Nomi felt a little safer. But only a little.

The dark skies were the same here as back in Marrakash. The stars shone the same light in the same patterns, the moons had barely moved and the scattered clouds knew no borders. And yet everything felt different. It took Nomi until after their meal to realize that much of the difference was within her.

Ramin told a tale, standing close to the fire and talking in low tones. He eschewed Mancoserian history and instead relayed a story about when he had first come to the Noreelan mainland. It involved a tavern, a huge whore and the intervention of the whore's lover, but though Ramin colored it with effortless humor and a natural storyteller's grace, Nomi could not find it in herself to laugh. Perhaps it was because of the exchange she'd had with Ramin that afternoon. He could tell them about fat whores and livid lovers, but nothing could erase his belief that they were heading toward bad times.

After the tale, Ramin went out to relieve Noon for his watch, and Nomi made her excuses and went to her tent. Beko did not even acknowledge her leaving the campfire, and that was another factor contributing to her sudden loneliness. Away from familiar territory, in the wilds, Ramus was perhaps out there seeking to do her harm . . . and the man who had become her lover was shunning her just as quickly.

She sat before her open tent and took the parchment pages from her backpack. They were dry and brittle, but the charcoal was soft and fine. She placed the first sheet on the ground before her, and if she leaned aside she could see its surface quite clearly in the moonlight.

Nomi drew the largest rectangle she could on the uneven parchment, and then she tried to remember.

BY THE TIME Beko and Rhiana entered their tents and suggested she do the same, Nomi had moved on to the second sheet. The first was a tangle of scribbles and crossings-out, and she had crumpled it up and thrown it behind her into the darkness. Now she stared at a sheet with a drawn border and one vertical line. She could remember nothing else. If she closed her eyes, she knew that there had been pictures, letters and glyphs, and though she could recall seeing a page with many images, she could not place or define any of them.

Resisting the urge to curse and shout, Nomi cast a long stare at the darkness around the camp before entering her tent.

That night, she slept with her knife still strapped to her thigh.

Chapter 10

Chapter 10