As the shrubs began to disappear and the barren desert landscape took over, Jakli stopped the truck Fat Mao had provided them, paused to look for any approaching vehicles, then released air from the tires for better traction. She climbed back in and eased the truck off the road, cresting the dune that ran parallel to it, then drove for another mile in a trough between dunes before surmounting a second dune and stopping in its shadow.

They climbed out and she led Shan along the dune for fifty yards, then onto a low rise. At the top they stopped and surveyed a long bowl between the high dunes. Rock formations were scattered along the edge of the bowl and at the south end a cluster of cement foundations could be seen, with several sun-bleached timbers rising out of the sand, the ruins of the oil camp. Past them, near the south end of the bowl, was the frame of a building that swayed in the wind, and beyond it, fifty yards away, a dip in the encircling dunes where the road entered the camp. Several smaller structures, looking like tool sheds and housing for machinery, were scattered across the southern end of the bowl. The largest, big enough to garage a dump truck, was built of cinderblocks with two large rusted metal doors that opened at the center. It had survived the desert conditions better than the other structures. Beyond it against the dune on the opposite side of the bowl was a much older ruin, a stone foundation with part of a mud-brick wall still intact, its timbers no doubt long ago scavenged for fuel. To the north lay the desert, broken only by a single clump of shrubs perhaps three hundred yards from where they stood. Shan gazed to the far south, to the distant peaks of the Kunlun, where Jowa now searched. He was going to the lama field, with a Mao guide, to the grave of Khitai, in case Gendun and Lokesh visited.

A small dust devil spun around the bowl. A bird, a large carrion eater, floated overhead.

"No one," Jakli said, but as she spoke Shan pushed her down, pointing silently toward the road at the end of the bowl, where a man and a dog had just appeared at the crest of the dune.

As they watched, their eyes barely above the dune, the man turned and waved to someone behind the bowl, out of sight. Moments later two more figures appeared, another man and two boys wearing the dark, bulky clothes of herders.

They watched as the boys scampered down the dune toward the garage, the intact structure in the center, followed by one of the men.

"It's Kaju," Shan said. "But who's the other?"

"Akzu!" Jakli exclaimed, and she bolted over the dune.

Shan followed reluctantly, watching Akzu and the dog. Akzu could warn them of anyone approaching. But even if he did, where would they go? They had no place to hide.

They reached the building at the same time as the boys. A moment later Akzu arrived and greeted Jakli with an embrace, then turned toward the boys. One was Batu, who looked sheepishly at Jakli, then explained quite soberly that he had had a dream of a beautiful horse that had spoken to him and told him that as the oldest of the zheli he had the obligation to protect them. Akzu offered a silent nod, as if he was familiar with the power of such dreams. The second youth was introduced as Jengzi, a name that hinted of Tibetan origins. Jengzi offered a shy grin as he was introduced and tossed a stone against the metal doors. He stood close to Kaju, as if wary of Shan and Jakli.

Kaju watched the road with a worried expression.

"Is someone else coming?" Shan asked.

"I don't know. With Jengzi here, only one boy is left. High in the mountains, away from everything." He gave Shan a knowing glance. Micah, the American, had not come.

"I mean, from town," Shan said.

"No," the Tibetan said in an uncertain tone. "Director Ko said to bring them back when I was done, so he could present their gifts. I said after all that happened I didn't expect anyone to come."

Shan nodded. He was watching Jengzi as he listened. Jengzi had come from one of the shadow clans. He might know where Micah was.

Kaju followed his gaze. "He speaks Tibetan," the teacher said quietly. "He has an old rosary, says someone gave it to him as a baby."

"Where did you find him?" Shan asked.

"On the road, five miles south. Walking. It's what his zheli family does, he says. His foster father will not be seen. He won't go on roads, treats them like they're poison. He distrusts everyone. They came out of the high mountains last night, to bring Jengzi, then went back into hiding in the foothills. They will return to pick him up at dusk."

As Shan took a step forward, Kaju touched his arm. "Ko said something else, as I left. He said to ask if the boys would like a helicopter ride. He said he might bring the Brigade helicopter here. Ko just wants to help," the Tibetan added in an uncertain voice.

One of the boys let out a cry of surprise. Shan turned from Kaju to see Jengzi pointing excitedly toward the shadows inside the building. In the darkness beside a broken window at the rear of the structure the outline of a figure could be seen, sitting on a steel barrel. Kaju jerked Jengzi back.

"Hungry, anyone?" a deep voice called out. "I brought us some multicultural cuisine. Peanut butter." Jacob Deacon stepped out of the shadows.

Shan watched the American as the boys greeted him warmly, As if they knew him already. They eagerly grabbed the jar from his hands, opening it to explore its contents with their fingers.

The American embraced Jakli and nodded at Shan, then extended his hand to Kaju. "Small class for the new teacher," he said.

Kaju grasped his hand with a nervous glance toward the road. "I didn't expect Micah's father today. Not with all the trouble."

"Trouble? What trouble? Lau wanted the class to hear about the archaelogy digs and hear about fossils. Weeks ago she asked, and I said I'd come. I came."

"But how? You came so far?" Jakli asked. "What if someone saw? The knobs."

Deacon held his palm up to silence her protest. "Not so far, if you go straight across the sand. With a good compass and a good horse, only four hours. I left at midnight. I'll be back before the sun sets."

"You've been waiting all this time?"

Deacon pointed to a small backpack at the foot of the barrel. "I've always got research to write up." He spoke in an absent tone as his eyes restlessly surveyed the dunes. Not for the danger, Shan knew. For his son. He had come for his son.

Shan watched as the two boys squatted at Deacon's feet, still excited about the American peanut butter.

"Micah," said Batu with a grin. "He takes peanut butter with rice. He makes balls out of it." The boy looked up at the American. "Let me take some back. I'll see him in the mountains this week, I know I will. Malik and I-" The boy cast a guilty look toward Jakli and Shan. "We're going to ride up near the glaciers to look," he said in a low voice. He pulled on the American's hand until Deacon looked away from the dunes. The American knelt beside the boy and began patting his pockets, as if searching for a container that might carry a few ounces of peanut butter to Micah.

Kaju glanced back toward Akzu, who had returned with the dog to squat on the dune overlooking the road. "People are scared," he said to Deacon. "The family he's with, they're so shy. Next class, it's the full moon. A few more days. I'll be here," the Tibetan added. "I'll come alone."

"Sure," Deacon said, his disappointment obvious. "Next class." He looked at Shan and winked. "Got a date on the full moon."