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the size of horses, but built like no horse she had ever seen. Their hind legs were massive, while their forelegs were small, with dainty appendages. As Kevla watched, one reached up toward a tree that hung over into the pen, plucked a fruit from it, and, for all the world like a human, held the food in its forepaws and nibbled at it. A huge, fluffy tail served to shade it completely. Large ears swiveled back and forth as the creature fed.
    â€œThey are sa’abahs, ” said Tahmu. “I am not surprised that you have never seen one. Even I have only four of them. The Sa’abah Clan demands a high price for them, and only then if they are in the mood for conducting a trade. Most often—” and there was a hint of disappointment in the khashim’s rich voice “—they are eager to fight. It seems they value a horde of five-scores more than food for their people.”
    â€œSa’abahs,” breathed Kevla, her rapt gaze still on the creatures. “I have heard of them. They can cross the desert on a cupful of water. They can eat anything. Their feet are so broad they can walk across sand without sinking. They—”
    â€œEnough,” chuckled Tahmu. “It is true, they need little water to traverse the desert, but they certainly need more than a cupful. Rare and worth their weight in water indeed they are, but they are beasts, nonetheless, not magical creatures.”
    â€œIf the great khashim says so, then so it must be,” replied Kevla, doubt creeping into her voice, “but my eyes tell me otherwise.”
    Tahmu laughed aloud at that, then sobered. “Kevla, turn and look at me.”
    The girl obeyed. Tahmu’s face was serious.
    â€œYou are wise for your age, so I think you will understand. No one must know that your mother was a—did what she did. To all who ask, you must reply that you are a poor orphan I found in the streets of the marketplace.”
    Kevla frowned. “But great khashim, I have skills that a lady would value. I know how to dress hair, to apply henna. How will I explain knowing these things?”
    Tahmu thought for a moment. “A good point. We will—you will say your mother was a dancer. Not a highly regarded profession, but better than a halaan. ”
    Kevla considered this. “But even a dancer has a name.”
    His eyes were compassionate as he spoke the words that dashed her hopes. “Then you must still be Bai-sha. I am sorry for that; I would have spared you shame where I could. But the story of a dancer is closer to the truth, and a lie that has a seed of truth in it is easier to tell.”
    He placed his finger under her chin and tilted her face up. “It is better to be Bai-sha in the House of Four Waters than Bai-sha on a dusty corner, is it not?”
    Kevla thought of her mother’s last words to her, of the coolness with which she had sold her only daughter. An ache welled up in her heart, threatening to spill out as tears.
    She blinked them back. That life was over.
    â€œWhat you say is true, khashim, ” Kevla said.
    â€œNow. The sun is hot, and I am thirsty. I am not a sa’abah, and I need more than a cupful of water a day. And you do, too. Enough gawking. Hang on tightly to Swift’s mane, Kevla, for I am impatient to be home and in the shade!”
    Kevla turned around and obeyed the instructions, lacing her fingers in the silky softness. With a sudden thrill of excitement that banished the lingering shame of Bai-sha and mitigated the pain of parting from her mother, she felt the beast gather itself.
    â€œHua, hua!” cried Tahmu, striking Swift-Over-Sand on the rump with his hand.
    Swift-Over-Sand proved to be Swift-Over-Rocky-Path as well. Kevla couldn’t suppress a squeal of delight as the animal surged forward. Swift lowered his head as his body stretched out and found its stride, shaking his head and gnawing the bit, his gold-tipped tusks catching the