could open her mouth and just taste it, making her mouth dry like sand. 

The sea and the desert are no different to themselves, she thought, rather, they could be distant cousins where one was abandoned and the other over nourished.

The only difference was that the harbor was filled with loud cacophonies, hurried people, and massive ships and cargo. In the desert, it was preferred silence over noise. Because noise meant death. There was no need for people to hurry, the endless stretch of sand seemed to make time disappear. Caravans were rare to come by since there was no need to move anywhere when sand is all you’ve known.

Mazeeda didn’t know if she liked or hated such a foreign place, she was leaning towards ‘curious.’

Sinbad was silently watching the queen take in the environment, his environment. Sure, she was accustomed to Khai’s environment, but he wanted Mazeeda to experience something entirely different than the constant visual of night and death. He took note of how her eyes were taking everything in, not really sure where to look nor if she should stop. 

“Come,” the voyager softly said into the wind, his voice getting carried away. “Perhaps on another day I’ll show you around the entire harbor. Today we are short on time and I only intended to check up on my ship.”

Mazeeda nodded, suddenly captivated by Sinbad. She had never seen him in his element, rather, she had seen him seamlessly fit into the environments of Zaabit, Khai, and Amon’s. She wondered if the three of them were comfortable in Sinbad’s just like he was with them. He was so versatile, adapting quickly to a given scenario. 

She nodded, falling back into stride with him. “Alright. I’ll hold you to what you said.”

“Of course.” He watched her short hair move with the sea breeze; Sinbad realized that it was beginning to grow out. He wondered if she would grow it back to its original length or keep it short. If she did decide to grow it out, the voyager knew that he would envy it. Gods, he would even pay her anything to have it if she was willing. “Now tell me, do you get sea sick easily?”

“I do not know,” she thought quizzically. “I suppose I do since I’ve never been off land.”

Zaabit’s brother barked out a laugh, his hands on his head and never losing stride. “That’s an old superstition that people die believing in.” 

“And you do not believe it?”

“Of course not.” He huffed, his chest puffing out. “Though I can’t hold it true to everyone. Some of my crew men still get sick to the stomach, some who are more experienced than me.”