Page 2 of Ash Storm

As Aileen snapped away—and she claimed that was one of her secrets, taking many, many shots, so she never missed that perfect moment—Reka suddenly felt something strange. She looked around them, searching for the source of the unexpected discomfort, but saw nothing.

“Just a couple more!” said Aileen.

Keeping her smile firmly in place, Reka looked surreptitiously left and right—but no, there was nothing strange, nobody out of place. And then the feeling was gone, so fast it might never have happened. Except she’d learned caution from her uncle, a man Reka knew had spent more time around evil than he’d ever let on around the family. One of the things he’d taught her was never to ignore one of those strange feelings.

“Even your camera’s exhausted, Aileen. Let’s go,” she said quickly. She wanted to leave their current exposed position and get inside the market.

As well as enormous, the market was beautiful. Reka loved the arching hallways, the strange smells and sounds. They declined innumerable offers of fragrant, warm tea, because both Chloe and Aileen knew by now that taking tea from strangers was not something Reka felt comfortable doing.

Aileen stopped outside a shop to look at a beautifully patterned carpet in earthy tones.

“It’s handmade,” the shopkeeper said. Like most people here, he spoke perfect English. “Pure wool.”

“It’s beautiful,” Aileen said sincerely.

“I’ve seen your living room,” Reka whispered loudly. “You’d have to knock down your neighbor’s wall in order to fit that inside.”

“Maybe that would be a good thing,” Chloe said, laughing softly. “Her neighbor’s that hot doctor.”

“Yeah, the hot doctor who brings home a different woman every Friday night, like clockwork.” Aileen wrinkled her nose. “No, thank you.” She turned to the shopkeeper. “Thank you so much. It is too large for my house, but it’s beautiful.”

“A smaller one, perhaps?” the man said quickly, picking up on the opportunity.

Aileen laughed, as if realizing she’d stepped right into that one. “Maybe another time. Thank you, though.”

They walked on, stopping at various shops to look for souvenirs for people back home. With Aileen’s help, Reka bought a wide leather belt for her mother, which the merchant wrapped in a dainty linen bag. Of the three of them, only Aileen understood and enjoyed the art of bargaining. Chloe was too shy, and Reka too impatient, to do it successfully.

By the time Reka looked at her watch again, it was noon. It was easy to lose track of time inside this large, covered space. Once again, that odd feeling struck her—not just odd, but actually off—that something was wrong, and that they shouldn’t stay here any longer.

“Why don’t we find an exit and get some lunch?” she asked, suddenly wishing the place was less of a labyrinth. “You must have a few places bookmarked in the area, Chloe.”

“Actually, I do,” Chloe said, looking excitedly at her phone. “This place serves the best baklava in town, apparently.”

Aileen and Reka exchanged a quick look. They didn’t have the heart to tell Chloe that neither of them particularly liked the gloopy, sticky dessert.

“Okay, let’s go there,” Reka said, catching sight of an exit and herding her friends quickly in that direction.

She breathed a relieved sigh as they finally set foot outside the covered market. Out on the streets, the sun was shining in a way that reminded Reka of summer, even though it was still early March. She drank in the light and air greedily.

“This way,” Chloe said, leading with her phone.

They walked together down some stone steps and into a smaller, populated street full of shops that looked like they’d been left out of the Grand Bazaar by mistake. Reka saw a leather belt similar to the one she’d chosen for her mother, but decided not to check the price.

Chloe’s GPS sent them into a left turn leading into a smaller, more residential street. Colorful laundry hung from lines set out between the houses on either side of the street.

They were halfway down the street when Reka caught sight of a shadow in one of the doorways.

The feeling came back then—a hundredfold. She swallowed past the stone in her belly, looking for her voice. She didn’t want to alarm her friends, but this was no longer something she could keep to herself.

It was Chloe, ever sensitive to other people’s thoughts and feelings, who noticed first. “Are you okay, Reka? What’s going on?”

“We need to get out of here,” Reka said simply. She pulled her friends closer to her, one arm around each.

The shadow stepped out fully, becoming a man. He was tall, with dark brown hair and a thick mustache. Not young, not old, maybe five or ten years older than them. Dressed in light trousers and a brown tunic, he looked like any working man, except Reka had never seen a working man sporting that kind of bulk. The tunic stretching around his thick shoulders and barrel-shaped chest looked like it was ready to rip apart.

Reka turned to look around. Behind them and in front of them, the small street was completely empty.

Every muscle in her body tensed.