The revulsion was stronger than the joy. Shrieking, she spit the snake out, and with it went her power, as the water flowed back into the River and returned it to its former level. But then she saw something else, a thing by a small stony cairn, and the horror began again.

Until she awoke, fingers balled into fists, wondering where she was. She sat thus for long, terrible moments as it all came back to her. A dream, a dream, a dream, she repeated to herself, but she knew it for more than that. It was really a distorted memory of what had actually happened scant months ago, when the River tried to manifest in her frail body and had very nearly succeeded. But she had escaped that, hadn't she? Escaped her curse?

She gradually understood that she was in a ben', one of the horsehide tents the Mang used for camping. She was cold, except on her left side, where the dog, Heen, lay curled against her, snoring raspily. Nearby, Brother Horse snuffled out a harmony to the canine's tuneless song. Earlier, Hezhi had found these noises distracting; now they comforted her, for they were Human, mundane.

But she was in danger again, as certainly as Heen was a dog. And Brother Horse knew it. He had forced camp before they had gone half a league beyond the cairn where she saw…

Tomorrow he would explain. Tomorrow.

She lay back, her breathing growing calmer, but sleep did not return to her that night.

HEZHI drew her knees up beneath her chin as she watched the colorful riders enter the village, listened to their raucous shouts. The half Giant sitting next to her stirred restlessly, shifting a frame easily twice as massive as that of any Human as he braided and unbraided fingers like fat sausages into a double fist resting against his thick-featured face. The knotted hand hid a scowl, and she could imagine she heard his teeth grinding.

“Princess …” the Giant began, but Hezhi shook her head.

“Hush, Tsem,” she said. “Watch the riders. I want to write Ghan about this.”

“I've seen plenty of these barbarians enter the camp in the past few days,” Tsem grumbled. “I've had little else to do.”

“That isn't what Tiin tells me,” Hezhi answered, glancing sidewise at the half Giant.

Tsem blushed almost purple. “One has to do something to pass the time,” he mumbled. ”I can't hunt, horses groan beneath my weight—”

“But at least you can entertain the unmarried women,” Hezhi finished. “Just as in Nhoi.” She sharpened her glance. “Unmarried, Tsem. These people are not as forgiving in their policies toward adultery as those you are accustomed to.”

Tsem scrunched his face in mock concern, bushy eyebrows steepling like mountain ridges. “What might the penalty be?” he asked.

“You know Barks-Like-a-Dog?”

“The old man with no nose?”

“Exactly.”

“Oh. Oh! ” Tsem's face fell into lines of real dismay.

“So take care,” she cautioned.

“I can do that,” Tsem replied. “I'm glad you told me.”

“This isn't Nhol, Tsem. Don't ever think it is. Nothing we know will serve us out here.”

Tsem snorted. “People are people, Princess. Much of what I know serves me wherever I go.”

Hezhi started at the bitterness in that. It was rare for Tsem to display such acrimony.

“What is troubling you, Tsem?”

As they spoke, thirty warriors thundered around the village, shrieking like demons. Each bore a long, colorful streamer knotted to a lance, and the result was breathtaking, barbaric, a cyclone of color. Unmarried girls dodged in and out among the surging mounts, snatching at the streamers, while younger children jostled alongside, jangling strings of bells and clapping wooden noisemakers together. The din was impressive.

Tsem was silent, pretending to watch the spectacle; Hezhi prodded him with her toe, then kicked him when he did not respond. He turned on her, flashing knuckle-size teeth in a dangerous-looking scowl, and she was again taken aback by the anger in his reply.

“You cannot ask me that,” he snapped. “If you cannot tell me what troubles you, then I…” He trailed off into a growl and a glare.

“Tsem,” Hezhi began, laying her small hand on the corded bulk of his arm. The muscles in his neck worked silently for a moment as he ground his teeth. Then he sighed and turned a milder gaze on her.

“What good am I out here, Princess?” he asked after a moment. “What good have I been to anyone since leaving Nhol? Since before that, even?”

“Tsem, you were injured.”

“Yes, and stupidly so. And you have had to pay for my healing, pay by working like a common maid.”

“That has nothing to do with you, Tsem. These people expect everyone to work. There are no princesses among the Mang.”

“And what sort of work am I suited to? Now that I have healed, what will I do to show my worth?”

“Tiin said—”

Tsem dismissed that with a roll of his eyes. “Curiosity, Princess. Woman are always curious about me. Once. Novelty is a fleeting thing. The truth is, these people think I am worthless, and they are not far from the truth. I was raised to be the servant of a princess, and, as you say, there are no nobles here.”

“No slaves, either,” Hezhi reminded him. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself. There are things you can learn to do.”

Tsem began to reply, but then his eyes bulged.

“You did it,” he swore.

“What?”

“Made me tell you. Made me complain. The only thing I know how to do is serve you, and you won't even talk to me.”

“We are talking,” Hezhi noticed.

Tsem turned his eyes back to the riders. Some of the girls had managed to snatch pennants, and now the original bearers of those streamers were chasing them, trying to grab them up onto their horses.

“Something happened to you,” he said. “Something bad. Are you going to tell me?” The bitterness had left his voice, but there was challenge there, as if she were withholding something she owed him.

“I don't know,” she said at last. “I don't know what happened. Brother Horse tried to explain.”

“But it has to do with your… nature.”

She shrugged. “Brother Horse said that I saw a god. He saw it, too; just a little god, he said, the child of some spider goddess.”

“Did you?”

“I saw something. No, it was more than seeing …”

She felt suddenly very close to tears. Her voice trembled as she said, “I thought I had escaped it, Tsem, but my blood is doing something. I thought I was safe”

Tsem gently drew her to him, and she relaxed, rested against his mammoth frame and took comfort in the familiar smell of him. She closed her eyes and imagined that they were in her mother's rooftop garden, hot sun bleaching the city white around them—before everything, before the whole nightmare began, when she was still just a little girl.

“I don't know about these things,” Tsem soothed, “but Brother Horse says you will not change, will not become one of the Blessed. We are far and far from the River, Princess.”

“Yes, so Brother Horse said. But Tsem—in Nhol there was only the River, the River and ghosts. Nothing else. Out here, there are gods everywhere. Every other rock, every creek. Everywhere. And if I am going to start seeing them, the way Brother Horse does, the way I did yesterday … if that happens, I will lose my mind.”

Tsem patted her shoulder thoughtfully. “Does Brother Horse believe that this will happen, that you will keep seeing these gods?”

“Yes,” Hezhi confirmed. “Yes, he thinks that I will.”

“Oh,” Tsem said. He turned his gaze thoughtfully back to the village perimeter, where the great chase was winding down; horsemen were beginning to dismount and clasp their relatives to them. The air was thick with the smell of roasted meat; soon the feasting would begin.

“While odd,” Tsem began again, in an optimistic tone, “Brother Horse has not lost his mind, and you say he sees these gods. Perkar speaks of seeing gods, as well. It cannot be so terrible as you fear.”