“Calm down, Fist said. “Do as we say, and you wont be hurt.

They heaved her to her feet, and the man on her right turned her toward him. His face was wide and weathered by the sun, with lines at the corners of his mouth. His breath smelled of onions and whiskey. Grasping her around the waist, he hefted her up, over his shoulder, so her legs hung down his front and her torso against his back. Her bound wrists fell painfully downward, away from her spine, and she groaned. Someone looped a rope through the bonds and tied it around her waist to hold her arms against her body. The man holding her carried her through the trees, also bringing her horse. It all felt unreal, a nightmare that was happening to someone else.

Within moments, they reached a wagon with rigid sides and a cloth top dyed in green and black triangles. Gold tassels hung from the corners of its roof, swaying in the breeze.

Hanging over the nomads shoulder, she could barely see as they pulled aside a flap at the back. Inside, the wagon was filled with crates, chests and rolled-up rugs tied with tasseled ropes. When they laid her among the carpets as if she were just another rug, she lost what little calm she had left and struggled frantically with her bonds.

“Shes going to cut her skin if she keeps doing that, one of the nomads said.

Stubble took a small bottle and a cloth out of a pocket in his shirt. When he opened the bottle, the pungent odor of suffocating-salts wafted into the air. As he poured liquid onto the cloth, the smell intensified.

“No, dont! Allegras cry came out as a grunt.

Stubble leaned over, one hand braced behind her head, and pressed the wet cloth against her nose. She couldnt breathe. She gasped, and the repulsive smell of the salts saturated her. Panicked, she fought to pull away, but someone held her in place. The smell intensified until she truly was suffocating. Darkness closed in and she knew no more.