“Pitch the tent,” Marak said, and resolved on less desperate speed and a steady progress for the days ahead. They would reach Pori in the night, and then expect no more diversions until Oburan, not diverting or stopping for any wells, since they still had sufficient water and a wealth of supplies. They were making good time, having cut two days off their trek already.

They had their supper while the burning light of noon came in under the tent edges. They ate well, even extravagantly, and lay down to sleep.

But in early afternoon, Norit sat up, waking both of them with her sharp gasp.

“We should not go to Pori,” she said.

“Not go to Pori,” Hati said in amazement, when it was their chief watering stop on the way to the holy city. Marak was half-asleep, having achieved rest, and cudgeled his brain toward coherent action.

“We should not go there,” Norit said in a whisper, and seemed to look into the distance, at something not evident to them. “When we bring the rest, we need Pori, but not now. Go north.”

Norit was not the one to give them orders. Norit had expressed few opinions, until now. Marak got to one knee and put out a hand and turned her head gently until she did look at him.

“There’s no time,” she said. “We can’t wait. Take the northern trail. Tofi will know.”

When did Norit know any trails on the Lakht? “Luz!” he said, and Norit blinked, and took a deep breath.

“Take my advice,” Norit said as if she were god-on-earth, and with a lift of her chin. She drew her shoulder from under his hand as if he polluted her with his touch.

Hati had laid a hand on her knife, alarmed; but Marak seized Norit’s hand, hard.

“Wake up,” he said, and Norit blinked twice, and looked astonished at herself, on the edge of tears.

“Luz spoke through you,” Hati said.

“I heard,” Norit said, and shivered and ran her fingers into her hair, clenching it, pulling it, self-distraction. “I hear her. I don’t want to hear her.”

“Damn Luz,” he said. “We’ll go on to Pori. Never mind what Luz wants.”

Norit flashed him a look of terror. “No,” Norit said, and pain rushed through him, and through Hati, and through Norit, until pain was all there was, and he was descended to mere creature, wallowing on the ground where he had fallen. Lights flashed in his eyes and pain roared in his ears.

“Listen to advice,” Luz said fiercely in that sound, Norit leaning above him with unwonted fierceness. “It’s already begun! I can’t stop it! Do what I say!”

Pain racked him. He dragged himself up, appalled and angry. He strode out from under the tent, into the sun, and began kicking loose the tent stakes, blindly, even before the slaves had gathered up their goods.