Between the indignant cawing and fluttering of wings, I don’t even notice the nomad woman until she’s five steps away. When I finally see her, my shouts die on my lips. She’s the fiercest-looking woman I’ve ever seen—older and shorter than me, but she has the look of a boulder with her muscular arms and thick chest. If the nomad man I faced earlier was a lightning bolt, I have no doubt that this woman is the thundercloud behind him.

The woman stops abruptly, puzzled. “A cottage out here?” she asks in Amparan. She stands with a forward tilt, as if ready to charge.

I raise my blowgun. The nomad woman’s eyes widen and she puts up her hands appeasingly. Then the leaves part again, and our village leader steps out. Tal? The nomad woman only gives him a cursory glance.

Tal’s mouth drops open. “Zivah,” he says. He turns to the nomad. “Why are we—”

The nomad woman points to the shed. “My man’s in there.”

Tal stares at the shed. “You are sure?”

“That’s what the crows say.”

I look between them, trying to make sense of what’s happening. The two of them speak like they know each other, and there seems to be confusion but no ill will between them. If that’s true, then what does that say about the man in the shed?

“Zivah,” says Tal. “Is this true? Warlord Gatha is a friend of our village. You may speak freely.”

When did Tal start dealing with Shidadi warlords? The two of them are quite the mismatched pair. Tal’s a head taller than she and about half as wide, though they address each other as equals.

“I found a nomad warrior in my shed,” I say. “He tried to kill me.”

Tal straightens in alarm, and Gatha mutters something under her breath. She’s not pleased, but her ire doesn’t seem directed at me.

“Are you hurt?” Tal asks.

“No. I was able to subdue him. That’s why he’s locked in the shed.”

Gatha stops muttering and looks me up and down. “You teach your girls to fight?” she asks Tal.

Tal gives a weak shake of his head. “No,” he says. “Zivah is a healer. She—”

“I have a purple-headed serpent that responds to my commands.”

Gatha gives a low whistle. It’s hard to tell, but Tal seems to be suppressing a smile.

“Well, you’ve sparked my curiosity, young healer,” says Gatha, “and I apologize for my warrior. Is he hurt?”

“He twisted an ankle, but he should be otherwise unharmed. That is, unless he’s found some way to provoke one of my creatures.”

This time, Tal’s shoulders are definitely shaking.

Gatha takes one step closer. “May I speak with him?”

I glance at Tal, who nods. I still don’t understand what he’s doing, but he’s never given me reason to doubt him.