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When she had no other tasks to do around the inn, she spent her time exploring the nearby mountains, on the lookout for the plants Tahir had taught her how to recognize, always with her daggers at her waist.

She wanted to discover all she could about Ardani. She had much to learn if she was going to make it here. She did not want to be forced to depend on the kindness of others, as much as she cherished the generosity she’d received from Tahir and Basira thus far. She felt an urgent need to gain the skills to survive on her own. She had always lived beneath someone. Whether as a slave or as a child to adoptive parents, she’d always been a dependent. She craved a life where she could make her own decisions and be her own person.

She imagined what it would be like to live on her own, without anyone’s help or protection, in the wilds of Ardani with only a behelgi and a few packs full of supplies. It was all she would need. It was all Nero needed.

To her chagrin, she found her thoughts wandering to him often.

It was probably only her curiosity that made her think about him so much. She’d never seen a half-blooded Varai before. He was not quite of either culture, just like her.

She wished she’d had another chance to speak with him. She wanted to know where he had come from and why he was here. She wanted to know how he’d survived, how he’d found his place in the world.

But to be truthful, she also thought an awful lot about how attractive he was, even when he was scowling at her. And about how lovely his voice had sounded when he’d spoken softly to her, and about the warm shivers that had gone through her when he’d touched her gently. What would it be like to have him touch her bare skin? What would it be like if he allowed her to touch him back? She enjoyed thinking about these things more than she should have. But these thoughts about him were private, just for herself. They were thoughts that she’d never act upon or speak of to anyone else. There was no harm in enjoying a person’s beauty from afar, was there?

She often thought of Kashava still, and of Avan. By now, word about the missing raiding party would have reached Kuda Varai, and appropriate conclusions would be drawn. Zara still wished she could have gone back to explain what had happened in person.

She missed Avan terribly, but she knew Avan would have told her to stay where she was rather than try to find her way back to Kuda Varai. This was what she had always wanted for her—a chance for her to have a normal life.

Trade routes in and out of Kuda Varai were virtually nonexistent, but Zara was determined to find a way to send word and tell Avan she’d survived. To potentially lose a wife and a daughter at once was a dreadful blow. News of Zara’s survival would never make up for the loss of Kashava, but it might lessen the pain a little.

Zara wanted to accompany the Paladins when they left to go north, but it happened that Farhana fell ill that morning, and Basira asked her to stay and help run the inn while she cared for the girl.

Zara stood on the porch to watch the trail of armored Paladins march down the road. Naika shot her a threatening glance as she passed, to which Zara paid no mind. She had no intention of betraying the woman for the crimes of being a mage and using her Goddess-given abilities to help a child in need.

She understood Naika’s anger for what it really was, now. Naika was afraid.

It was the fear of someone with little to gain but much still to lose. It was the look of someone desperately fighting to keep her hold on the lowest rung of the ladder and kicking away others who might try to reach for her spot. Zara knew, because she had seen the other slaves do the same in Vondh Rav. She’d done it herself.

“Do you think Naika truly believes in the Paladins’ mission?” Zara asked Basira as they washed dishes that evening.

Basira stared at her dish, thinking. “Maybe. It’s hard to tell what she’s thinking, since she has such difficulty communicating.”

Zara paused, glancing up to make sure there was no one listening from the doorway. “She disobeys Paladin Theron’s wishes in secret. It seems there are some things she does not agree with him about.”

“I don’t think she has a choice. She’s a Witch-Paladin for life, whether she likes it or not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Some of the Witch-Paladins joined the Paladins voluntarily, but most are mages who are given into the Paladins’ custody because they’ve been convicted of a serious crime. I’ll let you guess which one Naika is.”

Zara raised her eyebrows. “Do you know what her crime was?”

“There’s a rumor that she killed a man in Valtos many years ago, but I can’t say for certain.”

“Then she has to do as Theron says?”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“So she is a slave.”

Basira looked up at her, sympathetic. Zara had told her a little about her life in Kuda Varai—not much, but more than she’d told anyone else.

“Witch-Paladin Naika can take care of herself, Zara,” she said gently. “You should worry about yourself before you start worrying for others.”

Chapter 13

The Paladins were gone for two tense nights. On the third day, they reappeared, and they were not alone. They were dragging a pair of Varai with them.

Zara was walking down the path that ran through the village when it happened. The Paladins appeared on the road at the end of the settlement, a mass of gleaming silver on the dark landscape. From the moment she saw them, she could tell something had happened. Theron was looking especially proud of himself that day.