At noon the next day, Loa encountered people.
Not a camp glimpsed from afar, but a troop of cavalry he met face-to-face.
There were about thirty or forty of them, all riding chestnut horses, with bows and curved swords hanging from their saddles. Their leader was a middle-aged man with a sun-darkened face and a scar across his forehead, running from the tip of his left eyebrow to the corner of his right eye and splitting his eyebrows in two. He wore a filthy leather robe with a fur collar, and a gem-studded curved sword hung at his waist. The scabbard was lavish, but the leather cord on the hilt had been worn glossy, clearly from years of use.
The leader looked Loa up and down, his gaze lingering briefly on Hidden Abyss at his waist, then much longer on Wuzhui.
"Fine horse," he said. His accent was heavy, but understandable.
"Don't be afraid," the man said. "We don't rob people. Are you from Luo Ao?"
"The Yulan Empire," Loa said.
The man thought for a moment.
"That really is far." The man nodded and pointed east. "Another two days ahead, and you'll reach the Canglang Tribe's territory. You're an unfamiliar face, so don't go wandering in. Go to their market. You can trade there and ask for news."
"Thank you."
The man glanced at Wuzhui again, hesitated, then pulled a bone from inside his robe-not a bone for eating, but one that had been ground flat and inscribed, about the size of a palm, with smoothly polished edges.
"Take this." He tossed it to Loa. "The Canglang Tribe won't give you trouble when they see it."
Loa caught it and looked down. Several twisting symbols were carved into the bone. He recognized none of them.
"What is this?"
"My