Page 2 of Married By Wind
A path sloped up as crevices let in a halo of filtered daylight. The roar of the wind increased, a high-pitched wailing that made me want to turn around and flee. I clasped my fingers together to keep them from shaking, even though the wind whipped through my skirts, leaving my teeth chattering from the chill.
I was a daughter of sand, used to the heat of the sun on my face, warming my dark-brown skin. Heat, not cold, was my lifeblood. I shivered as I moved higher, rubbing my hands over my bare arms, wishing I’d worn something warmer. But the cold was only a minor discomfort if the legends were true. I tried to focus on what I’d gain if I succeeded, but flashes of death and destruction haunted my memory.
My parents were treasure hunters, and Mama believed that once, a rich civilization had dwelled in the desert until something destroyed them and scattered their wealth. I disagreed, choosing to believe the spirits had sprinkled treasure in the sands to give us blessings to discover. My younger sister, Anat, agreed with Mama, and now, after what had happened, I did too.
My tribe had built a city of clay on the banks of a lush oasis. But now we had nothing.
I closed my eyes against the memory of buildings crumbling, the screams of those crushed to death, and the wails of the survivors who had lost so much. The wind in the mountain echoed the sound like a mockery of grief.
I set my jaw and continued, putting one foot in front of the other as the air thinned, and then came the whispers.
Go back, daughter of sand. Avoid the curse. Return to your land.
The gusts grew stronger, pulling at my ebony hair, tugging at my dress. The gentle path turned uneven, sharp rocks poking up, determined to make me go back. My breath came short and fast as I avoided the traps and a cold sweat dripped down my back.
My skirt caught on the edge of a rock, and I fell, the cloth tearing with a loud ripping sound. My cry of surprise turned to pain as my palms and knees scraped across the stone. Hot flares shot down my arms and legs, and a smattering of rubble poured over the drop-off. A sob swelled in my throat, giving way to anger. Wiping my blood-smeared palms on my torn skirt, I stood, checking to ensure the treasure I’d tied around my neck was still secure.
It was.
Guilt racked me as I continued my journey, tentatively eyeing the drop-off on one side. The cave within the mountain was growing darker, and the item I’d stolen hung heavy around my neck. I hoped it would be a worthy gift to appease the spirit that haunted the mountain.
Suddenly, the path ended at the edge of a cliff, and the shadowy light faded even more. A boulder loomed above me, and I leaned against it, puzzled by the sudden end of the path. Perhaps this was far enough and it was time. The howling had stopped; the whispers faded. It was now or…
Something winked just above me.
I craned back my head, catching the faint glow of something warm and rosy. The path didn’t end; no, it only led up to a ledge. Using my sense of touch, I searched for a handhold for my fingers. Sure enough, I found a crevice and a foothold for my feet.
The air was still, as though the spirit that watched me had grown tired of my determination. Best to ascend now before it drove me away. As I climbed, that sense that I wasn’t alone grew stronger. I was sure a presence watched, not malevolent but curious. Hopefully curious enough to reward me for my efforts.
When I reached the top of the ledge, I rolled onto my side, gasping for breath. A domed cave rose above me, and I lay on a circular ledge. Runes swirled across it, making up a design of vines that curled and twisted, foliage that appeared oddly familiar. On the far wall, where a shaft of light peeked in, a bush grew, covered in green leaves with bloodred flowers lifting their faces to the light. Its rosy glow had caught my eye when I was down below.
Even though the rest of the ground was rock, the plant had thrived. Impossible. The rock was inhospitable to anything but the toughest plants, and yet there it was, beautiful and strong, growing where it shouldn’t. The sight of those flowers made a bittersweet memory bloom, but I quickly pushed down the emotions I didn’t want to feel.
A spark of hope gave me a wave of strength, and I pushed to my feet. Moving to the middle of the ledge, I knelt and ran my fingers over the runes. Fumbling with the treasure around my neck, I freed the object from the sack and placed it on the ground. Slowly I chanted, words tumbling over my lips as I struck a match.
Flame hovered over my lamp, blooming bright as I begged the spirit to grant me a boon. Wind roared in the distance, steadily growing louder until it surrounded me and my ears popped. I shouted the chant as wind yanked at my hair and clothes, screaming like a demented creature. There was something frantic and fearsome about the voice, and my lamp burned brighter, stronger, the flame never wavering as though it was immune to the wind. Then suddenly, with a clap of thunder, the light went out. The wind stopped. And I was alone in the dark.
3
Vinn
It was pitch-black inside the lamp. At least, I had a hunch that was what had happened. When she had lit the flame, a sucking sensation had come over me, and for the second time in a few months, my power was inadequate. First the wind monster that came out of the hole in the ground, and now her. Ulika. It was ironic that she was the woman I watched each morning at sunrise. Except I hadn’t seen her for a while. Ever since the wind monster had bested me, I’d gone to my mountain to sulk and hide.
I still recalled its winds trapping me, whirling me into unconsciousness. When I’d woken, I’d been alone, and even though I’d flown over the desert again and again, it had evaded me. Something evil had come into my home, and I wasn’t the only one who’d suffered. The tribes had also reaped the consequences of my actions, and now Ulika had come to my mountain to ask for help. Half-heartedly, I tried to drive her away. Even though her determination was admirable, I could not help her.
She’d used fire to draw me into the lamp, some kind of foul magic I couldn’t resist. Odd, because she didn’t have magic, yet she’d trapped me. Or perhaps I was the one who was losing my magic. The very thought made my heart sick.
Still, it was selfless of Ulika to come to my home, for her tribe called it the forbidden mountain and no mortal had dared cross the threshold. Her prayer was touching, but her actions would lead to repercussions I could not shield her from unless I drove her away. First, I had to persuade her to free me and second, make her leave. I could not entertain any other thoughts, especially because of what had happened before. The gods would be furious if they discovered I’d meddled in the way of mortals, except this time, it wasn’t entirely my fault.
I stretched. The small space was tight and dark, and worst of all, it was difficult to draw breath, as though the darkness was choking the life out of me. Would she let me out? Did she know I was here? Mortals weren’t supposed to know gods like me existed, but she did. How? I’d been careful, hadn’t spoken a word, but perhaps her presence meant something. I let out a long breath, hoping she’d see my winds curl out of the lamp. My heart thumped hard as the world tipped and the blackness became less dense.
4
Ulika
Clasping my hands together, I waited. The darkness was absolute and unnatural, confirming the legend of the mountain was true. A presence dwelled there, and it had heard my plea. Now it listened, pondering my request, and slowly the light returned in hues of gray until I made out the shape of the golden lamp. A twitch of guilt made me flinch, but I pushed it away.
Weeks ago, I’d discovered the lamp under a pile of rocks, and something about it had made me quickly tuck it into my bag instead of sharing the old relic with my parents. It was an oil lamp, shaped like the ones my tribe made, but gold instead of clay. I’d washed and polished it carefully, admiring the sloping curves and the slight weight to it. Originally, I’d contemplated using it to barter for better paints and actual brushes, but considering what had happened to my tribe, offering it as a sacrifice was the right choice.
