Fevered Star (Between Earth and Sky, #2)(27)

“I don’t know what happened,” she said aloud. “Perhaps I’m still exhausted.”

Denaochi made a noise in his throat, part blame and part skepticism. “I told you to wait for me.”

“I know. I… I couldn’t sleep, and I thought Zataya could help. But I’m better now.” She rallied and gave him a wan smile. The black-and-white bottle still sat on the table, and she held it up for Denaochi to see.

The suspicion in his eyes softened.

“Well, it is good Zataya brought me to you. There is something else we must discuss.” He laid a folded sheet of paper on the table between them, marked with three sinuous plant leaves. “I sent a message to a friend after we parted last. Another boss, the owner of the Agave House. She sent a reply.”

“A reply to what?”

“We need them, Nara, if we mean to go up against Carrion Crow.”

She had thought to prepare herself should the Crow God Reborn seek her out, but she had not thought to attack Carrion Crow. She had no quarrel with the clan itself, especially that young Shield captain. This was Denaochi scheming, and she did not fully trust it.

Was that why Zataya thought to keep Naranpa’s potential powers a secret from her brother for now? Did Zataya know Denaochi would hope to use them, to use her, to dangerous ends?

“It’s civil war, whether you wish to see it or not,” he said, no doubt noting her skepticism. “Carrion Crow is massing an army in Odo, and there is talk that the Sky Made will be made to follow or else. We will give them another option.”

“The other Sky Made might want to distance themselves from Carrion Crow after what has happened, but that does not explain why the bosses of the Maw would wish to rally to me. There is no love lost between the Watchers and—” She almost said your people before she caught herself.

“The Watchers are dead, and you are a survivor. The Maw loves nothing more than a survivor. And you are a daughter of the Coyote, lest you forget.” His smile was only a baring of teeth, enough to let her know he had heard her unspoken thought. “You are both coyote and sun. You will be a powerful symbol, especially after you kill the Crow God Reborn.”

“As if it will be that simple.”

Denaochi’s voice took on a dangerous edge. “It must be that simple, because that is what I have promised the other bosses.”

So that was it. He wanted to use her to solidify his own power in the Maw. His hated sister returned home and dependent on him. Enough like a Sky Made to bestow the respect and authority of her former position upon her chosen allies, but Maw-born enough to be accepted as one of them.

“If you mean for me to be merely a symbol, who would lead the Maw?” Her voice was cool, the answer already obvious.

Denaochi leaned back, his grin bright but his eyes as cold as her own. “Ah, Nara, don’t be like that. If you survive your encounter with the Crow God Reborn, we will share leadership.”

And if I don’t? she thought. Then all that consolidated power will still be yours, and the Crow God Reborn even more feared.

“I know I make an unconventional matron,” he continued, grin widening, “but fuck tradition, right, Sister? The Sky Made will accept us because it’s our side or that murderous crow god, and we know they’ll never bow to that. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. First we must prove ourselves to the other bosses.”

“And how will we do that? Another trial?” She thought of her crawl and how Denaochi had done it before her. She rubbed at the warm place on her chest, the strange power there now an unexpected comfort.

He tapped the folded paper on the table and then held it up between them.

“We shall find out soon enough.”





CHAPTER 9


CITY OF TOVA

YEAR 1 OF THE CROW

Only a fool builds her home on a turtle’s back and complains when it swims away.

—Teek saying



Xiala passed through Titidi in silence, Aishe’s uncle a step ahead of her. She was bundled in her new cloak. It was warmer than her previous cloak had been, and ingenious ties at the wrist and neck kept the cold out better. She missed her old harbormaster’s cloak for the nostalgia of it but was grateful for Aishe’s parting gift. It was more generous than she felt she deserved.

“Keep close,” Uncle Kuy warned, pulling her attention to him. “We’re nearing the bridge.”

The bridge. The bridge where she had Sung and so many had died.

For a moment, she could not make her feet move. The woman in blue, the green-eyed man.

“I did my best, didn’t I?” she whispered to herself. “The mob was rioting. I had to try.”

A voice came sharp in her memory. All you ever do is try, Xiala. Try and fail, and then run from the consequences. You leave others to clean up your messes. Well, this time, there is no one else. This time, you pay for what you’ve done.

She shuddered under the weight of the recollection and the truth of it. The deaths on the bridge were now part of her burden, just like that first death on Teek so long ago, and she had to live with that blood on her hands.

“Fuck,” she muttered. She should have made Aishe find Zash and his balché. Nothing good came from allowing her mind to wallow in self-recrimination. She wanted, no, needed something to turn off the memories and help her forget. But there was nothing here but cold wind and an unfamiliar city.