But the crash and shattering glass from upstairs spun the caravan master, his teeth bared and his left hand groping for the throwing knife in his boot sheath.
“The wind,” murmured Star, the first words she had spoken since the three of them left the study upstairs. She wasn’t looking at her uncle or at anything in particular.
But she was right. A door banged shut, muting a further tinkle of glass. One of the window sashes had not been secured properly. A gust had slammed it fiercely enough to shatter the glass.
“Are you all right?”called Khamwas.
The question impressed Samlor, for it sounded sincere-and in similar circumstances, he himself would have been worried more about his own situation than that of his companions.
“We’re going to get drenched when we leave here,” the caravan master said. “Leaving’ll still feel good. Any luck yourself?”
The Napatan grimaced. “The room’s empty,” he said. “The brazier’s as clean as if it was never used. I’m not sure it’s here at all.”
“Do not ask advice of a god and then ignore what he says,” snapped Tjainufi, who was rubbing his tiny face on his shoulder like a bird preen- ing.
“Step back,” said Samlor. “I’m coming down.”
He turned to his niece and said, “Star, dearest7 Honey? Will you be all right for a minute9”
She nodded, though nothing in her face suggested that she was listen- ing
The quicker they found what Khamwas needed, the quicker they- Samlor-could sort out his niece’s problem He jumped into the cubical room without touching the ladder
Samlor landed in perfect balance, feet spread and his left hand ex- tended slightly farther than the right so that leverage matched the weight of his long dagger Despite Samlor’s care, his hobnails skidded and might have let him fall if Khamwas hadn’t clutched the Ordonun’s shoulder The floor was dusted with sparkly stuff, almost as slick as a coat of oil