She walked towards the distant caravan, carefully stepping around any seated Uri’el in her path. There were a lot of them clutching dead Firaithi men and women and Katkin wondered if there had been some kind of battle between the Kindreds here some time in the past. Once she reached the end of the line, she gap-shifted back into the living world. This time the dogs were silent, no doubt because Fyn had so commanded them. She waited in the shadow of the caravan, until several hobbled horses nearby snorted and reared. The dogs exploded into a torrent of barks, and she could hear excited shouts from the caravans in her vicinity. Doors flew open and men emerged, pulling on shirts and trousers as they ran to see what had disturbed the horses.
Once the occupant of the caravan holding Poppy and
