Despite her sister’s insinuation, she had yet to receive anything from Natahi ka Gunzu, and she wasn’t sure what to make of that. Perhaps he was waiting until she returned home to make his move. Or perhaps—but there was no way he could know about Weysh.

Was there?

Across the room her spear leaned against her armoire, glinting in the lantern light.

Yenni slipped from bed, full of nervous energy. She needed to work off this restless feeling. First she drew on her runes, using the rune hymns both as a means of magic and worship. Her song for pain ward was also of praise to Father Ba, who listened to the fears of men and women. As she sang to infuse her speed runes, she sang to Father Sho, the divine hunter. And as she sang the hymn for strength, she venerated Father Gu the warrior.

An image from her dream suddenly flashed through her memory—the figurine of Mother Ya. Yenni paused—to dream of the Sha could be a very good omen, or a very bad one. What could it mean that she had dreamed of Mother Ya? The temperamental deity was known to conjure furious winds and lightning, and her anger resonated with Yenni’s own simmering frustration. So on the backs of her hands Yenni drew wind runes, and though it would likely make her people cringe, she offered up her wind hymn to the Mistress of Storms.

When she was satisfied, Yenni changed into the half-shirt and pants of her battle uniform, grabbed her spear, and made for the training sands.

The night sky hid behind a veil of clouds, and the moon was a shy, shining crescent that peeped out only occasionally to glint off Yenni’s spear. It was quiet but for her sandals scraping the sand and the thud of her spear as it hit the wooden dummy. Her voice echoed in the silence with every little yell and grunt. It felt good to train. Though her problems were nothing she could confront with a spear, the weight of it still felt comforting in her palms.

Yenni spun, bringing her spear around, and whacked the shaft against the dummy’s side, practicing a blunt attack, but her hit landed a little lower than she’d intended. Frowning, she backed up to try again . . .

. . . and gasped as a quick, sharp pain zipped through her abdomen. The warning rune flashed bright white on her bare stomach. She glanced up. Darts of steel came flashing at her.

Yenni dragged on her speed and focus runes. Her arms were a blur as she twirled her spear, the air echoing with metallic pings as she deflected the darts.