They rode on, Davram taking the lead, followed by Onder, then Alize, then Kell at the rear. Alize had the distinct impression of being herded. After their last conversation, Kell had mostly left her alone, but at night he and Davram would sit up late by the fire regaling Onder with stories that fill the wind with chortling. It was only in the mornings, as they packed their cots and discussed the day’s journey that Alize would notice their sideways glances in her direction, however much they feigned their ease.

Alize did not bother to feign ease, but neither did she invite them into her private ruminations. She felt loneliest when they crossed through oases or small areas of forests lining the bottoms of hills. The silence surrounded Alize, but it was a silence unknown, without the familiar swaddling of the trees’ voices. The forests has always made Alize feel part of her own chattering community, making her better at listening than participating. Buried in her unaccustomed silence, Alize heard when Davram and Onder spoke of practical matters like food and respite for the horses, but they did not invite her input, so she refrained from offering it. And though Kell did not speak to her further, his soft questions had lodged in Alize’s brain like parasites. She did not want to think about the Hrumi who left. She did not care for his insinuations, nor the way he pretended that they were harmless. Such beliefs were exactly the threats she had been raised to thwart.

She would have preferred the silence.

Just a little more time to restore my magic.

Finally they reach a river and ahead a mud wall city rose up on its banks. “This is Julfa,” Davram muttered as a guard swung the iron gate shut behind them. He directed his horse against the throngs of people on the main street. They jostled against each other and slouched in their profiles, rushing through their errands. Their gazes pried Alize’s wherever she looked.

Around her, the glass from the windows reflected the red of the sunset that she could not see.

“Nasty place, really.” Davram continued. “In Mizre, Prince Basar at least says he recognizes prince Jorin – the prince here is openly hostile to any Parousia servants.”

“Why?” Alize asked while her eyes traced over the dung-filled streets.

“Did you think,” Kell spoke, “that only the Hrumi have misgivings of the prince’s purview?”

Alize shrugged without looking at Kell. She had never known of any defiance against the princes beyond the Hrumi’s, but she did not need to tell him that.

“Have you been here before?” Alize asked Davram.

“Oh yes. Don’t look anyone in the eyes here. From you, as a young woman, it’s an invitation.”

Alize gave a sharp smile. “Tell me again about how civilized the provinces are?”

Davram exhaled without responding.

“For tonight, you’re Onder’s daughter,” he informed Alize as they arrived at the archway of a crumbling caravanserai.

Alize laughed out loud.

“Well, it’s either that or his paramour,” Davram gestured to Kell, who made a face, “so consider yourself lucky.”

“How come she couldn’t be your paramour?” Kell inquired.

“I’d play the role poorly.”

“That’s true, I’ve seen you try.”

“Oh har har.”

While they spoke with the owner and tied up their horses, Alize listened to the Sargons heckle each other yet again. She found herself chewing on something wistful. I relate to the other Hrumi. Most of the time. But though she had spent her summers in the children’s camp, she could not remember a single winter there. She had always gone west to the salt caves with Hesna. While the other Hrumi children made fast friendships, Hesna had drilled Alize on balance, defense, and runes. The first time Hesna shared water with Alize had been the first time anyone had shared water with her.

Davram said he had instructed Kell too, but their relationship seemed less stratified, less formal. To Alize, it seemed strange, but not unappealing.

But, she reminded herself as Davram ushered her down the dark hallway of the caravanserai, rigid relationships were necessary to keep Hrumi clans strong. And anyway, the Hrumi were close with each other. Hrumi bonds are tighter than family because they are our choices, not our fate. After the children were rescued, the Hrumi became their new family, where they could heal, could grow up in safety.

And with this mercy came the understanding of certain protocol, that structure must be observed, respected, maintained. Unlike a blood family, infractions were readily evident. That helped ensure the clan’s cohesion. The Hrumi needed structure to protect them because they could never forget that they lives were always under threat.

And not everyone survived.

After Hesna’s death, Alize had been careful to demonstrate that Hesna had properly prepared her for such an eventuality. She did not indulge in self-pity: she simply left her memories behind her. Now she let the loneliness hold her hand. It caressed her lightly, for the moment. It could tighten its grip though, if Alize were brave enough to truly acknowledge it.

Davram clanked the key in the doorway several times before it opened to reveal a small room lined with cushioned benches, the worn fabric a red and yellow diamond pattern.

Lost in thought, Alize sat down by the sole window. The light of the fading day seemed timid in the tight space. She tried to picture Hesna’s face. Not even four years had passed, but Alize’s memory rendered her features hazy.

“Tell your daughter that’s my bed.” Kell joked to Onder, distracting Alize. The candles Darvam hastened to light bore only modest flames, illuminating half the room while condemning the corners to restless shadows. Tonight they stayed on the ground floor, and the stones underfoot were smooth and cold. The low ceilings lent the room a cramped quality and its walls were crumbling, whole chunks were missing in some places. Kell batted at one area and then groused as more plaster fell away.

Alize sighed and gathered her sac in her arms. Onder pointed her to the servant’s closet where she sprawled on the narrow sofa and kicked the door shut. Lit only by moonlight, the ceiling stucco cast disjointed shadows above her.

Alize tried to recall Hesna’s voice. Never surrender before you’ve lost.

Alize winced. Those words emphasized how hard Hesna must have fought before her own defeat. The grief curled in Alize’s belly, and as the ultimate affront, instead of Hesna’s face, Alize invoked Celillie’s on that day in the isolation tent.

Such a pity and a waste. But no one can conquer the wind, my sister.

Stunned beyond words, Alize said nothing in reply. She remembered averting her eyes from the blood on Celillie’s chiton.

Hesna had to pay the price for her error. But it is over now.

Celillie’s face had been mournful, but she wore her false sympathy like butterflies thronging a corpse: their pretty fluttering wings can not wholly obscure the filth underneath. Even then Alize sensed Celillie’s scrutiny. As if she distrusted that Alize could ever atone for having trained under Hesna. Alize should have known that Celilie would never permit her to assume salt duty, even after all her training. Yet, after such an unambiguous resolution to their conflict, Alize could not imagine why Celillie continued to be wary of her.

Alize drew her knees to her stomach. She did not have to worry about Celillie anymore. That problem too, had been resolved. But why, why, why? Alize could not help but wonder. And who was she meant to be now? The despair in her belly threatened to engulf her.

Almost unexpectedly, Alize rose and opened the door to the main room. The light from the candles flickered within and Kell, standing shirtless, jerked in surprise. Alize blinked to see archipelago of furrowed scars tracing from his navel to the pant hem covering his left thigh. As Alize considered them, she felt Davram’s hands on her shoulders.

He turned her towards him. “Ahem. I know we’re in tight quarters but we’re doing our best to give you some privacy. Perhaps you might warn us you before barging in?”

“Oh.” Realization dawned on Alize. “Excuse me.” She glanced at Kell, who had turned his back to her while he tugged on his tunic. “I’m not accustomed to traveling with men.”

“We know,” Kell murmured obviously over his shoulder.

“We’re all doing a bit of adjusting,” Davram agreed.

“Excuse me.” Alize repeated.

“It’s fine, no harm done,” Kell grinned but Alize noticed a hint of red around his cheeks. She prayed it was not reflected in her own face.

Davram relaxed his posture. “Kell, have you heard this one? A Habrician youth walks into a tavern and says, ‘Bar man, give me a word to use in a sentence. Bar man says, ‘sober.’”

Kell shifted to regard Davram. Alize wondered whether he meant to encourage or discourage Davram.

“The youth says, ‘Easy. When I come home sloshed tonight my mother will sob-her eyes out.’”

“Ugh, terrible!” Kell chuckled.

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Alize hunched her shoulders, uncertain how to react and tired of the feeling.

“Davram,” Onder said, emerging from the opposite room, “do you know any decent places for dinner in this forsaken town?”

Kell volunteered several suggestions that Davram treated dubiously and soon they were arguing over whether dumplings belonged in soup. Alize let her attention drift as she gazed out the open window. In the distance, the sand blew up from the steppes in rolling clouds. The dust drifted on the air even in the city.

Then Alize shook her head. There was a ringing starting in her ears, and she prayed she imagined it. But persisted and started to grow.

Alize turned to the men in alarm. “Earthquake,” she gasped.

“What?” Onder responded sharply.

“An earthquake is about to-”

The room lurched in confirmation. Alize clamped her throbbing head in her hands.

Davram and Onder were already moving. Kell grasped Alize’s arm, pulling her towards her small chamber. He planted his feet in the threshold as a large tremor rocked the whole building.

Cries from the street rushed through the open window and Kell leaned into Alize’s ear. “Doorways are the safest place to stand.”

The caravanserai shook again and Alize stumbled forward but Kell caught her around the waist with one arm, bracing her against him. His torso felt utterly sturdy even as the room rocked. Alize noticed too the warmth of his body and the fact that her pulse quickened. Kell was not threatening her, so she could not rationalize why she suddenly felt inexplicably tense. The smell of cedarwood had never troubled her before.

Slowly the tremors around them subsided and Kell released Alize. She pulled away from him haltingly, as if the space between them had been crushed. It needed to regrow.

Onder crossed the room, his eyes locked on Alize. “How did you know, Alize, that an earthquake was coming?” he demanded.

“I- I don’t know. I mean, I don’t know how I know. I can feel them coming.” Alize frowned. In truth, she could hardly begrudge the Mage his questions, not now. She heaved her breath and chose honesty.

“Ever since they started in the spring,” her voice regained its steadiness, “I’ve felt a precursor, a very short, intense headache. And it’s not just me,” Alize added, catching Onder’s incredulous expression “my clan leader too, she can feel them.” Alize swallowed and could not help reiterating, “It’s not just me.”

Onder sighed. “I wish I had some answers for you. But what else aren’t you telling me?”

Alize bit her lip. It’s not just me, she wanted to shout, but clearly that would not discourage Onder’s interest. She turned to the window once more, her eyes seeking the horizon, but night had flooded landscape. All to further emphasize how very lost Alize was. She wanted to blame it on the strange dress she wore, but the bitter ache in her stomach felt intimately familiar. She had no identity to depend upon, no answers to hope for.

Alize observed Onder. His frown had faded into curiosity again. Next to him to Davram regarded her warily. Alize wondered again about his purpose in traveling with the Mage, but she shook the questions from her mind. She had one objective, and it did not involve probing the motivations of Sargons.

“I’m going to take a walk,” she muttered.

Davram opened and closed his mouth while glancing at Kell.

“Don’t get lost.” Onder said simply.

Alize tried to laugh before she stepped towards the door, but barely managed an exhaled breath.

In the stable, the air reeked of animal refuse and mildew. Bits of dried forage clung to Alize’s skirt hem like plaintive children as she shuffled amongst stalls. She ducked under the arches supporting the ceiling. Even the shadows decorating the walls crowded her. Everything in the city felt confining, brimming with the griminess of humanity. It squeezed Alize’s chest, forcing her to take shallow breaths like a pathetic frightened animal.

Josoun nickered as Alize approached his stall and she berated herself for not bringing him food. Of course I wouldn’t know where to find an apple anyway. The Hrumi rarely tied up their horses at all and the city confines were as new to Josoun as they were to Alize. It took her some puzzling to release his stable door latch. When she entered the stall, she wrapped her arms around her horse’s neck. In the stables even his smell seemed different, hinting of moldy forage instead of rushing winds or forest glades. On instinct Alize reached for his saddle only to remember the gates thundering shut. There could be no departure until daylight.

Instead, Alize returned to Josoun, murmuring, “I don’t want to be here either.” With her cheek pressed into his mane she felt a telltale stinging in her eyes, but she carried enough resolve yet to stop the tears. Still, sadness tempted Alize to rest in the stall, maybe stay with Josoun for the night. But the hay would quickly foul her dress and ruin her disguise.

Alize sighed and willed herself to fortify. Her thoughts turned to what Hesna would say in this situation. Face every task with equal courage.

Only a few days earlier, Alize had felt prepared for anything, but since then she had been cast adrift from everything she had ever known. Without a center there was nothing to drive her and nowhere to go.

Josoun nickered again, nuzzling her with his coarse hair.

“Hey.” A low voice rang in the stables.

Alize turned to see Kell standing the entry way. In her mind, Celillie’s voice admonished her: a proper Hrumi would have noticed a Sargon’s approach. The stinging returned to Alize’s eyes.

“I found this outside.” Kell opened his hand to reveal a brown apple.

Alize watched him arrive next to the stall door. When he offered her the apple over the divider, she accepted it. She turned it slowly in her hand, frowning.

“Thanks.”

“Can I join you?”

Alize shrugged. She was too exhausted to refuse him.

Kell kept his eyes lowered while he opened the door, appearing very absorbed in his task. Then he too reached up to run his palm over Josoun’s back. The horse did not seem spooked by the Sargon. Alize wondered if that disappointed her.

“Hrumi horses are legendary,” Kell murmured. “None of our breeds have such high necks, or this metallic coat. We had to bribe the hostler for his silence.” Kell coaxed Josoun to lift up a leg, and examined his small, hard hoof, “He rarely shods?”

“Rarely,” Alize confirmed. The Hrumi took pride in their horses, courtesy of the sisters who bred and trained them. From far away, a group of galloping Hrumi could appear to be gliding over the landscape.

Kell continued to study Josoun. “And strong and healthy. You must take good care of him.”

“It is my honor to.” Alize presented the apple to Josoun, who munched it eagerly.

“After all the stories, I half-believed your horses were myths.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Kell rolled his shoulders. “When I was training, we did these drills, where all night long we lit fires. One after another, spaced unevenly on the rims of hillsides. For the enemy in the distance, he sees the lights and believes that there are more warriors than stars. And he despairs. We wage our battles,” Kell touched his temple, “as much within as without.”

Alize swallowed. She had seen the firelight lining the horizon, seen it in Balanjar after she escaped the Sargons. Those fires had chased her, had invoked images of hundreds of Sargons filling the forest behind her.

The trees had been calmer in their caution, and Alize had not understood it, had not guessed that those fires might have been a cruel ruse. But, why would Kell reveal Sargon strategy? To lure me into a false security next time I see the fires. Yet, that did not seem to serve him, not now, when he stood so close to her, without his armor or his weapons. He knew Alize still wore her dagger, and yet he had left himself vulnerable, by his own choice. It must serve him somehow. Some way I don’t understand.

A patter of rain started on the roof, slow at first, one drop, then another, until the soft sounds rushed together. The cacophony cascaded all around them, easing the silence like a worn blanket.

Alize observed the Sargon before her, wondering if he relished the warmth of summer sunlight or if he mused at the wind patterns that clustered the clouds. Her world was the silence of the steppes, streams under splayed branches, and spindly seeds shuddering in the breeze. His world was iron, the plodding of boots and the clanking of chains. Framed always by suffering of those whom the princes deemed expendable.

But Kell’s callous-ridden hands traced over Josoun’s mane with a gentleness Alize never would have imagined in a Sargon. And she wondered if he perhaps did know something of the forest, of sheltering branches or the brilliance of the unstable constellations over the canopy. Perhaps he too had faced trails shrouded in night, and wished for the dawn to illuminate them.

Her curiosity intensified. “Kell,” Alize ventured. When he lifted his gaze to hers, her voice nearly caught in her throat. “Why are you here? What do you know?”

The rotten stall divider buckled slightly as Kell leaned against it. “Well, I don’t know much about Onder’s ideas,” he sighed. He reached into his pocket and seemed pleasantly surprised to find some pistachios. “There’s a lot of talk about the Temple, and Onder thinks the Magi aren’t alert to the right signals. He got fixated on this idea, that you can somehow…resolve it.”

“Not me.” Alize pursed her lips.

Kell crunched a pistachio and made a face before spitting it to the ground. “Bleh. Old,” he announced, releasing the remaining pistachios in his hand. “And yes, you. Give Onder some time. He only found you a few days ago.”

Alize slumped against the wall next to Kell, “He met me a few days ago. To be found, you must first be lost.” And you will never know how lost I am.

“Fair enough. But I should say: if there is anything going on, Onder is going to figure it out first. And Davram, well, he’s facing his own demons, but he’s one of the best people I know.”

“Davram orders me around like he expects me to obey him.”

“Ha,” Kell eased his feet forward, and looked up at the ceiling. “That’s a fault of his. But he means well. Between him and Onder, you’ve got more resources than you realize.”

Alize wondered if Davram knew that Kell thought that was a fault of his. She had heard Kell asserting grievances to Davram frequently enough. The older Sargon seemed cheerfully accustomed to it.

“This is all too strange! And Onder - why would a Mage keep Sargon companions?”

Kell again reached out to Josoun’s mane. Josoun bent forward to give him better access and Alize squashed her reaction before it had a chance to truly form.

“Probably the same reason to keep a Hrumi companion.” Kell answered. “Onder is a little unconventional. He sees a bigger picture than most of the other Magi, who look only to the reaches of magic, to speculate where it can be pushed. He studies how it fits into the world. For that he has actually been a little ostracized from the Magi community, though no one dares to challenge his membership.”

“I had no idea.” Onder’s quiet demeanor did not signal any defiant tendencies. She wondered at her misjudgment.

“He doesn’t like to mention it and makes light of it whenever someone else does. I can’t imagine it’s easy for him. But he prefers the resentment of the community to surrendering his ideals.”

What, Alize wondered, could possibly outweigh the resentment of his community? “What about the Magi laws?”

“Onder says laws are only as good as the purpose they serve. And, sadly, there are some who claim he is breaking them. He has been accused of aiding the Priestess and the forces of the Temple, but I think it is only a convenient symbiotic relationship, since the Priestess is helping Onder with his own quest.”

“You mean the prophecy.”

Kell nodded, stealing a glance at Alize. “Onder has been researching the Ginmae prophecy for over a decade, since just after the Silver City fell to the Kogaloks. Finally something is happening. And now he’s convinced it centers around you. He wants to help you.” Kell cleared his throat, “and honestly it seems like you could use the help.”

Alize narrowed her eyes. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“And,” Kell stammered, “just, ahhh, I’m here for you too. Maybe it’s the Sargon in me, but I would like to be of service to you.” He glanced at Alize and she saw that the redness had returned to his cheeks.

Alize blinked. This was all too disorienting. How could a Sargon help a Hrumi? Did he imagine fighting off her attackers and whisking her to safety on his horse? She had her own weapons, her own horse. Her own strategies. She was not helpless. She needed no one.

But another thought bubbled up from the recesses of her mind, one she spent energy every day ignoring. You are all alone now. And that sinking despair was a battle she did not know how to fight. Part of Alize relished the easy laughs that Kell and Davram shared. That was what she wanted, if she was being truly honest with herself.

But surely Kell was not offering that. He offered strength. Only to demonstrate that he believes my strength difficient. But that thought rang false. Alize had sensed nothing competitive in her interactions with Kell. Maybe he did mean something as simple as kindness.

It doesn’t matter what he means A Hrumi cannot accept Sargon help. But Alize’s message to Kell emphasized his duty, not hers. “Sargons aren’t meant to help Hrumi,” she choked. “I have been taking care of myself for years.”

Kell bowed his head in acknowledgement before pushing himself from the wall. “Of course. I’ll be off then. I hope you don’t mind me disturbing you.”

“Oh, no,” Alize echoed his movement. “I’ll come with you.” If we don’t get attacked tonight, tomorrow will determine whether I can be helped at all.