Black Sun (Between Earth and Sky, #1)(40)



He was chatting with Nuuma, the matron of Golden Eagle. Naranpa watched as Eche said something that made Nuuma laugh and touch a hand lightly to his arm. Needless to say, Nuuma had never touched her with that kind of familiarity. And why would she? They weren’t friends, Naranpa had never said anything particularly witty to her, and she wasn’t even Sky Made.

It occurred to her that Eche came from the Golden Eagle clan, and Nuuma, now well into her forties, had probably known him since he was born. Watched him grow into a fine young man and join the priesthood to rise to his rightful stature. Skies, she was probably proud of him.

And now that she thought of it, Abah was Golden Eagle–born, too. No wonder they wanted her out. She didn’t belong the way they did. For all she knew, they were all related.

“Feeling better?” asked a voice from behind her.

She turned to find Ieyoue, matron of Water Strider, behind her. Ieyoue had traded her clan blues for a long dress of mourning white, and around her shoulders hung a black-and-white skunk-fur short cloak. It was a touch flamboyant, like the woman herself. Around her wrist she wore a red ribbon, a sign of respect for Carrion Crow’s loss. It was a well-orchestrated ensemble. Respectful but not conservative. Sad but not needlessly so. Naranpa had always found her to be the shrewdest of the matrons.

“I am, thank you,” she said quickly. She glanced over her shoulder to see Eche still talking to Nuuma Golden Eagle. “What did Eche tell you?” She hoped her inquiry sounded innocent enough.

“That the strain of the day had caught up with you and that you had asked him to take your place. I thought it strange, since you were the one who had sent the invitations to begin with, but then he told us of the assassination attempt on Sun Rock. Skies, it must have been terrible.” She said it all well enough, the right touch of concern, a hint of true outrage. But Naranpa could see her brown eyes were eager, searching her face for some sign of conflict or subterfuge.

Ieyoue could make an admirable ally or a dangerous foe. Unfortunately, she didn’t know the woman well enough to know which, and she was entirely out of trust.

“It was terrible,” she agreed, putting some of the fright of the moment into her voice. “But the Knives handled it. He never got close,” she lied. Did you send him? she wondered suddenly. If not, do you know who did?

“Well, I for one am glad to hear you are well, Naranpa. Eche did an admirable job paying Yatliza proper respects. I think the funeral he and Haisan planned will be appreciated by all. But…” She hesitated, leaning in. “He is quite young.”

“Barely twenty-five,” she agreed.

“He will make a fine Sun Priest one day,” Ieyoue continued. “But today is not that day.” The Water Strider matron widened her eyes meaningfully. “I hope I haven’t offended you. I know he is your chosen successor, after all.”

“Not yet,” Naranpa corrected. “There are other dedicants who may be a better choice. One day.”

Ieyoue made a show of thinking about it.

“Well, you would know who best serves the Watchers.” She looked pointedly at the two behind Naranpa. “Seems that it may be difficult to tell the difference between yellow and gold for some, and those of us who are neither would prefer to keep the colors separate. Such a clash can ruin one’s entire ensemble. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Naranpa could have kissed her, but instead she only allowed her lips to curve in a small smile. “I find a splash of blue or green can do wonders.”

“Or perhaps one need not use color at all.”

“There truly are so many options.”

Ieyoue nodded sagely. “I had only stepped out to pay my respects to Haisan. He’s in the archives working on what will certainly be a very long speech extolling Yatliza’s merits.” She gestured back to the terrace. “Did you mean to come in?”

“No,” Naranpa said, making a spur-of-the-moment decision. She realized now that the matrons already knew that Eche had usurped her, and Water Strider, at least, did not approve. She was equally sure that Nuuma was thrilled, and she would work out the balance with Winged Serpent and Carrion Crow another day. For now, this was enough.

“Give my regards to the other matrons, if Eche has not already. And I will see you at the funeral.”

“Of course,” Ieyoue said. “I am glad we had this chance to talk. It was, as always, illuminating.”

They exchanged polite bows and Ieyoue went back to the terrace while Naranpa went the other way. Only when she was halfway down the hall on her way back to her rooms did she realize Ieyoue had made a joke.





CHAPTER 15




OUTSIDE THE CITY OF HOKAIA

YEAR 325 OF THE SUN

(16 DAYS BEFORE CONVERGENCE)

Lose one child to war and receive four generations of peace.

—Words inscribed over the war college at Hokaia



The news of his mother’s death came to Okoa on the back of a great crow. He was in the war college training field just west of the aviary, the spread of the larger campus laid out behind him, when he spied the corvid’s approach, its black wings catching the afternoon sunlight. He always marveled at these creatures his clan claimed as their namesake. Its wings seemed not enough to support its weight, never mind the rider on its back. But Okoa knew from his own experience that their patron crows could do just that and travel the miles east from Tova to the flat green grasslands of Hokaia in a fraction of the time it took to cross the same distance on boat or foot.

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