Fireworks: Riley by Liliana Hart Page A

sorting tents and the tomb itself. And away from the others on his team. He liked his privacy. And he liked facing in a direction that would allow him to see lights coming from outside—whether from cars or flashlights—and he liked his tent to be positioned so sound was directed toward him and not away. He was always careful. For good reason.
    “I’ve missed this,” Maggie said once they were inside the tent.
    He bent down to light one of the lanterns in the corner and looked back over his shoulder at his wife with a curious expression.
    “You’ve missed camping in the desert?” he asked.
    Her face was serious and he sat down to face her, unlacing his boots and putting them in the corner.
    “I’ve missed spending this time together with you. I feel like I owe you an apology.” She shrugged and he could see the tears in her eyes as she blinked and struggled to hold them back.
    “No, of course not,” he said, panicking at the sight of tears. “What would you have to apologize for?”
    “I know I’ve been different this past year. And that I’ve gotten harder to live with the longer we keep trying to have a baby and not succeeding. But last night while we were making love, I didn’t think of that once. It was only about being with you. And I realized how much I’ve missed you over the past year. That level of intimacy.”
    “Sweetheart. You don’t owe me an apology. I want a family as much as you do. And we’re a team on this. And you’ve only been a little crazy,” he said, lips twitching.
    She sniffed out a laugh and one of the tears slipped free. “We’re a team,” she said, nodding in agreement. “And I’ve come to realize that you’re the most important thing in my life. You’re my focus. The reason I want a child is because it would be an extension of who we are together. But if it’s not meant to be, then it’s not meant to be. I don’t want to live the rest of our lives like we have the last year. Filled with disappointment after disappointment when focusing on each other is what’s important.”
    “You want to stop trying?” he asked, more confused than ever.
    “No, of course not. But I realize a child is not the end all be all of our love. I want to enjoy every moment I have with you. And if we’re blessed with children then we’ll enjoy those moments when they come as well.”
    “Deal,” he said, smiling, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. She was his best friend and his partner. Her happiness was his, and vice versa. They’d work through this together, no matter what the outcome might be.
    “Now do you want to see this book in my pocket, or not?”
    “That’s not a pickup line I’ve ever heard before,” she laughed. “Very original.”
    “Thank you. I try.” He pulled the cloth wrapped book out of his pocket and laid it in his lap, unwrapping it carefully.
    Even in the dimness of the lantern light, the book shone with an unnatural glow. Maggie moved closer, so she sat beside him, and her finger trailed along the gilded edge.
    “It’s almost hot to the touch,” she whispered. “How odd.”
    Riley opened the book carefully, though the papyrus pages were perfectly preserved, the edges of each page coated with gold leaf. And inside the writing was precise and beautiful, as if a machine, or magic, had written the glyphs instead of the human hand.
    “It is warm.” It was almost like holding his hands over an open flame. Maggie’s hand rested beside his, each of them touching a corner of the outside of the book, and it was as if he could feel its power running through both of them in a continual loop. It was intoxicating. And he could see how when the words were spoken that it could bespell whoever possessed the book.
    With that in mind he closed it and wrapped it back in the cloth, sliding it inside his backpack. Almost immediately a chill filled the air, and Maggie shivered.
    “So weird,” she murmured, removing her own boots and then working at the