“I told you, I don’t know,” Trey whispered. “Give me a moment.” He sat back and closed his eyes, and Alishia’s gaze went from him back to the figure sitting by the fire. After a few heartbeats the figure raised its head, startled, looking around as if hearing something in the night. The fire spat sparks that danced in the night air, pockets of sap bursting within the logs. The sparks stayed alive until they were high up, mixing with the stars, aiming at the weak life moon.

Trey gasped and slumped, shaking his head, spitting, rubbing his temples as if trying to rid himself of some vile invader.

“Trey?” Alishia touched his shoulder and squeezed lightly.

“More than a mind,” he muttered. “There’s much more than a mind.”

More than a mind? What’s more than a mind? “We should go to talk to them.”

“No!” Trey said, louder than he should have. Alishia ducked down and watched the figure by the fire. It stood, shedding its blanket, and she saw that it was barely more than a boy. He looked in their direction but she could see nothing of his expression, read nothing in his stance. He seemed to carry no weapons. He glanced to the sleeping form, but that person remained asleep, dreaming whatever dreams had so disturbed Trey.

Alishia stood and walked toward the fire.

“Wait!” Trey hissed behind her, but she kept moving. The boy did not look dangerous. If anything he seemed afraid and alone, so surely he would welcome the company of other travelers to keep the dark at bay? Besides, he was someone new to meet, see, talk to. To question!

“Hello by the fire!” she said as she approached.

“Who’s there?” The boy edged quickly behind the flames, stooping to pluck a burning branch and hold it before him. “Hope!”

Alishia frowned, wondering whether it was some foreign greeting, but then the sleeping figure sat up quickly and she knew it was a name.

A witch! Alishia had read of witches, much good and much bad, but she had only ever seen one from a distance on the streets of Noreela City. She had heard of the tattoos they seemed to favor, used to amplify the expression of their emotions and frighten and coerce people into seeing things their way. This witch showed fear immediately . . . but it was soon stamped out by anger.

“Stay away!” she said. “Keep in the shadows where you belong.”

“I’m not here to harm,” Alishia said. “I’m cold and hungry and my horse died. I only wish to share your fire.”

“Get away and make your own,” the boy said, waving the burning branch as if offering the flame.

“Please!” Alishia said. He’s the one that the fledger could not see. The one with more than a mind. What’s more than a mind?

“Are you alone?” the witch asked.