“And if you think I don’t know what you did to—”

He broke off when he heard the sound of pony hooves in the distance. Saraal heard them, too. In fact, she’d heard them before Kuluun did.

Interesting.

The humans were in camp that night. They’d taken a village during the day, and they were enjoying the spoils that night. Cooking fires roasted fat spits of meat. Sida laughed and women cried. No one should be approaching the warriors’ camp that night. No one should have been coming that fast. No one—

Kuluun muttered a curse and stood. There were cries of surprise. Then cries of pain. Kuluun left the tent in a blur.

Saraal curled into herself and stared into the shadows. Aday came to rest beside her, stroking her back.

“Not long now.” She stroked Saraal’s messy cap of hair. “Soon, you’ll be strong enough to kill him.”

Saraal said nothing. Her mouth was swollen, but already healing. She felt two teeth come loose as the new ones grew in behind them. She’d lost so many teeth over the years from the brothers’ fists, she was surprised her body still produced them. Luckily, her fangs were rooted. She’d still be able to feed.

The sounds outside the tent were chaotic for a few minutes—ponies snorting, humans crying, grunts and the metallic clang of weapons. Then, it died down and there was silence.

“What is happening?” Saraal quietly asked.

“I don’t know.”

“That sounded like fighting.”

“It was. You should get up,” Aday said. “Leave.”

“I… I’m sore. I’ll just wait a few moments.”

“Leave, Saraal.”

Aday’s voice was growing panicked, but Saraal’s eyelids were starting to droop.

“In a minute. Promise…”

It happened occasionally. If she bled too much, her body would shut down and repair itself in sleep. She always woke the next day with barely a bruise, no matter how violent the beating. She could feel her tongue grow thick, her eyelids droop.

“Leave! Leave now!”

“Can’t. Can’t…” She remembered a rhyme her mother taught her. It was a playful song she was supposed to sing when she was hurt. To distract herself from the pain. So much pain…

“Saraal, you must get up. Wake up. Run now!”

She was drifting. She should get back to her tent. Back to safety…

“RUN!”

Why was Aday so loud?

Saraal gasped awake when someone grabbed her neck and pulled her up. Her eyes flew open at the clash of scents.

“What is this?” There was a commotion outside the tent, then the whole low structure was torn away and Saraal was tossed in the air.

Aday was screaming and flying in circles over her head. The creature was enraged.

“No! No no no no no!”

Saraal could do nothing, bloody and broken, she hadn’t had time to heal. Hadn’t had time to plan. She landed in a pair of burly arms. Who held her? She had no idea, though there was something oddly familiar about his scent.

“What is this creature?”

“We found her in your brother’s tent. She was talking to herself.”

“Why would a human…” There was a long pause, then whoever held her yanked her back by the hair. He cursed. “I thought it was a boy. She didn’t used to look like this.”

“What should we do with her, Temur?”

Silence. Saraal forced her eyes open, only to find herself looking into a pair of black eyes. Demon eyes. They flared red with fire.

But no…

No, it was only a reflection of the fire burning through the camp. She could smell the smoke. She blinked and her eyes cleared. The dark eyes still stared.

“She’s one of us. Sida.”

“A female?”

The man grunted. “Kuluun said he wanted a wife, as he’d had when he was human. A mate who would be like him.”

Saraal started to laugh. High, hysterical laughter burst from her bloody lips. Her belly shook with it. The pain tore through her, but she couldn’t stop laughing. The men kept talking over her laughter.

“What have they done to her?”

“A better question might be, what haven’t they done?”

One of them threw her over a shoulder and started walking. Saraal kept laughing as Aday flew behind, hovering and scowling at the two men as they talked.

“She’s mad.”

“Clearly.”

“Should we just kill her now? It would probably be a mercy.”

“No. She’s a child of Jun.”

“Directly sired?” Saraal stopped laughing at the surprise in the man’s voice. Was it so unusual for Jun to sire children?

“Yes. My father turned her himself.”

The other man let out what sounded like a curse, but in a language Saraal didn’t recognize.

“I know,” the man carrying Saraal said. “Kuluun has always been stupid.”

“What a waste.”

“Well…” The two men stopped at a tent. Saraal could see it through one swollen eye, which was also aching, trying to heal. The tent wasn’t like others she knew. It was round, stretched skins wrapped tightly around stakes driven into the ground. It was so tall that a man could walk upright under it. The roof was rapidly taking shape as humans bustled around, setting up camp in a familiar rhythm. The roof was made of more skins and blankets. Richly woven and heavy, they would keep out even the smallest sliver of light. The tent flap was thrown open and a human woman stepped out.