could blow fiercely for weeks on end, obliterating landmarks, eroding the paint off vehicles and the skin off people. The punishing winds made travel impossible and kept people indoors until it passed. Out here, it would kill them without protection.
“I experienced my first khamsin with my father when I was about thirteen.” She pulled another T-shirt over the first two, then shook out her hair and rewrapped the long scarf around her neck a couple of times. “That terrifying dark wall of dust and sand coming at us in a suffocating blanket totally freaked me out. Have you seen it?”
She needed to get a grip here. This wasn’t khamsin, but merely a bit of wind kicking up sand particles. It was the wrong time of year for the devil winds. High winds weren’t uncommon out here in the desert, though, and even a mild windstorm would make finding their way to civilization tricky, if not downright impossible. She looked across the sea of sand as particles danced and swirled on the surface.
“A couple of times. A sandstorm is kicking up, but it won’t be of that magnitude. Keep that scarf handy, and cover your face. If this wind gets any worse, we won’t be able to walk in it, and we’ll need better shelter than the tent. Let’s get the lead out. Finish going through our supplies; I want to go up on that tall dune to look around before we wander off. Hopefully I can see signs of life from a higher elevation and we can start walking. If not we’ll hunker down and wait it out.”
“Good idea.” She stood with him, winding his long blue and white scarf loosely around his throat a couple of times the way Beniti al-Atrash had taught her when she was a little girl. A protection against the sun, flies, and sand. “How long will you be gone?” She sounded like a worried wife.
“Twenty, thirty minutes. You can watch me all the way up that dune.”
She patted his chest and rearranged the scarf. Needing to touch him. “Good, I like watching you. You have a very nice butt.”
He bent to brush her lips with his. “I’m extremely partial to all your parts as well.”
“They’ll be waiting for you to hurry back. Be careful walking in the sand; it can be—”
“Twenty minutes.”
She dug through several layers to find her front pockets, and shoved her hands into them to prevent herself from grabbing on to him like a baby monkey on its mother’s back. “I’ll be right here.”
Isis didn’t relish being apart from him, even if he wouldn’t be gone long. She felt as though she had a target painted on her back. But separating so he could see where they were was expedient.
Gait slightly uneven but unhesitant, Thorne strode off across the sand, lifting a hand in farewell without turning around. Isis watched him for several minutes, then went back to rifle through their supplies, setting aside anything she thought could be useful. It was a dangerously small pile. Clearly whoever had left them there wanted them to die sooner rather than later.
Shivering in earnest, Isis retrieved the brand-new sleeping bag and, taking the frying pan with her as a makeshift weapon, settled in the sand with the down bag around her shoulders to wait for Thorne. She ignored the rumble of her stomach. Being hungry was the least of her problems. In the vast open space, hearing the rough sigh of the wind, and with the dusty smell of the breeze swirling around her, Isis had never felt so alone in her life.
The black bowl of the sky, studded with millions of crisp white stars, seemed close enough to touch, but its vastness made her feel very, very small. If she died out here, her father wouldn’t even know she was gone. It was a terrifying realization that her death wouldn’t have an impact on anyone. She’d traveled so much growing up that she hadn’t formed lasting friendships, and the friends she’d made as an adult would wonder what wild adventure she was on—maybe even miss her—but would eventually get on with their busy lives. Perhaps the only person who might miss her return would be Zak, and that would be because she still owed him the other half she’d agreed upon for Thorne’s services.
No, that depressing thought was unfair and untrue. Her cousin Acadia wouldn’t rest until she was found, and she had friends who would ask questions relentlessly. That was a