Obsidian and Stars (Ivory and Bone #2)(11)

I take my turn, mirroring each of the steps—loading the sling, the spin, the release. I close my eyes and picture the ivory landing the strike I need. I open them just as Ama lets out a burst of sound—Yes!—and I hurry to her side. She stands over a huge bird, its wings spread wide across the beach, its skull broken. “Nice shot,” says Ama. “Dead before he hit the ground.”

A sudden rush of joy floats up and fills my head with heat.

But then Ama runs off to find the ivory, and I bend to scoop up the bird. A patch of feathers has been knocked from its head, and bright red blood oozes onto the sand. I turn my eyes away when I pick it up, keeping my gaze fixed on the surface of the sea. The sunlight swoops sideways on the waves—I’m dizzy. Vomit rises in my throat, but I swallow it back down.

The hunt continues, and though I occasionally miss, Ama lands almost every one of her throws. Retrieving the chunks of ivory proves to be the most challenging task of the morning, but by the time the net is full, we’ve brought down six birds. Together we lift the net and haul it to the deck of the kayak. The birds shift, a tangle of feathers, blood dripping as we carry the load across the beach. When a trickle flows out of the net and onto my hands, it brings me back to the mammoth hunt, to the sight of Kol cradling his father’s bleeding head. As Ama balances the net across the kayak, satisfying herself that it won’t tip into the sea, I squat at the edge of the water and wash the blood away. The sea is sharp and piercing with cold, but I hold my hands submerged until they go numb.

It’s like this—with red fingers so cold they can hardly wrap around the shaft of the paddle—that I help Ama bring the boat back into shore. Kol’s young cousins crowd around us. They wait patiently in the shallow water as I untie the sash of the kayak that wraps around my waist. Ama is already out of the boat, and the oldest of her sons helps her haul in the net full of birds as the younger two take my hands and help me onto shore. My legs shake beneath me and the youngest boy laughs. “That happens when you sit a long time on the cold sea.” I smile, but I know better. It isn’t cold or stiffness, but the memory of blood that makes it hard for me to stand.

“We’ll bring in your birds with our catch,” says the oldest, a boy made of long limbs and a toothy smile. He lifts his gaze from my face to the sky. “The morning meal is about to be served, and then it will be time to prepare. The burial will take place when the sun is at its peak, at the time of no shadows.”

When the Divine is at the center of everything, I think. When the Spirits of the dead rise right to her side.

My eyes slide to the ridge that encloses the bay to the south—the place I’d seen Kol walking earlier with the tools to dig the grave. The ridge is bare now. The tide slaps a steady rhythm against the boats, like a heartbeat. A chill runs down my spine, and I hurry back up the trail alone, wondering if I might find Kol along the way.





FIVE


The scents of smoke and fish roll from the kitchen. I hear Mala’s voice coming from inside, and I slow my steps, listening at the door for Kol, but I don’t hear him. I don’t see him in the meeting place, either, though many of the Manu have already gathered for the meal.

In my family’s hut, I find Seeri alone. “There you are! They’ve called us to the meal. Chev and Lees are already outside.” Seeri’s eyes shift to the hem of my pants, dripping water onto the floor. “Were you wading?”

“I went out with Ama this morning. We brought in a kill of six seabirds.”

Seeri’s face pinches for a moment, like she’s caught between laughing and crying. She runs her hand across her face and smiles—a slow, soft smile—and shakes her head. “You are already doing what’s best for the Manu clan, already behaving like the betrothed of the clan’s High Elder.”

My stomach tightens at her words, and I fold myself onto the piled hides that form my bed. “Seeri,” I start, my voice tentative. “Can I tell you a secret?”

She sits down across from me. The pinch returns to her face, but now it’s changed. “You’re my sister. You can always tell me your secrets.” But her eyes are wary.

“For so long,” I start, my voice carefully measured, “I couldn’t forgive the Manu. I blamed them for our mother’s death. I hated them. But then I met Kol and all that changed. My feelings for Kol softened my feelings for the Manu. I forgave them. I even decided I could become one of them. I could join their clan to be with Kol.”

I watch Seeri stiffen at these words. We’ve talked this over many times in our hut back home—the way our betrothals will separate us. If I marry Kol, I will join his clan, since he will be the next High Elder of the Manu. But if I leave the Olen, then Seeri will be next in line to be High Elder, after our brother Chev. So if she marries Pek, he will have to join the Olen.

Seeri and I will separate, and so will Pek and Kol.

“But now I’m terrified. I was happy to become betrothed to Kol. I knew that one day he would be High Elder of the Manu. One day, but not now.” I drop my head, and I feel the ivory beads in my hair shift. The beads Ela braided into my hair for my betrothal. “I know I’m ready to be betrothed to Kol,” I say, “but I don’t know if I’m ready to be betrothed to the Manu’s High Elder. It’s all happening so soon. I thought I would have lots of time before I had to be the spouse—the partner—of the leader of the clan that took our mother’s life.”