"This view is incredible,"

Harmony nodded in agreement.

They had been traveling southwest, deciding to move their camp now that Lane had healed well enough to travel without much discomfort. Along the way, Harmony spent a great amount of time showing him how to find water in the open desert, what plants indicated an underground spring, and which reeds were best to draw the water up. She pointed out what plants were dangerous to eat, and how to build a fire using only the materials on hand.

She had also taken pains to teach him to use the sling, which she thought was funny but did not attempt to explain why. He quickly mastered the skill, which impressed but did not surprise her. Though Lane had asked her repeatedly, she would not tell him any more about himself.

That morning found them overlooking a deep gorge that was over a hundred meters deep and well over fifteen kilometers long. There were sand domes, striated rock formations, and plenty of ochre-colored earth to make it a stunning habitation against the lush green flora. Tracing along the bottom of the gorge was a sparkling river that ran the entire length of the canyon, spreading out into pools here and there along the way. Looking straight down, just below them on the canyon floor was a green spot, covered in trees and brush.

"Garden of Eden," he murmured.

Unfamiliar with that phrase, she glanced at him. His shrug was faint.

"Long story, short version is it was lost forever, the perfect and most beautiful place in the world. I think it must have looked like this."

Come, us go there. At his nod, she began carefully descending along a narrow ledge that looked like a seldom-used path. He followed.

Flickers of movement darted here and there as they made their way, lizards sunning themselves disappearing with a flash. Graceful black and white Magpie Larks swooped about through the still air as they inspected the intruders. The pair's destination was a permanent waterhole with limpid pools that reflected the lush plant life, groves of cycads contrasting strikingly with the red sandstone cliffs.

Along the banks, pretty White-bellied Spinifex Pigeons dipped their beaks into the cool water. Lovely little birds boasting rusty-colored plumage blended them into the red soil, with striking white feathers along their bellies. A bright crimson facial patch around each eye with rings of black and grey circled stark red iris. They scattered as the humans approached, pinions squeaking like rusty hinges.

Dropping to his knees at the edge of the pool, Lane gratefully scooped water into his mouth. The sun was hot and without a breeze, the fresh water and shade from the cycads were welcome. Harmony knelt at the water's edge about a little bit away and splashed it across her face and the back of her neck. Only after cooling down did she sip water cupped in her hands. Their eyes met over the edge of her palms as she swallowed.

"What is this place?" He wanted to know.

Special, important, she replied, searching for the right words. They were still coming up with all the vocabulary she needed to express herself.

"A special place, how so?" settling back under the shade, he cautiously pillowed his hands behind his head, regarding her curiously.

No outsiders come here, only my people come.

Nodding in understanding, he considered that. Most cultures had someplace that they deemed sacred and resented trespassers there. Strange how he would know that, but he felt certain it was true.

"What about us being here?" He wanted to know. "Will that cause any problems?"

No. Her blank look made him feel she was holding back. If we good, no trouble.

"Good?" Lips quirking up in a grin, he shook his head. "I am not even certain who I am, so how can I promise that?"

You good. Her dry retort made him chuckle, the flat, patient expression in her vibrant lavender iris full of humor.

"Then I have little choice." A moment of easy silence passed, then he shifted. "Is this land sacred to your people? Your family, I mean?"

She froze, small droplets falling from rigid fingers as she held water in her mouth before swallowing. Carefully smoothing out the thin fabric of her shift, she avoided looking at him.

No.

"Is that where-?"

Tired. She cut him off, her gestures crisp. Rest now.

Studying her for a moment he decided to let it go. Harmony was an enigma. While mostly open and honest, friendly and compassionate, she held parts of herself back, denying him access. He knew absolutely nothing of her people, her past, where she was from, nothing. By pointedly refusing to answer his questions, he got the feeling she would not tell him, either.

That she liked him was obvious, as she slept at his side every night and was quick to smile when he woke in the morning. She did not avoid his touch, nor was she embarrassed by their frequent proximity. Everything about her spoke of intimate familiarity but she never referred to anything of the kind, and he felt it would be inappropriate to ask.

Eyes drifting closed, his body relaxed. Somewhere between dozing and wakefulness, a loud popping snap brought him to his feet, his heart thundering painfully. Dizzy from the abrupt movement, he expected danger to leap at him any moment.

From where she knelt, Harmony noticed his startled expression.

No worry. I get firewood.

An old, dried branch was in her hands. She had been breaking it into smaller sections to burn, the cracking wood what he had heard.

"It's fine," a queer trembling had set into his muscles, and he sat back down before he began to visibly shake. What was that about? A faint memory of thunder echoed in his mind- thunder? He frowned, bracing against a headache forming behind his eyes. Not thunder... musket fire? Like elusive mist, dim impressions of memory swirled just out of reach.

Rubbing a hand across the back of his neck he was suddenly chilled, the faint sound of muskets echoing in his ears, gunpowder burning his nose. Tendrils of truth shrouded in fog plagued his consciousness. The more he tried to force the thoughts into the open the fainter they became. Screams, blood, the scent of death-

Shivering, he scratched an itch on his shoulder, then paused. His flesh had a strange feel to it. Gingerly stripping off his tunic he leaned over the pool of water, careful not to disturb the surface. Reflected on the water, he could see scars tracked across his back, disappearing beneath the leather wrap. Marks of flogging? He couldn't remember.

Unhappy, but good. Harmony's expression was carved into his mind. For a flogging to leave behind marks like that, he could not have been just unhappy. To be whipped like that... he did not want to think about what actions might have lead to such punishment.

Staring into his eyes, he frowned again. Who are you? What are you capable of? Past his youth, a middle-aged man of about forty looked back at him. With a wide square jaw, a straight nose, clear bright eyes, and curly pale hair, he looked fit, vibrant, and healthy. A jagged scar cut across the bridge of his nose and left cheek, a wound healed after his beating. His beard was thick and full, but irritating in a hot, itchy way. He wondered if he had been clean-shaven or if he preferred a little facial hair. Leaning closer, his scowl darkened. Who are you!

A cool shadow touched his arm as Harmony settled at his side. Startled out of his reverie, he looked up. You alright?

"Fine, just thinking,"

When she took his face in her hands, a flash of heat rushed through him. Unconsciously, he leaned into her touch. Tenderly, her fingers brushed across his features, a light caress that sent a ripple across his skin as she stared into his eyes. Her thumbs lightly stroked his cheeks.

"What are you doing?" Gruff with surprise, he tried to hide the way his heart was slamming against his ribs. Slowly, her fingertips slid off his jaw.

You think behind you. You need think now. Time now, days now, you no see, she signed. You want man you were, you no happy. Man you are good. You good now. See? Feel? Good now. Feel happy now?

He could not tell if she was trying to convince him or assure him, but the implication was clear. She did not want him digging into his past. What he might discover could be worse than his current ignorance.

Skin tingling where she'd touched him, the distracting sensation pulled his attention from the nagging question of his identity. When her hand lifted as if to touch him again he caught it in his, holding her fingers gently. The look on her face seemed torn between hope and sadness. 

"Tell me something," he paused, hoping he was not wrong, hoping she would understand why he was asking. "You and I, were we...did we used to mean something to one another, something special?"

A thick veil dropped behind her eyes as she sat back, averting her gaze. His stomach clenched when she smoothly rose, but looked up when she paused briefly to look back at him. Soft pain rose in her eyes as her chin lifted.

Me and you... gone.

"What does that mean? I don't-"

Gone. The finality in her gesture dried up the words on his tongue. Lips quivering a little, Harmony stared at him for a moment longer before quickly turning and walking away.