They also saw serpents that seemed to float on the curtains of mist. Their bodies were transparent, their wings wide and gossamer thin, and occasionally they converged on a giant butterfly and burrowed into its body, driving it to the ground and consuming it from within. Thankfully, these serpents seemed to have a taste only for butterfly meat.

They skirted wide around the sinkhole into which the river disappeared. They had to keep at least a mile away, because to go any closer meant visibility was down to a few steps. Besides, their mounts were petrified. Noon and Ramin went from horse to horse, comforting them, whispering in their ears and stroking their necks and backs, but still the animals were jumpy and nervous.

Far from disturbing her thoughts, the shattering roar of the river allowed Nomi to think more clearly. And most of her thoughts related to Beko. Their earlier lovemaking had been clouded by being swayed, and her memory of it was further sullied by the events that had interrupted it. But last night was clear in her mind, and as they rode through the day, she could not help replaying it again and again.

Beko smiled at her and rode by her side, but he did not neglect his duty as captain of the Serians.

It was late afternoon by the time they rode out of the valley, and as the western horizon caught fire and the damp air gave them a glorious sunset, they rode into the forest to escape the river's clammy influence. They were exhausted, wet and hungry, and their ears were ringing from the thunderous river. They could still hear it in the distance, but now it was merely a murmur.

Rhiana vanished so quickly that it took them a few beats to register what had happened.

Her horse galloped away between the trees.

“Rhiana!” Noon shouted. The other Serians had drawn their bows and spread through the trees, taking up defensive positions as Beko rode close to Nomi and urged her across onto his horse.

“Hold on to me,” he said quietly, as she sat behind him.

“Hey!” Rhiana's voice cut through the loaded atmosphere, but still they could not see her.

“Where are you?” Noon slipped from his horse and moved forward cautiously, looking down at the ground and up at the trees, probing undergrowth and stepping carefully over trailing tree roots.

“Watch your step,” Rhiana said. Her voice was muffled. She started singing a bawdy song to guide Noon, and by the time she reached the second verse he was kneeling on the ground thirty steps from Beko and Nomi.

They gathered around and looked down into where Rhiana had fallen. It was a trench in the forest floor, maybe twenty steps long and taken up with five wide, deep, violet plants. The plants' leaves were cylindrical and ten steps deep, and Rhiana had become wedged at the bottom of one.