Lucy and the Sheikh(43)

“What the hell is that?” She sat forward, peering at the expanse before them.

“It’s the khamseen.” Razeen glanced at her and for the first time she noticed he didn’t look merely tense, he looked worried. “We knew one was forecast but it’s moving more quickly than we thought.”

“Will we get back to the city in time?”

“Let’s hope so, or else we’ll be lost. We rely on the compasses for navigation.” He tapped the one in the car. “The khamseen brings electrical disturbances that makes them useless.”

Lucy’s hand gripped the compass that hung around her neck. A frisson of fear ran through her body. “Right.” Lucy stared at the apparition that appeared like some enormous living being—terrible and majestic—as the clouds continued to spew forth upwards, as if ejected from a giant volcano. “So how far is the city now?”

“An hour away.” He glanced at her and mustered a grim smile. “But don’t worry, Lucy. We’ll get to the city in time.”

But she could tell by the way he gripped the steering wheel his words were designed to reassure, not to tell the truth.

“And if we don’t?”

He shrugged. “We will have to sit it out. But we will get there in time. It’s moving fast upon the city. But then, so are we.”

“So it’s a toss-up as to who gets there first.”

He didn’t answer as he shifted gears to get the vehicle up a particularly steep incline. From the top of the incline she could saw the city—all soft ochre and sand tones, sitting quiet and vulnerable in the path of the oncoming storm that massed red and terrible now, obliterating from sight everything behind it as it grew into a massive wall of whirling sand.

“There are scarves in the back, wrap one around your head and mouth.”

Lucy didn’t question him. She plucked a couple of scarves and wrapped one around herself. She lay another one around Razeen’s shoulders so he could do the same once he’d stopped driving.

The cars tore through the empty streets as the khamseen hit. The series of gates slid open and the cars sped up into the palace. The trees were bent double and sand filled the air. Razeen pulled up beside the door and quickly wrapped the scarf around him. As soon as ghostly apparitions appeared, completely swathed like mummies, Razeen called “now!” and Lucy jumped out before stopping, stunned by the massive wall of heat that hit her. For one terrifying moment she saw nothing but the whirl of sand that robbed her mouth, nose and lungs of moisture, despite the wrapping. Then suddenly Razeen grabbed her hand and pulled her inside. The doors were banged shut and they stood coughing in the main hall. Servants bustled around them, but Razeen sent them away. “Don’t rub your eyes! Come.” He took her by the arm and pulled her coughing upstairs to his suite of rooms.

They passed no one. Everywhere was empty, people having retreated to their homes and lodgings within and without the palace to make sure they were secure. There was none of the usual sounds of people, chatter, office equipment, phones ringing, only the horrible keening of the wind as it battered and glanced off every surface. Lucy looked down, blinking as she tried to clear her eyes. But no tears emerged from her eyes, despite the irritation, because the air was too dry. But she saw the sand shifting under doors, through the narrow gaps in the shutters of the window. Everywhere, the desert was threatening to overtake the city.

Once inside the apartment, Razeen led her to the bathroom, unwound her scarf and filled the basin with water. “Here, splash your face.”

She plunged her face into the running water and opened her eyes under it, allowing the water to drain out the fine grains of sand that had settled onto her eyes and skin. She stood up and pushed her wet hair from her face.

“You OK?”

She shook her head. “I’ve never, in my life, seen anything like that before.”

“It’s not something anyone gets used to, not even the locals find it easy to cope with. And it can last many days, up to fifty. But not this time. Everything stops for the khamseen.”

And Lucy’s heart nearly did, too. He stood before her, the scarf roughly pulled around his neck, his shirt gaping with his exertions, sweat slicking his neck and body despite the dry heat, his eyes intense and reddened by the sand. She swallowed. “Everything?”

“Nearly everything.”

She took a step toward him. “Thank you, Razeen. Thank you for taking me to Maia. You must have thought it stupid, but—”

He placed a finger against her lips. “Not stupid. Not stupid at all.” He leaned forward and touched her lips with his own. It was a brief kiss, hardly a kiss, but it was enough to make Lucy lose her train of thought. He stepped back abruptly. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry, I—”