The Phoenix People

Chapter Fifty-Two

It didn't take the Outlanders long to decide against bringing me back alive.

My Skimmer suddenly swerved and I almost toppled off in my shock, regaining my balance just in time.

Where we had just been, an arrow whistled through the air, soon losing momentum and falling to the sand.

"Damn," I cursed, bending as low over the Skimmer as I could without crushing Jack. I wanted to be as small of a target as possible.

A hazy strip appeared on the horizon as my Skimmer swerved again, less drastically this time. My heart lifted as I saw the very faint, looming shadow of the Fairmeadow castle.

I was almost home.

Jack started to cry as the Skimmer swerved a third time, jostling us fiercely.

"Oh, you've been doing so well," I moaned. This was the last thing I wanted to deal with at the moment. I couldn't exactly pause to comfort the child. I just stroked his head and whispered empty words of comfort, knowing full well that the messages were being ripped away by the wind.

On another note, the wind was beginning to pick up. My eyes started to water from the billowing sand. Fearing for Jack's tender skin, I pulled some fabric over his head, glad for the airiness of the Outlander clothing, which would allow Jack to breathe despite being fully covered.

Speaking of the Outlanders, they had been rather quiet for the last few minutes.

I turned to find my pursuers retreating, fading into the horizon. I felt a surge of victory before apprehension started trickling in. What would make the Outlanders retreat? I doubted they had simply given up pursuing me.

Something entered my peripheral vision. Something truly terrifying.

My mouth fell open as I turned and watched a veritable wall of sand roar towards me.

"Go, go, go!" I muttered, voice rising to a scream. My Skimmer did the impossible and sped up, doubtless driven by the urgency in my tone.

The city was growing closer and closer. But then, so was the sandstorm.

I was so close to freedom, so close to home, and I was going to die. Jack was going to die.

No. That was unacceptable. This child was not going to die. Not after all he had lived through, and certainly not on my watch.

From my very rough estimations, it would take at least an hour before the desert tapered into the grassy strip of land bordering Fairmeadow. The sandstorm, however, would hit me in mere minutes.

I turned the Skimmer towards the left, angling him so we were still destined for Fairmeadow but had longer before the sandstorm hit. It also meant that we had longer until we reached my home, but that was the least of my worries.

There was nothing to do but hope I would reach the edge of the sandstorm before it hit.

The winds grew even louder, hurting my ears and wholly swallowing Jack's screams. The sand whipped up faster and more painfully until I was forced to squeeze my eyes shut and simply hope that we were still heading in the right direction.

There was nothing but the wind screaming in my ears and the sand scraping at my face - and we weren't even in the belly of the storm. Things were about to get worse - much worse.

Somehow, the wind got stronger, the sand bit harder. And I knew then that we weren't going to reach the end of the sandstorm in time.

I dismounted the Skimmer. It stopped floating and dropped to the desert floor, something I wasn't aware it could do.

I huddled at its head, wrapping our faces in the extra clothing. I gripped the fabric around our heads with all of my strength, gripping it tightly so the sand couldn't get in and at our faces.

Then we waited.

When the belly of the stom hit, it was all I could do to hold our protection. Still, sand managed to find its way in, chafing my exposed skin painfully. I could only imagine what it was doing to Jack's soft skin. I understood why the Skimmer had landed - it would have been blown away otherwise. As it was, all three of us were slowly sliding across the desert.

It seemed like forever as the wind and sand bombarded us. We were caught in a vortex of sound and confusion and pain.

Finally, it passed. I was left gasping, choking, and spitting out what little sand had found its way into my mouth.

I unwrapped us and threw the handfuls of sand-caked fabric to the ground. I held Jack away from my body to examine him. His skin was raw and red, although the latter might have also been a result of his continued sobs.

I cleared what sand I could from his eyelashes, ears, and nose before shaking out the cloth and tying him to my chest once more.

The Skimmer seemed rather unaffected. With shaking legs, I heaved myself back onto it, pointed it in the right direction, and told it to venture onward at a much slower pace than before. Then, I rolled onto my back, still gripping the animal's sides, and closed my eyes against the harshness of the sun, focusing on remaining conscious.

I didn't know how much time had passed before the Skimmer slowed to a stop.

I sat up and dismounted, staggering slightly and hugging Jack with one arm. Turning back to the creature who had delivered us across this godforsaken desert alive, I rested a hand on its head.

"Thank you," I whispered. It blinked trustingly up at me.

I gave it the signal to return to camp and watched as it slowly turned around and started the long journey back to its home. I felt a strange wave of sorrow and knew that if any moisture was left in my body, I would have cried. As it was, I stood silently until the Skimmer was a faint smudge on the horizon.

Finally, I, too, turned and left the desert for good.