Nomi rode alone. Behind her she heard Ramin and the packhorse keeping pace, and she felt his gaze on her back. And the guilt was there again, a burning conviction that the Serians thought her wrong rather than the wronged.

“WE’RE IN YOUR employ,” Beko said. His words broke the uncomfortable silence that had hung around them since they'd finished their meal. Rhiana was on guard somewhere beyond the fire's influence, but Nomi and the others sat close. Beko had insisted upon it. No slipping off between the trees, no wandering alone to gather thoughts. If there were marauders in the vicinity, he wanted everyone close. “If you request something of us, we'll carry it out if it's safe to do so.”

“Safe for you, or safe for the voyage?”

“Both.”

Nomi stared into the flames. She thought of the parchment page with the thick vertical line, and all she could recall was the side with no writing. She had convinced herself that this was not simply anger on her part, and that having those pages back was essential to the voyage.

“Could you track them?”

Beko sighed and turned to Noon.

“Some of the bodies I found had been recently disturbed,” Noon said. “Examined, not mutilated.”

“And you think it might have been them?” Nomi asked.

“I found two horse trails,” Noon said, and he shrugged.

Nomi nodded and looked back at the fire. She closed her eyes. “Beko, I'd like you to send two of your Serians after Ramus and Lulah. I need the parchment pages he stole from me. They're mine, and Ramus is involved simply because I decided this journey was too important for one Voyager alone. But this is my voyage.”

“And Ramus?” Beko asked.

“This is about the parchment, not about him and me.”

“He may fight,” Beko said. “But we won't fight Lulah. Serians never fight their own.”

“I'm not asking you to,” Nomi said.

Beko glanced at his people, then back to Nomi. “None of this feels good,” he said.

“None of it is good.” Nomi picked up a stick that had fallen from the fire and used it to stir the flames. Sparks rose and knots spat.

“I've never been on a voyage spoiled by the Voyagers,” Ramin said.

Anger surged through Nomi but receded just as quickly. She could not deny her guilt.

“Ramin, Konrad?” Beko said.

Konrad nodded. “I'm the best tracker here.”

“And the humblest,” Ramin said, laughing.

“Just telling the truth. I can track well. And you're probably the most persuasive. You can joke Ramus into submission.”

“I want your guarantee that he won't be hurt,” Nomi said.

“If you send us to get those pages, you accept the consequences,” Ramin said. The joking had gone from him now.

“I just don't—”

“What happens when he refuses to hand them over?” Konrad was on his feet, pacing back and forth before the fire.