They returned to the hotel dusty, drained, and empty handed. A late lunch was served in near silence, the table heavy with frustration.
Sean finally broke it, jabbing at his food. "So... no necklace. Again."
"We've checked everything twice," Iris sighed. "We can't waste more time chasing ghosts"
Sean muttered, "We were supposed to be here for a cultural preservation project, remember?"
Truth was, that grant-funded initiative was a cover. Mr. Jones's real goal had always been the obsidian necklace but all in all since the project was already funded results were also expected and they don't answer to MrJones only.They'd dedicated the first two days to finding it, assuming it wouldn't take long. But with no results, it was time to shift focus.
"Alright," Iris said, sitting straighter. "Tomorrow, we reset. The serious work begins. We've got ancient scribes, ruins, architecture. Let's document everything properly."
Rohan nodded. "Those wall inscriptions were no joke. That's a good starting point."
But the next morning, Mr. Jones called and he wasn't pleased.
Jones: "Let me get this straight. You found nothing?"
Iris: "Not without risking structural damage. We've done a full surface scan."
Jones: "Then dig. Hire people. I don't care how. That necklace is worth more than all the ruins combined."
Sean: "We could destroy historical evidence..."
Jones (sharply): "I didn't send you there to babysit relics. There's a reason I chose you. Can I depend on you or not?"
Reluctantly, they agreed. Rohan handpicked locals ,men he trusted to keep quiet. If something that valuable was buried, they needed loyal hands.
Sean and Iris took turns supervising the dig site. When off duty, they spent more time getting to know Zara and helping her get to know somethings she didn't understand like technology.She was a fast learner needless to say.
Zara spent her time quietly watching them, especially Iris. She picked up on how she tied her hair back when she meant business, how she sipped her tea, underlined things in books,even though she didn't know some of the words or phrases she was underlining .She mimicked her gestures in a soft, subtle way that wasn't mocking , just searching.
One morning, Iris helped Zara pick out an outfit for the field.
"This should work," Iris said, handing her a black utility jacket. "And your hair can you tie it up , I've seen you learning current hairstyles, that's if you okay with it ,it does make moving around easier though."
Zara nodded. "'ll do it but I'm not sure it would come out as well as yours."
Iris chuckled and assured her .She gathered her hair into an elegant bun.
"I'm impressed,"Iris said checking her out ,"You sure are a quick learner."
Zara tilted her head slightly, a sly spark in her eyes. "I guess I am."
Iris gasped, playfully clutching her chest. "Excuse me who taught you sass, miss? We've known each other for like... a day and a half!"
Zara's lips curled into a subtle smile. "Her name rhymes with cyrus."
Iris shook her head, smiling in amused disbelief then flipped her hair over her shoulder with effortless flair, sass practically shimmering off her.
They both giggled ,the sound soft and unexpected.
When Zara was not with Iris she was with Sean she observed him more carefully. She didn't say much, but her eyes followed him with curiosity.
She studied the way he handled equipment, how casually he joked, how easily he took up space. Her gaze lingered just a second too long sometimes. Sean noticed once or twice but said nothing.
When they spoke, it was simple.
Zara: "You and Iris do you work together often?"
Sean: "We have been partners for as long as I can remember. She's alright. Bit bossy."
Zara (smiling faintly): "She's kind to me."
Sean: "She's kind to stray cats, too."
Zara gave him a look that could've been confusion, or amusement. She didn't reply. Just kept watching.
Their days were now split despite Mr Jones obsession they also have real work to do . Morning hours were for supervising hired workers, afternoons decoding ancient scribes, and uncovering artifacts that held real cultural weight such as temple fragments, faded palm leaf manuscripts, and ritual items that spoke of the fort's forgotten rituals and legends. Every item, every inscription, helped piece together the rich history of Bhangarh a once thriving kingdom now swallowed by dust and whispers. Evenings were spent eating, talking, and inching closer across the wide chasm of time and mystery.
Zara still remained something none of them could explain but piece by piece, she was becoming someone they could understand.