The sandstorm finally began to subside after dusk.

  The wind faded from a furious roar to a wounded wail. Dust that had filled the sky like a living mass slowly settled, and the outlines of the world returned, piece by piece.

  Amina led the three of them around several sloping ridges and into an area of exposed bedrock. There, tucked into the stone, was a natural cave. Its mouth faced north, set firmly against the wind. The entrance was narrow, but inside it opened like a shell—wide enough for a dozen people to sit.

  “Inside,” Amina said sharply.

  She tied the camel to a protruding rock spur outside the cave and entered last.

  The air inside was still hot and dry, but it was far better than the open desert. Erika leaned against the stone wall, drawing deep, uneven breaths. The green warmth of the jade pendant slowly receded inward, keeping her breathing from slipping out of control.

  Lucas was not so fortunate.

  His lips were cracked and bleeding, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead—clear signs of the early stages of heatstroke.

  Jabari set down his pack and studied Amina warily.

  “Who are you? And why were you out in the storm?”

  Amina removed her headscarf, revealing a face sharply carved by wind and sand, her skin darker than that of most Bedouins. Her expression remained calm.

  “My name is Amina. I guide Bedouin caravans,” she said evenly. “I lost my companions in the storm and had to find shelter on my own.”

  The explanation sounded casual, but a flicker of caution passed through her eyes.

  Lucas did not look convinced. Behind his glasses, his gaze was sharp.

  “A caravan guide? The hand signals you used at the wind mouth—ordinary traders don’t use those.”

  Amina did not answer directly. Instead, she lifted her water skin and handed it to them.

  “Believe me or not. If you don’t rehydrate, you won’t survive long.”

  Erika didn’t take it immediately.

  She turned and crouched beside Lucas, placing her fingers on his wrist. His pulse was floating and rapid, sweat trapped instead of venting—classic heat rising unchecked. Her brow tightened. She reached into her cloth pouch and withdrew several silver needles.

  “What are you doing?” Jabari asked tensely, his hand brushing the dagger hilt.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  “Saving him,” Erika replied calmly. “If heatstroke is left untreated, it damages the heart and lungs.”

  Amina raised an eyebrow in surprise.

  “You know acupuncture?”

  “I’ve learned a little,” Erika said, no longer looking up.

  Her hand trembled.

  Lucas’s face had gone pale, and sweat slid down her own temple as she steadied the needle. It nearly went off target. In that moment of panic, her grandmother’s voice seemed to echo in her ears:

  Erika inhaled slowly, calming the tremor in her fingers, and then placed the needle decisively. Qi flowed along the metal into the meridian, and Lucas’s breathing steadied slightly.

  After a quick sterilization, she inserted needles at Hegu and Quchi to vent heat, then gently at Neiguan and Dazhui to guide the circulation back, opening the surface and releasing the trapped heat. The silver needles vibrated faintly.

  The flush on Lucas’s face gradually faded, and his breathing evened out.

  A few minutes later, he let out a long breath, clarity returning to his eyes.

  “Much… better,” he said hoarsely. A faint glimmer passed across the runes in his lenses, as if they were recording her technique.

  Jabari watched, the tension in his brow easing slightly.

  “Looks like your grandmother’s skills really did pass on to you.”

  Erika removed the needles and wiped them clean, her tone serious.

  “It’s a small thing. But in the desert, it can save lives better than blades.”

  Silence followed.

  Then Amina spoke, her gaze probing.

  “You’re not ordinary travelers.”

  Lucas didn’t deny it. Instead, he countered,

  “And you? A caravan guide carries something like that?”

  His eyes fixed on the leather pouch at her waist. It looked ordinary, but emitted a faint energy ripple—like a stone dropped into still water.

  Amina’s hand instinctively pressed against the pouch. Her expression shifted. She gave a dry laugh.

  “It’s just a family charm.”

  “A charm that emits an energy field?” Lucas said coldly.

  The air tightened.

  Jabari’s dagger hilt clicked softly, ready to be drawn. Erika felt the jade pendant warm slightly, as if warning her that something unspoken lay here.

  Amina exhaled slowly and finally stopped concealing the truth. Her voice dropped.

  “If you can sense it, then I’ll tell you something. But remember—if I say the wrong word, I’ll die before any of you do.”

  She looked out toward the desert beyond the cave, her voice rasping like wind against stone.

  “Have you ever heard of the ?”

  The name struck the air like a driven nail.

  Erika’s heart sank, and the jade pendant jumped against her chest.

  Lucas narrowed his eyes.

  “Nightfall… so you connected to them.”

  Amina’s gaze darkened. After a long silence, she spoke again.

  “I’ve never dealt with them directly. But I’m searching for something. They’re searching for the same thing.”

  Her fingers brushed her pouch unconsciously.

  “If I don’t find it first, and it falls into their hands, the consequences will be unimaginable.”

  She looked at the three of them, her expression calm but assessing.

  “You might be able to help me. But before that, I need to be sure you’re not working for them.”

  Firelight flickered across the cave walls as the tension stretched tight with restraint.

  At last, Lucas removed his glasses and said evenly,

  “If we were Nightfall, you’d already be dead.”

  Amina stared at him, then finally let out a thin, ironic smile.

  “Good. Then I’ll believe you halfway. The rest—” her eyes sharpened, “—we’ll settle once we reach Cairo’s black market.”

  The cave fell silent, broken only by the wind outside.

  A new undercurrent was already beginning to rise.