In her backpack she carried a sheaf of rough parchment that Volkain had given her. He'd had no quills and ink, but he had rooted around in a large wooden box and found a handful of charcoal fragments. It was enough. When they camped that evening, she would set about recalling Ten's parchment pages. For what use she could not be sure . . . but the idea that Ramus had stolen something vital to the voyage stalked her, more worrying than unseen watchers, and more certain than marsh wisps.

“Ahh, the wilds at last,” Ramin said, riding alongside her. “According to the mapmakers, at least.”

“It's what lies at their end that interests me.”

Ramin laughed, but it was more out of habit. He had a merry soul. “That's fine if you know,” he said. “Great Divide is all I've been told.”

“Isn't that enough?” She was hardly surprised that he knew their destination.

Ramin nodded his head from side to side, considering. “For now,” he said. “But when things get harder, be warned we may need more to drive us on.”

“When things get harder?”

“I like horse meat as much as the next Mancoserian, but dead horses on a voyage aren't good news.”

“You think he hasn't finished?”

“It's not my place to say,” Ramin muttered.

“You started this conversation, so finish it.”

The Serian sighed. “I don't dislike you, Mam Hyden. And if I didn't know better, I'd say you have no harm in you. But what I heard . . . well, if I were your absent friend, I'd be a long way from finished.”

“He wants to get there before me,” Nomi said. “He won't waste his time with more games like last night.”

“I play games,” Ramin said. “Back in Mancoseria, I was very good at them, before I took my seethe-gator. Head ball, whip slash. They take dedication and determination, but a lightness of approach. Go in simply to win and you're guaranteed to lose. Believe me, last night was no game. And if he wants to reach the Divide before you, speed is not the only way.”

They rode together in silence for a while longer, but neither of them spoke again until Beko called camp.

THAT NIGHT’S CAMP had a much more restrained feel than before. Even the previous night, with what had happened between Ramus and Nomi fresh in their minds, there had been no real sense of danger. But now that they were on the Pavissia Steppes, Beko and the Serians took their purpose more seriously. Rhiana had scouted ahead a couple of miles until she spied a suitable campsite, and upon her return the others had waited while she and Beko went to check it out. After pronouncing it safe, they rode the last couple of miles. There were always at least two Serians on guard while the camp was set up, and the fire they built was smaller than usual, shielded by screens built of stone and mud.