She wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and pulled her saddle close to the fire. The Serians came and went about her, changing watch and moving off into the darkness. Nothing else disturbed them that night.

Dawn came gradually, lighting the bushes and trees around them, then showing individual blades of grass. She was exhausted.

“We need paper or parchment,” she said when Beko came to her. “I need to remember what was on those pages.”

“Very well. But you do know we're close to the border with the Pavissia Steppes?”

“Yes,” she said. “And so, out into the wilds.”

“I'd say we're in the wilds already.”

AS RHIANA PEELED some ground-fruits, Noon rushed into the camp. “There's something wrong with the horses!”

Nomi followed the others past the tents and into the trees, and with every step the sense of dread weighed heavier. Ramus was in her mind—in truth, he had not left her since the night before—and she could picture his cool smile.

“I thought you were here watching them,” Beko said.

“And so I have been!” Noon said, anger and confusion in his voice. “By that tree over there, watching, listening. But now the sun's up, I can see that I was fooled. I think we've all been fooled.”

Nomi could see nothing wrong. Eight horses stood there, loosely tethered to the trees, neighing softly in the cool morning mist. Some chewed grass and soft heathers; others still seemed to be asleep. It was these that Noon went to first.

“Touch them,” he said.

Beko and Rhiana went forward and touched the motionless horses. Stroked their hair, put their hands beneath the creatures' mouths, then passed them before the horses' open eyes. Their open, glazed, lifeless eyes.

Rhiana slapped her horse hard on the side. It swayed, and then its two far legs crumpled and it tilted heavily to the ground.

Nomi cried out and stepped back, stamping on Ramin's foot as she did so. The big Serian held her arms and kept her steady, but she could hear his own panicked gasp.

The other horses pulled back tight against their reins, one of them rising on its hind legs and breaking free of its tether. It turned and galloped between the trees, slipping on wet leaves and stumbling to a stop a hundred steps away.

“The other two as well?” Beko asked.

Noon nodded. “Dead. Cold. Stiff. They must have been dead for some time.”

“Poisoned,” Nomi said.

Beko turned. “How can you tell?”

“It's a guess. Ramus knows a lot about poisons from his travels. The Widow in the peaks taught him.”

Noon knelt before the dead horses still standing and scanned the ground, shifting grass with his hand. “I can't see anything,” he said.

Nomi closed her eyes and fear pressed in. This is all my doing, she thought. I should have said nothing to Ramus. I should have taken his anger and turned it back on him, not made it worse.