I shrugged. “Who knows what’s going through the mind of someone who’s gone to the dark? But however angry she was, I don’t think she’d hurt an apprentice of mine. I don’t think she’d hurt either of us.”

“Perhaps she scowled at me because she’s jealous—”

“Jealous!” I exclaimed.

“She could be jealous of me living in the house with you. In a way I’ve taken her place, haven’t I?”

“I suppose you have,” I replied doubtfully.

Could Alice really be jealous of Jenny? Did she miss being with me? I wondered. Angrily, I dismissed the thought from my head. My mind kept snatching at straws, building impossible hopes. Alice was best forgotten.

“Look,” I said, giving Jenny a smile, “I’ll teach you about witches, but there’s something else we can study together—the Kobalos.”

I pulled Grimalkin’s working document out of my bag and gave it to her.

“Read it carefully,” I instructed. “You’ll see that I’ve made a few additions and notes on existing entries. Eventually you might want to do the same. We’ll build up our store of knowledge on these creatures together.”

Within the hour, Grimalkin returned and leaped down from her horse. She strode toward us impatiently.

“A challenge has just been made and accepted,” she declared. “They fight an hour before sunset. If we ride now, we might be in time to see it.”

We mounted our horses and followed a river that meandered through a valley. It was bordered by dark conifers—there were few deciduous trees in this place. From the heights above it, we could see scores of campfires sending brown smoke spiraling up into the sky. As we descended, we had a good view of the gathering below on the southern bank. There were perhaps two thousand people there—at least five separate camps, each cluster of tents marked by a standard. There were also a large number of stalls, along with a neat line of cooking fires and larger tents set up on the periphery of the camp. Traders, artisans, and merchants had moved in to meet the needs of all the people. I could smell roasting pork on the wind and hear horses being shod.

“That’s the Shanna River,” said Grimalkin. “And beyond it, to the northeast, is the Plain of Eresteba, which is Kobalos territory. Until recently, there were Kobalos settlements on this southern bank too. They retreated several months ago, and soon afterward the Shaiksa assassin Kauspetnd arrived to issue his challenge. Why they pulled out, I don’t know. But there is something ritualistic about the challenge. Perhaps it must be done across a river that divides our peoples? There is still much for us to learn.”

As she spoke, I saw the intensity in her eyes—hints of the fanaticism Jenny had spoken of.

Grimalkin led us down the slope toward the river, which ran from east to west. As we rode between the lines of tents, many warriors turned to gaze at us. The expressions on their faces ranged from curious to hostile. She guided us to a quiet spot, far from the other tents, and we set up camp. While I quickly erected our tent with Jenny, Grimalkin lit a fire and then did something surprising. She took three pieces of wood that had been lashed to her saddlebags (I had originally assumed that they formed part of the tent) and fitted them together to make a long pole. Next she fastened to the end a piece of cloth, and as Jenny and I looked on in astonishment, she thrust the other end deep into the ground.