Liyah's breath hitched in her throat. The sandy desert stretched for miles and miles, without end. She looked at the two in front of her with an exasperated expression etched on her face, "Tell me this gets easier."
Rayan smirked, "Careful, habibti...
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Chapter 20 | Alf Leyla Wa Leyla II for this is a beautiful night of love, worth a thousand and one nights more
RAYAN WIPED HIS FOREHEAD WITH THE BACK OF HIS HAND AS TINY BEADS OF SWEAT TRICKLED FROM HIS HAIRLINE. He focused his eyes on a shelf of journals and records, before he settled on moving on to the next shelf.
The search was hopeless.
After looking through the last book of the tribe's detailed shift to a more secluded area of the Almasahri desert, Rayan whistled for the girl to look up, "Leyla, what does this book even look like?"
She brushed away the waves tickling her jaw, before she spoke, "Teita said dark; Zuleika confirmed midnight blue. Although, it is rumored to be more of a handwritten journal than a book."
"Handwritten?" He picked up another book, "By whom?"
Liyah nonchalantly handed the boy an ancient-looking journal, before she uttered, "Umm Shaheera."
His motion faltered at the mention of his birth mother's name. A rush of hot rage surged through the boy's veins. He wanted no part in Liyah's mission if it meant finding his grandmother's journal. He did not wish to involve himself in such matters, especially if it concerned entries of his mother's past life. She was as good as dead to the boy...but still, he couldn't help but ask, "Which Shaheera?"
"Uhhh...are there more Shaheeras?" She furrowed her brows with much uncertainty.
Impatient, Rayan flicked her arm,"Just answer my question, please."
"Khalifa Aamir's Shaheera." She said, not bothering to retaliate.
What?
"W-what did you say?" Rayan felt the air being sucked out of his lungs by her confession. His hands fumbled to find her wrists as he rushed to where the girl stood transfixed. Shoving a blue journal out of her hands, he hastily dragged her away from the books and towards the arch of the entrance.
The boy wanted to scream out of pure frustration at the blatant disregard and recklessness of her plan, "MalikaShaheera? Are you insane, Liyah? Ya Allah! Is this girl truly magnuna?"
"Rayan!" She gasped, struggling against his grip, "Let go! What is wrong with you?"
"La! What is wrong with you?" He stopped, almost wanting to shake the insanity out of the young girl, "Her mother's journal of ancient folklore is the most renowned piece of literature in all of Almasahra. We could be hanged by the tribe of the Fifth Star for stealing that original manuscript. Do you want a death wish, Liyah?"
"We're not stealing, okay. We're borrowing." The girl huffed, "besides, I thought that you people did anything to fulfill your prophecies– even faking your own suicides!"
