Page 3 of Married By Wind
A tendril of black smoke curled from the lamp. My skin crawled as I waited, but nothing else happened. The silence stretched, the shaft of sunlight returned, and my fears threatened to overwhelm me. I tried to keep still, but the bruises on my legs and arms stung as the adrenaline of my journey ebbed away. A prickle began behind my eyes. It was over. The spirit hadn’t seen fit to answer my question.
With a sigh, I held the lamp up to the light. The gift was insignificant, and dust marred one side of it. I blew over it, then wiped it clean with my fingers.
The lamp shuddered.
I dropped it on its side as smoke curled out of the tiny opening. At first the steady stream was small, but soon it grew bigger and blacker, swelling into a cloud that blinded me. Coughing, I stumbled to my feet and waved my arms, feeling for the smooth wall. A need to run seized me, but just as suddenly as the cloud had come, it faded, replaced with a man.
He stood beside the lamp, wearing loose linen trousers. Tousled black hair hung almost to his shoulders and curled around his pointed ears. The shadow of a beard crossed his heart-shaped face, while almond-shaped eyes glared at me with a coldness that made me shiver. His fists curled, making the muscles on his arms bulge, and the hardness of his chest tapered down to his low-slung trousers.
I sank to my knees as I gawked at the man who was, oh gods, so familiar. What was he doing here, in Fae Mountain? And had he just come out of the lamp? My chest squeezed, and even though my breath was shallow with the pain of a broken heart.
I blinked back tears as memories swam through my mind: the rich scent of his skin, fragrant with spices; the way his lips curved up when he teased me; the warmth of his hand against my cheek; and his soulful eyes, brimming with knowledge as though he could read the secrets of my heart and would grant every wish.
His name was Vinn, and he was a traveler, a nomad, come to visit the tribe before he continued his journey. He’d enchanted us with stories, played music with the bard, danced around the fires at night, and taken a special interest in me.
During his brief visit, the friendship that bloomed between us deepened into what I hoped was love. He brought me desert flowers with hues of pink and yellow and red, showed me how to crush them and use their ink to paint. He rolled up his trousers and caught fish in the river and, unafraid to get wet and dirty, played in the mud with the children. The herbs and spices he shared were rare. My tribe had never seen them before, even when we’d traded with other tribes.
When he dwelled with us, the flavors of food and the colors of the sunrise were bright and vivid. Life and energy surged when he was near and even my parents admired him. Wanderer though he was, I waited, breathless, for him to ask them for my hand in marriage.
Then, one morning, he was gone. Without saying goodbye. There one day, the next, vanished as though he’d flown away on the wings of the wind. We all missed him, and Anat teased me about being grumpy for weeks. I did not know how to put into words what his leaving had done to me. Like a blade slicing my chest and leaving a deep scar that would not heal. Each morning, I waited and watched, but he never came back.
Even when Uncle Noah had returned from trading, he’d said none had seen or heard of a traveler named Vinn.
Now the light shifted over his corded muscles, and I should have looked away, but warmth suffused my face. He was handsomer than I recalled, with a presence about him that made him appear larger than life. As though he was more than just a man. My lips trembled as I fought to keep everything within me from shattering, but all I choked out was, “Why are you here?”
“Ulika.” He sighed my name like a prayer. “Why areyouhere?”
He didn’t sound remorseful, rather resigned, and anger punctured my next words. Anger because he’d left without saying goodbye. He didn’t sound happy to see me or care that I was in love with him. “I came because of a legend, a story regarding the god of wind. I came to ask for help, and you appeared.”
He cocked his head, studying me, and then his dark eyes narrowed ever so slightly, not with anger but sorrow. “I am the god of the wind, and this is my home.”
Frozen, I gawked at him while his words sank in. Was it a joke? But why would he appear in this place to tell me falsehoods? Alarm raced through me as I tried to comprehend his words. But the more I stared at him, the more my memories made sense of his claim. None of the other tribes had heard of him. He’d known stories that even Jadda, the oldest member of my tribe, didn’t know, and had brought plants and spices that did not grow in the desert.
If he was the wind, then he hadn’t left at all. He watched over me each morning, ruffled my hair, and dried my paintings as though he was trying to be near me. Then there was the faint aroma of roses and spices in the mountain. It smelled just like him, and he’d brought me some of the red flowers that bloomed on the bush. That was why the rosy glow was so familiar. My heart pounded as I became aware of the truth, but I needed him to confirm it. “How? You walked among us like a mortal.”
“Yes, well, all gods can take the form of a mortal and walk among them.”
I squeezed my hands together, struggling to keep my composure even though my entire body shook. He’d given me his attention, then changed his mind and fled. For months, I’d ached for his return. “Why my tribe?”
Why me?
He must have understood my unsaid question, for he crossed his arms over his bare chest. “I never meant to hurt you, Ulika. Every day, hope shimmered in your ears and I had to rip myself away before it was too late.”
“You’re the god of wind. You said you were a wanderer. You said…”
“I can’t lie.” He cut me off harshly. “I told you the truth. While the mountain is my home, I go where I please in the desert. I’m immortal, blessed with magic and power and everlasting life. Eventually, your people would ask too many questions, and the truth would come out. I don’t age. I don’t change. I am who I am. And you’ve done something to me with that lamp.”
The awareness of him hurt so much it was hard to breathe. “Me?” I gasped.
He gestured impatiently at the lamp, then bent to pick it up, eyes narrowed as he studied it. “Yes, you.”
“It’s a lamp, a gift of gold,” I stammered. “A gift in exchange for your goodwill.”
His frown deepened.
I went on, forcing myself to forget about love and our prior relationship. What was important was the task at hand, and if he truly was the god of wind, surely he’d help my people. “I’m here because sand devils attacked my tribe, not once, but five times. The first time, they destroyed our homes; the second time, they drove away most of our livestock. We have nothing, and they keep coming back. My people are afraid to rebuild lest they return. We seek shelter in the caves to hide from the violent winds, and no one will help us. The other tribes have shunned us, claiming we bring bad luck and the sand devils have marked us. That’s why I’m here, to ask the god of wind for help, and apparently that’s you.”
His dark gaze left the lamp and lingered on my hair, which had come loose and tumbled down my shoulders. He scrutinized the scarf around my neck, and my torn dress, which showed off the cuts and scratches on my skin. I finger combed my tangled hair, self-conscious about my appearance. If I’d known he was the god of wind, I would have tried not to look so dirty and disheveled.
