“You should get up, you know,” were the first words Nua heard as every knock jolted her back to the waking world. “She might think you took ill after your escapade and force the door.”

The girl wanted to say something witty, but all she managed was a confused moan. Meanwhile, Ashraqat took the intelligible sound as an invitation and simply went in. After all, Nua didn’t use the latch. It didn’t occur to her that there might be one. Having a private door was not exactly her everyday experience.

The merchant woman was dressed in a set of fresh clothes, with Old Azurian baggy pants and an embroidered, wide belt, studded with green and red colored ceramic beads, that masked a deficiency in her waistline. From the look of it, she brushed her dark, grey peppered hair and tied them in a new bun. There was less worry on her face, and her movements weren’t as tense as before. Still, she exuded some sort of nervous energy.

“Were you sleeping the whole time?” she smiled. “Seems like you needed it. Go, refresh yourself. I won’t let you see Hessa in those dirty rags.”

“I don’t have other clothes,” mumbled Nua.

“I figured.” Ashraqat threw a soft cotton bundle on the chest. “Come to our quarters whenever you’re ready. Don’t take too long. She might go back asleep.”

She left.

“There’s still time to flee,” goaded Anki.

“There’s always time to flee,” she replied.

“You know, I remember a similar situation,” he noted, “When you were worried about flogging and potential execution. I do not recognize you, Nua.”

“I get what you’re trying to do, but it’s not working. It’s nowhere a similar situation.”

“There’s no way Hessa didn’t realize that you saved her life using some kind of sorcery.”

Nua’s arms slouched. She closed her eyes, remembering her own reaction to the blow she dealt to the assassin. The first person she had killed on purpose. But there were other deaths. Flavius’ sorry end was well deserved, but there was also his guide, slaughtered by a giant spider. Then, there was the risk she brought to Hala. Her mistakes tended to follow her footsteps, and she was about to undertake even more risks. Ones that were explorer-level stupid.

“Anki, I… I almost killed her in the first place. The assassin, the whole thing – it was my fault. All I did after that was to try and fix the damage. If I didn’t succeed, if the medic would have refused, if the goons would have scared him into giving her out, if Ashra and her healer had not arrived… I am no hero. Just a liar.”

She jumped off the bed and regretted it a moment later when a sudden bout of dizziness almost knocked her off her feet.

“Oh, River God,” she rested her hand on the bedframe. “A very hungry liar. So, you know. I want to stay. I might as well leave. I am a danger to the caravan, and they don’t deserve it. But first I’d like to say sorry.”

Anki didn’t say anything for a while. Then, he came back when she was done with washing and changing. The new clothes were simple, just a shirt and pants, but they felt heavenly to the touch. She doubted them to be enough in the desert, or anywhere outside the inn. They did not have that sturdy quality of starched linen. It was like being dressed in a cloud, and she checked twice if her breasts are showing through, however meager they were. Fortunately, the shirt filled the basic function of a garment and covered her as it should.

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“About your channels…”

“Are they good?”

“Well, you took some strain, but nothing deleterious in the long run. Most of it is already gone. They’re, how to say that…” Anki glanced at her, weighing words. “Quite well-branched for a beginner. This makes me think of an idea for an exercise that you would make you benefit without bringing your ether to the attention of unwanted eyes.”

Nua sighed.

“Yeah?” she forced herself to focus. She didn’t want to listen to the king prattling about sorcery right now, but she also knew that she needs the training.

“It is possible to draw in minuscule amounts of ether and infuse your body all the time. You need to be able to pull a wisp only, a fraction of a morsel, less than it takes us to talk. There’s no immediate benefit to it, but it’s also undetectable, and it does improve your capacity. It also speeds up the acquisition of new Techniques. Anything you are actively trying to learn while using ether can be incorporated into a Matrix, after all.”

Nua gaped at Anki.

“You mean me learning to fight? Or track? Or use a bow?”

“Yes. Those are harder than jumping, though.”

She looked at him with suspicion.

“And now you’re telling me? Why isn’t everyone doing it?”

“Ah, because not everyone is my student and has this fine level of control,” Anki said with a fair amount of pride. “You’ll be able to pick it up in a couple of evenings.”

She thought about it long and hard. It would take her further and faster than expected.

“What about reading and writing?”

“Alas, you are nowhere near an appropriate level for mental Techniques and Concepts. I told you at the very beginning. You need a certain level of mastery in a skill to start.”

Nua was taken aback. Anki’s answer meant that it could be done with time. She couldn’t imagine what these Techniques were good for – what happened if you were supernaturally adept at reading and writing? Did it make you read super fast, remember every written word perfectly, or learn the ancient script that had seven hundred characters? Could you make a letter write itself with a spell? What would it take to understand these as well as she understood moving her own body?

Deep within her mind, besides her resolve and sense of guilt, a new type of hunger was building that took root in her lifelong curiosity, one that she displayed for years before she met Anki and embarked on unknown waters. Once bound to a purpose, it was so much more powerful.

Without further delay, she approached the caravan leader’s chambers and knocked on the door.

“Come in!”

Nua took a sharp breath, then hurried inside.

The huntress was resting on the bed, half sitting and supported by the pillows. She was still pale, and there was a dark circle under her healthy eye, but her gaze was clear and attentive. Ashraqat, who acknowledged Nua with a nod, sat beside her.

The girl opened her mouth, but words failed her; too many urgent thoughts vied for her attention. She wanted to apologize, and at the same time, express her relief and elation. Then, guilt grasped her again. Hessa gave her a weak smile.

“Raya’s medicines work wonders,” she said. Her voice was quiet but steady. “I won’t be running a race any time soon, but I might be on my feet in a couple of days.”

“I… I’m glad.”

“I owe you my life.” Hessa closed her eye for a moment. “Thank you.”

“I just wanted to…” Nua trailed off. She sighed. “This thing only happened because…”

“Please continue,” interjected Ashraqat. “I would very much like to understand why did that Antiquarian agent want to get rid of you. We discussed the other possibility,” she glanced at Hessa, “And it seems that you’re the one who’s knee-deep in that dung.”

“Do not scare her away,” the huntress tried speaking louder, then she winced. After a few breaths, she continued. “She doesn’t know what you’re talking about. Though I can guess where some of her ideas come from.” She paused. “Tell me, Nua. When did you first get the Sight and who taught you?”