Fevered Star (Between Earth and Sky, #2)(103)

Pech wrenched her arm, pulling her from Iktan. “A criminal!”

“You are mistaken,” Iktan said. “She is a member of Golden Eagle’s diplomatic envoy.”

“How could she be Golden Eagle when she’s clearly Teek?” That was the woman with the white eyebrows on the far side of the table next to Lord Balam. Balam leaned over and whispered in her ear.

Pech wrenched Xiala’s arm again, and she felt her shoulder pop. Pain lanced through her side, clearing some of her confusion. “Let me go!” she growled, but the man dug his fingers deeper into her flesh.

She heard a laugh, cold and unsympathetic. Stupid girl. Once again, you have made a mess of things. What will you do about it?

And the dam inside her burst. She forgot about the bridge in Tova and the woman in blue and the green-eyed man. She waded willingly into the bloody sea. And she reached for her Song, recognizing it as an inheritance from her true Mother, a blade to wield as she must. No shame, no guilt. A gift for her use. And she used it now.

A single note, obsidian-sharp, burst from her lips.

Time stopped…

… and the room around her shattered.

Clay water pitchers cracked and flooded the feast table.

Men dropped to their knees, clutching their heads.

She saw the Cuecolan with the white eyebrows shout something, her lips moving, and the air around her and Balam shimmered. The spearmaiden in the antler crown yelled for her guards, terrified, but the woman in the shells only laughed.

As the note faded and time came rushing back, Xiala realized Pech no longer held her. She looked down at her feet. He lay dead, blood streaming from his nose and mouth, eyes open and staring. Horrified, she turned to Iktan. Xe had been on her other side.

Xe was bent over, blood trickling from xir nose. Xe straightened, wiping at the mess with xir hand, and a smile spread across xir mouth.

“Neither man nor woman,” xe murmured, eyes shining in amusement. “But that was still unpleasant.”

She sobbed in relief.

And then she was surrounded by spearmaidens. Rough hands forced a gag into her mouth, and the antlered queen stood before her, knife at her throat.

“Assassin!” she shouted. “Who sent you?”

“She’s no assassin,” the white-shell woman said. She stepped forward now, pressing a hand to Naasut’s arm until she lowered her blade.

“Then who is she, Mahina?”

The Teek queen’s laugh was thin. “My daughter.”





CHAPTER 31


CITY OF HOKAIA YEAR 1 OF THE CROW

Rejoice! You go to battle now! A place of claw and tooth where there is no room for mercy.

—From the Oration of the Jaguar Prince on the Eve of the Frenzy



Balam walked the hall of the Mole Palace with Powageh by his side. “And then the Knife says, ‘I thought you killed your mother.’ And the girl replies, ‘So did I.’?”

“Seven hells,” Powageh exclaimed. “And then what?”

“Well, they had to arrest her. Pech was dead, after all, and we all saw that she did it. But he did pull her shoulder from the socket, and she is the Teek queen’s daughter. Mahina claims it was self-defense, so Naasut is treading very carefully. I think she’d prefer if it all simply went away.”

“And the other Cuecolan lords?” Powageh asked as they stepped out onto the open grounds that surrounded the palace. “Are they demanding justice for Pech?”

“I think we all know Pech was not particularly well liked. Sinik seems the only one who might protest. Tuun certainly won’t, particularly if the Teek are willing to offer restitution. In fact, I think she sees the opportunity in the Teek owing us a debt.”

Powageh grimaced. “Not what we planned for.”

“No,” Balam admitted. “But chaos can only benefit us. Speaking of benefits, did you procure the thing I needed?”

“Do I ever fail you, Cousin?”

“Surprisingly, no.”

“There’s a thriving underground market here. All kinds of strange items claimed to be from the Graveyard of the Gods. But these I am assured are the true thing.” He handed Balam a small fabric bag, dark rich dirt clinging to its slightly damp sides. “Godflesh. Not a great quantity, but it was all that was available.”

“Ah.” Balam quickly palmed the bag and secreted it away in an inner pocket of his cloak. “You’ll have to watch my door tonight, Cousin. You’re the only one I trust, and there’s work to do.”

“Naasut?”

“For one. And there’s the matter of the spy in the cells below. He can’t speak anymore, but I’d not leave him in such misery for his faithful work. And I’d like to get a look into Nuuma Golden Eagle’s dreams. She’s hiding something, that’s clear, and I don’t think I can wait for Layat’s arrival to know what it is.”

“Is there enough for that?”

His cousin’s concerns about the godflesh were well taken. “I’ll need more soon. It is a finite resource we must use sparingly, but our circumstances warrant the risk.”

“As are you, a finite resource. I fear you are careless.”

“You worry about the madness.” He dared not mention the ever-growing blur between reality and his memory. Even now, he caught glimpses of burning corpses out of the corner of his eye. Images from the war, he was sure. “I am fine.”