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sure how long they might have stayed that way, but a sudden cry rang out behind him, and a pulse of that strange magic Daks had experienced the night before flooded his senses.

Seven Hells! Not now. Not so close to the city!

Forgetting the horse, Daks swung around in a panic. Ravi’s back arched off the bed of the wagon only for a few seconds before he moaned and collapsed again. The horse squealed in distress and reared away as Daks vaulted over the side of the wagon, ignoring the animal completely.

“Ravi, are you okay?” Daks asked he knelt by Ravi’s prone body. “Push it back if you can. Can you hear me?”

Magic tingled along his skin but dissipated quickly. “That’s right. Push it back.”

As the last vestiges faded to nothing, he blew out a relieved breath, but they weren’t necessarily safe. That Finder or another could have been searching the area for any magical sign. And while a Sensitive’s range was usually not that long, and scrying was forbidden magic in Rassa, after witnessing that brother use a summoning stone last night, Daks couldn’t be sure of anything anymore.

“Is your friend okay?” Haruk asked, sounding spooked despite his earlier declarations of magical tolerance.

“He’s seems okay now. I don’t know what that was, maybe a nightmare,” Daks replied, still frowning at the sleeping man in front of him.

“Okay. Good,” Haruk breathed.

An outraged squeal rent the air.

Daks whipped around in time to see Vahal get knocked on his impressive ass by the enraged stallion. A leather strap swung from the creature’s neck as it reared, but just when Daks thought it would trample the man, the thing settled back on the ground, flapped its lips at them, and sauntered toward the back of the wagon.

Bemused, Daks glanced between Haruk, Vahal on the ground, and the regal animal gazing benignly at him from a few feet away.

“Are you okay?” Daks called to Vahal without letting the horse out of his sight.

“I’m fine,” Vahal answered irritably.

Daks cast a quick concerned glance at Ravi; then he scooted hesitantly toward the back of the wagon. He extended a cautious hand toward the horse’s silver-and-pink muzzle, and it nuzzled his palm and gently lipped his skin.

“Oooooookay,” Daks murmured.

“Feh,” Vahal grumbled as he climbed to his feet and brushed himself off. “Do you two know each other?”

“No. I’ve never seen it before in my life.”

“Well, it seems you have a new friend, then.”

Daks cocked an eyebrow at the horse, but the creature just gave him what appeared to be a smug look. “I guess so.”

Ignoring the strange horse for a second, he glanced back at Ravi and then anxiously scanned the horizon. They needed to get on the road before Ravi had another episode. A moving target was harder to find. He slid out of the wagon, past the horse, and walked toward the road, searching for any sign of Shura. If she took much longer, he might have to start their journey alone and make her catch up. But she and Maran’s lieutenant had the horses, and Daks had a still-unconscious Ravi and all the packs stowed inside crates in the wagon, so that wasn’t going to work. He worried his lower lip as he pondered his options until a nudge from behind nearly sent him sprawling in the dirt. He caught himself just in time and threw a glare over his shoulder at the white stallion. It shook its head and whickered in response.

Pursing his lips, Daks temporarily dismissed the problem of Shura and approached the animal. As before, it nuzzled his outstretched hand. Encouraged, Daks stepped close and ran his palm down the horse’s neck to its shoulder, and it leaned into his touch. Something tingled at the edge of his consciousness, but when he tried to pin it down, it disappeared. Shrugging it off, he returned his attention to the horse. It really was a magnificent animal. Someone out there was obviously missing it, but they could definitely use another mount.

“What do you say, horse? If I sling some packs and an unconscious man over your back, are you gonna kick me and bolt?”

He’d need to rig up a bridle somehow, at least. He could ride bareback, but with only the horse’s mane to hold on to, he didn’t like his chances if it bolted. The stallion held his gaze with one calm pale blue eye until the sound of hoofbeats approaching made them both turn toward the road.

Even at a distance, with little more than moonlight, Daks would know Shura’s silhouette anywhere, and his shoulders slumped in relief. He hadn’t been overly worried for her safety, getting out of the city. No one was looking for her, and there shouldn’t be any reason for her to be detained, but shit sometimes happened, and it was always better to have her where he could watch her back.

“Any problems?” he called when she was within easy earshot.

“No. Couple of gate guards got a little handsy, and I was tempted to remove said hands at the wrists, but calmer minds prevailed.” She jerked her head toward her companion as she said that last, and Daks’s attention shifted to the other rider.

Maran’s lieutenant was a petite woman, possibly in her late twenties or early thirties. Her pale blonde hair had been coiled around her head in a modest thick braid that looked like it might reach her thighs when it was unbound. Even in the austere woolen tunic and leggings pious Rassans seemed to prefer, she was a pretty little thing, and Daks cocked an eyebrow at Shura as he fought a smile. “Calmer minds?”

Ignoring the comment, Shura lifted a hand in the other woman’s direction. “Dakso Kavalyan, may I present Mistress Fara Sabin, Maran’s right hand and our new traveling companion.”

“Mistress Sabin.” He gave her a brief nod as he heaved an internal sigh. “You can call me Daks.”

She didn’t look particularly useful in a fight—or anything else for that matter—but it was clear Shura was

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