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“
Watermasters
,
”
Stilgar
said
.
The
troop
arose
in
a
hissing
of
robes
.
Two
men
stepped
out
,
lifted
the
waterbag
.
Stilgar
took
down
the
glowglobe
,
led
the
way
with
it
into
the
depths
of
the
cave
.
Paul
was
pressed
in
behind
Chani
,
noted
the
buttery
glow
of
light
over
rock
walls
,
the
way
the
shadows
danced
,
and
he
felt
the
troop
’
s
lift
of
spirits
contained
in
a
hushed
air
of
expectancy
.
Jessica
,
pulled
into
the
end
of
the
troop
by
eager
hands
,
hemmed
around
by
jostling
bodies
,
suppressed
a
moment
of
panic
.
She
had
recognized
fragments
of
the
ritual
,
identified
the
shards
of
Chakobsa
and
Bhotani
-
jib
in
the
words
,
and
she
knew
the
wild
violence
that
could
explode
out
of
these
seemingly
simple
moments
.
Jan
-
jan
-
jan
,
she
thought
.
Go
-
go
-
go
.
It
was
like
a
child
’
s
game
that
had
lost
all
inhibition
in
adult
hands
.
Stilgar
stopped
at
a
yellow
rock
wall
.
He
pressed
an
outcropping
and
the
wall
swung
silently
away
from
him
,
opening
along
an
irregular
crack
.
He
led
the
way
through
past
a
dark
honey
-
comb
lattice
that
directed
a
cool
wash
of
air
across
Paul
when
he
passed
it
.
Paul
turned
a
questioning
stare
on
Chani
,
tugged
her
arm
.
“
That
air
felt
damp
,
”
he
said
.
“
Sh
-
h
-
h
-
h
,
”
she
whispered
.
But
a
man
behind
them
said
:
“
Plenty
of
moisture
in
the
trap
tonight
.
Jamis
’
