“If they don't pick up the trail today or tomorrow, I've told them to return to us,” Beko said.

“What? Why?”

“Noreela's a big place. Ramus may have gone due south instead of southeast. Maybe he's trying to take a different route. I'll not have Ramin and Konrad chasing phantoms when there are enough dangers out there already.”

“How big do you think the marauder party was?”

“Noon thinks a dozen horses, maybe more.”

Nomi considered that, and though she was no warrior, it was easy to recognize superior odds.

“Remember, I've fought them before. They're vicious, but not trained. Brawlers, not warriors. Weapons are usually old ones stolen from people they've attacked. And there's as much fighting between marauder clans as there are attacks on travelers.”

“Are you trying to tell me we'll be safe even if we do meet them?” Nomi asked.

“I'm saying we'll have a chance. Hopefully we'll ride right past them, but if we do meet up, I'm hoping they'll avoid a fight.”

“They fought at the temple,” Nomi said.

“No, that was a massacre.”

_____

THE DAY WAS long and hot, and the air seemed to abrade her skin. Nomi could not settle. Every heartbeat could bring something new, and anything new would mostly likely be bad.

What if they come back and they've killed him? What if he fights? What if Lulah fights for him, and they have no choice but to kill her? She went with him for her own reasons. Maybe she's much more for him than for her Serian friends?

What have I started?

What have I done?

She remembered the days of her illness and how terrified she had been, told that she was going to die and helpless to stop the sickness growing in her brain, sending its tendrils through her skull and forcing her to face mortality far sooner than she had ever expected. There had been nightmares that she could not recognize, alien visions of drowning and fading away, and then the option for survival placed before her by the Ventgorian shaman. The guilt had preyed upon her ever since, but it was a price she had paid for life.

Poor Ramus, she thought. Damn Ramus. She hoped she would never see him again, but she could not imagine events working that way. There was much about this voyage that breathed destiny.

JUST BEFORE MIDDAY, the land they rode across started to turn to marsh. And after midday, when the sun had more life behind it than in front, Nomi saw her first marsh wisp.

The heat brought steam from the ground, and the landscape was reminding her more and more of Ventgoria. The horses' hooves squelched down into the soft loam, and spreads of stagnant water reflected dark rot at the sky. If she closed her eyes, she could almost smell the Ventgorian grapes on their suspended vines.

A shape darted across the ground, leaving no footprints or splashes in its wake.