Nomi had never paused to examine the ruin because it had never been her destination. She spared it a quick glance and noticed that it had been subsumed more by the forest since her last trip. The climbing plants' stems were slightly thicker, the lintel buried marginally deeper in the ground. A few more years and maybe this would become totally hidden, just another secret part of Clyst Forest that would fade from sight and memory until no one knew it was there.

She often wondered how many other such places had already disappeared.

She noticed Beko had paused ahead, Lulah and Rhiana just behind him. He turned around and caught her eye, and Nomi rode forward.

“Traders camped ahead,” he said.

The path through the forest was much wider here, the trees farther apart. She could see movement between the trunks, and she caught the whiff of cooking meat and spices. “Lunch,” she said.

“They're charm traders,” Beko said.

Rhiana spat. “So long as they don't try charming me.”

Beko laughed, and Nomi felt momentarily excluded.

They moved on, rounding a slow bend and passing between the first group of the traders.

A woman stood quickly from the woven mat she had been sitting on, holding out an array of fur tails. “Ward away the dark,” she said, her voice tinged with the accent of the Pavissia Steppes. “Wood cat tails to ward away the dark.”

“I just light a fire,” Noon said, laughing.

A young boy skipped along the track, trailing a length of string behind him, dried leaves from poison cacti waving in the breeze. “Cure the ills in your head,” he said, laughing manically. “Ill head! Ill head!” the boy shouted, darting dangerously close to Konrad's horse.

“Away!” Konrad said. He kicked out, but the boy twisted aside easily.

More traders tried to parade their wares, dancing and singing, pleading and whispering, some of them saying nothing at all as they offered their products to view. There were petrified pieces of dead animals; plants; objects carved from wood or stone; fine clay pitchers of dark fluids; one woman offered herself, pulling open her loose tunic to display heavy breasts and a stomach tattooed with swirling images.

They did not stop. Beko rode on and Nomi did not question his decision; there was a sense this could get ugly. When they had passed the traders Nomi turned around in her saddle to see how Ramus had reacted.

His horse stood abandoned, and Ramus was kneeling beside an old woman and her display of rope charms.

“What in the name of all the gods . . . ?” Nomi paused and let the Serians ride by, only Ramin offering her a tight smile.

“Your friend in need of some help from beyond?” he asked.