Fevered Star (Between Earth and Sky, #2)(68)

Okoa watched, surprised.

“Benundah, too.” Chaiya gestured to the other corvid.

“Why?”

“She talks to him, doesn’t she?”

His voice was pitched low, but Okoa was sure Benundah heard him. And there was no mistaking what “him” Chaiya meant.

“She would never repeat what we say.”

Chaiya looked down for a moment, as if thinking. “She stayed with him on Sun Rock that night, didn’t she? During the storm before Convergence.”

Okoa didn’t have an answer.

“I heard that the crows have a name for him. Suneater.”

“How would you know that?”

His cousin cocked his head. “Do you doubt it?”

“I…” Why would Chaiya lie? “Even if it is true, I don’t see how it matters.”

“Send her away, Okoa. I did the same to Kutssah.”

Okoa wanted to protest that Chaiya did not have the same relationship with Kutssah that he had with Benundah, but he knew his cousin cared for his mount as much as he did his. And he remembered that Benundah had helped the Odo Sedoh at the monastery and told him Okoa’s name. And it was true she had sheltered him, not just from the storm but from Okoa when he sought him after the incident in the yard. He had never doubted Benundah’s loyalties… until now. Damn you, Chaiya, he thought. But he unsaddled Benundah and sent her away all the same.

As she took to the wing, he thought she glared at him with one baleful eye, but he couldn’t be sure if it was her or his own guilt at not trusting her.

Once she had disappeared out over the forested mountains, Chaiya motioned him over to the display of weaponry.

“Choose.”

Okoa tensed. “Why?”

Chaiya laughed and stepped to the hook spears. “Don’t look so frightened, Okoa. I thought we’d get in some practice while we talk. You haven’t had any proper training since you returned from the war college.”

That was true enough, and he relaxed a bit. His cousin wouldn’t hurt him. The very idea was ridiculous, a sign of the paranoia that had plagued him since his mother’s murder. He vowed to leave that behind, at least for the brief time here at the lakeside.

“Not the throwing spear.” He motioned to the arrows.

Chaiya raised his hands in surrender and shifted over to the archery display. The two men busied themselves with choosing and testing bows and then evaluating arrows for warps and cracks. Once they were both satisfied, they moved to stand before the padded targets, each one set out about forty paces.

“Youth first, Cousin,” Chaiya said.

Okoa grinned. “Are you sure? If you don’t go first, you won’t be able to brag that you once had the lead.”

“I’ll take that chance.”

Okoa inclined his head. He stepped forward and found his stance, nocked the bolt, and, straightening, drew the bow. He allowed himself to focus, breathing into his feet, connecting to the earth and the world around him. He noted the slight breeze lifting off the lake, the faint sounds of an animal somewhere in the shrubbery, the in and out of his own breath. He continued to draw until there was an invisible line between his jaw, his nose, and the arrow tip. His arm trembled slightly from maintaining the tension. He focused on the distant target, and then, all at once, he exhaled and released his shot.

The arrow flew true, striking the target dead center.

“Ho!” Chaiya commended him. “A clean hit. I forgot you were good at this.”

“Better than the hook spear,” he said, pleased at the praise.

It had been weeks since he’d drawn a bow, and the weather here was colder and drier than Hokaia. He was worried the unfamiliar bow wouldn’t respond well, but it had behaved exactly as he’d wished.

Chaiya stepped up to take his turn, and Okoa made room. Chaiya’s bolt was fletched with brown feathers to distinguish it from Okoa’s white. Okoa watched as he found his stance, drew, and loosed. His arrow hit just to the left of Okoa’s, off-center.

“Skies.” His cousin made a show of stretching out his shoulder. “The old injury acting up.”

Okoa smiled, giving him his excuse. He took up his next arrow, and Chaiya stepped aside.

“I bet you can’t do it again,” he teased as Okoa passed.

“Care to wager?”

“Ah, you Tovans and your wagers!”

“Are you not Tovan?”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t take the bet!”

They both laughed at that, and Okoa felt the tension ease. It had been a good idea to get him away from the Great House. He was working too hard, worrying too much. The simple pleasures of bow and arrow, the natural world, and companionship were doing him good.

He took his stance and drew, bolt aligned along his cheek, target in sight.

“Your father was an impressive archer, too.” Chaiya’s words were quiet, but they had their intended effect.

Okoa froze. His heart accelerated, and he was suddenly light-headed. First Maaka the day in the sky cells, and now Chaiya. It was no coincidence, of that he was sure. But it was treacherous ground he did not wish to explore.

“Chaiya, no.”

“I know it was forbidden to speak of Ayawa when Yatliza was alive—”

He turned to face Chaiya, arrow pointed at his head. “I said no.”