She knew there were holes in the old woman’s knowledge. A people couldn’t pass two thousand year-old training skills down without losing a great deal. As Oma rose, perhaps Taigan would come into the knowledge on her own, the way she had learned her body denied death, the way she learned it also denied a fixed physical sex more than most. Some days, she wished the change would halt halfway through and give her some aspect of both sexes in both mind and body so she could feel more confident in calling herself ataisa. Most days, though, she was just Taigan – all sexes and none. It amused her to play with the language of self.

Her beard had thinned many months before, and what remained was soft and downy but did not recede any further. Her breasts were almost noticeable now, so she bound them. It was a relief they never got bigger. She could still pass for male. People made assumptions in Saiduan when they saw a lone figure on the road dressed as she was. Assumptions made her life easier.

Some days, she envied the omajistas who could open gates. At least they knew what they were. Or would know, once she found them and told them. But the gifts Oma bestowed upon her often felt like curses. What use was there for a person whose body and mind shifted with the seasons?

Taigan spent her second night within the welcoming arms of a bonsa hybrid, a gnarly, twisted thing that grew like a bear’s claw from the side of a rocky mount. She woke sometime during the night to voices and watched a small family camp in the ravine below. They lit a fire. She saw their faces in the warm glow. Two mothers, perhaps an aunt, a father or two or maybe an uncle, and four young children. Taigan often found it difficult to sort out Dhai family relations. Things became complicated very quickly.

They were exiles, or perhaps Woodland Dhai come to carve out an existence in the less toxic mountains. Despite having less virulent plant life, living this close to Dorinah had its own dangers for Dhai. Taigan imagined this family would fetch a fine price in the slave markets there. In Saiduan, the two women alone would net a very fine purse. Taigan began putting prices on them and imagined the sort of things she would buy. But after a time, that no longer amused her, and she found herself caught up in their light banter and storytelling. One of the mothers brought out a stringed instrument from a battered case. She sang in a low, clear voice. The others joined her.