He’d learned young—as all Amrithi learned—to keep clan and Empire at a safe distance from one another. Once, that had meant avoiding larger towns and the city of Jah Irinah, where Ambhan officials and merchants from other provinces were likely to reside. Now it meant avoiding every small village scattered across the desert’s back. Even the Irin, who understood the worth of Amrithi blood and the danger the daiva could bring in a way outsiders never could, were not trustworthy any longer. His clan were camped two days’ walk away, but he’d take a long route, just in case he’d been followed by a villager in search of glory or coin.

In three days then, if all went well, he’d be home.

He walked for a time, under the weight of a burning, cloudless sky. Then he stopped and swore into the air until he felt mildly better. He took out his water container, drank three swigs in succession, and kept on walking. There was shelter ahead—an outcropping of rock that would provide him shade until the hottest part of the day had passed. He could remain there until the air had cooled a little, then continue his journey in peace.

When he reached the shelter, he found it occupied.

A woman was sitting in the shade, her legs neatly crossed, her face swathed by the hood of her robe. Both of them were frozen for a long moment. Then Kamal took a step back and began to reach for his dagger.

“Calm yourself,” the woman said. She lowered her hood, then raised her hands to show him they were empty. “There’s no need to be afraid of me. I’m a fellow tribeswoman.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

She was a tribeswoman, he didn’t doubt that. But it had been a long time since he’d crossed paths with a member of another clan, and he didn’t know how to feel at the sight of her.

Her eyes searched his face with equal unease.

“I’m looking for a clan,” she said finally. “They used to pass through this area. A clan led by a Tara named Ruhi. Do you know where I can find them?”

Kamal kept his mouth shut. The woman stood and began to approach him slowly. With the sun above her, he could see her far more clearly. She was beautiful, dark-skinned and long-haired, but she was painfully thin, great shadows carved beneath her eyes.

“The clan was led, before, by a Tara named Rukhsar. Her mother.” The woman frowned faintly. “Ruhi may have passed on. If so, the new Tara won’t be of her blood, I expect. Do you know of the clan?”

“Where is your clan?” he managed to ask.

“Long gone,” she said. “I left Irinah a long time ago. I’ve had no choice but to return.”