Apparently, even warrior-priests could feel cold.

Amyu and the guards were waiting, and they stepped back as Wild Winds walked past them. I fell into step beside him, and Amyu and the others followed behind, silent.

After a moment, I risked a question. “What was in the smoke?”

“What was in the jar?” Wild Winds fired back.

“Fever’s foe,” I answered, using the Xyian words. “You make it by—”

“You’d share that?” He stopped and stared at me. “With me?”

I stood, and stared right back at him, ignoring the tattoos and focused on his eyes. “Yes.”

We stood there in silence. I refused to look away as he studied me. One of my curls chose that moment to work its way loose, and float down to dance in the breeze.

Wild Winds spun on his heel, and strode off.

I had to run a few paces to catch up, determined to walk beside him, and not behind. The way before us was crowded with people and horses, but it cleared, as all who saw Wild Winds coming yielded the way.

The silence between us continued until I broke it again. “I thought you were in senel with the Council.”

“I was, until word came that your affliction had appeared.” He spared me a glance. “We are not stupid, Xyian. Whether it is an affliction or your ‘illness’, we fear your unseen enemy.”

“I never said you were stupid,” I answered hotly, and would have said more but for the obstacle in our path. A jumble of children and wooden swords came crashing out of a nearby tent. Absorbed in their game, they attacked each other in a flurry of blows, causing them to trip and fall over each other, and sprawl at our feet.

“What is this?” Wild Winds demanded, glaring down at them.

Three heads, covered in red curls, popped up. Pale faces, covered in freckles, went even paler, as three pairs of green eyes widened in horror at the sight of the warrior-priest.

I gasped. Gils . . .

A woman’s voice rose from a tent, seeking the three troublemakers. That set the boys scrambling away through the tents, disappearing as quick as their legs could carry them.

Wild Winds snorted, and continued on his way.

I hesitated, but Amyu and my guards pressed me, and we followed behind.

Wild Winds didn’t speak until we arrived at my tent. He turned to face me, folding his arms over his chest. His glare didn’t bother me in the slightest. I just stood there, and crossed my arms too. And narrowed my eyes for good measure. “I do not understand your healing,” I said.

“I do not understand yours,” he replied.

“You use no herbs.”

“You do not invoke the elements.”

I dropped my arms, and sighed. “I’ve been known to pray to my Goddess.”

Wild Winds hesitated, then gave me a quick nod. “I’ve been known to use certain plants.”

We regarded each other. This time Wild Winds broke the silence. “Keir of the Cat despises warrior-priests and all of our ways. He would see us destroyed. This is no secret.” He lowered his brows, and looked at me intently. “And you?”

I thought for a moment. “Keir is my Warlord,” I said. “But there was a time when I feared all Firelanders. I thought they were savage killers who breathed fire, and killed all living things.”

Wild Winds’s eyebrows shot up, but he simply nodded. “I will think on this.”

I nodded as well. “So will I.”

He turned and strode off without another word, and I watched him go, suddenly confused. Had I just made a friend? No, that was too strong a word. As was ‘ally’. What did that mean?

“Wait,” I called impulsively. Wild Winds paused and looked back at me over his shoulder. I took a few steps closer. “I want to know what is happening. What is going on before the Council?”

He scowled, the tattoos on his face moving to show his displeasure, but I took another step forward. “It’s my life the Council is deciding and it’s not right to keep me ignorant of—”

Wild Winds turned and walked away.

My mouth open, I watched as he strode off again.

“The warrior-priests keep their own counsel,” Amyu spoke from behind me in condescending tones.

It was just as well that no one nearby understood Xyian. I vented my feelings with a few short, pithy comments about warrior-priests in general and stomped right into my tent.

A figure moved in the dimness, and I paused in the entrance, startled. “Who?”

A deep voice chuckled. “Pray to the Sun God my mother never hears you talk like that.”

“Heath!”

I flung myself into my childhood friend’s arms. Heath laughed, and leaned down to press our foreheads together, a ritual greeting just between the two of us. Then he lifted me up and twirled us around, holding me tight, and for a moment I was a child again, safe in the arms of my older ‘brother’. I squeezed him again as he set me on my feet. “Heath, I am so glad to see you!”

“And I, you.” Heath stepped back and spread his arms wide. “Look at you, Lara! A woman of the Plains.”

Amyu paused inside the tent, frowning slightly. I smiled at her, taking Heath’s arm to turn him toward her. “Amyu, this is Heath. He is of Xy.”

Amyu’s face cleared. “I was told of his coming. You may talk over the nooning, Daughter of Xy. But the Warlord Ultie has asked to court you after the meal.” She removed her cloak. “I will bring kavage and food.”

Heath laughed. “Well, I understood ‘kavage’ and my name. But not much else.”

“This is Amyu of the Boar,” I said. “A Warrior of the Plains.”

Heath nodded his head. “Greetings, Warrior.” He spoke the words slowly and carefully.

In a blink, Amyu’s entire posture changed. Wooden-faced and stiff, she inclined her head and left the tent. I would have followed her, to ask how I offended, but Heath had all my attention. He pulled me toward the stools and table. “Lara, there isn’t much time. We must talk.”

I was so full of questions, I didn’t know where to start. “Why are you here? What is happening in Water’s Fall? How are Anna and Othur? And Eln?”

Heath shook his head, his own brown curls dancing. “Calm down, little bird! Let me get a word in edgewise!”

I laughed. We’d looked so alike as children, there’d been those that thought I was his sister, and daughter of Anna and Othur. But now his brown eyes regarded me seriously as he continued in Xyian. “But we’ll speak this tongue.” I gave him a questioning look, and he shrugged. “The Warlord thinks it wise.”

Keir. He’d spoken to Keir! I sat up straight, and opened my mouth with a dozen more questions, but Amyu entered at that point, bearing kavage and a small bowl of gurt.

I accepted a mug, but Heath waved it away. “How can you drink that stuff, Lara?” Heath gave a mock shudder. “It’s so bitter, and one mug sets my hands trembling.”

“I’ve grown to enjoy it.” I took a sip as Amyu left. Heath’s gaze followed her as she left the tent.

“All was well when I left Water’s Fall,” Heath spoke softly. “There wasn’t much time for farewells or letters, Lara. A messenger came, one of those fearsome looking warrior-priests, who walked in during a Council session in the throne room.” Heath rolled his eyes. “The ladies of the Court fainted dead away at the sight.

“The warrior-priest brandished a spear and demanded that Atira go to the Heart of the Plains and appear before the Council to speak her truths.” Heath’s face grew grim. “Simus agreed, but once the messenger left, Simus told us that something was wrong. He swore Atira would not ride alone. We’d barely enough time to gather weapons and gear before we were on our way.” He grimaced slightly. “I’ve never ridden that far, that fast before. We rode as if mountain demons were on our tails, changing horses every hour, or so it seemed. I suspect my body will feel it for days to come.” He shifted a bit on the stool. “Mother and Father would have sent letters, but there wasn’t time.” He grinned. “Mother has taken the baby to her breast, and is cooing and clucking like a hen. It was a good idea to send Meara to her, Lara. The babe has filled her arms and her heart.” Heath rolled his eyes. “But you should have heard her shriek when she saw the babe’s tattoo.”