Gavril made a noise that could be a laugh. “He does understand you, doesn’t he?”

“When he chooses. Usually only when there’s excitement or insult involved.”

“Like his Keeper.”

She glanced over. She wouldn’t say that Gavril was smiling. The curve of his lips was far too slight for that. But his eyes glowed with a rare light, one he did not extinguish when he caught her looking, though he did rub his mouth, as if to temper that sign.

Are you ever happy? Can you be? Or will you just not allow it?

She shook off the thought. Trying to understand Gavril’s moods was like trying to gauge the direction of whirling sand to avoid getting blasted.

“Speaking of excitement,” she said. “I wouldn’t mind getting a glimpse of the storm, if we’re close enough.”

He squinted up. “Looks like we might be, if that sky is any indicator. See how dark it is?”

“That means a thunderstorm is coming? There’s lightning, isn’t there? How dangerous is it?”

“It can kill a man if it touches him. It rarely does, though. Just don’t lift your sword over your head. I saw that once. We were having a mock battle in the plains and a storm blew in. They made us keep fighting, but told us not to lift our swords. It’s a challenge to the storm spirits. So of course one warrior had to issue that challenge. He lifted his sword clear over his head. A bolt of lightning shot from the sky. It hit the sword, lighting with a blast that blinded the two warriors standing beside him.”

“Did he die?”

“Exploded in a cloud of ash.”

“Truly?”

A twitch of his lips. “No, not truly. Nor were the others actually blind—”

She lifted her hand. “I’ll keep the first version.”

The twitch grew to a half smile. “I thought you might. Lightning is deadly, though, so—”

A blast of sand hit them, seeming to come from nowhere. Gavril let out an oath as he coughed.

“These thunderstorms come with wind?” Moria asked.

Gavril nodded, spitting sand.

“Then we’d best prepare for more than rain and lightning. I’ve been out in a sandstorm and—”

The wind whipped up again, and she quietly shut her mouth and eyes. It wasn’t just a single gust of wind this time. It swirled around her, blasting from all directions, and she fumbled with her pack, yanking out her cloak and putting it over her face. She peeked out to see Gavril circling, trying to get his back to the wind.

“Cover up!” she shouted. “You can’t avoid—”

A gust sent her stumbling. The wind howled now, sand battering them from every direction.

“Down!” she shouted. “Get down!”

She fell to her knees as Gavril struggled to get his tunic up over his face.

“Down!” she yelled. “Before—”