The Conjurer (The Vine Witch #3)(55)
Outside, the storm sent a whirlwind of newspapers and dirt twisting toward the market square. She could no longer see the daylight stars through the window, but she knew the time was due for the train to pull into the station.
Elena twisted the wedding band on her finger, wanting more than ever to feel the warmth of Jean-Paul’s body safely beside her. “I have to get to the depot,” she said, unable to put it off any longer.
“You can’t truly mean to go out there.” Yanis watched her gather her things. “The ifrit could already be sniffing around the town.”
“My husband is on the morning train. He has no idea what he’s riding into. He and the other passengers are going to need help. I have to go before it’s too late.” Elena slung the strap of her satchel over her head and shoulder. There wasn’t anything of much use remaining in the bag, but her spell book and athame were like extensions of her arms.
“What about Sidra? And the fair one? They haven’t returned yet.”
Sidra had popped in an hour earlier to explain how Camille and Yvette were using perfume to put the town’s mortals to sleep. They could take care of themselves. “Yvette is safe enough with Sidra. But there’s no one to warn those arriving on the train.”
“You’d better let me come with you, then,” he said, reaching for his wooden leg. “Maybe together we can stay alive long enough for us to die with your husband.”
“Have you always been such an optimist?”
“Realist,” he corrected and finished strapping the leg to his thigh. Yanis slung his own bag full of loose items over his shoulder and wrapped his head and mouth with the scarf around his neck. Before he would allow Elena to leave, he yanked one of the drapes Sidra had manifested down from the ceiling. He ripped the cloth in two and offered Elena a manageable length. “Wrap it around your head and mouth like a mask. It will protect you from breathing in too much grit.”
Elena accepted the red silk and tied it over her head the same way he’d done, making sure to cover her face so only her eyes showed over the top. She tied it off in the back, then nodded she was ready, and together they left, taking advantage of the last moments of relative calm before the storm.
It was slow going down the hill. Elena’s legs constantly tangled in her skirt as it twisted in the wind, and her clumsy sabots felt untrustworthy on the pavement. Yanis, though, seemed to have no difficulty with his balance, limping on his false leg. She wondered if he self-spelled, given the pain he said it caused him, but it was only a passing thought as her foot finally lost traction on the grit-covered cobblestone streets. With her hair blowing wildly around her face, she slid forward on the hill and nearly tumbled; then her hand fell on a broad, hairy back. The same dog who had saved her before had bounded out of nowhere and caught her, bracing himself against the stones. Elena righted herself and was about to thank him when he tugged at her skirt. Yanis moved to intervene, but the dog bared his teeth before pulling her to the side.
“What’s he doing?”
Over the howling wind, Elena shouted, “I think he wants us to go there,” and pointed toward a narrow stairway leading to a two-story building.
Yanis cursed and leaned into the wind, following the dog. At the bottom of the steps, they found a large man wearing a leather apron curled up asleep beside a stone wall in the yard. The dog ran to the man, tugging at his pant leg and trying desperately to haul him toward the building. He dragged the man a mere few inches before stopping to pant. He let out a yelp as the wind whipped over their heads.
“He wants us to get the man sheltered,” Elena shouted. “Before the storm buries him.”
Yanis did a double take at the dog; then he and Elena grabbed the man by his legs and dragged him into the apartment on the first floor, where a woman slept upright in a chair beside her breakfast table. They leaned the man against the wall, then stopped to catch their breath. Yanis stared at the canine again. “Is this the same dog that you encountered earlier?”
“Yes,” she said. “He can be very helpful when he wants to be.”
The dog cocked his head to the right before trotting out to the lane. Elena and Yanis followed, shutting the apartment door against the storm. Back outside, the dog stood in the wind with his ears and tail up. He barked once with a good deal of insistence, then scampered off in the direction of the funicular.
“Will it even be operating in this wind?” Yanis asked.
Elena nudged her chin, and the pair put their heads down against the brunt of the storm as they hurried behind the animal. Sand and wind assaulted them from all directions until Elena was forced to keep her hand on the makeshift scarf covering her mouth to keep it in place. There was no one to run the funicular down to the depot, but the dog jumped inside, waited for them to follow, then barked once. The cable jerked, and the car ground into motion.
As the car traveled down the track on the village hillside, passing the second railcar as the opposite cable forced it back up to the top, they got their first clear glimpse at the size and ferocity of the approaching haboob. Elena squinted to see through the flying dirt. A massive cloud wall of swirling dust towered over the village, casting a sickly brown shadow as it smudged out the sun. Sand stung their skin with growing velocity, so they turned their heads, thankful for the masks over their faces. The railcar shuddered in the heavy wind, and its wheels jerked against the track. The dog barked and wagged his tail, and the car rolled forward, though Elena couldn’t be certain it was still on the track as it seemed to float over the ground.