Fevered Star (Between Earth and Sky, #2)(33)

The crows dutifully took to the wing, filing out as if dismissed. If Okoa had not seen him talk to the crows at the monastery, he would have been in awe, but he realized he was beginning to take the man’s strange way with corvids in stride.

“Why are you here?” Okoa blurted.

The Odo Sedoh’s lips quirked up, the barest suggestion of a smile. “Why do you think? I did not bring myself here, crow son.”

Of course he didn’t. It had been Esa. But why? What was she thinking?

Okoa knew exactly what she had been thinking, and his gut told him this cell had originally been prepared for him.

A commotion at the door, and Maaka was back, with Feyou and another Odohaa whose name he did not know. The man carried a large bundle in his arms, something wrapped in a woven blanket. Behind them trailed two Shields.

“He’s hurt!” Maaka pointed to the Odo Sedoh, and Feyou pushed her way forward. She stopped short, gaze bouncing between Maaka and the Odo Sedoh, as if unsure what to do.

“We’ve brought a healer,” Okoa explained. “A true healer. She would like to examine your wound, if you will allow it.”

“Ah.” He removed his hand from his side. It was wet with the same reddish-gold ichor as before. “I would be grateful.”

That seemed to release Feyou, and she took the Odo Sedoh in hand. Once he was seated back on the bed, she examined his wound, her earlier hesitation gone as she got about her business.

“What happened?” she asked, voice direct.

“It is a wound from before. It troubles me.”

“Before?”

“Sun Rock,” Okoa supplied. “I could not heal it.”

He heard the other Odohaa, the one still holding the bundle, gasp. He looked back to see that the man had closed his eyes and begun to mutter a prayer.

“Sun Rock.” Feyou sounded awed. “From a Watcher?”

Serapio winced as her fingers probed. “I cannot remember.”

“So it is days old and still festers. And you did not think to mention it as soon as you arrived, Okoa?”

He flushed. How was it that Feyou made him feel the recalcitrant child? “I mention it now.”

“It was carelessly done.”

“I meant no harm. The bleeding had stopped before, and I had forgotten about it for the moment. I would have brought him to a healer eventually.”

“Eventually.” Feyou was unimpressed, and Okoa realized he was making his case worse with every attempt at explanation. “Maaka, hand me my medicine kit, and then leave me to work, all of you. This room is too small for all these bodies and all this useless conversation.”

Maaka did as his wife commanded and then stepped outside, dragging the other Odohaa with him.

Okoa hesitated. “He is important, Feyou. It is not that I do not trust you— ”

“With respect, my lord, I do not think you are in a position to decide who to trust and not to trust with the best interests of the Odo Sedoh.”

Her reprimand hit its mark, and he said no more. Damn you, Esa, he thought again. You make us look duplicitous.

“Watch them,” he told the Shield as he passed. “And aid her in any way she needs. We want the Odo Sedoh hale.” He said that last loudly enough for all to hear.

He touched Maaka’s shoulder, motioning for the man to follow him, and he led Maaka down the hall away from the others. Once they were well alone, he said, “I would ask that you not tell anyone what you’ve seen here.”

“And what have I seen, Lord?” His deep voice rose, indignant. “The Odo Sedoh locked in a cell like a criminal? Stabbed and left to die?”

“He was not stabbed.”

“You saw the wound on his side.”

“He wasn’t stabbed today, I mean. Esa did not do that.”

Maaka folded his arms over his barrel chest. “What did she do?”

Irritation and exhaustion flared, and he leaned in, his voice a harsh whisper. “Do not be so familiar with me. I am still your lord, and she is still your matron.” The rebuke felt sour on his tongue, but he had to make the man understand.

Maaka stiffened. He bowed, low and mocking. “My apologies, my Lord Okoa Carrion Crow.” When he looked up again, his face was closed, expression flat and unreadable.

Okoa clenched his jaw. Skies, he was stubborn and quick to offense. Just like you, he thought, but pushed that away.

“Give me time, Maaka. Before you tell the Odohaa. Before you…” What would he do? Go to the Carrion Crow council of aunties and demand Esa explain herself? Maaka had enough respect among the aunties that they would listen to him. But it would be a disaster. He could see the clan fracturing into factions before his eyes.

Maaka was unyielding. “You must understand that while I respect you for your father’s sake, the Odohaa answer to a higher cause, and that cause is the restoration of Carrion Crow.”

Okoa caught his breath. His father? No one spoke of his father. It was verboten. He wanted to say more, but Maaka was still talking.

“We are a people with hope once again, and the Odo Sedoh has brought us that.” He thrust his chin back toward the cell. “Not you. Not your matron.”

“And if you had to choose?” He knew he shouldn’t ask it, but it was the same question with which he struggled and had no answer.