Fevered Star (Between Earth and Sky, #2)(49)

Hours passed in the darkness, and Tova slid to nothing behind them. The progress down the tributary was slow as they worked against crosswinds and currents, and she understood again why the Water Strider’s beasts gave them such an advantage in river waters. The walls of the canyon began to diminish until they found themselves sailing past high grasslands on a steady breeze. They finally approached what looked to be a small encampment just as the sun breached the horizon.

The sun.

“Mother waters,” Xiala whispered, overcome. She pushed back her hood and let the light warm her face. It was still winter, still cold enough for pockets of snow and morning frost to paint the prairie, but the presence of the sun made everything more tolerable. She was an island girl from an island people, had grown up with palms and sand. Even the jungle of Cuecola felt more natural than Tova cliffs and bone-breaking cold.

“I lived my whole life with the sun and took it for granted,” Iktan said, tone pensive. “I will not make that mistake again.”

She opened her eyes to find Iktan beside her, hood still up but facing the dawn.

“The loss disturbed me more than I realized it would,” xe said.

She suspected Iktan was talking about more than just the sun, but before she could ask, a shout of greeting rang out from shore. She braced herself against the rails as the sailors brought the skimmer to ground on the riverbank. Several people came ambling down the gentle slope. The tawny-skinned young woman in the lead looked to be in charge. Her clothes were the finest and freshly washed, her white shirt and trousers made of woven fabric and embellished with gold beadwork along the seams. A white deerskin cloak was fastened over one shoulder by what looked to be a spray of feathers made of hammered gold, and a white fur collar encircled her neck. She wore a braid of gold on her brow like a signet, and gold nuggets pierced her earlobes. She glowed under the morning sun, light catching in her brown hair and sparkling in her hazel eyes. Pretty, Xiala thought, but there’s something cold about her, imperious in the way she looks down her nose at us, as if she knows already we are her inferiors. And she’s dressed for a parade, not for living rough on a half-frozen prairie.

“Did you see him?” the woman asked, before they had even exited the boat.

“No,” Iktan said, as xe leaped lightly to shore. “But I’ve brought a friend.”

The woman’s eyes cut to Xiala. “Who’s this?”

“Xiala of the Teek, meet Ziha Golden Eagle, second daughter of the matron and commander of our expedition to Hokaia.” Iktan headed up the incline, forcing everyone to follow.

Ziha flashed Xiala an irritated frown before pushing forward to walk beside Iktan. “Your mission was to get close enough to evaluate the truth of Carrion Crow’s claims. You said you had a man in the Shield—”

“To whom I spoke,” xe cut in smoothly, “and who reassured me that it’s true.”

“What part is true?” Ziha asked.

Iktan waved a hand. “All of it, Ziha. The arrival of the Odo Sedoh, the subsequent slaughter, which the Odohaa are now calling the Reckoning, by the way. We should have seen that coming. Honestly, between my resources and yours, we should have foreseen all of this. I’m not sure where the failure lies, but a failure it was. Of truly epic proportions.”

“One man,” Ziha scoffed. “One man killed everyone? It’s not possible.”

Iktan stopped. Pivoted back to Xiala, who was trying to make herself inconspicuous. “Is it possible?” xe asked.

They both stared at her expectantly.

“Is it possible your friend killed all those people on Sun Rock?” Iktan repeated. Xe counted off on xir fingers. “My fellow priests, including Ziha’s cousin, Abah; a cadre of Knives; and a handful of Golden Eagle Shield.”

Xiala stood dumbfounded. Did they really expect her to answer? Hells, did they blame her? Was that why she was there?

“One word will do,” Iktan said. “Yes or no.”

She pressed her lips together.

Iktan sighed. “The answer is yes. She won’t speak it because she just realized who we are.” Xe started walking again.

Ziha’s eyes lingered on Xiala. “Who is she, again?”

“Come, Ziha. Is there a meal to be had in this place? I’m tired and hungry, and I stink. The last meal I ate was some kind of gruel. Utterly tasteless. I could use a decent plate.”

“Should we shackle her?” Ziha asked, eyes still on Xiala.

Iktan had reached the top of the hill. “What for? Tova is a hundred miles south from here. She has no food and no water, and it’s cold enough to freeze. She’s not going anywhere.”

“Am I a prisoner, then?” Xiala asked, trying to keep the trembling out of her voice. Iktan was right. The reality of her situation was crashing down on her with the terrifying undeniability of a rogue wave.

Iktan’s dark eyes softened. “We are all prisoners here, Xiala. You, Ziha, even myself. Prisoners to fate, that unreasonable bitch. But I prefer to think of us as people who can help each other, yes? After all, we’re all on the same side, now.”

Xiala watched Iktan disappear over the crest, and after a moment, Ziha hurried after, the guards who had accompanied her trailing. Finally, the sailors from the skimmer passed, talking quietly to themselves and ignoring her.

“On the same side,” she murmured. “I do not think so.”