“I’ll wait, omi. Go down and set the edge of the camp closer to the cliffs than a sane man would dare, and drive down the deep-stakes and take every precaution: I don’t think the sand will fall down. I think the wind will carry it to the ends of the earth. There’s a storm coming. It’s all I know—a wind stronger than any wind. Better be closer to the cliffs than not.”

Aigyan heard him, and thought about it, and nodded, frowning in that consideration. He thought Aigyan understood him.

But he had second thoughts of Tofi and Patya, and when Aigyan and the Keran had started down that slope, he wanted to see his own charges go down early and be safe. “Take care. You’ll have our tent. See to it. Don’t make any mistakes.”

“Yes, omi,” Tofi said, and asked no questions. But Patya did. “When will you come?” she asked.

“When I’ve seen the most of our own camp come down. And the Haga. Don’t worry about us. If anyone knows the time to go down, we do.” He knew, when he had just said it, what compelled him to stay above, the simple drive to see what was coming, whether he was right about the choices he had made all along, and about what he had just asked Aigyan to do—to violate a basic rule of safety in all storms before.

But he could not overstay the margin of time they had. “Just take precautions,” he said to Tofi. “I know there’ll be a storm. The earth may shake. I don’t know if the cliffs will stand, but they’re all the windbreak we have. Be very sure of those stakes!”

Patya went with her husband. He was not easy until he saw the both of them pass that place where the besha had died, and until he knew they were down on the easier part of the trail.

Vision flashed across his senses, blinding him. Rock hit sphere.

Norit’s besha started forward, compelled by so many beshti it saw moving. But Marak still reined back. “Go down with her,” he said to Hati. “See she doesn’t break her neck, or the baby’s.”

“She doesn’t need me,” Hati said, defying him. The au’it, also, was having trouble holding her besha, but she held it, and Hati did: two stubborn, purposed women, each with their own intentions. But Norit—and Luz—left them.

Orders could not send Hati away. He knew that Norit had obeyed her voices. He had second thoughts about his own judgment, and wished now he had intervened to keep Lelie and give her to Hati, but Hati was in as much danger, staying with him… all of them up here were in danger, on the rim, when the wind came.