by Zoe Ashwood
Levi snorts. “Or maybe Aya read the room right?”
My mouth drops open. “Levi Quinn! Are you saying you want there to be a single tent?”
He tilts his head to the side and looks me over. “Don’t you?”
I’m saved from answering by Raphaël who opens the car door at that moment, letting in a rush of already-warm air. It’s nearly seven in the morning, and the cloudless pale-blue sky promises another scorching day.
“Food for mortals,” Raphaël announces, tossing each of us a freshly baked pita bread. Then he hands me a paper cone full of fat, shiny dates. “Here, something sweet.”
I pick a date and bite into the soft, sweet flesh. The flavor bursts in my mouth, almost toffee-like. It’s the best date I’ve ever eaten.
I shove the paper cone in Levi’s direction. “You gotta try this.”
Raphaël seems content to wait for us to finish our breakfast, and it’s not until my pita bread is gone and the cone of dates is half empty that a thought strikes me.
“Wait, do you eat normal food?” I ask Raphaël as I lick the sticky residue from my fingers.
His hazel eyes track my movements with a dangerous intensity. “No, but I can still taste it.”
He leans forward without warning and kisses me on the mouth, his tongue darting out to trace my lower lip. My eyes go wide, but before I can even react, he’s back in his seat as though nothing had happened.
“Mm,” is all he says.
Levi clears his throat, then explains our new plan to Raphaël. The guys switch seats now that we’ll be leaving the paved roads behind and entering the uninhabited desert beyond the oasis.
The ride starts out smooth and uneventful, but the farther Raphaël takes us from the town of Khadra, the rougher the terrain gets. From various movies I’d seen about Egypt, and what research I did on the flights we took in the past couple of days, I knew better than to expect a sea of dunes in this part of the country. The coordinates burned into Levi’s and my palms will lead us to a rocky valley where nothing grows but very scarce shrubs.
The Land Rover bumps over rocks and into shallow dips, up eroded embankments and down crumbly slopes. It’s slow going, and dangerous, but Raphaël’s hands are sure on the steering wheel, and he seems to be enjoying himself. We pass the last date groves in the valley, some shepherds’ huts, and finally leave behind all signs of civilization. The sun climbs into the cloudless sky, and the temperature keeps rising until it hits thirty-two degrees Celsius at ten a.m.
That’s when I lean forward and tap Raphaël’s shoulder. “Look, there’s a shadow under that overhang. We should stop and rest there, do the circle, then maybe continue in the late afternoon.”
He tosses a look at me before facing forward again. “That shade will be gone by the afternoon.”
“Yeah, I figured,” I say. “But I don’t see any other shelter, and unless we want to make a full camp, we’ve gotta take what we can.”
Levi’s lips twitch in a small smile, but he doesn’t comment. This isn’t our first time in the desert, though our last hot, dry mission was in the Mojave Desert in California, not Africa. We’d waited for three days to intercept a group of smugglers trying to get stolen Native American ritual artifacts to a buyer in Las Vegas. I’d learned my lesson about the necessity of sunscreen and adequate water quantities on that particular trip, so I’m not totally clueless, no matter what our vampire guide seems to think.
Raphaël doesn’t voice any more objections and steers us toward that rocky outcropping. The car rolls to a stop in the shade, and I jump out of the door the minute the wheels stop turning. This will be a long delay as it is, so I need to start moving.
Levi is by my side in a second and draws a large circle in the shallow layer of sand that covers the rocks in the shade. Meanwhile, I rummage through my backpack for a candle, my crystals, and a feather.
“Can you get me a cup of water?” I ask Raphaël. “Anything will do.”
The air around us is completely still, and after just three minutes of moving around, I’m sweating but also weirdly dry—it feels like the desert is pulling the water out of me. I plop my wide-brimmed hat on my head and cover my shoulders with a light shirt, even though I’d rather tear all my clothes off. I just can’t risk sunstroke while we’re here.
When all our ingredients are collected, I usher Raphaël to join Levi who’s already standing in the middle of the open circle on the ground. I step in as well, then close the ring by drawing into the sand with my finger.
“Now sit, please,” I ask them. “And don’t cross the line, no matter what,” I add for Raphaël’s benefit.
He watches in silence as I invoke the four elements and call on the guardians of the north, east, south, and west. His shoulders seem tense, and it’s no wonder. He’s about to get spelled again, which must be an unpleasant thought after the curse I’d released him from.
So I kneel in the dirt in front of him and take his hands in mine. “I promise this won’t hurt you in any way,” I say quietly. “And I’m really sorry—again—for cursing you when I found out you’re a vampire.”
He inclines his head. “Thank you. Will it…” He pauses, then rethinks his question. “Will I feel it? And will it affect my powers at all?”
“You won’t, and it shouldn’t,” I answer, even though he hasn’t actually told us about his powers.
Now I wonder how much he’s still hiding from us, despite his apparent honesty whenever we ask him anything. But maybe we haven’t been asking the right questions.
I shake myself, forcing my thoughts back to this spell, this magical circle. Uncovering Raphaël’s secrets will have to wait. I release his hands and look over to Levi, who hands me a bottle of water. This isn’t a part of the magical formula, but it will help me from dehydrating while I sink deep into my power.
Then I sit cross-legged, clutching a black tourmaline crystal the size of a lipstick tube in my hand. It’s great for protection and will add a nice focus to my spell.
That’s the last fully conscious thought I have. My magic greets me like an old friend, cool to the touch and incredibly refreshing after the air that feels as though I’m stuck in an oven. I pull on it, forming a steady stream of sparkling power that will fuel my spell as I go, so I don’t have to keep dipping in.
It’s not something we’d been taught as kids by our coven, but rather a trick I figured out on my own when casting long spells. Levi can’t do it, even though I’ve tried to explain it to him.
The spell starts taking shape in my mind, a trio of magical cages that will envelop each of us when they’re finished. I weave in protection spells that will keep anyone from jinxing us directly, placing tracking spells on us, or siphoning off our energy without our permission. I try to imagine every single scenario where hostile witches could try to hurt us, then remember it’s not just witches who are dangerous to us. Or rather—they might not attack by magical means. I add a layer of a deflection spell that will hopefully redirect any physical blow, whether by a cold weapon or a gunshot, but I can’t make it too heavy, or it’ll sap all my strength when it’s activated. The best I can hope for is that the blade or bullet might slow down enough so it won’t do serious damage if any one of us is stabbed or shot.
The cages glow brighter with each thread I incorporate. Creating the magical pattern feels weirdly like knitting, and I think of my mom, who had been a skilled knitter. Squeezing my eyes shut against the pain that never really goes away, I add another burst of energy into the weave, strengthening the spell.
“Nora.”
Levi’s voice intrudes on my focus, and my eyes snap open in alarm. He would never interrupt a spell like this unless the situation was dire.
I search around for Levi and find him and Raphaël standing behind me, staring out into the distance. The spelled cages tremble, and I squeeze my hands into fists to keep them intact.
“What?” I force out through gritted teeth.
“A sandstorm,” Raphaël
says. “We need to find shelter.”
Following his gaze to the horizon, I notice a massive brown cloud that definitely wasn’t there when I started the spell. What’s weird about it is that it clings close to the ground, moving forward like a bulldozer. Where the air was completely motionless before, a steady breeze now ruffles my hair and threatens to carry off my straw hat.
“Fuck,” Levi curses. “The wind is obliterating the circle line.”
He’s right. Individual sand particles are rolling over, and the line is growing less and less visible.
“Sit,” I command them, “I’ll finish this, but you need to sit.”
They obey instantly, and Levi shows Raphaël how to relax and let the spell settle on him. I close my eyes again so I’m not distracted by the enormous complication blowing in our direction.
With utmost care, I guide the first cage above Levi’s head, then lower it over where I know he’s sitting beside me. The magic I see in my mind molds itself to his body, enveloping him from head to toe, and sinks right through his clothes and down to his skin. He drags in a sharp inhale—as a witch, he’s perfectly aware of what I’m doing to him, and I already know he’ll rip into me later for expending that much magic on this spell.
But I was serious about what I’d said earlier. I can’t let anything happen to them. And if giving them serious protection means I’ll have to sleep and recharge before we reach our destination, so be it.
I move on to Raphaël’s cage and repeat the process on him. He doesn’t gasp or react in any other way, and I wonder if he even feels the magic. It’s good, though, because I don’t want him to grow even more uncomfortable.
Then I slam the last magical cage over my own head and let it fuse with the spells I’d already placed on myself, the previous, much lighter protection. Goosebumps roll down my back and arms despite the arid heat, and I shiver at the sensation.
Lastly, I snip the thread of magic powering the spell and let the rest sink into the pool inside me. It’s still shimmery and beautiful, but much shallower now, less exuberant. I thank the elements and the Goddess for the spell, knowing my magic will replenish as it always does.
Opening my eyes, I find myself looking at the two men who wear identical expressions of alarm on their faces.
I turn, facing the sandstorm.
“Oh, fuck.”
Twenty
Raphaël
“Oh, fuck,” doesn’t even begin to cover it.
The expletive that flies out of Nora’s mouth at the sight of the monstrous cloud of sand spurs me into action. Springing up, I burst out of the magical circle she and Levi had created. Whether the spell is finished or not, we can’t waste any more time or risk getting buried alive.
“Help me get the tent set up,” I bellow at Levi.
The distant roar of the storm is getting louder by the minute. I race to the back of the Land Rover and drag out the desert-appropriate tent that Aya had packed for us. With the witch’s help, I pull the canvas out of the bag and start putting together the flexible tent poles that will hopefully withstand the gale-force winds that are coming up on us.
“Can’t we try to outrun it?” Nora yells as she picks up her gear from the ground and sprints to the car to put it away. “We’ve got a good head start. Maybe we could make it back to Khadra!”
“It’s going too fast,” I reply, trying to figure out where the poles go. “And being caught out unprepared would be worse. Come on, let’s get it up!”
To his credit, Levi obeys my instructions to the letter. He drags the tent over to the flattest point of the little dip we’d parked in, so it’ll be slightly sheltered by the rocky overhang we picked for the shade. I jump into the Land Rover and reposition it so it will take the worst of the debris that might come flying along with the sand.
“I didn’t think this part of Egypt was known for sandstorms,” Nora says as she lugs over a big container of water.
I pause and meet her gaze. “It’s not. A storm of this size is a complete anomaly.”
“Oh,” she says, her brown eyes wide. “So you think it’s…”
“Magical,” Levi completes her sentence. “Fuck.”
A stiff breeze blows through the shallow valley we’re in, lifting the tent flaps and bringing with it the first dust particles.
“Search the trunk and see if Aya packed masks and goggles,” I instruct Nora. “If not, find scarves or something you can tie over your mouth.”
“Can’t we just wait it out in the car?” she asks, pushing her flyaway hair out of her face. “It looks bad.”
There’s a note of fear in her voice that I wish I could erase completely. But this storm is a problem none of us had foreseen—and I have no idea how long it’ll last.
“Two breathing people locked in a car with no ventilation isn’t a good idea. Not if it might go on for hours.”
She opens her mouth as though to ask about my own breathing situation—her eyebrows snap together, and a little furrow appears between them—but she seems to change her mind in the last moment. She gives me a quick nod and hurries back to the car.
Levi and I wrangle the tent poles in place, then find rocks to weigh down the tent by putting them into the specially sewn pockets at the sides. The rocky desert earth is too hard and packed for us to hammer pegs into the ground. Then we sprint to the car and grab our own gear—enough food to last the humans for the day, if need be, flashlights, and our personal bags.
Nora presents us with basic face masks that Aya must have put in the emergency kit, but I instruct her and Levi to wet two scarves with water and wrap them around their heads. If we’re lucky, we won’t have to venture out of the tent until the storm passes over us.
Soon, everything we need is piled in the tent, and the two witches stand beside it, gaping at the wall of sand that’s approaching us. Already, the world grows dark as the sand obscures the sun, and I know that in a matter of minutes, it’ll become pitch-black. I’ve seen sandstorms in the Sahara Desert, but none were this bad.
“Hey,” I yell over the sound of the rushing wind. “You two should do your human thing now.”
Nora turns to me, her face radiating confusion. “Our human thing?”
Levi grins, grabs her wrist, and tugs her to the side. “He means we should go to the toilet.”
“Oh!” Nora’s face flames red, and she slaps a hand on her forehead. “Right. Hours in the tent. Not a great idea.”
She disappears behind the car, and Levi walks off a distance. They return within a minute, and not a moment too soon. It’s getting hard to see, and dust particles sting my eyes, forcing me to squint.
“Come on!” Levi urges us. “Let’s get inside.”
We pile in and secure the zipper and the added outside layer that will hopefully protect us from the worst of the dust. The tent is so dark now that even I can barely make out Nora’s alarmed expression and Levi’s frown. They, with their human eyesight, probably can’t see a thing.
Rummaging around, I find a flashlight and flick it on. “Better?”
Nora blows out a long breath and moves to sit on her rolled-up sleeping mat. “Yeah. But this is crazy.”
Levi rubs his eyes with his knuckles. “The godsdamned sand got in my eyes.” He looks up and touches the tent canvas with his fingertips. “Are we sure this will hold?”
I roll out my mat and maneuver around them to flatten it, then stretch out on my back. “The smallest particles might still get in, but the weave of the canvas is designed for this. It’s breathable but durable. It won’t be as bad as you think.”
I hope.
Since this storm is clearly supernatural, there’s no knowing what it’ll do. But I’ll be damned before I do anything to feed Nora’s fear even more.
She busies herself for a minute, arranging her sleeping mat, then sleeping bag, and sorting through her gear. But as the wind howls around us, buffeting the sides of the tent with sand, she runs out of things to do. Finally, she sits next to me, her hands
fidgeting in her lap.
“Guys, I’m really sorry I brought you here,” she blurts finally. “I didn’t think we’d run into so much trouble before we even reached the site. I mean, I expected there to be competition, but I don’t know…” She rubs her knees through her linen trousers, her fingers tense. “I thought the other witches would play fair. And I know that’s stupid, but—”
Levi puts out a hand and places it on top of hers. “Not stupid. It just never occurred to you to cheat, so you assumed the rest would follow the same rules.”
Nora leans forward, her face half shadowed by the flashlight beam. “That’s it exactly. I thought we’d play this game. We all want to win, obviously, but I thought it was a sort of competition to see who was the baddest boss around, something to brag about at coven meetings. But people here are fighting to the death.” She points toward the entrance of the tent. “This could have killed us if we weren’t prepared. If we didn’t have a guide with us who knew what to do.”
At that, she sends me a grateful look I’m not sure I deserve. The favor she promised me will be so much bigger and more important than anything I can do for them. But I don’t want to talk about that now, so I change the topic.
“Do you think it’s the Russians again?” I ask.
Nora scoots back and stretches out her long legs. “I don’t know. I want to believe it’s them, but it would be dangerous to assume that we’ve only got them as competition.”
“It could be the Icelander,” Levi points out. “Whoever’s doing this is insane—weather magic is a complete no-no. It can have massive consequences that are impossible to predict.”
“So it’s a magical taboo?” I ask.
Levi grimaces. “There aren’t any universal rules. But this is common sense. Once you cast a spell this big, it takes on a life of its own because it melds with the environment. They must have stirred up the wind and got the ball rolling, but then the desert picked it up and did the rest.”
