The streets and the people, I noticed, had changed as there was no modern vehicle on the road, and I realized that I needed a disguise to blend myself in among the locals lest I aroused suspicion for being an outsider in their realm. Dylan took me to a small shop in the back alley and asked the shop owner, a middle-aged lady, for the traditional Moroccan dresses for me. The woman smiled at me, and she showed me around her shop to choose a dress. The lady helped me pick a dress, and I went to the changing room with a black silk Kaftan which came with a belt and had golden embroidery on the neckline.

When I came out of the changing room, I saw that Dylan had also done the same for himself. He used a headscarf to half cover his face that added depth to his amber eyes. He resembled one of those Desert princes from the Oriental Romance who had stepped out of the novel. I shook off the thought and looked around the shop again for the accessories. I picked a black face veil to go with the dress and asked Dylan if it looked okay since he was familiar with the local custom.

He looked at me in a thought before reaching for my braid and removed the hair tie.

“You should wear your hair loose.” The veil had thankfully concealed the blush on my cheeks, and I turned away from him, pretending to be interested in the jewelry than looking at him.

We paid the shop owner and left the shop to find the silverware market. However, instead of going to the main market to look for the dagger, he took a turn to right and walked us through the narrow alley to a small parlor between the shops which happened to be a gambling den. A Moorish man guarding the entrance door stopped us and asked us for our identities before entering the place. I looked at Dylan in nervousness, but he chuckled and answered the man.

“I’m Haroush, and this is lad—", he paused before continuing, “This is lady Kandicha.”

My eyes went wide in surprise, and I snapped my head towards him, totally flabbergasted.

‘Did he really name me after that demoness?’ I glared at him, but took a deep inhale to keep my composure.

“Haven’t seen her before here.” The Moorish guy eyed me suspiciously. I knew that I couldn’t let Dylan handle him in my stead, so I stepped closer to the Moor and looked him dead in eye to assert dominance.

“If not for business with your Master, I would not have bothered coming to this shabby place of yours.” I threatened and exchanged a look with Dylan who seemed bemused.

I gestured him to pay the man some money, and he pulled out a small pouch of silver coins, placing it right in the Moor’s hand.

“My lady here isn’t good with her patience.” He told the man. The Moor weighed the pouch in his hand and let us enter. I walked past him maintaining poise, and Dylan followed me behind as an attendant.

“That was some good acting back then.” He said, suppressing his laughter.

“Well, If I’m going to be stuck with you, I must start putting on some good performances too.”

I retorted while scanning the gambling hall. This place was full of the pirates, gamblers and the bounty hunters, and I wondered why of all places Dylan had to come to such a nefarious place.

“The Barbary privateers and the seamen come here to sell the antiques and stolen items for a good load. This gambling house operates as a black market, so the dagger might as well be here.” Dylan explained.

However, surrounded by the looters and the gamblers who put human lives at stake, demand ransom, or worse, killing them for bounty did not suddenly seem like a good idea, so I wanted to leave.

“We’re getting out of here.” I turned to leave, but a hand on my arm stopped me. “It’s our only chance to find that dagger.” He pleaded.

“We don’t know even what does it look like!” I tired to reason with him, but he was confident about finding it.

“I will find it myself.” He counter-argued. “All you have to do is stay and play along” He looked at me as if understanding my concern and said, “I promise, I will protect you.”

I closed my eyes to calm my nerves. I knew that he would protect me. There’s no doubt about it that he had been doing it ever since he met me on the train. In the end, I reluctantly agreed to his request. Besides, I could not return to my world without his help either.

There was a big gambling table in the middle of the room, and the men were placing all sorts of bets to get the money or the item they had wanted.

“We want to play.” I interrupted their game which earned us a moment of complete silence. “And who you might be?” The banker present there asked, and Dylan answered him for me.

“This is lady Kandicha, and I’m her attendant.”

“What are you looking for here?” That person asked me again.

“I want to see the owner.” I stated curtly, and the man narrowed his eyes at me. “It is a dagger we are looking for.”

Dylan had told me beforehand that all the valuable items and information pass through the owner. Therefore, we would have to see him first if we were to look for the dagger in this place.

“So, which one of you is actually playing?” He questioned us, and Dylan stepped forward as a volunteer.

 “I assume that you’re then familiar with the rules here. If  you win, I will  let you cut one of my finger, and see the owner, but if you lose, you will pay with your hand.” The man told him.

“This is insane!” I protested in horror, Dylan he shook his head and asked me not to intercede for him.

“The information and the items exchanged in the gambling house are more valuable than life Coming here meant you already what is at the stakes.”  The banker told us.

I stood aside and watched the game between them unfold before me. The rules were simple. The shooter threw three dice, and the player had to guess whether the sum of three dice was a big or small number. It’s similar to Chinese gambling game Sic-Bo, Hi-Lo where the players place bets on either sum of high number between 11-17 or small number between 4-10.

However, they changed the game’s rule and decided on total three rounds with five rolls each where the last throw would determine the fate of the player regardless of his previous wins. The odd number of the throws made this gambling even more difficult, as none of the parties would end up in a draw.

The banker also decided to the dice shooter and put three dice in a cup, shaking them before slamming the cup upside down on the table.

“Big number or small?” He asked Dylan who smirked back at him and confidently said, “It’s a small number.”  The shooter removed the cup letting others see the dice as we won the first bet.

 Dylan continued to play, and several onlookers placed their bets on them. Then, the second round started. The shooter threw the dice on the table again and asked for the number which Dylan guessed wrong. As I watched his moves, I realized that the shooter had changed the position of the dice with a slight of his hand and that’s how he was winning the round. He had been tricking us from get go, making us guess the number first and then swiftly would change the dice position without anyone noticing it. He had cunningly planned to claim the game in the end and never intended to let us win since the start.

“He is cheating.” I whispered to Dylan whose expressions told me that he had already known about it.

“How about you let me throw the dice now?” Dylan spoke earning  protests at the table. “You have been winning in a row. How would we know that you haven’t cheated.”

“I wouldn’t do such thing.” The man deflected the accusation glaring at us before passing he dice to Dylan. The third round began, and I grew tense when Dylan shook the cup and threw the dice on the table.

The banker won again, but for the next three rolls, he became confused when he kept losing. Then, he realized that Dylan had used the same trick against him.

“You are messing up with the dice!” The banker accused him in anger and was about to throw in a hand, when I intervened to stop him from starting a fight.

“How about I do the last roll?” I offered and picked the dice from the table. The banker could have chosen his man as a shooter which would have been our liability. I looked at Dylan, and he nodded back in assurance. I violently shook the cup and threw the dice on the table while silently praying to the heavens to let us win.

“Big or small?” I asked. “Big”

I removed the cup, and faltered back in surprise upon seeing the number. It’s a small number.  Shouts and hollers broke around the table when we lost the game and the banker arrogantly put his leg on the table relishing in his victory.

“Ready to lose your hand, young man?” Two men grabbed Dylan by his shoulders and pushed him on the table, placing his hand on it.

“You can’t do it!” I protested, but he gave me a death glare. “Rules are rules, lady. You agreed to them yourself before the game.”  He reminded me.

“What about money?” I offered him. “How much do you need to let him go?”

“You don’t call the shots here, woman. It is Hachim’s turf.”

I looked at Dylan in helplessness and blamed myself for making him lose at gambling. I tried to help him but ended up making things worse for him.

The man pulled out his knife from the belt and  was to bring it down to cut Dylan’s hand when a voice made him stop.

“What is going on here, Najd?” A tall Algerian man came out of the back room and inquired his people about the sudden ruckus inside the gambling house. The man had an intimidating stature; broad shoulders and sharp features with eagle eyes and had a beard on his face.

 He was Hachim, the owner of the place.

“Lord, this man has lost in gambling, but this woman is refusing to pay according to the rule.”

The man explained to him, but Hachim dismissed him with his hand and ordered his men to let go of Dylan.

It was then my eyes fell to his waist and saw a dagger tucked inside the belt at his side. It was a curved one with a red gemstone on it, and I realized this must be the dagger Dylan had been looking for.

“I’ll play another round with you, but if you lose this time, you will lose your hands.” The man warned, but Dylan had something else up on his sleeve.

“How about I raise the wager to make the gambling interesting? If I win, I will have your dagger and if I loose, you can have my head.”

“This—”,  I tried to interrupt Dylan in horror but stopped when I saw him glowering at Hachim. The man had narrowed his eyes at the mention of the dagger but agreed to Dylan’s request.

 It’s a dangerous game. I did not want Dylan to gamble with his life, but I figured that he must have a plan of his own for suggesting it.

Hachim took the dice and shook them before placing the cup in front of Dylan and asked him whether the number was big or small, but not matter how Dylan guessed, he lost to Hachim.

Dylan never stood a chance to win against him.

“All debts must be settled as promised.” His men grabbed Dylan and pushed his head on the table.

Najd took out his knife and pressed it against Dylan’s neck, but his mouth widened in a grin. Dylan twisted himself free, knocking the knife away from Najd’s hand and kicked him square in his jaw.

I pulled out the hairstick from my sleeve and stabbed two men in the back to buy Dylan some time. Dylan threw aside the table and span around to kick Hachim back before snatching the dagger away from his belt.

“Run!” He shouted.

“CATCH THEM!” Hachim barked at his men. 

As we ran out of the gambling house, Dylan fought to overthrow the Moor at the door.

“Did you have to steal his dagger?” I complained dreading for our lives. “Do you think he’d let us have it?”

“Good, now they are on our tail to catch us, and I’d rather keep my head intact.”

I cursed my fate as we ran through the streets. As if being chased by those ghouls and blood-drainers wasn’t enough already, the universe decided to let pirates come after me as well.

We ran as fast we could, knocking over some fruit carts and chicks in our way and got cursed at by the vendors, but Hachim’s men caught on us faster and cast the rope net to capture us. I fell on the ground struggling to get free, and the last thing I remembered was getting knocked out by them.

When I came to, I found my hands and legs tied with a hemp rope. I checked my surroundings and realized that I had been brought us to the desert along with other people. My mind went to Dylan and immediately looked around for him. He was tied in a corner all beaten up and still unconscious. There were two guards near a camp, but both had their backs to me. I took the opportunity and rolled over on the ground to get to Dylan and saw his bruised face with a split lip.

“Hey, wake up.” I called him making sure that guards wouldn’t hear me. “Dylan?” I called his name again.

When there was still no response from him, I did the only thing that could actually wake him up. I bit down hardly on his hand and the poor man jolted up awake. I hushed him before he could even shout and draw the attention of those guards towards us.

“What are you—"

“Keep it down!” I chided  him. “And you wouldn’t wake up, so…” I trailed off grinning, and the man rolled his eyes at me.

“I am well-aware of your passive aggressive antics. So, what’s the situation?”

“There are three women, a man, a young boy and a girl, all tied down near the tents.”

“We are in Western Sahara desert.”  He observed.

“Is he going to kill us?” I asked Dylan, but he shook his head.

“He could have killed us back on the streets. He did not have to bring us all the way here for  that.” Dylan answered, and it only meant one thing.

“Human smuggling across the border?” The realization horrified me. I fretted over the fate of other women and mine as well. We were brought to the desert either to be sold or to entertain the men in the desert.

“We need to be cautious before taking any action.” Dylan suggested scanning the area and inquired me further about the guards near the tents.

“Five of them, two here, three on the other side, but I didn’t see Hachim anywhere.”

 I pushed myself up in a sitting position and turned towards Dylan, “Where’s the dagger?”

“It is with him.” 

“You stole the dagger from him only to lose it to him again?” I was speechless. Him losing the dagger meant I could not go back either and stuck in this place.

“We stole from him. Why would he let me have it?”

“Why do you need that dagger?” There’s something more than which met the eye, and I was no fool. Dylan went to great lengths to acquire that dagger. It was no simple thing.

“There’s something in the desert that needs to be taken care of.” Dylan’s eyes became distant and his expressions cold as if he had been asked about something hideous.

“What is it?” I questioned hoping he’d tell me about it but he brushed it off.  “Believe me, you don’t want to learn about it.”

I didn’t press any further and asked him no more. In his world, Moreover, he wasn't going to answer me about them in the first place, and would simply let them rest to my own thoughts.