The horned viper was hiding in plain sight, curled onto a rock of the same golden colour, sunbathing in the Suhrian heat without a care in the world, unaware that it was drawing its last breaths. As the wind blew over the deserted plains, the snake squeezed its eyes shut.

Scirocco

She crawled closer on her stomach, careful not to make any sudden movement. In her hand, the blowpipe Nana had given her for her birthday. The dart was already in place. She set her lips to the pipe. All she had to do was blow.

Scirocco

Just then a furious gust of wind raged over her, covering her in a layer of sand. The sweat that rolled down on her face mingled with the harsh dust. The vile taste of earth crunched between her teeth.

She repressed the urge to yell; it was no use. Ever since she had found out what she was capable of, now almost two years ago, the wind had always called her, not the other way around. The whistling voice aided her like a lashing whip guiding caravans of horses and dromedaries through the dunes. Not all bad; just aggravating.

The viper raised its head and turned it gracefully—as all snakes could, but not towards her. A tongue-flick.

It had spotted something.

Not wasting the opportunity, she re-aimed the pipe at the creature, took in a good nose-full of air, then blew it all out in a single, powerful puff. Just the way Indra had taught her.

The dart flew straight and hit the stone instead of the viper's neck. Before the minuscule arrow landed on the ground, the snake was already slithering away.

Curse the holy family! Grabbing her empty bag, she dashed behind the hissing sound. She blew another dart, but missed by over ten feet. 

Catching slow and dimwitted scorpions had been much easier than skittish snakes. Their venom wasn't even that potent, though the potions lasted longer, and drinkers showed fewer side-effects. Plus there was simply more venom in a viper than in a scorpion. Nana no longer had to spend two hours per day milking the deadly creatures.

Her feet were starting to sink in the loose sand. The viper was fast, so she had to be faster. For Nana.

Sci ran along with the wind, gaining speed, then right before the ground sloped downwards, she slipped on her knees onto her empty bag and glided into the valley. She sped past the bewildered viper who didn't even come near her as it swayed forward.

The excitement fluttered in her stomach. From her belt, she loaded a fresh dart into the back of the blowpipe.

Scirocco!

She leapt up and turned towards her prey, the wind hoisting her high in the sky and keeping her there. Steady... aim... fire. A roar of hot air escaped her lungs. The dart sprung forth with a whooshing sound.

A shrieking hiss told her she had hit her target.

When she landed back on the ground, she found the viper's head ruptured from the rest of its body. The venom gland intact; a relief.

She left the long tail for the lucky vulture, fennec, or jackal that would find the creature on their nightly hunts and skipped down the hill to pick up her bag, momentarily leaving her catch unattended.

The woven fabric of her burlap sack hadn't liked her little adventure. The two small holes united into a larger one. She was going to need a new bag. Surely, with all the money Nana made from selling her potions, that wouldn't be a problem. And if it was, she'd steal a coin from Indra's pouch when he laid knocked out in his hammock from drinking too much araq. That would teach him!

Grinning, she looked up at the hill she had to climb to get back to Alburkhan. Instantly, the smile sunk into her sand-filled sandals. On top of the dune stood a boy, frozen, his tousled black hair bare and uncovered like he had not planned to walk into the desert. She recognised the flat nose and the rather plump outline from afar: Esen.

How much had her friend seen? Did he know now that she was a...

She still didn't manage to think the word.

Without hesitating, she rushed up the hill, leaving the viper's head where she had left it. He turned around and ran too. She couldn't see where he was now; he had disappeared from view.

"Esen, come here!" she shouted. "We can talk about this."

He returned a murmuring that didn't sound like he wanted to talk. 

Too bad—he didn't have a choice. Breathing heavily, Sci continued her chase. The plodding of her footsteps in the sand was too slow for her liking, but she couldn't risk using her powers. Not with him. Her milk brother.

Born within the same moon, Sci and Esen had met before either could laugh or sit up straight. Esen's mother was a naqib, called in to fight off a rebellion in the east ten days after he had been born. Since Ummi produced more milk than Sci could possibly drink, he stayed with them. And for the first four years of their life—as long as the rebellion lasted—he hardly ever left. Then Sci had started hunting scorpions with Indra. Esen hadn't wanted to come—too scared of anything that wasn't a cat—and their friendship had faded to a quick wave from roof to roof, and the occasional game in the streets.

Esen was explosive in everything that he did. While he could outrun Sci in short distances, he was worthless in anything beyond a few hundred feet. This was how she caught up with him.

"We need to talk," she repeated, out of breath.

He jerked away from her. "Don't touch me. You need to..." He pointed his fat finger at her.

It was easy to intimidate him. She planted her hands on her hips, making herself as big as he was. "I need to what, Esen? Whatever you think you saw, it wasn't real."

"Then why are you already denying your actions when I haven't accused you yet?"

Cursed dog! He had always been the smarter one.

She sniffed and narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing out here, without a scarf? Do you want the sun to fry your brain?"

"I followed you," he said, not looking at her. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I got curious... You leave your home at noon when others hide inside. And then you return before golden hour with creatures that take others days to catch. I thought you were onto something... animals that rather show themselves in the heat than in the shadows of the night. Turns out you're just a... just a..."

"I'm not hurting anyone, Esen. I'm not the evil being we were warned about when we were small." Sci bit her lip. "Please don't tell anyone, not even your ummi or abah."

"I should tell the khan."

"No, you shouldn't. You don't have to do anything. It's innocent... my powers... they happen when I hunt. I can't control them."

"From where I was standing, it looked like you could control them just fine."

He began walking away from her.

Sci reached for his shoulder. "Esen, I beg you."

"I respect what we had, Sci." He shrugged her off. "If you stay away from me. Don't wave at me, don't approach me. I never wanna be near you again."

"But you won't tell the khan, or your parents?"

"I won't," he said. "Bye, Sci."

"Bye."

Though he was the one who grew small, she felt smaller still. And stupid. An uneasy sensation landed in the pit of her stomach and stayed there, feeding the rest of her body with worry. How could she have been so careless? Bless the Gods it had been Esen who had sneaked up on her. This could have ended with her head as far from her body as that viper's. She shuddered. How could she live like this?

 The desert wind didn't respond.

She retrieved the snake's head and returned home to an empty house. Ummi was still at the brewery, Indra at the army, Nana selling her potions on the street, and she had lost count of the moons since she had last seen Abah.

She placed her bag by the stairs, then undid her scarf and changed into a light dress to cool down. With a cloth, she wiped the sand from her skin, then darted a look in the mirror. The back of her hair was all red; she twisted the strands into a bun, tucking it underneath untainted hair.

Like the good daughter she was, she filled the kettle with water and replaced the old coals in the fireplace with new ones. Four matches—and as many attempts—later, the embers glowed. Small flames touched the soot-black kettle.

The beads rattled.

"I'm making brew," Sci said to whoever had entered.

"I'm not interested in brew."

It was Ummi. Her face weary, her voice in league with the God of Wrath.

"Another boring day at the brewery?" Sci attempted to chirp.

"I saw Esen. He was waiting for my shift to end."

Panic soared through Sci's veins. Ummi didn't know about her powers. Nana had kept their secret. She could barely speak. "Not for Talriq?"

"Talriq wasn't in today."

"Did you say 'hi' to Esen from me?" she tried.

"Don't play innocent, Sci. You saw Esen too," she sneered. "Undo your hair."

Sci shook her head.

"Undo your hair." Ummi's voice scratched.

She scrambled backwards. "No, I like it this way."

"Scirocco..."

Wishing she could think of a happier moment, shame dominated her senses. Unable to look at Ummi, she removed the pin, and her hair fell onto her shoulders.

Ummi let out a soft gasp. "So it is true."

Sci nodded.

"How long?"

"Since shortly after my seventh birthday."

"Two whole years."

"Who else knows besides me and Esen?"

"Nana, she was the only one I told."

"Nana!" Ummi raised her voice. "Nana?"

"I can explain."

Ummi shouted, "You don't need to explain anything. How could you? Do you have any idea what this means for our family? For our reputation?"

"I do!" Sci yelled back. "I really do. I tried to hide it for so long. It's why I hunt in the middle of the day because I'm so scared of someone finding out. I can't control it, Ummi. It's like there's always someone whispering to me, every hour of the day. I try so hard to ignore them, but then sometimes..." A sob came from deep within her.

"Sometimes what?"

"Sometimes, it's so strong that I forget that I'm not supposed to listen."

"You simply forget? How can you, Sci? How can you!" Ummi raised her hand, like she was going to hit her.

Sci ducked. "I'm sorry, Ummi. I'm so sorry. It won't happen again."

"I'll make sure you remember."

There was only pure, unbridled rage in her mother's eyes. Sci writhed and cried when Ummi grabbed her by her hair and knocked her head against the kettle. That was only the beginning of the pain. Lukewarm water splashed onto one cheek as the other met the scorching heat of the burning coals. Like poison, it spread to the rest of her face. The smell of roasted meat and burnt hair penetrated her nose.

"Ummi, stop! Ummi, please!"

Her mother didn't budge. "I'm doing this for you, daughter. You'll remember this moment for the rest of your life."

Not even the heat of the Suhrian sun at the height of summer could have prepared her for the scalding torments she had to endure. The burning continued long after Ummi had released her, and she had fled to her hammock where she laid curled in a fetal position, her hand against her cheek, unable to bear anything else to touch it. Crying hurt, but she couldn't stop the tears from flowing.

Indra obeyed Ummi when she told him not to come near her. Nana didn't. After scolding Ummi and prompting it was her house they were living in, she came with a wet cloth and the comfort Sci so desperately needed.

"I'm sorry, Nana," Sci squeaked. "I'll go live in the deepest parts of the desert and never return to Alburkhan. I'll never be any trouble ever again."

"Hush, my child." Nana scooped her into a hug, then dabbed the cloth some more. "You stay right here, with me. It will all be fine."

"It won't. You don't understand... nobody understands what it's like."

"I know perfectly well what it's like," Nana whispered.

"How?"

Nana lifted her dress so high it revealed her left leg. From her just below her hip to her kneecap ran a scar, slithering like a thick snake. "Because I too had to remember to hide who I am."