Chapter 28
Rami
“You’re hurting me again,” Nahlah complained irritably.
I instantly loosened my tight hold, murmuring, “Asif.” My anxiety had been steadily mounting minute by minute, an inexplicable sense of foreboding that kept my gaze constantly sweeping our surroundings, my body tense and ready for an unknown threat.
Despite Nahlah’s initially high spirits, I could sense her growing frustration with me. It wasn’t just the accidental pressure on her ribs that was annoying her; it was also my persistent agitation. The map’s path became clearer and clearer as we progressed, but instead of reassuring me, it only heightened my apprehension. I wanted to blame my restless behavior on the loss of my genio bond, yet my instincts were telling me to be alert and on guard.
As the harshness of the noon sun waned, marking two hours of our journey, Huriyah’s abrupt stop nearly unseated us both. With a quick manipulation of the wind, I steadied myself before catching her around the waist. “Are you okay?”
”Yes,” she nodded, pushing her hair out of her face. ”Why’d Huriyah stop?”
“He was probably just startled by a dune viper. Go on, Huriyah,” I urged. But he resisted, emphatically tossing his head back and forth.
“It’s okay, sweetling,” Nahlah offered softly. But her attempt to soothe him did little to ease his distress. He snorted nervously, his ears pinned back against his head, his eyes wide with fear. Whinnying anxiously, he backed up further, his hooves digging into the sand.
Huriyah was anything but stubborn, and his reluctance to take another step instantly put me on guard as I scanned our surroundings. When no obvious threat presented itself, I looked at Nahlah. “Has the map changed?”
“No,” she replied, turning the tome toward me. The confirmation that our route remained steady did little to ease my concern.
“We need to be ready. If Huriyah senses danger, we’d be wise to trust his instincts.”
Nahlah nodded, her face lined with worry. “What do you suggest?”
“I’m going to set up a protective barrier around us,” I explained, the plan forming as I spoke. “It won’t last indefinitely, but it should give us some protection until we know what we”re dealing with.”
“You can maintain one while we’re moving?” she asked in surprise.
”As long as I keep it around the three of us. Any larger, and I won”t be able to handle it for long.” At my admission, an unspoken fear crept in—masquerading as an elemental fae meant limitations on my powers, rendering us even more vulnerable.
“How can I help?”
“Keep your elemental dagger close, and stay with Huriyah,” I requested, handing her my satchel before dismounting. The moment my feet touched the ground, I sensed the cause of Huriyah’s distress. There was a shift in the sands below, making the desert itself seem frightened, as if it anticipated trouble. Fear urged me to craft the barrier quickly, channeling my powers more forcefully than usual. With Nahlah focused on comforting Huriyah, I took advantage of her distraction to strengthen the wards with the six elements and my genio powers.
After five minutes of layering the wards over each other, I secured the barrier in my mind”s eye, knotting it tightly to ensure it would withstand the absence of my direct physical control. The protective purple ward snapped around us just as the landscape fractured, our surroundings erupting with preternatural tension.
“Come on!” I hastily swung into the saddle, pulling Nahlah up in front of me before urging Huriyah into a desperate sprint. The sky darkened, clouds churning ominously overhead as fierce winds whipped around us. Desperately seeking the source of the storm’s unnatural feeling, I strained my eyes until I finally saw them splintering across the sky—bursts of fire and light.
My stomach sank as I pieced it together. A whirlwind of sand growing faster with each second—earth. Winds roaring with a ferocity that seemed almost alive—air. Darkness previously masquerading as clouds pressing in from all sides—shadow. Rain cascading in torrents from the darkened sky—water.
”What’s happening!?” Nahlah shouted, flinching as a burst of light crackled across the entire sky.
“It’s an elemental storm!” I replied. Huriyah whinnied, suddenly rearing back as a honeybelle tree crashed directly into our path. The stallion took a few steps back before leaping into the air, barely clearing the fallen trunk before it burst into flames.
”What do we do!?” she exclaimed, gripping my jellaba with both hands.
”Just keep your head down and hold on!” I instructed, quickly shifting the reins to one hand, wrapping my free arm tightly around her to ensure she wouldn”t fall from the saddle. ”Hopefully, we”ll pass through it soon!”
Elemental storms, though exceedingly rare, were ferocious and catastrophic, seldom leaving survivors in their wake. My genio powers—impressive as they were—couldn”t match the overwhelming force wielded by the six elements combined, and relief flooded through me as Huriyah’s powerful stride took us further from the storm”s reach.
For a moment, I felt hopeful that the worst was behind us and safety was near. A second later, however, I was reminded of why hope was a dangerous emotion. As if angered by our escape, the storm intensified, surging forward until it caught up, engulfing us completely. For the briefest moment, I couldn”t see or hear anything. But then, the heart of the storm unfurled, and a terrifying spectacle of intermingling elements exploded around us.
Water and fire swirled together, air whipped earthen debris into a frenzy, and terrifying strikes of electric light splintered through the shadows. The force was insurmountable, each element hammering relentlessly against the wards, attempting to weaken my defenses.
“There has to be something we can do!” Nahlah exclaimed, her eyes widening as the barrier flickered under the powerful assault.
”I don”t know what else we can do!” I said through clenched teeth, desperately struggling to keep us safe. But it was too much. As the full brunt of the storm crashed against us, shattering the wards, all I could do was tighten my hold, pulling her as close as possible.
The rain was merciless in its assault, instantly soaking us, each drop sharp and biting. The wind whipped around us almost vengefully, tearing at our clothing and hair, carrying stinging grains of sand that lashed at our exposed skin with the harshness of broken glass. When a sharp rock sliced across Nahlah”s face, her cry of pain and the sight of blood dripping down her cheek filled me with absolute fury.
Willing to face the consequences of defying the Sultan, I tapped into my genio powers, determined to break free from this relentless siege. But when I tried to harness my power, it fizzled out uselessly before it even reached my bands. Cursing under my breath, I tried again and again, meeting the same resistance each time.
Without warning, we were thrown forward as Huriyah halted abruptly, my hands instinctively grasping Nahlah”s waist. He reared back with a fearful whinny as bolts of lightning struck the ground in a ring around us, exploding into flames upon impact.
“Rami?” Nahlah shouted, her voice filled with urgency. “Why aren’t you using your powers!?”
”I’m trying!” I called back, my voice drowned out by the booming thunder. ”Something is blocking me!” Panic clawed at my mind as I realized that if my genio powers were being blocked, we were dealing with a force far beyond an elemental storm. If I had to guess, the Whispering Dunes—or the Heart itself—was in control, rendering us helpless.