Page 5 of A Shard of Ice

There are gasps and yells from the group as everyone looks in the direction she is pointing. My mouth drops open as I do the same.

“Look!” she shouts.

I glance over at Taylor, who narrows his eyes.

“What is it?” I mouth.

He doesn’t answer, a frown forming on his brow as he makes his way to me.

To the east, storm clouds are gathering. Storm clouds in the desert. It’s happening fast. The wind picks up, whipping my hair about my face as my tie comes loose. Our fae overseers start shouting orders, trying to herd us toward the safety of the buildings.

“Sandstorm,” one shouts.

This doesn’t look like any sandstorm I’ve ever seen. At this point, every one of the miners is just standing there instead of scrambling to gather our tools and belongings.

A storm in the desert. Kakara, help us. It is a bad omen; I can feel it. This particular desert hasn’t seen rain in many sun-cycles. This isn’t normal. It smacks of magic. There is no other answer.

Taylor grabs my hand, his grip firm and reassuring. I can feel the tension in his body; his eyes scan the horizon for any sign of what might be coming our way. The first distant rumble of thunder sends a shiver down my spine.

It definitely isn’t a sandstorm.

Plumes of white start to form as we breathe in and out. Gooseflesh rises all over my body as the wind turns icy.

I look up at Taylor, whose jaw is tight. “This isn’t rain.” He shakes his head. His brown hair brushes his shoulders.

“What is it, then?” I ask, a hint of panic in my voice.

He sniffs the air. “Snow.”

What?

Can’t be!

I choke out a nervous-sounding laugh. “That’s crazy, Taylor. It doesn’t snow in the desert. It’s impossible.” And yet, I know he’s right, as more white plumes from my mouth as I exhale. The temperature is dropping by the second. I hug myself, wishing I had a coat.

By now, everything and everyone is silent. The only sound is the howling of the wind and the cracking of thunder. Even the fae have stopped what they are doing to watch the growing storm approach.

It’s exhilarating and terrifying.

The sky is blanketed in swirling clouds of white; snowflakes dance in the air as they fall in the distance. The storm grows nearer and nearer until the clouds are directly above us.

My mouth falls open. I lift my head, my eyes wide.

I laugh as the sky fills with fluffy flakes of white, gently floating down toward us. Each one is unique, some small and delicate, others larger and more intricate.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s magic,” Taylor says. “Why? What purpose does this serve?” he mutters to himself.

“We should get under cover,” one of the fae guards shouts.

No one moves. We all seem to be holding our breath as the snow drifts down. One more flash of lightning streaks across the sky, and then calm descends. The wind is no longer as fierce.

The air has a faint smell of cold, like the first breath of winter. I close my eyes as the first snowflake hits my face. It’s cold and refreshing. I groan. It’s been so long since I felt anything other than sand, dust, and oppressive heat.

I look up at Taylor as a single flake drifts down to him, landing on his cheek, where it melts in an instant. Taylor’s eyes squeeze tightly shut. At first, I think it is in elation, but instead, he falls to the ground as if struck. His face is twisted in agony.

“Taylor!” I yell, falling to my knees beside him.

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