He looked at it one more time, and even in the heat he could not withhold a shiver.

It said, Never wake the fallen.

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

THEY RODE HARD that afternoon, through the heat of the sun and the dust thrown up from the dried ground, and by the time Beko called a halt they were all ready to stop. He rode on ahead with Rhiana and Konrad, the three of them spread out across the trail. Nomi knew that they were making sure the campsite he had in mind was safe. They were much closer to the border with the Pavissia Steppes now, and it was not unheard of for marauder parties to make sorties into Marrakash.

She dismounted and watched Ramus do the same.

He had said very little that afternoon. She'd ridden beside him much of the time, but the moment had never seemed right to ask what had bothered him at the temple. He had returned the book to his backpack and hung it on his saddle, and his expression had looked uncomfortable rather than disturbed. Whether that was because he knew she was watching, Nomi did not know.

“I'm sore and aching and I'd kill for a bath,” she said.

Ramin laughed. “I wondered where the smell came from! And there I was, blaming my sweet horse.” He leaned forward and clucked and whispered into his beast's ear.

“Watch who you abuse, Ramin. I've decided that I'm cooking tonight.”

The Serian gave her an easy smile and touched his chest, lowering his head in a casual apology.

Nomi laughed. She felt fine. These Serians were good, and that gave her more comfort than she could have hoped for.

But Ramus . . .

She walked to him, tapped him on the shoulder and refused to drop her gaze when he turned around.

“Leave a weary old man alone,” he said at last.

“You're only ten years older than me.”

Ramus shrugged. “I feel older. Probably all the hard living I've chosen, and the good living you've endured.”

“What's wrong?” she asked, lowering her voice. She did not want the Serians to think there was a problem. Beko she could talk to if necessary, but Ramin, Lulah and Noon were still unknown to her. They made her feel safe, but the farther they went from Long Marrakash, the harder trust was won.

Ramus glanced over her shoulder, obviously thinking the same thing. “Just a bad feeling at the temple,” he said. He patted the backpack still hanging on his saddle.

“Ramus, in every story I've heard, they're benevolent Gods.”

“Of course they are. Benevolent Sleeping Gods. Who are we to wake them?”

“If it's even there. And who's to say we'll wake it?”

He came in close, his nose almost touching hers. Nomi was aware of Lulah looking their way, but she would not pull back. She could smell Ramus's breath, feel the heat radiating from his face.