Izoven: Inferno

Chapter 4

Blazing heat stung against Emery's skin. The sand smacked against her face every two seconds. She sputtered out, hating the off-putting crunch of a few grains of sand that had snuck into her mouth.

She fully realized the Sahara desert was big; it took a gigantic chunk out of Africa. The pictures and videos she'd seen presented it as a vast landscape, but one could never fully comprehend something until they experienced it firsthand.

In short, desert life would take some getting used to, and she did not come prepared.

She wished she could reach into her backpack for her sunscreen, but she was too busy holding on to two bags and praying to Izoven so that nothing fell off the shaky jeep they rode on.

"Excuse me," Emery exclaimed as soon as the driver eased his foot from the gas. She'd barely been able to get a word in over the roaring engine. "Could you raise the windows?"

"I close the windows, and then you will ask me to turn on the air conditioner. No, no. We're almost there. Sit tight," he said, waving a dark hand an inch away from Emery's face.

Poppy laughed at her. "Here, I'll help you," she said, reaching into her backpack as the jeep rocked viciously on its way down a tall dune.

Emery's mouth stretched into an excited grin. "You got some kind of sand protection spell or—Oh." Her enthusiasm flickered out like the wick of a candle when instead of magic, Poppy pulled out a plain old safari hat and plopped it onto Emery's head.

"There. That should help." The girl smacked her hands together before putting two fists on either side of her khaki pants.

Well, it was better than nothing. Pinching the hat's straps close to her chin, Emery turned her head to the window. Where the hell is this supposed House?

Their arrival in Mali was discreet. With the help of the House of Wind's extensive resources, they got on a private flight to an exclusive hangar, where a man with a jeep was already waiting for them. An hour of sand and bumpy dunes later, they were still nowhere. Just sand, sand, sand, and the occasional cactus.

As exciting as visiting the Sahara Desert was, there was a growing worry in the pit of Emery's stomach.

She turned to stare at the side-view mirror. Theo, sitting in the front seat, met her gaze. Just as she was hoping he read her mind, he pressed his lips into a thin line and furrowed his brows.

Theo sniffled and cleared his throat as he tore his gaze away. "Jordan, was it?" he asked the man while he fiddled with the top button of his beige shirt.

"Yes." It didn't seem like Jordan meant to make conversation. He kept both hands on the steering wheel, even when his sunglasses were sliding off his sweaty nose. They slipped enough for Emery to see his unwavering gaze—a man on a mission.

Theo clicked his tongue and squinted at the man. "How close is 'almost there'? We've been driving a long time."

Jordan groaned and lulled his head back. "Ugh, so much talk. I said we're almost there; we're almost there." The car jerked harshly as it climbed up another dune.

"Eyes on the—" Emery's words died on her lips.

"Desert?" Poppy tried to finish for her, her giggles filling the space.

"Stop worrying." Melinda, who'd until now been taking a nap with her cheek pressed against her seatbelt, grumbled awake. "He's right. We're almost there."

She looked all around her, but Emery could scarcely identify a figure that wasn't a round pile of yellow. "I don't see it."

"Because you are not meant to see it," Jordan explained. "You think we would hide in plain sight like your House? Foolish."