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Book Three: The Prophet
Shespokefromthetent’sgloom,anothershadowthere:“It’snotyetfulllight,beloved.”
“Sihaya,”hesaid,speakingwithhalfalaughinhisvoice.
“Youcallmeyourdesertspring,”shesaid,“butthisdayI’mthygoad.IamtheSayyadinawhowatchesthattheritesbeobeyed.”
Hebegantighteninghisstillsuit.“YoutoldmeoncethewordsoftheKitabal-Ibar,”hesaid.“Youtoldme:”Womanisthyfield;gothentothyfieldandtillit.’”
“Iamthemotherofthyfirstborn,”sheagreed.
Hesawherinthegraynessmatchinghimmovementformovement,securingherstillsuitfortheopendesert.“Youshouldgetalltherestyoucan,”shesaid.
Herecognizedherloveforhimspeakingthenandchidedhergently:“TheSayyadinaoftheWatchdoesnotcautionorwarnthecandidate.”
Sheslidacrosstohisside,touchedhischeekwithherpalm.“Today,Iamboththewatcherandthewoman.”
“Youshould’veleftthisdutytoanother,”hesaid.
“Waitingisbadenoughatbest,”shesaid.“I’dsoonerbeatthyside.”
Hekissedherpalmbeforesecuringthefaceflapofhissuit,thenturnedandcrackedthesealofthetent.Theairthatcameintothemheldthechillnot-quite-drynessthatwouldprecipitatetracedewinthedawn.Withitcamethesmellofapre-spicemass,themasstheyhaddetectedofftothenortheast,andthattoldthemtherewouldbeamakernearby.
Paulcrawledthroughthesphincteropening,stoodonthesandandstretchedthesleepfromhismuscles.Afaintgreen-pearlluminescenceetchedtheeasternhorizon.
