My worries about the relative potency of my Talent in the desert had turned out to be unfounded. So long as we stuck to traveling at night—and we did, for the sake of our good health and sanity—I was as spry as a country girl and as fit as a good musician’s fiddle. The dune sands made for the most wonderful backdrop I could have asked for—all potential, lively smells burned clean out of the landscape by the midday sun. There was nothing to distract me from my prey—a group of men who stank at once of blood and dragonmetal. It was wondrous, and better than if I’d planned it myself. I would doubtless be home in no time with the Esar’s gratitude jingling in my pockets, yet I found myself somewhat unsatisfied. If I were to be perfectly honest—as I could only be with myself—I had to admit I was missing the ecstasy of the hunt as I’d felt it when I was still in the mountains. Chasing the man whose skills so matched my own had left me nearly breathless with delight, my head spinning from the rush of blood, combined with a lack of food or sleep.
