“Tand bayarlaa,” I said with more feeling this time. And I meant it. Cooling my heels was a good idea, because I was pretty sure that if I spoke to Miss Gale now, I’d explode.

We walked back to the others and they all joined in the congratulations. I only half listened as Zerleg in particular grinningly told the story in more detail than I remembered. Apparently, he was satisfied that I’d avenged his loss. At least that was something.

My brain buzzed. What the hell was Ronnie doing here? This was no mirage. I saw her. And what were the odds she’d be in Mongolia…let alone this tiny fragment of it? I wanted answers to these questions, but not yet. First I had to honor my friends, who’d done so much to get me this far.

“To Coney!” Chudruk pushed a glass of vodka into my hands and raised a toast. Both families cheered as I drained my cup. The warmth surged through my veins, which was good, because I was still wearing my uniform and it was a bit chilly.

“Cy?” Veronica’s voice caught me off guard, and I turned to see her at the edge of the crowd. The Mongolians stared at her. I wondered if any of them had ever seen a blonde woman before.

I nodded to my hosts, then crossed over to her. She looked me up and down, then did something unexpected. Veronica Gale burst into laughter.

“You…you look great!” She giggled.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I growled.

This drew her up short. “You…you’re mad at me?”

I wrestled mentally with this one. “No,” I lied.

She pointed at me, eyes wide in astonishment. “You are mad at me! Unbelievable!”

“I’m not mad at you,” I said quietly, clearly indicating that I was. “I’m just upset at losing my concentration and losing the match.”

Her eyes narrowed and she put her hands on her hips. “You blame me for this! Don’t you?”

I took her by the elbow and guided her away from the others. “No. I don’t blame you for this.” Because that would be unreasonable. “I blame myself.” Liar.

Veronica did not look convinced. “Right.”

We stared at each other for an uncomfortable moment. Then I realized I was actually happy to see her, in spite of being pissed off.

“Let’s take a walk,” I said as I took her hand and led her away from the festival. We didn’t have to go very far to find a place to be alone. We must have looked odd to the Mongolians-two blond Caucasians, bickering. Veronica just held on to my hand and followed.

It surprised me how intimate it felt to hold her hand. I didn’t have many opportunities for that. Most of my liaisons since college didn’t feature enough time for that simple, affectionate act. Holding Ronnie’s hand made me feel the stirrings of an emotion I’d long since given up on.

There was a collection of rocks about two hundred yards from the party. I sat down on a large, flat stone and Veronica joined me, dropping my hand and drawing her knees up under her chin. It was pretty adorable.

“What are you doing here?” The walk had given me a chance to calm down.

“I could ask you the same thing.” She met my gaze defiantly. It seemed as though, while my anger had dissipated, hers was just heating up.

“I’m here to participate in the festival.”

“I’m here to observe it,” she said flatly. I guess she was pissed off with the way I’d acted.

“Why?”

“It’s part of my doctoral thesis. And I’ll be interviewing natives and outsiders at the national competition. I came early to get a grasp on everything.” Veronica looked away for a moment, as if she didn’t want to meet my eyes.

“Another paper, eh?” I grinned.

“I take my education very seriously.”

“I believe that. But what will you do once there is nothing left to study?”

Her shoulders slumped, and I wished I could’ve taken the words back. “I don’t know.”

I decided to change tack. No point in beating her up over this. I’d done it enough before.

“So, tell me how coming here relates to your thesis,” I said with what I hoped looked like a reassuring smile as I sat there on a rock in pink briefs.

“My dissertation examines the ways men choose to glorify violence through everything from tribal war games to murder and assassination. Unfortunately, my thesis committee considered my writing ‘too stiff and dry,’ so they wanted me to observe these war games up close and hopefully apply that to my research.”

“But the national naadam isn’t for another few weeks,” I pointed out. “Why come early?”

“My professors thought it would be good for me.” She cocked her head. “Do I seem dull to you?”

I laughed. “No. Not at all. I had fun with you in Miami.” And I did too, I realized.

“Well, the people I work with think I don’t know how to live. They believe I think fun is a four-letter word.”

My laughter came a little harder. “At least you didn’t correct them there.”

Her eyes grew wide. “What do you mean by that? Of course I told them fun has three letters.”

Wow. She needed to lighten up. “You know what? I understand why they sent you here now.”

She fairly growled. “Well, I don’t get it. Honestly-Mongolia? Why couldn’t I find something like that in Paris? But no, I have to pick something located in a barren wasteland where the language is impossible. Fine. I’m here, but I don’t have to like it.”

I couldn’t help smiling. Was I the only person who found this little tiff engaging?

“I mean,” Veronica continued, “who in their right mind thinks of Mongolia when going on her first vacation since starting college seven years ago? Well, it’s too late to back out. It was nice of Professor Bialsky to arrange for a grant and everything, since I couldn’t afford the trip otherwise. But why do I have the feeling in the back of my mind that they are trying to get rid of me?”

“Are you talking to me or yourself?” I asked.

“You are laughing at me.”

“Only on the inside, I swear.”

“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t be laughing so hard if you had a mirror.” With that she folded her arms.

I looked down at myself. My body was in peak condition. It wasn’t terribly embarrassing to be wearing such a skimpy uniform.

“I mean, what’s with the little panties and tiny shrug?” She started smiling at last. “And the little pointed hat and curly-toed boots? I can’t figure it out!”

“All right, Ronnie. Here’s your first lesson.” I then explained the reason for the open-chested zodag and the fact that the “panties” were for ease of movement.

Unfortunately, I had no idea about the little hat and elflike boots.

Her mouth dropped open, and for a moment I wondered what it would be like to kiss that mouth when she was sober.

“You mean this…whatever you called it”-she fingered the edge of my sleeve-“is to keep women from competing? Seriously?”

I nodded. “Genghis Khan referred to this as the Three Manly Games. He used them not only to train his warriors, but also to pit political rivals against one another. He obviously believed the sport shouldn’t be tainted by women. And the Mongolians concur.”

She snorted. “Sounds mighty sexist to me.”

I shook my head. “Genghis Khan wasn’t exactly a feminist, but he had high regard for women. He revered his mother and his favorite wife. They had a lot of power for women of that time. But he felt that this was a man’s world and sport.”

“You sound like you admire him.”

“I do. The man came from nothing. He was a peasant and a bastard, and ended up ruling an area stretching from Russia to China to India. He did this with a group of archers on horseback. He opened up the Silk Road, introducing East to West, and his sons and grandsons ruled Russia, China and India until the nineteen twenties. There’s a lot to admire about a man like that.”

Veronica sat silently, digesting the information. As a cultural anthropologist, she was bound to be interested.

“I read an article before I came,” she said as she stared off into the distance, “that said that a large percentage of people in the world can trace their DNA back to Mongolia. That must be why.”