A child wouldn't survive it. Thorn didn't hesitate, not even for a second. Thorn dropped from the roof without a second thought, hit the ground running, and rushed straight for the stable. In one smooth motion, he swung onto his fastest horse. Bidziel saw him and didn't ask questions.
"I'm riding with you," she called, already mounting her own horse. "It's too dangerous," Thorn shot back. "Two sets of eyes beat one in a sandstorm," Bidziel answered, voice firm as iron. "Don't waste time. Move. " There was no arguing that.
Thorn kicked his horse forward, and they burst out together, riding hard into the rising wind. The storm was already building. Dust devils twisted across the ground, and the air itself felt alive, restless. They didn't have long. Minutes, maybe less.
They rode toward where Thorn had last seen Elara, but the world was already starting to disappear. The wind howled louder, tearing at them. Sand stung their skin like a thousand tiny needles. Thorn pulled his bandana up over his mouth and nose, shouting her name again and again. "Elara! " "There! " Bidziel yelled suddenly, pointing off to the right.
Thorn followed her line and saw the pony running wild, circling in panic, but no Elara. His chest tightened hard. She'd fallen. He drove his horse faster, pushing straight into the oncoming wall of sand, now rolling toward them like a living thing. Then he saw her.
A small shape on the ground, clinging to a bush while the wind tried to rip her away. Thorn didn't slow. He jumped from the saddle before the horse had fully stopped, and ran to her, dropping to his knees. "I got you," he shouted, pulling her into his arms. And then the storm hit, full force.
The world turned brown. Gone. He couldn't see more than an arm's length ahead. The roar of the wind swallowed everything, sound, breath, thought. Out of the chaos, Bidziel appeared beside him, like something carved out of the storm itself.
She had caught the pony, holding tight to the reins. She shouted, but the wind tore her words apart. Then she pointed. Down. Thorn followed her gesture.
A shallow dip in the land, a natural hollow. Shelter. They dropped low, crawling toward it as the storm fought to rip them apart. Thorn wrapped Elara tight against his chest, shielding her as best he could. Sand tore at his back, filled his ears, his mouth, his eyes.
Bidziel pressed in close beside them, using her own body to block the worst of it. The three horses crowded in, instinct taking over, huddling together against the storm. And around them, the desert roared like a beast unleashed. Elara trembled in his arms, crying, her small body shaking. Thorn held her tighter.
"You're all right," he shouted close to her ear. "I've got you. I'm not letting go. " Time broke apart. Minutes, maybe hours, it didn't matter. There was only the fight to breathe, to stay grounded, to hold on.
At some point through the chaos, Thorn felt something. A hand. Bidzial's hand finding his. She gripped it tight. And somehow that simple touch steadied him.