take mine now. You save your energy for the Collector. It's time for me to look for my own past. Cheyne's face grew hot with pride and determination. His mind was made up. He would quit the dig-Javin did the really important work anyway-and go to the Borderlands, no matter how far, no matter how dangerous.
And I will not look back, he promised himself. / will never look back.
He quietly lifted the keys to the supply hut from their hook above Javin's cot. It would have to be a short night. Tomorrow, before the three sisters winked out again and Muni would rise to relieve Kifran, before Javin would sense the light and lift his head, fastening single-mindedly on keeping his precious work going, Cheyne would be back in Sumifa, finding a guide for his own expedition.
Across the dunes, in the new city, a whirlwind churned the sand into a scouring spray as it moved through the Barca, tearing the stalls down and scattering crockery, blinding three men and a shirrir-drunken woman as they reveled on the rooftops. When the wind reached the Mercanto, it blew down the sign in front of Riolla's shop, then moved over the Citadel with a new strength, finally resting, hovering over the tall spire that was the Raptor's tower. Seconds later, the sand fell to the ground outside the spire, cascading down the basalt stonework like a waterfall.