He felt… awkward. Sarraya knew now, knew his secrets, and that made him feel strangely vulnerable. She was a friend, but she saw him at his worst, had seen every aspect of his worst, and he wasn't sure how to take that. His Were pride was stung; he had admitted weakness to an inferior. Part of him wanted to prove to her that he was still strong, that he was still dominant. Part of him wanted to prove it to himself. The Human in him was glad that Sarraya was with him, for she gave him someone to talk to, someone to confide in, someone to hear his troubles with a sympathetic ear and provide comfort and reassurance. She had allowed him to sleep, to rest without the terrifying nightmare to disturb him, and he couldn't thank her enough for that. She was a companion out in this blasted wasteland, a safeguard against isolation. He was both glad and unsettled that she was with him, but that was only natural for someone who often had two minds about everything.

He ran on over the heated rock, on pads that had toughened to deal with the harsh things on which they tread, with Sarraya's buzzing wings telling him that she was close. Fifteen days. Alot had happened in those fifteen days. He'd met a Selani. Twice. He'd seen the mighty kajats, had gotten into two fights with them. He'd seen the killing lizards, the umuni, but he'd yet to see some of the other wildlife that Allia had described. He hadn't seen any inu yet, but he figured that was a good thing. The way Allia talked, the inu were the worst of them. Inu literally meant quick death in Selani. He wasn't sure if that was a testament to their speed, or how effective they were at bringing down a victim. Either way, the Selani were very hard to impress, so if they gave a monster that kind of name, there was absolutely no doubt that it was a name well earned. He hadn't seen the massive armadillo-like kusuks, fifty-span long beasts that looked like gigantic rolly-polly bugs that were often found under rocks. He had yet to see a single chisu, moderately sized reptiles that ate whatever plants that they could find, and served as the main meal item for kajats and inu. Allia said that the Selani didn't herd them because they had very nasty dispositions, and their flesh did not taste very good to Selani. It had to be a reptillian version of mutton, an animal that humans herded for wool and food, but few actually enjoyed eating. Nor had he seen the draka, insectoid creatures that looked like giant ants. From what Allia had said, draka were very docile and gentle, and were often herded by Selani. Not because they were good to eat, but because they could live well with the herd animals the Selani did eat, and they were very alert. Draka were exceptionally gifted with sharp senses, and they warned the Selani when something dangerous to the herds was nearby. In exchange for their service as sentries, they were kept fed and sheltered. It was a mutually beneficial relationship. The draka kept the Selani from losing their goats and sukk, the huge, flightless birds that served as the basic staple of the Selani diet, to roaming predators.

But he was in the corner of the desert. From what Allia described, most of it didn't look like this. Most of it was barren soil dotted here and there with tough desert plants, just enough graze to support their animals. This was a very barren part of the desert, all sand and rock, and there was nothing here to support any great amounts of wildlife. He'd encountered two kajats, but he hadn't seen anything on which they could prey, so they had to be wandering, hunting for new territory. Not all of the Desert of Swirling Sands was quite as desolate as this corner of it.

Tarrin pulled up. The western horizon, which was now off to his left since he'd been travelling northwest as per Var's advice, was starting to darken. He knew what that meant. "Sarraya," he called as he pulled up, "there's a sandstorm coming in."

"I see it," she replied. "This place is pretty bare. We'll have to dig in."

"Not much to dig into," he grunted, looking down at the bare stone beneath his feet. "And it'll let the sand drain into whatever we make."

"Then let's raise the stone," she replied. "You think you can do that?"

"Sorcery?"

She nodded. "I can't do that with Druidic magic."

"It would be easy," he said after a moment of contemplation. Basic Earth weaves. Simple. "I wouldn't even need High Sorcery for it."

"Then I'll choke down on you pretty hard," she commented, flying up to him. "This is as good a place as any."

"No doubt there," he agreed. The nearest rock spire, wall, or irregularity in the bare stone was a few longspans away, and they didn't have that kind of time. "Instead of raising a stone shelter, why don't I just use a Ward?"

"Because I'd rather have a shelter," she said. "If your Ward fails, we'll be exposed. The rock will still be there."

"You have a point," he acceded.

It was a pretty simple process. He felt Sarraya's Druidic magic fall over him like a blanket, and he reached through that restrictive presence to the Weave. It responded to him sluggishly, and he drew in the sweet power of it as quickly as the Faerie's barrier would permit. When he had enough, he began weaving flows of pure Earth, sending them down into the ground as he released them, then he raised his paws in a gesture. The stone in front of him began to swell, expand, then it suddenly began to rise from the rock table like a folded cloth pushed up by a pet beneath it. Streaming the magic through him, letting it flow through him as it continued its work, he systematically raised up the stone to form a triangular wedge, very low to the rocky floor of the desert, and gently sloped on both sides so that the wind wouldn't eddy around the top and cause sand to build up on the leeward side. It was just high enough to let him stand fully erect at the center without hitting his head. The rock continued to move, to flow, changing its color as its substance shifted to his directions, and throughout there was a low grinding sound, as if the stone did not flow as smoothly as it looked to move. He sealed up both sides of the triangular structure, then opened one side into a narrow entrance. After that was done, he formed a crude door of stone, drawing the stone right from the earth, and attached it to the structure with simple eyes and hooks. He remembered to make a slot on the back and on the walls flanking it to hold a bar, then formed a stone bar so the door could be secured against the wind. The last little detail was a series of tiny holes in the top of the door, just enough for air to get in, but not enough for sand.

Once he had the shelter formed, he used another form of Earth weaving to harden the stone to the wind, make it very hard to wear down, giving it strength to stand against the wind and the scouring sand it would carry within.

Blowing out his breath, he let go of the Weave and surveyed his handiwork. Then he marvelled at how it felt to use Sorcery safely, to be able to use the gifts granted him through birth without fear of them destroying him. How much others took it for granted! It wasn't until he let go of the Weave that the sweetness of it touched him, reminded him of what it once felt like to be a Sorcerer, to command the power and not fear it as he did now. What would have been commonplace, child's play, for Dolanna, Dar, or Keritanima was something for which he had to prepare, plan, get cooperation from Sarraya to accomplish.

How wonderful it would be to be able to use his magic the way they did.

But such warm thoughts were doused when the eyeless face seemed to settle into the back of his mind, reminding him that there was no escape from it, reminding him of the darkness he had perpetrated, the darkness that had blackened his soul. It effectively sucked away the joy, the satisfaction he'd felt at creating the stone shelter. He sighed morosely and looked to the western horizon, guaging the speed and direction of the storm. It was bloody fast, and it was coming right at him. As all storms seemed to do. At the most, they had about ten minutes before it hit. It wasn't a very large one. They'd be stuck in the shelter for at least a day, but no more than three, if he estimated the sandstorm correctly.