A pair of riders surged towards Adehl across the wild grasses of the Humming Downs. She’d spotted the horses a few minutes ago, tiny specks at first, growing larger. They flowed up and over a swell, angling down a slope where loophorns feasted on the bounty of recent summer rains. The animals scattered like disrupted ants.

Adehl slowed Cloud and the extra horses to a walk. The downs rolled in all directions — rocky outcrops, clumps of woodland and sprawling grassland, vibrant with new growth. Amid the spears of green, brilliant white daisies, yellow sunfaces and purple flax-lily blooms swayed. Bees hummed, and a flock of black-and-white birds fossicked for insects — until the oncoming riders thundered into their midst, sending the birds into the air.

The horses’ gaits slowed as the pair approached Adehl. At last, they pulled up before her, a chestnut and a blood bay. The riders were men she didn’t recognise, but they were doubtless from the Vuusah company camped at Fortune Spring. Like her, they wore undyed summer mahgans over leather leggings and long boots. They sized her up, one large and expressionless, the other keen-eyed and graceful, leaning forward in his saddle as he scrutinised her. Adehl held the slighter man’s gaze. The fine braids keeping his dark, waist-length hair in check were threaded with gold, copper and blue velinkah beads that matched the vibrant samah bound around his middle.

“Soul bright and balanced,” Adehl said. Her voice came out husky after nine days of riding. She’d passed only two Vuusah camps since leaving her own, the most recent at Wandering Well three days ago. She gestured at the string of four geldings she was leading. “You’re from Fortune Spring? I’ve brought you some horses.”

The larger of the men was already examining the animals and nudged his chestnut mount closer. He wore his braids at a more conventional length, their ends brushing his shoulderblades. The patterns woven into his samah proclaimed him a noumenor, a zehli able to manipulate a person’s llirah. She suppressed the urge to tell him these were the pick of the horses her company had bred in recent seasons.

The man with the stupidly long braids smiled. “Soul bright and welcome,” he said. “It is good to finally meet you.”

Not sure of his meaning, Adehl felt her cheeks heat under the intensity of his regard. She studied the patterns on his samah, unable to make them out. “Thank you. I look forward to reaching your camp.”

The light in his eyes faded, and Adehl wondered what she’d said. His clean-shaven face was expressive, exuding curiosity, intelligence and something else she couldn’t define. He swung his pale-amber gaze to his companion, then back to her. “I’ve been marking your progress. You camped at Upper Well last night.” It wasn’t a question.

“You’re a farsenser?”

He smirked and tilted his head, beads clinking together. “The old man wanted us to come out and meet you.”

The large noumenor shot him a look. “We’re here to collect the horses,” he said. “Our doyen thought it would save you time.”

“I appreciate it.” While Adehl could have found Fortune Spring without assistance, she welcomed anything to speed up the journey to a hot meal and some company. “Do we have long to ride?”

“You misunderstand.” Some of his severity slid into awkwardness. “Gentah doesn’t want —”

“That can wait. We’ve been rude.” The farsenser’s gaze fixed on Adehl’s. “I’m Roh. That’s Frahto. Will you tell us your name?”

Adehl blinked at the unexpected information, delivered so casually. She knew the name Roh. Everyone did. “You’re Little Atali?” It explained the complicated markings on his samah. She’d known the zehli destined to be Atalah rode with Gentah’s company, but this man was not much older than her. His smile broadened, and she regretted using the nickname. He was doubtless arrogant enough already.

The noumenor, Frahto, grunted with something like resignation. “The one and only.”

Roh chuckled, stood in his stirrups and swatted Frahto on the back of the head. She watched their byplay for a few moments. This was the zehli rumoured to have the greatest affinity for ellir in several generations? She raised her hand and spoke her own name. The beads and charms on her srih clinked as the leather wrapping slid down her arm.

It was Frahto who first nudged his massive chestnut alongside Cloud, his upright palm offered to Adehl’s in the traditional greeting between zehla. “Soul bright,” he muttered as their palms touched for a few heartbeats, long enough for their inner rhythms, their llirah, to thread briefly together. She sensed his discomfort and wondered at it, but neither she nor Frahto revealed much of themselves.

With an unreadable glance at his companion, Roh came forward on the blood bay. The surrounding air seemed charged, and Adehl was burningly aware of Frahto watching on as Roh joined his palm to hers.

She gasped, couldn’t help it, as his llirah slammed through hers. Unfettered, Roh’s energy surged and soared. How could a mortal body contain a rhythm of such amplitude? It rattled her bones until she thought she’d shake apart. Then her llirah blended with his in a natural resonance as cool and smooth as silk. She stopped shaking, shivered at the shocking intimacy. Uneasy, she tried to pull away, break this connection that was too much; but, with a sound deep in his throat, Roh threaded his fingers through hers in a firm clasp.

Roh was laid bare before her, his soul a shimmer of ellir. Adehl sensed his shock mirrored her own. Their rhythms had combined so instinctively she hadn’t been able to resist. It felt inevitable, as though her llirah’s natural state was to be melded with his.

Sanity returned with a jolt, and she wrenched her hand from his. The motion jerked Roh half out of his saddle and, by the time he’d righted himself, Adehl had moved Cloud to a safe distance. They stared at each other. Adehl scrambled to regain control of both her llirah and facial expression. If she could see into Roh’s soul, then he could see into hers. Sun’s fury. Had he seen? Her heart hammered.

“Roh, what in the burning bright sun did you do?” Frahto’s voice held an edge.

Roh twitched, fingers curling as if unsure what to do with his hand. “Nothing. Don’t drop your rein. Everything’s fine.” His gaze bored into her, alight with recognition and astonishment.

With effort, she dragged her attention away, looked anywhere but at him. High up and to the south, a hawk hovered over the downs.

Frahto cleared his throat. “Well, as I was saying before, Gentah asked us to meet you so we could take the horses back to camp.” His words were loud and jarring. “That way, you can start your return journey now. We brought provisions.”

“What?” Adehl shook herself. She groped for her water flask and took a swig. “Did you say provisions? That would be appreciated, but I’m heading to Tarsah.” The reminder of her destination made her heart ache. She needed to see her father, hoped desperately he was all right after his accident. “I was intending to stay overnight in your camp.”

Frahto slapped a fly off his arm. “There might, uh, be a problem.”

“Plans change,” Roh said, as though continuing an argument. “If Adehl is riding to Tarsah, of course she should stay with us.”

Frahto said nothing, but his frown made his sentiments clear. Doubtless sensing Adehl’s escalating unease, Cloud tossed his head, and she laid a hand on his neck, calmed his llirah with a thread of rhythm. “How far is Fortune Spring from here?” she asked, to fill the silence.

“About four hours ride.” Roh smiled and his confidence almost reassured her — until she remembered what had just happened. She couldn’t let him get too close. Maybe she should take the provisions they offered and avoid the camp. Her spirits fell at the diminishing prospect of a convivial evening around a fire, with fresh-cooked food and a sleeping pallet.

Frahto said, “Roh, I don’t think —”

“Enough.” Roh sat still in the saddle. “Gentah wouldn’t want a Vuusah zehli to skirt our camp when it’s on the way.”

“You’re taking full responsibility.”

“Look,” Adehl said, trying to make sense of their exchange. “What’s going on? You said there was a problem — is someone ill?”

Frahto shrugged and glanced pointedly at Roh.

“There’s no problem.” Roh’s jaw jutted stubbornly, and Adehl didn’t believe him. “Our doyen thought you could cut off a day from your journey if we met you out here. But that’s obviously not the case, so now we’ll escort you to our camp. All right?”

Adehl allowed Roh’s conviction to override her doubts. Surely one night couldn’t hurt. They could feed her, give her somewhere to sleep, and she’d leave first thing in the morning. As long as she kept to herself, everything would be fine. She wouldn’t let her guard down again.

She adjusted her grip on the lead rein. Despite being strung closely together, the horses all had their heads down, grazing furiously on clumps of weeping grass. She’d been letting out the rope gradually as they moved away and now hauled them in. “Let’s go then,” she said.

Muttering something that was lost to the breeze, Frahto wheeled his horse around and set off the way he and Roh had come, following their trail of trampled grass and flowers. Adehl let out the cry that would spur all her horses into action. The wind riffled her hair as Cloud launched into a canter after Frahto’s chestnut, Roh’s horse right alongside hers.