CHAPTER SIX
Dust tracked his prey through the night, seeing well enough in the dark that he needed only the starlight, following the signs that the world presented to him with equanimity. A spider’s web spun the wrong way had him split from the path. A tree whose knots looked like the ancient Gaath sign for travel told him that he was on the right route.
“Everything is right, because it cannot be other than as fate decrees,” Dust reminded himself as he walked. Such were the words that the priests in his home had taught him, until no part of him could deny the truth of them. “Against the power of fate, all are small. Who would swim against an ocean?”
The truth of it seemed like an absolute to Dust; was an absolute, since those who questioned the will of fate’s signs usually found themsel
