Fevered Star (Between Earth and Sky, #2)(37)

“And now he has a taste of slaughter.”

“Let us hope he has not taken to it.”

“The man I met also possessed a certain charming innocence, as religious fanatics often do, and some of the beauty and charisma of his mother. If he prevails over the Sun Priest, he may indeed be able to raise an army.”

“And the draw of family, of Carrion Crow, will be strong. We kept all that from him. It seemed the right course of action then, but now…”

“Carrion Crow will use him to defend their city. We do have one recourse. I’ve been searching for him in the dreamworld, but with no luck. If he exists on the human plane, he does not dream, or the crow god shields him. It shouldn’t be possible, but then again, I am not a master of the magic yet.”

“What will you do if you find him?”

“For now, only observe. Plant the idea of failure, perhaps. I only wanted you to know that whether it be through dreams or other means, he must go. And if I fail, you may be the only one able to get close enough to him to…” He trailed off delicately.

Now Powageh looked xir years. “What you ask of me…”

“I would not unless there are no other options left to us. But you should prepare yourself, prepare your gentle heart, Cousin.”

“Don’t mock me, Balam. I was once a Knife of the tower.”

“I do not mock you. I only know what losing Saaya did to you.”

“Losing her twice,” xe corrected softly. “First to you and then to death. And yet you would ask this of me, to kill her only child?”

Balam was tired, and already the dream work beckoned him back. “Perhaps it will not come to that.” He waved a hand. “Go. Send messages to Hokaia and Teek. I meet with the Seven Lords in the morning. We set our feet upon this path long ago, and we will see it through. No matter the cost.”





CHAPTER 12


CITY OF TOVA (DISTRICT OF ODO)

YEAR 1 OF THE CROW

Don’t sink your ship just to prove you can swim.

—Teek saying



Xiala listened as the Carrion Crow and Winged Serpent talked, idle words that were mostly gossip or worry about the weather and the price of corn to come in the wake of the never-ending twilight. Every so often, the mother and daughter, Haalan and Fress, would theorize on the nature of the Odo Sedoh and what the matron and her captain and the rest of the residents of the Great House must be doing just inside the walls in the distance. Xiala found their chatter more stressful than enlightening. Uncle Kuy would give her occasional looks of sympathy, but neither of them offered up any personal information about Serapio. They understood implicitly that what they knew was both valuable and dangerous, as secret information often was. And it was secret, wasn’t it? Because the things Haalan and Fress said could have been said about anyone; there was nothing there of the Serapio she knew.

Iktan seemed mostly content to listen, only occasionally offering up commentary, and often xir words were sharp, the edge of a well-honed knife, or amusing enough to send the group into fits of laughter. She was still wary of Iktan but decided xir earlier behavior was motivated by curiosity, not malice, and she couldn’t blame xir for wondering about the woman who claimed to be Water Strider but clearly was not. She would be suspicious of herself, too, had their positions been reversed. The times made for strange confederates.

The hours wore on, and the natural course of their conversation diminished. With no word on the return of the leaders of the Odohaa or the matron and the Great House, the camp settled into sleep.

“I’ll find more wood for the fire,” Uncle Kuy offered over a yawn. He stood, scratching at his back, and then wandered off toward the center of camp.

“Should someone sit watch?” Iktan asked softly.

“What for?” Haalan sounded alarmed. “There’s Shield nearby, and no one dare attack us here. I say we’re in the safest place there is in the whole city.”

“I think xe means for thieves and such, Mother,” Fress said. “Although I think we are all among friends here.”

“Common cause does not keep people honest, much as we’d like to believe so.” Iktan did not look at Xiala, but she felt xir words were meant for her.

“I’ll take first watch,” Xiala offered, and not simply out of spite. There were many strangers here, and while the fear that seemed to coil around the rest of the city felt muted in Odo, it was replaced by another kind of energy. That of anticipation, of blood already spilled and a desire for more. She wasn’t sure which she preferred.

“I’ll take first watch, Xiala,” Iktan said. “I prefer it. And I’ll wake you for second. Agreed?”

She yawned, suddenly aware that she had not slept well since before the Convergence, and conceded first watch to Iktan. Relieved of the need to stay awake, she huddled down in her cloak, hoping sleep might come. She was out immediately.



* * *



Xiala dreamed of the bridge, but now, instead of the woman in the blue dress and the green-eyed man dying, it was Callo, her old first mate. He stared at her, mouth open. His eyes were hollow sockets, plucked clean by crows. You should have used your Song to save us, Callo cried, his voice the sound of crashing waves, but instead you Sang us to our deaths!

Her protest was lost in a gale wind. She stood hip-deep in blood, as rain whipped around her face and dead men floated past.