She went upstairs to the dusty trunk she’d found in what looked like a pillaged armory. She began to pull off her armor. She wondered if it was something about the Dhai people that just made them mealy-mouthed little good-for-nothings. Why did she have to pull them all around by the nose?

She shook out a long red tunic and pulled it on. The skirt was bulky and a little short, but it would do. She found a leather belt embossed with the Dhai characters for all four satellites and pulled it on. There was another outfit in there, far too big for the girl, but if she ripped up the tunic and just put a belt on her, they might be able to pass for a while. She found no sword in the trunk or anywhere else in the ransacked room. All she could wrestle up was a broken javelin and what looked like some kind of busted crossbow. But she did find a long coat, perfect for hiding the sword strapped to her back. She drew her belt across her chest and rehung her sheath. As she finished up, she heard footsteps on the stairs and tensed until she saw it was just the dajian girl.

“I have a tunic here for you,” Zezili said. She threw it to the girl’s feet.

The girl stared at her.

“What?” Zezili said.

“You have one advantage, at least,” Lilia said.

“What’s that?”

“I think you might look more Dhai than I do.”

After the suns went down, Lilia marched toward the camp with Zezili. They followed a beaten path down to the encampment. Lilia had slept several hours back in the tower, the dead sleep of the sick or exhausted, and woke feeling wrung out. She vomited out of a high window. They had no water, and her mouth was dry and sticky.

“Could you stop if we see water?” Lilia asked.

“No time for that.”

She remembered Larn telling her that the priests she met within the camp often paid her in clear water. “Are your priests over here?” she asked. “The ones who pay in water? We could ask them.”

Zezili turned around. “My… what?”

“Priests?” Lilia said, wondering if she had gotten the word wrong. “Priestesses?”

Zezili laughed. “Oh, you mean Seekers. Dajians are always calling them priests.”

“What are Seekers?”

Zezili began walking again. “Dorinah’s gifted.”

“But,” Lilia said, “why would they be in a camp?”

“A camp?” Zezili stopped again. “Tulana’s in a dajian camp?”

“Who? I don’t know, but–”

“Should have figured,” Zezili said. “It’s the one place we wouldn’t look.”

“Why were you looking?”

Zezili shook her head. “Empress is killing our own gifted. For the Tai Mora. The people on this side. They ran off some time ago. Should have figured they’d hide in a camp.”

“That’s mad.”

“It is,” Zezili said. “Shit. Good thing I didn’t slaughter you after all.”