Nomi smiled. “Any of you seen or heard about anything like this before?”

“I've heard of them,” Beko said. “Rokarian traps. Don't know anyone who's ever seen them.” He peered into the other huge leaves to see what meals they had caught.

“Then it's now renamed Rhiana's Trap!” Nomi said. “A fitting plant to give your name, Rhiana?”

Rhiana grinned. “At last, I have my place in history!”

Nomi and the Serians laughed, mounted up and moved on, riding more cautiously now that they knew of another peril to avoid.

When they made camp that evening, Rhiana and Noon went hunting for meat and collecting roots and herbs. Ramin patrolled their perimeter. Beko and Nomi built the fire together, their glances lighting fires elsewhere.

And that night, after food and tale-telling and before love, Nomi began to feel that her voyage was on course again.

AFTER FOURTEEN DAYS traveling through the forests, Ramus and Lulah at last reached their southern extreme, beyond which lay a bizarre landscape of interconnecting waterways and standing stones.

And then the gray people came.

They waited until the travelers had passed the last of the trees before emerging from their hiding places and launching their attack. They scurried from the forest like massive ants, hands and feet slapping the ground, their movements so fluid that they seemed to flow. Ramus saw them first, a flash of movement from the corner of his eye. He shouted to Lulah. The Serian was standing a few steps ahead of him, horse reins in one hand, the other held up to shield her eyes as she looked at the view. For some reason, the gray people bypassed Ramus; it was Lulah they went for first.

He smelled them as they drifted by, like old, musty, forgotten things. Their long hair flowed behind them, and seen through its trailing strands, the forest lost all its color.

Lulah cried out, batting the first gray person aside and stepping back as she drew her sword. But there were too many and they were on her, sticking like mud, wrapping their arms and legs around her torso, knocking the sword from her hand and driving her to the ground. Her arm flashed out and one of the attackers screeched, a high keening cry that sent a shiver down Ramus's spine. Blood splashed the air—surprisingly red—and the thing fell away from Lulah, clasping a hand to a vibrant wound across its shoulder.

Lulah's screams changed from fear to pain, and Ramus wondered what they had done to her.

He looked back into the forest and saw more of the gray people coming at him. They emerged from the gloom between the trees, and then he realized that some were materializing from out of the trees themselves, parting from trunks like smoke taking shape and form.

Lulah's screams changed again. From fear to pain, and now from pain to wretchedness.