Chapter Forty-Five
The Seven Breaths of El
By nightfall the most recent storm had passed, leaving drifts of snow huddled high against tent walls. Huldar paused outside the marquee and squinted at fat flakes floating down, thick and lazy like some Faythans he had known. He thought of Duvät Gok, thick and lazy indeed, but it seemed wrong to sully the purity of snow with Duvät’s darkness.
Once inside, he sat close to the fire and wrapped his cloak tighter, watching the entrance.
Since inviting Andel to be dabaku, his emotions had swerved from exhilaration to despair and back again. Every time he saw or sensed her, his heart jumped, but he found it difficult to control which way.
He sensed it when she left her tent and headed for the marquee. When she drew the door-flap aside, her slight
