29. Samuel
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Samuel
The moment the wind howled through the square, rattling the stalls and sending festival decorations tumbling, I knew things were about to turn.
I snapped into motion, shutting the wooden shutters on my stall and securing the latch. A gust of wind slammed against me, nearly knocking my hat off, but I ignored it, my hands moving fast.
I didn’t have time to waste.
Kai was struggling to tie down a flapping canvas.
“Need a hand?” I called, already moving toward him.
“Could use one,” he gritted out, bracing against the wind.
Together, we yanked the tarp down, securing it with thick ropes. The storm had gone from an autumn breeze to something fierce in minutes, and the air smelled like rain.
As soon as Kai’s stall was as locked down as it was going to get, we exchanged a look. No words needed. We both turned toward the chaos unfolding around us.
Vendors scrambled to grab their wares.
Families rushed to gather up their kids, their laughter turning to startled cries as the wind sent hay bales tumbling and rattled the festival lanterns hanging above.
The band had stopped playing, the music replaced with the sounds of people shouting to be heard over the rising storm.
“Over there!” Kai pointed toward an older man struggling to pull his cart out of the way before the wind overturned it completely.
We sprinted across the square, each grabbing a side of the cart and heaving it toward the nearest building for shelter. The man gave us a grateful nod before hurrying inside, slamming the door against the wind.
Lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the square for a heartbeat before the thunder followed, deep and rumbling. The first drops of rain splattered against the cobblestones.
“We need to clear the square before this gets worse,” I said, scanning the crowd. “Where’s Adam?”
Kai looked around, eyes sharp. “He was with Sadie.”
That sent a jolt through me. I searched the mass of people, trying to catch a glimpse of her mahogany-colored hair or the soft blush of her dress.
Instead, I spotted Lila, Jace tucked protectively against her chest, as she ushered Aurora and Evie toward shelter.
I caught Jaxon’s eye, and he gave me a quick nod—he had them covered.
The wind picked up again, and a wooden sign broke free, crashing into a nearby stall with a sharp crack. People flinched, moving faster now, trying to get to safety.
A little girl stood frozen near one of the game booths, her wide eyes locked onto the scattered prizes blowing across the square. Her mother was a few stalls away, running toward her, yelling her name, but the girl wasn’t moving.
“Got her!” I shouted, already moving. I sprinted through the wind, dodging debris, and scooped the little girl up just as another strong gust sent a metal chair skidding dangerously close.
She let out a whimper, her tiny arms wrapping around my neck. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” I murmured, shielding her as best I could from the rain.
I carried her to her mother, who pulled her into a fierce embrace, her face crumpling with relief. “Thank you,” she breathed.
“Get inside,” I told her. “Now.”
She didn’t hesitate, clutching her daughter tight as she ran toward one of the shops, taking people in.
Kai barely had time to nod before a frantic voice cut through the storm. “Help! I need help over here!”
We both turned toward the sound. Harriet was struggling to keep her canopy from ripping free. Her small frame was nearly lifted off the ground as she clung to one of the support poles.
“I’ll get her!” Kai shouted over the wind, already pushing forward.
I hesitated for half a second before another sound pulled my attention in the opposite direction—the sharp, panicked whinny of a horse.
I turned just in time to see the festival’s pony ride in chaos. One of the smaller ponies, spooked by the wind, had managed to break loose, its reins dragging in the dirt as it reared up in fear.
The handler was trying to calm the others, but this one was bolting straight toward a cluster of people scrambling for shelter.
I took off at a sprint.
The pony swerved, hooves skidding over the cobblestones, eyes rolling with fear. If it slipped, it could take out anyone in its path.
I surged forward, dodging overturned crates and broken decorations, pushing through the rain and wind that lashed against me.
A teenage boy tripped in the pony’s path. His sister screamed, yanking at his arm, but he wasn’t fast enough.
I didn’t think. I just acted.
Throwing myself forward, I grabbed the boy by the back of his jacket and yanked him out of the way just as the pony thundered past, its hooves striking the ground where he’d been only a second ago.
We hit the wet cobblestone hard, but we were in one piece.
“You okay?” I asked, breathing hard.
The boy nodded, eyes wide with shock. His sister pulled him up, clutching his arm like she wasn’t ever letting go again.
“Thank you,” she gasped.
I gave a sharp nod before turning back to the pony, who was still panicked and charging toward the edge of the festival grounds.
“Get inside!” I ordered them before taking off again.
The pony was fast, but I knew these grounds better. I cut across the square, pushing myself harder, and managed to intercept just as it tried to squeeze through a gap between two vendor stalls.
Lunging forward, I grabbed the trailing reins and pulled, using my weight to counter its force.
It reared up, hooves kicking into the air, but I held firm, murmuring low, soothing words over the howling wind. “Easy, easy. You’re okay.”
Slowly, its frantic movements stilled, muscles trembling under my grip. A second later, the handler arrived, breathless and soaked.
“Got him?” I asked.
She nodded, relief clear in her face as she took the reins. “Thanks, Samuel. I owe you one.”
“Just get him inside,” I said, already scanning the square again.
The storm was getting worse, rain coming down in sheets now, turning the cobblestones slick. People were still moving, still trying to get to safety.
I spotted Kai in the distance, Harriet now safely under a covered walkway, and gave him a quick nod. He nodded back before heading toward another group needing help.
Then, through the haze of whipping wind and flashing lights, I saw her.
Sadie.
She stood in the open, caught in the whirlwind, her dress clinging to her legs as the gale pushed against her small frame. She was trying to move, arms lifted like she could fight the storm itself, but her footing wavered.
Panic flickered across her face as she stumbled, her hair whipping around her in wild tendrils.
She was going to fall.
I didn’t think. I ran.
The wind shoved against me, resisting every step, but I pushed forward, my boots sliding on the slick cobblestones. My pulse roared in my ears.
Just a few more feet.
Sadie turned just as another gust hit, knocking her sideways. A sharp cry tore from her lips as her feet gave out.
I caught her.
One arm locked around her waist, the other cradling the back of her head as she slammed against my chest. For a split second, neither of us moved, the world nothing but wind and rain and the rapid beat of her heart against my ribs.
“I’ve got you,” I said, my voice rough from the effort of running, from the fear that had been clawing at my throat.
She nodded, breathless, eyes wide and searching. “Adam—I was with him, but a child needed help. Where is he?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But we have to move. Now.”
Another blast of wind sent debris flying past us. I tightened my hold on her and half-carried her toward The Foundry.
The heavy steel door was just ahead, barely moving against the storm. I forced it open with my shoulder, pulling Sadie inside with me just as another furious gust rattled the walls.
The door slammed shut behind us, sealing us in darkness.
For a moment, we just stood there, breathless, dripping rain onto the cold concrete floor. The only sound was the storm raging outside, muffled but still angry, still wild.
Sadie shivered against me. Slowly, she tilted her head up, her wide eyes searching mine.
“You saved me,” she whispered, her voice raw.
I swallowed hard, my pulse still pounding. “Always.”