Kira didn’t know what her horse’s name was, since they’d been stolen, so she passed most of her day trying to think of something appropriate. Samm’s horse was willful, and stubborn, so she wanted to name him Haru, but she knew none of her companions would appreciate the joke. She reflected that she could just as easily name a stubborn horse Xochi, or Kira for that matter. She searched for something else and settled on Buddy, a boy she’d known in school who fought with the teachers almost on principle, because they were in charge. Samm’s horse seemed to have the same attitude. Heron’s horse, on the other hand, seemed almost determined to obey her, or perhaps Heron was simply better at controlling it. Calling on the same well of acquaintances, Kira named this one Dug, after a perennial overachiever from her intern program. Her own horse, a bit of a goofy trickster, she named Bobo, and Afa’s poor mount she named Odd, or Oddjob, or any number of other permutations as the mood struck her. If Heron was the best at managing her horse, Afa was the worst, and the poor animal seemed at times just as confused as he was, bobbing its head and shuffling sideways and sending Afa into fits of frustrated grumbling. It was almost funny, but it kept them slow, and Kira tried to give him riding tips when she could. It didn’t seem to help.

It was near nightfall when they heard a cry for help.

“Hold up,” said Samm, reining his horse Buddy to a stop. The others stopped with him, listening on the wind for another sound. Oddjob stamped and snuffled, and Heron shot Afa a dirty look. Kira tried to focus, and heard the voice again.

“Help!”

“It’s coming from over there,” Samm said, pointing down a gully by the side of the road. There were lakes all through these hills, and tiny rivers and streams had cut paths between them for centuries. The gully in question was thick with trees and underbrush.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Heron. “We don’t have time to stop.”

“Someone’s in trouble,” said Kira. “We can’t just leave them.”

“Yes, we can,” said Heron.

“It’s a Partial,” said Afa. “I’m the last human on the planet.”

“It’s not a Partial,” said Samm. “I’m not linking with anyone.”

“They might be too far away,” said Kira.

“Or downwind,” said Heron. “I don’t like it either way—any humans we meet would likely love to ambush a group of Partials, and we know our faction’s not this far west.”

“I thought you didn’t have a faction anymore?” asked Kira. Heron only glared.

“Heron’s right,” said Samm. “We can’t afford the time or the risk.”