A cave in the mountains on the western border between Rub'al Khali and Yemen.
The sound of the sirocco penetrated the rock of the cave in a distant howl, a wild animal trying to get in. The faint blue outlines of the radium field gave a ghastly pallor to those who stood too near, and only one small lamp burned near the back of the cave by the carvings. "May I join you?" Lord Ava asked, and sat down on a blanket, back against the cave wall, next to where Madeline was seated. "Interesting take your compatriots have on your Timbuktu expedition," he commented. "I understand a bit more now what you were trying to say about your sister and mother the other day. But I am a bit curious." He shifted slightly. "I understand people's unspoken language, as well as any other man I would say. And it was quite clear that they felt your sister was a form of evil incarnate. Yet you did not speak of her that way. I am curious, why?"
For a moment Madeline felt like she was swallowing some awful-tasting medicine. But the demon of her "medicinal flask" had been conquered and she now only had to deal with life as it really was. She smiled apologetically. "There is no logic to it, I know. I -- seem to have always wanted to think the best of people, to hope for redemption even when experience says otherwise. I still have trouble thinking of -- Abdul -- as the agelessly wicked ruler of Ad and Yemen. He was a polite lad without friends. But I know better, and I," she looked away and tried to keep her voice steady, "am terrified of being captured and taken back to Sanaa."
She sighed deeply. "So too with Desiré. I can not imagine how someone I hadn't even known existed most of my life could hate me so. Could callously arrange the deaths of so many men -- in-including Dr. Warring. And could not only wish to kill me, coldly, with malice aforethought; but actually, to all appearances, do the deed. We should be sisters! Instead -- instead, I must find a way to steal myself to kill her, if necessary and if opportunity arises, to prevent more unwonted destruction."
Again her apologetic smile, "One would think a doctor would have seen enough pain -- enough of the handiwork of illness, poverty, accident, and cruelty -- to be immune to the 'Great Why?' But I am not. I do not understand why someone would not try to reach for the best they can be, their noblest ideals, their happiest motives. Yes, we can rarely live in alt, but the trying seems to me the best way to eventually make the world better."
He nodded. "That's actually a good thing, you know. Trying to think the best of someone else puts you in their head, because they think the best of themselves. And yet you have to keep in mind that you may come to a deadly pass, and be prepared for that. A very difficult thing to master. Far too often people form snap judgements of other people. It prevents them from finding the best way forward." He shifted a bit on the rocky floor. "Have you ever considered a life in the Foreign Service?"
"You can laugh at me," Madeline smiled as she looked into his face, "but, until I met you, I think that I mostly thought Foreign Service was druids going and learning to talk with gods and Old Ones in other lands."
He was serious as he looked back into her eyes. "And I thought," he said softly, "that doctors were ugly old men."
She blushed at the compliment. "Thank you," she answered as softly. "Though you may not know it, you have convinced me that the Foreign Service must be one of the most interesting and outward-reaching careers possible for a noble mind. Would there truly be a place for a modern lady-doctor who does not read minds?"
She could see his eyes light up in the dim light, and a smile he could not conceal. "I believe so. I believe so very much. Perhaps, when we return to London, you would allow me to escort you to some social affairs with friends of my father? To see, ah, if you are indeed interested?" He reached out one hand, palm up. "And I would appreciate it very much if you would call me Terence."
Madeline lightly placed her hand in his and felt his warm fingers close around hers. "I believe I could -- Terence," she whispered, feeling much of the terror of the past slip away.
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