Ramus dropped his cup, stood, pulled his knife and backed against the rock. He felt the backpack pressed between him and the stone. To get the parchment pages, they would have to come through him.

“Serians don't fight one another,” Lulah said. She stood slowly, no real threat in her movements.

Ramin and Konrad remained seated, but Ramus recognized the look in their eyes. They were ready.

“They don't,” Konrad said, “and they won't. Stay aside, Lulah.”

“You threaten me, Konrad?”

The scarred warrior sighed and put down his cup.

“Because you have to threaten me, both of you. If Ramus does not wish to give up the parchment pages, I have to support him in that.”

“You'd stand between us?” Ramin asked.

Lulah took three steps and turned her back on Ramus, so close that he could smell her wet hair. Answer enough, he thought.

Konrad stood now, the two sides facing each other across the fire. No one but Ramus had drawn a weapon, but the false casualness with which they had been drinking their tea was now gone. Their faces were the masks of fighters, and they gave away nothing.

“They can't have them,” Ramus whispered, just loud enough for Lulah to hear.

“You think we have any choice?” she said out loud. Ramin and Konrad glanced from her to Ramus and back again.

“We can stand like this all night,” Ramin said. He took a step closer to the fire.

Ramus tensed, clasping the knife tighter in his hand.

“Just getting out of the rain,” Ramin said. Water glistened on his dark skin and ran from his long hair. “It's running down my back. Uncomfortable. But I don't mind, Ramus. I'm strong. Really, we can stand here all night.”

Ramus's breath came faster and lighter, and he felt the beginnings of panic. Lulah was right: What choice did they have? But he had so much work left to do on the parchments—he had read some of it, and seen what it could do, and what more would there be? What other wonders from beyond the Noreela that was known?

The stone was cool at his back now, its cold pressing through the backpack and soaking into his flesh. Beyond the stone, inside . . . ? He had never been into one of these cairns, because they were unique to the Pavissia Steppes, and this was as far south as he had ever come. Perhaps now was the time to expand his horizons.

He rested his forehead on Lulah's right shoulder and whispered, knowing that the rain and fire would hide his words from the two men. “A dozen beats,” he said. “Give me that if you can.” And then he ran.