of mud being slapped into frames and made into bricks. Mama was somewhere behind me with the other water pitcher women, going around the perimeter of the wall, offering water to the workers.
But my eyes were on the horizon. In my bones, I could feel something significant, something blessed. Change was coming. But what? And from where?
I looked out over the strange new desert, seeing it not for its danger, but for its splendor. This was a land where a girl could have adventures, just like the ones I’d read about. This was a land where a girl could be the hero she knew she was. I was not afraid.
Out in the desert, the sky was darkening. A ripple of excitement ran through me. I turned back to see the workers’ expressions, but none of them looked up. Why didn’t anyone notice?
Across town, I heard the choir begin practicing, even though the God we knew was just a comfortable tether to our past. Keeping up morale. They started singing, squeaky soprano voices and altos just off-key.
“I’m pressing on the upward way
New heights I’m gaining every day
Still praying as I onward bound
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.”
I could smell it now: rain. That telltale heaviness in the air, the feeling of sudden, damp wind against my skin. Though if I’d looked closer, I’d have seen that no dust was stirring and that the air was still.
I turned and looked back. Nobody was watching me. Nobody was paying attention.
I took a deep breath. Then I plunged. I ran, over the dusty fields with their nubs of stubbly, dead wheat, out into the desert, out toward the horizon. I could see something rising there, a darkness.
This must be the rain! I thought, ignoring the nausea rising in my stomach. And I’ll be the first to feel it!
Behind the eyes of my younger body, I felt like clawing my way out, ripping the husk of myself off me and throwing it into the wind. I tried, with all my effort, all my power, to make myself get up, to run back home. But I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, no matter how much I wanted to. I was an observer, shackled to the past.
The wind began to pick up. There was a tingle of electricity in the air.
“Sal!” came a voice.
No, I thought. Not again. Please don’t make me live through this again. But when I opened my eyes, there she was: Mama. She was running toward me, through the fields, her dust mask hanging from her neck. I realized then that I had gotten so far from the city, so far from the walls.
“Sal…?” she said. “What are you doing all the way out here, honey?”
It had begun to get cold, far colder than it had been only an hour ago.
“Rain’s coming, Mama!” I said. “I can feel it!”
Then a siren blared behind us. We turned, slowly, looking toward the north. On the horizon was a dark line.… Rain clouds? No. A dust storm, a mile high, ten miles wide. Sweeping toward us.
“Oh, God, Sal… run!” Mama shouted. She bent and reached out to touch me. There was a snap of static electricity and she winced, but kept ahold of me.
We ran, our legs pumping as we ran back toward the walls. I could see the black dot that was Mother Morevna coming out into the center of town, drawing everyone around her to cast the Dust Dome Spell.
“Wait!” cried Mama.
But the dust storm rolled toward us, bigger and blacker and thicker than any storm I’d ever seen. No! I thought. I will not see this again. My head pounded as I tried to wrench myself out of the vision. But the dust was still coming, that black wall still advancing. We ran harder, our chests hurting, dust whipping behind us. But we could not escape the storm. It roared behind us, a great dark monster swallowing everything. We were almost there. Just a little more!
“Wait!” Mama cried again, but we were too far away.
“PULVAREM FIRMAMENTUM!” Mother Morevna shouted. And the dome spread over Elysium, spreading downward in front of us, into the ground. I felt my body connect with the dome of the spell, hard and unyielding as a glass door. We were too late!
We turned to face the storm, pitch-black and howling. Mama reached for my dust mask, but I’d left it behind like the careless, worthless little girl I had been. Then Mama pulled me to her and wrenched her