“James is an interesting one. If he fears us, he doesn’t show it, but I don’t think he has guessed yet. He approached us soon after we came to these forests. Back then, we were raiding farms in the countryside and the occasional trade caravan, but he wanted us to come closer to the city. He offered us supplies and access to trade schedules if we’d help him. It works to our advantage. The armor he traded us has been very helpful.”

The detachment with which Pashla spoke about the city raids was unsettling. “Why do you fight the humans?”

Pashla gave her a curious look. “You think like them.”

It was the same response she had gotten from Adele and Mela—not flat-out disagreement, but puzzlement, as if the idea were so bizarre that it didn’t even brook consideration. Kyra waited for Pashla to explain, but she didn’t.

“Pashla,” Kyra finally said, “you never told me why the clan came here in the first place. Why are you wandering?”

“It’s a long story, going back to when I was very young. Our people lived on the western side of the Aerin Mountains, in lush forests with good hunting. About twenty years ago, there was a war with a human clan. They poisoned our land and forced us to leave. At first, we stayed on the western side of the Aerins, in the unsullied parts, but there was not enough space. Our own clans started fighting each other. Leyus was young compared to the other clan leaders, so he led us across the mountains in search of better forests.”

“What you mean, ‘poisoned the land’?”

“That is a story better told by others, after you become more settled with the clan.”

Another question nagged at Kyra. “If all the Makvani are from across the mountains, how did I get here?”

Pashla chewed her fruit thoughtfully. “It’s a mystery. You must have come from the west somehow. None of the Makvani tribes came here before us, and we have not been here two years.”

“But all I remember is Forge. How could I have traveled so far if I was too young to remember?”

“The only humans who travel such long distances are the Far Rangers. Perhaps you could find them after you heal. Traders have long memories.”

“Do you know the traders?”

Pashla shook her head. “No. We do not deal with them. Though before we started roaming, we traded in humans.”

“Traded in humans?”

Pashla gave Kyra a sidelong glance. “Humans are funny creatures. They think nothing of raising and keeping horses or dogs, but they complain when others do the same to them.”

The plum juice suddenly tasted sour in Kyra’s mouth. “You were slavers,” she said.

“As were the humans who bought our goods. Does this bother you?”

Kyra gripped the leftover plum pit. The edge dug into her palm. “Slavery is a harsh fate.”