Nush stares at me, and I stare right back. If only we could send thoughts through our eyes.

Finally, the Rovenni grunts. “Kill this one if you want,” he says with a noncommittal shrug. “I won’t shed a tear.”

The soldier guffaws. “Your friend doesn’t seem overly fond of you,” he says. But he pushes me through the gate and returns to his horse, probably eager to go count his money. I stand next to the fence, painfully aware of all the traders’ eyes on me.

Nush clamps a large hand on my shoulder and pulls me toward the center of the enclosure. “Good to see you safely back, brother.” His arm is so heavy it’s a wonder I don’t sink into the ground. He steers me between tents until all Amparans are blocked from view, then whips me around to face him. “Who are you? I’ve seen you before.” He furrows his eyebrows again, and a flicker of recognition flashes in his eyes. He grabs the lapel of my tunic and yanks me closer. “You’re the umbertouched horse thief!”

I grab my tunic to keep the fabric from choking me. Do I look like a good target to push around? I used to cut a more intimidating presence. “I never stole any horses from you.” I pick my words carefully. Even though I never stole their horses, I did steal something else. To be fair, I was in some pretty desperate circumstances at the time.

Nush’s eyes flicker down to my wrist. “What is...” He grabs my arm and then runs his fingers over the brand. It tickles when he brushes the edge of the scar tissue. Comprehension dawns on the Rovenni’s face. “Why, you scoundrel,” he says. He holds my arm up for all around him to see. “This is the man who stole our branding iron,” he says.

I grit my teeth as murmurs sound all around. Everyone stares at me, and not in a friendly way. I cringe to think how far Nush’s voice might have traveled.

I step closer to him and lower my voice. “I can explain. And I can be useful to you. Just hear me out.” I don’t actually know how I’d help them, but I’ll say anything at this point.

Nush’s gaze doesn’t soften. “Our brands are legacies from the founders of our tribe. Our men and women train for years in horsemanship to make themselves worthy of the mark. It’s core to everything that makes us Rovenni, and you stole the iron as if it were no more than a horseshoe.”

I have a feeling that more lies will get me killed. “You’re right. I did steal your brand. I was a spy in Sehmar City and needed it to throw Arxa off the scent of who I really was.”