Denai proved to be a woman of her word. She could not only keep up with him, she could outpace him on flat ground. She ran with him for most of the rest of the day, leading him to the north, towards her tribe. Ran in silence while Tarrin continued to teach Sarraya the Sha'Kar language. The thought of entering a Selani group didn't sit well with him, did not sit well at all. He understood the Selani, but such a group invited disaster. There could be one or more within the tribe that didn't care for him, and may challenge him over his presence in the desert. Among the Selani, that meant a fight. Since he wasn't Selani, that made it a fight to the death. He didn't much relish the idea of killing any headstrong Selani in duels of honor, because that would incite the others to side against him, and could provoke even more challenges. He would take this Selani girl back to her tribe, but his intent was to hold back, let her go and get what she wanted, then move on after a little while. She was a strong runner, she could catch up to him.

They reached the encampment of the tribe just before sunset, and they had to come through a large flock of sukk and a small herd of goats to reach it. The animals, sensing Tarrin's predatory nature, bleated and gave shrieking cries and shied away from him as Denai led him through their groups, clearing a wide path around the two as they moved towards an encampment of about fifty large tan tents. Denai's tribe was very large, maybe the tribe that carried the Clan-chief within it. A tribe was part of its clan, but the Clan-chief was known to stay with the tribe from which he came after winning the position. He saw the first of them as he moved through the flocks, young boys and girls with long staves, herding and minding the animals. Tarrin's presence sent most of them scurrying towards the camp quickly, and those that did not leave the flocks stared at him in open-mouthed astonishment. He was already anxious over Denai, but now he was going to be absolutely surrounded by strangers if he didn't come up short of the camp. It was what he intended to do in the first place.

Now that he was closer, he could see the goings on within the camp. He could see well over two hundred Selani in the camp, and they all had their hoods and veils off in the waning heat of the late afternoon. They were bent to a variety of tasks, from making pottery jars to weaving ropes to tanning leather, to practicing their fighting forms and training with weapons. A small group of Selani youths were on the near side of the camp, casting javelins at a gnarled stump protruding from the sandy soil. The Selani disdained projectile weapons like bows or crossbows, favoring hand-thrown objects like javelins, axes, and daggers or knives. The superior Selani foot speed and agility meant that they could easily get within that range when it was necessary. But their preferred method of fighting was hand to hand, and it was here where they earned their reputation as some of the finest fighters in the entire world.

Tarrin pulled up about a hundred paces from the outer tents. Denai took a few more steps, then stopped and turned towards him with a curious look on her face. "You should meet my tribe, Tarrin," she told him. "They would welcome you. You showed honor by helping me."

"I told you, I don't like strangers," he said gruffly. "I'm going to circle around to the north side of the camp and wait for you. I'll give you until sunset, and then I'm moving again."

"You mean to move at night? Tarrin, that is not safe."

"I can handle myself, girl," he said in a warning tone.

"The Sandmen move at night. It's not safe to move at night."

"Sandmen? Allia never described them. What are they?"

"Restless spirits of those who died from the desert's hardship," she replied. "They are spirits of sand. They can't be hurt, but they can suffocate with their sand. They stay away from the lights of fires, so you are safe so long as you stay within the light."

"Sarraya?"

"I've never heard of them either," she told him. "I could take one, though. If it's made of sand, I can deal with it on that level."

"Good enough for me," he said calmly. "You have until sunset. If you stay here tonight, don't bother trying to catch up."

"You are foolish to challenge the Sandmen," she warned.

"I don't fear ghosts, girl," he replied with a level look. "The ghosts had better fear me. I'm much worse than they are."

She gave him a sidelong look, then dazzled him what that charming smile. "I think I've found someone who will fill the nights of my grandchildren with wonderful songs," she told him, then she started towards the Selani encampment.

Tarrin snorted, then turned to circumnavigate the camp. Sarraya floated along beside his head, looking around him at the Selani who gathered with weapons in their hands to observe them. "They're a pretty paranoid bunch," she noted. "The Selani I met when I was in the desert weren't so mean looking."

"Sounds like this is a pretty rough stretch of desert," he replied. "Allia never talked about these Sandmen, so they must only be native to this area. Sounds like these Selani get lots of exercise."

"That girl certainly seems adventurous. I get the feeling she's so set on going with us just for the excitement of it."

"Possible. If she wants excitement, I'm sure she'll find lots of it. Considering the way trouble always seems to follow us around."

Sarraya laughed. "That's for certain," she agreed with a continuing chuckle. "You sure you're ready to deal with a stranger?"

"No," he answered honestly. "But something inside me wants to try anyway. Maybe the part of me that's so tired of being what I am."

"Nothing wrong with trying," she assured him. "She seems pretty self-sufficient. If we send her away, I don't doubt she'll make it back to her tribe."

"She's just a girl," he snorted. "She shouldn't be off her mother's leash."

"The desert raises them young, Tarrin," Sarraya replied. "Besides, Selani age slower than humans. She looks eighteen, but I'll bet she's probably around twenty-five. She's cute."

"You're noticing the wrong things about the wrong gender, Sarraya."

"Women can appreciate the beauty of another woman, Tarrin," she said curtly. "And besides, she's not half as pretty as I am."

"You certainly have a high opinion of yourself."

"She's the wrong color. All wrong. How can she be truly beautiful unless she has blue skin?"

"I think some racial prejudice is showing through."

"Posh," Sarraya snorted. "She's cute, I'll give her that, but nowhere near me."

"Why all this sudden interest in how cute a Selani woman is, Sarraya?"

"Just comparing, Tarrin. Women like to do that. It's not like I want to date her or anything."

"I'm so glad to hear that. I'm sure she would be too."

"What a thing to say!"

"It's true. You're way too short for her."

Sarraya glared at him, then she burst out into helpless laughter.

Tarrin managed to skirt the camp, getting around on the north side, without too much trouble. He displaced a smaller flock of sukk as he came around, the large birds wanting nothing to do with the Were-cat, and he found a nice rock upon which to sit while he waited for Denai, while Sarraya flitted off to go look at something. He had no idea why he was waiting for Denai. He should have just moved on, and let her decide whether it was worth the trouble to catch up with him. Part of him wanted nothing to do with her. But another part of him did want something to do with her, and for the first time in a very long while, that part of him was shouting louder than his fear. It could have been because he saw her as a child, it could have been because she was Selani, and he trusted Selani up to a point, or it could have been that he was simply ready to see if he could tolerate strangers.