Manlee raised her arms at the top of the boulder, and shouted to the crowd before her.
"We are gathered in The Eye of Tengri-Nayon, and in the presence of the living Empress Mandughai, who watches over us! See that presence before you, and have faith in Her return. Tengri-Nayon comes nearer, and with it five thousand warriors such as you see before you.
"I have been told this in a dream, and have seen the emerald eyes of the Empress who will lead them in our liberation. She has heard the cries of Her people, and feels our pain. I have heard Her words in my mind, have seen the images of the Emperor's city in flames and a new beginning for the Tumatsin in the valleys taken from us.
"But you must believe. You must show your belief as you contemplate Tengri's Eye, and send forth a prayer to Mandughai for our liberation!"
The mounted women had reached the pool, turning their horses to face the crowd in a line along water's edge. Ma was in the center of the group, staring fixedly ahead like the rest of them. All eyes were on her, Kati realized. Everyone was looking at Ma! But Ma didn't seem to see them.
Kati was frightened, her little hands clenching at Da's hair. "She doesn't see me, Da. She doesn't know I'm here. What is wrong with her?"
"Be still," said Da, reaching up to take her hands in his. "Your mother has gone within herself to make her appearance, and it is a difficult thing to do. She will be as you know her soon enough. Now watch, and listen."
"Now erect your tents, and put your possessions inside," shouted Manlee. "Tonight's meal is already being prepared on the Festival fields, and the procession will continue in only a few moments."
The mounted women turned, and went towards the mouth of the narrow canyon from which the dull roaring sound came like a breath. Manlee descended from her boulder, and walked along with them, one hand on the bridle of Ma's horse. They stopped at the canyon's mouth, and waited while chaos erupted on the sands around the pool. Tents were thrown up without care or ceremony, possessions tossed carelessly inside. Da put Kati down, and she awakened Baber, who'd been sleeping on their folded tent throughout all the din. She held him as their tent went up, his head lolling on her shoulder, eyes still closed. She shook him twice, and finally he was awake, complaining about being hungry.
"Soon we eat, but first we have to walk. Here, take my hand."
Baber was too tired to refuse. He took her hand as they lined up close to the mounted women. Da did not take her hand, but walked right behind her. That was good, for she was responsible for her brother. Ma had told her so.
The trail up the canyon was rocky and steep, and there was a sharp odor like burning oil that seared her nostrils. Baber was fully awake now, stepping high over the larger rocks without complaint, and without her pulling him. A breeze down the canyon brought a sudden draft of hot air, then was gone. And the noise was getting louder, a growling rumble that seemed to come from all around them. The canyon walls were closing in, and suddenly Kati was frightened. She squeezed Baber's hand tightly, and moved slightly in front of him. Ahead, the mounted women had stopped, looking to the right and holding out their swords in a salute. When they moved on, Manlee stayed behind, and held out her arms to those who followed.
"Remember to offer a prayer when you pass by. Tengri must hear from your hearts that Empress Mandughai's return is the will of all Tumatsin, not just a few. Offer your prayer, then move on quickly. There are many of us."
Those ahead of Kati stopped by Manlee, turned to their right and bowed their heads, eyes closed. The roar was now deafening, the air swirling and hot. When she came up to Manlee, the woman smiled at her, and Kati saw that her eyes were light green. The woman gestured, and Kati followed her hand.
And beheld The Eye of Tengri.
A depression in the rock wall, an opening to a cave, shaped like an oval, blackness beyond, and from it issued the roar and a stream of hot air smelling of burning oil. She held her breath, felt Baber pressing up against her, and closed her eyes in the face of the hot breath from the cave. And as she stood that way, for only a moment, it seemed that thoughts came to her that were not her own, but from those around her. Surely they were in her mind only, for the roar was too loud for conversation.
Hear their prayers, great one, and send your Empress to deliver them from the Emperor's injustice. Their faith grows weak, and there are those who plot war without your aid. We have been alone for so long. Why have you abandoned us? I ask this, as well as the people. Have we not—
Protect my children, and my wife, whose eyes mirror those of our Empress. Return to us this pass, and help us to reclaim our lands. We feel alone, and forgotten—
I see a cave with a fire inside. Our prayers are unanswered for a thousand years. What kind of God are you?
People were pressing from behind, and they moved again. Kati opened her eyes, saw Da walking with his eyes still closed, his lips moving silently. Baber's eyes were as large as a cup, his tiny fingernails digging into her hand. The trail steepened, and then the horses ahead suddenly disappeared on flat ground at the top of the canyon. Kati hurried her steps, Baber running to keep up, and they came out onto a grassy plain stretching north, west and east.
It was the festival field, and Kati gasped in surprise and delight.
There were tents as far as she could see, huge things the size of a ger, but gaily colored and topped with golden awnings from which long ribbons fluttered in the breeze. The smell of meat cooking made her mouth water, and there was the odor of ayrog and honey as well. The tents surrounded a large, vacant area of grass bordered by ribboned rope strung between standards bearing the flags of the various ordus.
But the first thing she really saw were the ponies.
Seven were tethered at the near end of the big field. Kati looked at Da, and squealed, "I want to see the little horses!"
Da put a hand on her shoulder, and smiled. "In a little while. First, we must eat, and then I'll take you to the ponies. I think the little grey one with white spots is looking at you."
Kati couldn't find the grey pony, because Da took her hand and hurried her away towards the tents too fast.
They found the tent with their standard placed before it, and waited for a long time until everyone had filed onto the field and was settled. In the meantime, the mounted women had appeared again and Kati watched Ma lead them round and around the big, grassy area in a line, swords upright, eyes fixed ahead. Ma had changed again, and her face was no longer fierce, her eyes their normal brown. How could she do that?
Cooking pits had been dug beyond the tents, and they feasted on strips of lamb and beef, onions cooked whole, breads and barley cakes, and cheese. There was tea, and ayrog for the men, in great supply, and finally yijin, the sticky cakes made from spun honey. Kati ate five of them.
As Tengri-Khan dipped near the horizon, some of the men were a little drunk, and even Da was talking louder than usual. Ma had not eaten, was still with the mounted women, now lined up at the far end of the field near the ponies. And then the most wonderful thing happened. Manlee suddenly appeared on the field, and shouted loudly, "Fathers, bring your daughters!"
Da had just put Baber in the tent for a nap. Now he took her hand, and said, "Do you still want to see the ponies?"
"Oh, yes!"
They ducked under the rope bordering the field, and walked towards the little horses. Other fathers were coming with their daughters, one of them Edi, the little girl Kati had met on the trail. They all converged on the ponies, and there was laughter in the crowd around them.
Da led her straight to a grey with white spots, a thick, black mane and tail. Kati knew where to look, and saw it was a girl horse. She was bridled, but without saddle, and looked down at her with velvety, brown eyes when Kati stroked her nose.
"This one has been watching you," said Da; he lifted Kati up astride the animal, and placed the reins in her hands. Kati could barely restrain her joy. She was going to ride!
"I will lead you around once," said Da, "and then you ride alone. Be gentle with her. She is a fine pony."
"I know, Da." Of course she knew what to do. Hadn't Da shown her that over the many hours on Kaidu?
Da led the pony, and they circled the field past hundreds of smiling faces, but as they completed the circle Da walked away from her, and she saw that Ma and the other mounted women were walking their horses on the circle ahead of her. She felt the pony's muscles tense, and pressed with her knees. The pony trotted behind the women without hesitation and followed their pace.
Kati was not aware of how many times they circled the field that day. She only remembered that each time the women ahead of her increased their speed until finally they were in a full gallop, Kati leaning forward, her hands clutching the mane of the pony, the wind whipping at her face and hair.
The day could not be more wonderful.
And then suddenly it was.
When they finally stopped, Da came to lift her down, and said, "is she a good horse?"
"Oh, Da, she's wonderful!"
"And what would you name this horse if she was yours?"
"I would call her Sushua, Da, like the little flowers in the rocks."
"Then the name of your pony is Sushua. She is your animal, Kati, and you must care for her. Your mother and I give her to you as your first horse."
"DA!" cried Kati. She jumped up and hugged her father hard, and around them there was laughter.
Ma and the other horsewomen had disappeared from the field. Da let Kati ride until dark, round and around the circle. Edi had named her pony Tani, and Kati learned the girl lived on a rocky shelf overlooking the great sea to the west. Her father was a fisherman, and Edi's favorite thing was collecting shells on the sandy beaches along the coast.
By nightfall, the two girls had become fast friends.
Kati left Sushua tethered on the field, and reluctantly joined the procession back to the pool. She was tired, and all the food and riding had produced a knot in her stomach that wouldn't go away. And she wondered where Ma had gone. Da carried a sleeping Baber, and Kati followed without having her hand held, feeling very independent. The line moved quickly down the canyon and past Tengri's Eye, for it seemed everyone was tired. When she neared the place where Manlee again stood, Kati saw orange glow on the canyon walls, and Manlee's hair was brilliant, like a transparent crown of light.
Again the hot blast of air in her face, but she held her eyes open, for the cave maw was no longer black, but a bright orange. Reflected light, she suddenly realized, coming from a hot fire deep within the cave. She stared at the brilliant oval of the maw, and thought of her pendant. Her eyes felt dry, and she briefly closed them. In the darkness, it seemed there was a pair of emerald eyes, looking at her. Kati could still see them in her mind when she reached their camp by the pool.
A bonfire had been lit, and flames were leaping up to twice the height of a man. Ma came out of their tent, dressed in her normal leathers, and was hugged by Da. Kati hesitated to come closer, until Ma held out her arms to her and then she was being swept up in an embrace.
"Thank you for my horse, Ma. I love her," she murmured into her mother's neck.
"I was watching you," said Ma. "You ride very well. But tomorrow you will see some real riding from the boys and the men in Mandughai's cavalry charge. I must dress up again for that, for I play the part of Mandughai."
"Because you can make your eyes turn to green, like today?"
"Only Manlee and your mother can do that," said Da. "Our family is honored because of such a gift."
"It says that the blood of our Empress Mandughai has been passed directly to our family, Kati," said Ma. "The blood of our ancestors is in all of us, but it is said that Mandughai herself left two sons behind when she returned to Tengri-Nayon. We have come from one of those sons, Kati. The blood of our Empress is in you, too."
Kati yawned. "I will have green eyes when I'm older?"
Ma smiled. "Perhaps you will. Are you sleepy?"
"Not too much. Can I watch the fire with you?"
"For a little while, and then you sleep. Tomorrow is a long and exciting day."
Da took Baber to the tent, and joined them near the bonfire pit. Many people were there, but few of them were children. They sat staring at the flames, and conversation was in whispers. Kati nestled in Ma's lap and Da sat behind, his arms around both of them. It was wonderful. Da pointed out Tengri-Nayon directly above them, the brightest star in the sky, and very red. But very soon Kati's eyelids were heavy, and her head was nodding. Ma lifted her up and took her to the tent.
The inside of the tent was orange in the glow of the fire outside. Ma undressed her and slid her beneath a blanket of wool. She leaned close, and Kati reached up to touch her face and lips. "Your face—the way it was for a while today—it scared me."
Ma smiled, stroked her cheek. "I am Tumatsin, and the Hansui call us changelings because our faces become fierce when we are frightened or very angry. It's just the way we are, Kati. It will be the way you are when you become a woman."
"Were you frightened or angry today?" Kati yawned again, eyelids drooping.
"No. Today was difficult. I had to think of something that made me angry a long time ago, and then hold that thought for hours. It was very tiring, but now it's over, and I can have fun the rest of festival."
Kati felt herself slipping away. "I will ride Sushua," she murmured, "and see the burning cave again, and hear all the things people ask for there."
"The people must be shouting their prayers," said Ma.
Kati's eyes were nearly closed. "No," she said, tapping her own forehead with a finger, "I hear them—here."
In the last instant before sleep, it seemed that Ma had suddenly leaned closer to her.
And that night, she dreamed a recurring dream of a night sky filled with purple stars.
Everyone was up at first light to cook their barley cakes over the embers of the bonfire and drink tea. There was no procession to the festival field, people climbing to it after their chores were finished and stopping only briefly at the burning cave. Kati heard no prayers this time and went straight to Sushua, who recognized and nuzzled her. She fed her grass, and a smuggled barley cake, and then Da lifted her up.
"You can only ride a little while. Today is for the boys and the men to show their riding skills. There will be many games for them."
Kati lived in the moment, first walking, trotting, then galloping Sushua round and around the circle. But it seemed such a short time before Da came to lift her off. She had to take Sushua away from the field to a little pasture beyond the tents, rubbing down her coat with bunches of grass and curry-combing her, and then leaving her there with the other horses.
The rest of the morning she ate bread, and cheese, and five pieces of yijin while the boys showed off on the field. Their hair was braided, and they went shirtless to show their muscles to the older girls who giggled and pointed from the sidelines. There were races: short sprints back and forth, one with many turns among tall poles stuck in the grass, another with the riders actually standing on the backs of their horses. Abaka, from her own ordu, was a fine rider, and made a great impression. Kati saw many girls pointing at him, and whispering among themselves.
After the boys were finished showing off, Kati got to ride Sushua again, then there was more eating and music: lutes and horns, drums and cymbals, a great crash of noise, and people began dancing to it, twirling and kicking, men picking up the nearest woman and spinning madly with her. Da and Ma did it too, Ma's arms around Da's neck as he twirled her round and round, and when they stopped they were kissing.
But after the dancing, things seemed to become more serious.
The men went out to the field with re-curved bows and quivers full of arrows, and shot at man-shaped straw dummies hanging from poles. The boys reappeared and did the same while the men were preparing their mounts, then drummers came to line the field. When the drums began pounding, everyone was suddenly silent, and the men charged onto the field on horseback, circling round and around and firing at the dummies from horseback. After each pass, the dummies bristled with stuck arrows.
Ma disappeared again, and soon Kati saw her mounted with the regalia of the previous day, but her face was normal. Her sword was in a scabbard at her side, and she was smiling. She and the other mounted women drew up in a line, and the men crowded in behind her, horses jostling together in excitement.
The drums pounded harder, and women in the crowd began trilling, a sound that always thrilled Kati. And then Ma drew her sword, pointing down the length of the field, and she uttered a shrill cry that raised the hair at the back of Kati's neck.
The horses leapt forward and charged down the field, Ma's sword outstretched, the men screaming, the women trilling, fanning out at the end of the field, and charging back again. Three times they did this, and each time the noise seemed to get louder, until Kati clapped her hands over her ears. Finally, it was over, the men reassembling in the center of the field, the mounted women unsheathing their swords one last time and saluting the crowd before putting their swords back in their scabbards with a metallic crash in unison.
And then, quite suddenly, everyone was laughing again and there was music. Ma dismounted before their tent, and pulled off the heavy, colorful robe, under which she wore her leathers. Her face glistened with sweat. She unbuckled her sword, handed it to Kati. "Hold this a moment."
The sword, in its scabbard, was heavy, longer than Kati's body. The blade was curved, hilt and pommel in brass. Kati held it as a precious thing, lifted it up to Ma when she asked for it. Ma put it in the tent with the robe. But Kati did not forget the feel of that sword in her hand.
The atmosphere was light again, and the weapons were put away in the tents. Kati rode Sushua for nearly two hours while the adults laid out blankets covered with trading goods from the various ordus and spent a happy afternoon of trading and gossip. It would have been a purely wonderful day except for two things that happened.
The first occurred mid-afternoon, when someone first heard a distant whine and shouted for quiet. The whine grew louder, then a woman pointed east and cried, "Flyer!" Kati was trotting Sushua, and saw the silvery craft coming towards her at low altitude. She ignored it, and kept riding. People were scurrying around, picking up a few remaining bows and arrow quivers, and getting them into the tents. They looked up sullenly as the craft passed overhead, and some shook their fists. Kati watched their faces, and saw anger there. The craft passed over one more time, and again headed east, leaving the crowd muttering. Kati felt the tension of the people around her, and didn't like it. The festival was supposed to be fun, and adults could be so serious, she thought.
But it was the second incident that really bothered her, a confrontation with her mother that left her shocked and bewildered. One minute, Ma was happy and smiling, and the next she was dragging Kati painfully into the tent with her eyes blazing red.
Ma was talking to Manlee and two other women, and Kati was watching an older boy and girl nearby. The girl was smiling shyly, lowering her eyes as the boy leaned close to whisper in her ear. Kati was shocked at a sudden thought, and without thinking, tugged at her mother's leathers. Ma leaned down, and Kati whispered in her ear.
"That boy over there is so excited. He thinks the girl will go to the trees with him, and take off her clothes. Should he be thinking like—"
Ma's fingernails bit into her arm, and the tent was only steps away. Her little legs couldn't move fast enough to keep up, and Ma dragged her part of the way. Baber was in the tent, sound asleep. Ma dropped to her knees before Kati, grasped her arms hard, and her eyes were blazing red.
"How do you know such a thing? Are you making this up?"
Kati was stunned. "I—no, Ma, I could hear him. He likes the girl, and wants her to go with him."
"You could not hear him at that distance. Are you saying this for attention? I've told you about lying, Kati."
"I'm not lying," said Kati. I heard him thinking it, Ma. No, not really heard—" Kati paused, uncertain about her explanation. "I heard it here, Ma, but not words. I just knew what he wanted." She tapped her forehead. "Ma, you're hurting my arm! What's wrong?"
Ma's red eyes were inches from her face, her breath hot in a whisper. "You imagine you can hear a thought, but only a Searcher can do that, and you are not a Searcher. You are Tumatsin! To pry into a mind is an evil thing! To talk about it is even worse! If you imagine you hear a thought you will block it out as a false thing, and say nothing! Do you understand?"
Kati nodded, but her chest ached, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes, for she was now truly frightened.
"I'm not evil, Ma, but I do hear things. I do!"
Ma shook her roughly. "NO! It is your imagination! It was meeting the Searcher on the trail. They are evil people, Kati! You must not want to be like them in any way!"
Kati began to cry. "I'm not bad, Ma!" And then she was sobbing bitterly. "I'm not bad! I'm not!" she wailed.
Ma's eyes suddenly gushed tears. She pulled Kati to her, kissed her cheek, hugged her.
"Oh Kati, I don't want to hurt you! But promise me you will block out these thoughts you have, and never, ever talk about them. People won't understand. They will think you evil, like the Searchers. Please, Kati, do what I say."
"I will, Ma, I will, I promise." Kati sniffled, and put her arms around Ma's neck, and Ma rocked her back and forth silently for a long moment. And then they dried their eyes, and Ma took her outside again.
The festival continued gaily for the rest of the day, but Kati did not want to be near people. She went to the pasture and found Sushua and led her back to the field, where one of the boys helped her get mounted. She rode her horse, alone, round and around the circle until it was time to eat, but still she rode. Da finally came out with two barley cakes for her, thinking she was having too much fun to eat, and very happy she loved his gift so much. He did not say this, yet she heard it. Was hearing Da's nice thoughts also an evil thing?
Out on the field, away from people, there were no thoughts, only the wind in her face and Sushua's warm body beneath her. How could Ma think she would imagine such things and then talk out loud about it? The thoughts only came when people were close, like the Searcher on the trail. He hadn't been surprised—or had he? He'd looked at her curiously. The thoughts just came. How could she stop them?
At dark she had to stop riding. Da let her stay with Sushua in the pasture for a while, because she said she wanted to. The music was loud, and much ayrog was flowing. Away from people her mind was clear. Sushua had no thoughts; she just wanted to eat. Kati rubbed the little horse down while she was filling her belly, and hugged her often before Ma came to get her.
They were near the end of the line going back to camp, and Manlee was again standing by the burning cave, urging the prayers of the people. It made Kati angry that the woman didn't believe her own words. Tengri's Eye was just a fire deep inside a cave, and the old woman didn't believe the ancestors were ever coming back. Still, she looked again at the bright glow inside the maw of the cave, felt its hot breath, and closed her eyes.
The emerald green eyes were suddenly there again, slanted upwards, pupils black as night, and the sight of them seemed calming. The chatter inside her head was suddenly gone, and she felt warmed all over as if an arm had just gone around her shoulders, like when she was with Da. She felt a presence, a connection with something outside herself. Suddenly, she felt protected.
Kati stumbled on the trail, eyes tightly closed. Ma squeezed her hand. Please don't leave me! Kati wanted to say to the eyes. Keep the thoughts away. But she had to open her eyes to avoid falling down, and she saw Ma, whom she loved and tried to obey in all things.
She sat up for only a short time, and went to bed with Baber, the tent's interior brightly lit by the glow of the bonfire raging outside. She closed her eyes tightly, but the image of the green eyes was gone. Exhausted from the day, she quickly fell asleep.
And was awakened much later by a sound of sobbing in the now darkened tent. Soft, and sad, it went on for a long time, from where Ma and Da were sleeping. Someone stirred.
"Toregene, what is the matter?"
A sniffle. "The strain of the day, I suppose. The children are exhausted, and so am I. I'm ready to go home. Temujin, do you love me?"
"Of course I do. You and the children are my life. What a thing to ask!"
"Then hold me, Temujin. Hold me—love me."
From then on the sounds Kati heard were familiar ones, the sounds Ma and Da made as they often pleasured each other in their ger beyond the mountains. Suddenly, Kati wanted to go home, to that place across the mountains, where it would be quiet again.
People slept later the next morning, and some of the men seemed grumpy when they arose. They cooked their cakes over the coals in the great pit by the pool, and then the tents were struck and people were talking and sitting on the mounds of their possessions while the boys went up to the fields to retrieve the horses. Gifts were being exchanged among old and new friends, and Kati was surprised when Edi came up to her and handed her something wrapped in a piece of soft leather.
"I wish we could ride together, but your ordu is so far from the sea," said Edi. "Here is something for you to remember the day we were given our horses, and when we rode together."
Kati unfolded the leather sheet, and saw a pendant made from a single shell that gave off every color in the rainbow. A single hole had been punched in it, and it hung on a leather thong with several smaller shells to either side of it. It was truly beautiful, and Kati said so.
Edi smiled shyly. "I wish we lived closer to each other. I won't see you until next Festival. That's five years." She hesitated. "All the other girls in my ordu are older than me. Or else they're just babies."
Kati was desperate for an idea about what to give in return. Suddenly, she thought of her dagger, and pulled it from her waistband. "Da made this for me, but he won't mind if I give it to a friend. Here, take it."
Edi took the dagger, ran her fingers along the blade. "I'll keep it always," she said, then stepped up to Kati and gave her a hug. "Goodbye." And then she ran away to her family.
Manlee came by to say goodbye to Ma and Da, and to remind them of their prayers. Kati saw Ma looking at her while the woman was talking, and looked away. Ma had hugged her awake in the morning, had braided her hair in silence. There was now a certain wariness about Ma, a tension between them. But this morning there were no thoughts in Kati's head, even with all the people so close, so perhaps it was a passing thing.
Abaka returned with the horses, with Sushua trailing behind. Da bridled her, and put a colorful blanket on her back for the long journey home. In short time the horses were loaded, Kati was mounted on Sushua, and Baber was grinning from his place before Da on Kaidu.
Manlee held up her arms, and there was silence. For many moments they listened to the roar coming from the canyon, and then Manlee shouted, "Now go with the protection of Tengri, and may he bring us all together again in this place five years from now. Have a safe journey!"
She waved an arm, and suddenly water was again cascading from the top of the cliff to splash with force into the pool. The great waterfall had been silent during their stay on the beach, only to suddenly reappear as they were leaving. Kati was again amazed.
Because they had camped close to the pool, Kati and her family were one of the last groups to reach the plateau. Kati looked for Edi, but never found her. Five years was a very long time. She would nearly be a woman before she saw Edi again. When they reached the plateau, she saw long lines of horses stretched along the trails headed towards the western sea, and wished she were going with them where it was always warm. But they turned east, and soon they were alone, headed towards their isolated ordu beyond the mountains to keep watch on the emperor.
Sushua trotted easily along with the others, but Ma made her stay near the rear of the column. Sushua seemed content with this, but Kati quickly became bored with the pace. When a flyer came over them at mid-day, she waved to it. When it made a second pass, at low level, she waved again, until Ma glared at her.
"Do not call attention to us," warned Ma.
Kati pouted. Ma was too serious about everything. Besides, she was sure one of the men in the flyer had waved back to her. What was the harm?
They camped that night in the place by the pass between the two fingers of rock, and it was cold again. The other ordus were warm by the sea, and here she was again, back in the mountains and the cold. She fought for breath again before falling into a restless sleep that ended too soon.
They came down from the line of peaks above their ordu in mid-afternoon of the following day, and the column suddenly stopped. Kuchlug came back to get Ma, and she went forward to the head of the line. When she came back, her eyes were tinged red. "Mounted troops of the Emperor are near our ordu," she said to Kati. "We will wait until they are gone."
As they descended the final slope towards home, Kati looked north and saw a line of mounted people with the light of Tengri-Khan sparkling on their clothing until they disappeared beyond a thumb of rock. The column suddenly picked up speed, and Kati had a chance to gallop Sushua just as they were nearing the ordu. Adults leaped from their horses, rushed inside their gerts. As Kati pulled up with Ma before their ger, Da came out and said, "Everything has been searched, but they haven't disturbed anything I can see. Kuchlug, give me a hand here!"
Da and Kuchlug went inside the ger as Ma helped Kati dismount. She tethered Sushua to a post, and went inside. Da and Kuchlug had moved the stove aside and were pulling up boards beneath it. A leather-wrapped bundle was in a hole beneath the boards. It was the weapon Da kept hidden there. "Still here," said Da, "but we have to find a safer place to store these, away from the ordu. Tell the other men."
Kuchlug left after helping Da reposition the stove. Ma went to Da, hugged him. "This is not a good welcome," said Da. "We no longer have rights in the eyes of the Emperor. It is not safe here, Toregene. Maybe you should take the children and—"
"Our place is with you," said Ma. "This is our home."
Her head on Da's chest, arms around him, Ma's eyes met Kati's.
A test of your imagination, my daughter. A Searcher will come, and when he does you must think of the blackness of a night sky. And if you listen to his thoughts, your face must betray no emotion at what you hear. You will show him you are only a little girl. Do you hear me, Kati?
Kati nodded her head slowly. Not blackness, Ma. I will think of the green eyes that take all the thoughts away from me.
Ma's hands clutched at Da's back, and her eyes turned bright red.
Kati suddenly felt a horrible fear, and knew it was not her own.
The fear was coming from Ma.