TWENTY-THREE
From his perch atop a camel's back, safely wedged into the neck of a water bag, Philemon watched the three of them set up camp, like he had every night since he'd joined their small caravan. Haidar refilled their water supply and Asad built a fire and began to cook. Anahita sent her bird off hunting while she pitched the tent and carried their bedrolls into it, so that they might sleep comfortably. If they hadn't stopped at an oasis, Haidar would help her with the tent.
Anahita's eyes often followed the falcon's flight, while she wore a wistful expression, as if she wished she could fly with the diabolical bird.
For the first time, he wondered what her story was. He wished he'd spent less time talking and taken the time to ask her about herself. He knew she was an experie
