The faint whistle of a high-pitched amarat horn wafted across the barrens. "I don't think it's the invaders. Kadumi's signaling us to come."

Urging his camel forward, Lander asked, "Why?"

"We're there," Ruha replied. "He dismounted to meet a sentry."

The Harper scanned the horizon with a scowl. "That's unfortunate."

"Why?"

"I'd rather Kadumi didn't meet this new tribe without us being there," Lander replied. "I don't trust him to keep your secret, and there's too much at stake here to let superstition get in the way."

Ruha glanced back to make sure everything was in order with the string of Kadumi's camels she was leading. "We can only hope that he remembers his duty to protect his brother's wife."

"Will he?"

Ruha shrugged. "I think so. He's seemed very bitter since the fight, but that's only natural, considering what he's been through in the past weeks. The blood runs hot in boys that age, and any Bedine would be upset to discover that his brother had married a witch. Still, I don't think he will let his emotions overcome his honor. He impresses me as a boy who listened closely to his father and knows what is expected of a man."

"And what happens if you're wrong?"

"I don't think the sheikh will kill me," she said, avoiding the Harper's gaze. "But he won't listen to you, either. You and I will have to leave."

Lander frowned. "The Zhentarim-"

Ruha lifted her hand to quiet his objection. "If it comes to that, nothing you say will change the sheikh's mind. In that case, I'll help you find another tribe. You can repay the favor by letting me ride with you to your land."

The Harper raised an eyebrow and looked her over from head to toe. "I don't think you'd like Sembia," he said. "Still, if you really want to go, I'll take you there."

"Sembia," Ruha said, smiling to herself. "That is a nice name for home." Aside from its name, she knew only one thing about Lander's home, but it was the only thing she needed to know. In Sembia, at least if the Harper was any example, no one would care that she was a sorceress.

After a moment of silence, Lander scanned the horizon with a furrowed brow. "If we're getting close to Colored Waters," he asked, "why do I see no sign of an oasis?"

"You will," Ruha replied. Though she had never been to Colored Waters, she had heard descriptions of it. The black strip on the horizon was no illusion. It was the great basin where the oasis sat.

As they rode, the sable strip took on the distinct appearance of the abyss marking the site of the final battle before the Scattering. The Bedine believed this was where, centuries before, the gods had destroyed the denizens from the Camp of the Dead. When Ruha was close enough to see the far edge, the hollow assumed the shape of a great, ebony bowl. It was ten miles long, eight miles wide, and over a thousand feet deep.

Except for a few star-shaped dunes of golden silt, its steep walls were covered entirely with a fine, sable-colored soot. In the center of the basin floor, an amber cone, said to be made from the ashes of the denizens, rose nearly as high as the lips of the great bowl.

Five lakes, each the crescent shape of a scimitar's blade, ringed the base of the cinder cone. Each lake was a different color: emerald-green, turquoise, silver as the hilt of a jambiya, sapphire blue, and red as a ruby. According to legend, the different colors resulted when the dried blood of the immortals was washed or blown into the water and dissolved.

Around each lake were clumped wild fig trees, tall golden grasses, and leafy green bushes. Over the entire floor of the basin, salt-brush and hardy lime-green qassis plants poked through the ebony ash, and the grayish yellow camel herds grazed in every part of the black bowl. The huge valley was as close to paradise as any place Ruha had ever seen.

"In the name of Mielikki," Lander gasped. "What hell has that boy led us to?"

Ruha ignored the Harper's question to ask one of her own. "Who is Mielikki?"

"You wouldn't worship her here," Lander answered, unable to rip his gaze away from the ancient caldera before him. "Mielikki is the goddess of the forest. She's my patron and protector, at least until I go down there. What is it?"

Amused by Lander's reaction, Ruha smiled. "Colored Waters, of course."

A few minutes later, they reached the edge of the basin. Ruha could feel heat rising in swells, and the air shimmered in liquid waves that made every distant line a serpent. Noting the caldera's shape and dark color, she could only guess that it acted like a giant funnel for collecting At'ar's radiance. It was a good thing there was plenty of water at the bottom, for any living being staying down there for even a few minutes would grow very thirsty.

Kadumi was waiting with a thin Bedine dressed in sooty black robes. As Ruha and Lander approached, the sentry came forward with a waterskin.

"Stop and drink, berrani." The sentry offered his skin to Lander, repeating a typical Bedine greeting. "You have had a long ride and must be thirsty. Are you hungry as well?"

Lander accepted the other waterskin. "Hungry, no," the Sembian said, taking a long gulp.

The sentry did not mind the rudeness. He grinned and turned to Kadumi. "At least he shows more courtesy than the Black Robe and his short guide."

Lander pulled the waterskin away from his mouth, spewing water all over his camel's neck.

"Black Robe?" he gasped.

Kadumi nodded. "The Zhentarim arrived this morning," he said. "We'll have to wait until he leaves to meet the sheikh."

"No!" Lander protested, thrusting the skin back at the sentry. "We must meet the sheikh before the Zhentarim poisons his thoughts. Perhaps if I had reached the Mtair Dhafir's sheikh earlier, they'd still be alive."

Kadumi grimaced, but turned to the sentry. "At which lake is your sheikh camped?"

The sentry pointed at the emerald pool. "Sheikh Sa'ar makes his camp at the green waters. I'll announce your arrival." The sentry lifted his amarat and blew three shrill notes, then lowered it again. "I'd take you into camp myself, but the Zhentarim are only five miles to the north. The sheikh has ordered the sentries to stay at their posts under all circumstances."

"Sheikh Sa'ar is a wise man," Kadumi responded, climbing onto his kneeling camel.

The first five hundred yards of descent were steep. The camels plunged down the slope, almost galloping to keep from tumbling head over heels, kicking up great billows of black ash that engulfed each rider in a tiny dust storm. With each jolting lunge, Ruha gritted her teeth and grasped her saddle more tightly, expecting to go sprawling through the ebony cinders in a whirlwind of waterskins, kuerabiches, and roaring camels.

A few moments later, the beasts slowed into a jolting canter. With the ash clouds billowing no higher than the camels' humps, the trio could carry on a quivering conversation.

"You didn't tell the guard about my magic, did you Kadumi?" Ruha asked.

"Perhaps I will tell the sheikh," the boy responded, avoiding the widow's gaze.

"A man must do what he thinks is right," Lander agreed.

The Harper's statement stunned Ruha. She began to wonder if she had misjudged Lander's character.

Before she could condemn him, the Harper continued, "Of course, a man's duty to his brother's wife counts for a lot."

The youth glowered at Ruha. "My brother would not have knowingly married a witch."

Lander nodded. "Probably not. Still, Ruha was his wife…" The Harper let the statement drift off without adding anything further, and they continued in silence.

A short time later, Kadumi asked, "What will you say to Sheikh Sa'ar, Harper?"

"I don't know," Lander responded, grasping his makeshift saddle with both hands. "What do you think I should say?"