Obsidian and Stars (Ivory and Bone #2)(39)

Someone is walking nearby.

The steps grow louder, closer. I drop onto one knee, my spear shouldered, my head swiveling in every direction, waiting to see that flash of Dora’s white hair. Shadows weave between shadows, and finally I see a figure.

I loosen my grip on the spear. It’s not Dora. Not Anki. Not Thern or Pada. The girl moving toward me wears a betrothal tunic, and the sight of her face floods me with relief.

Seeri.

She walks side by side with Pek. Kol walks behind them, his steps a bit too uneven, every second step a shuffle as his left leg drags along the ground. His wounded knee. It must be causing him pain.

Seeri runs toward us, expecting to see Chev. When she notices Morsk with me instead, her steps slow. Her eyes widen as her gaze sweeps the path. “Where’s Chev?”

She drops Pek’s hand and steps toward me. I know she will see the answer on my face, so I fold my arms around her and hide my face against her shoulder. Behind her back, Kol’s eyes meet mine, and I can see that he knows why Chev isn’t here. A hollowness opens in his eyes—the same hollowness I saw there when his father died.

When I see that look in his eyes, the tears come. I sob against Seeri’s neck, but I still don’t answer her question. I don’t know if I can say the words.

“What happened?” It’s Kol, his voice. I open my eyes, but he isn’t asking me. He’s asking Morsk.

“We found him. It was already too late—”

“Too late?” Seeri asks. “You mean he’s dead? But how?” Her voice is soft—a mere whisper—but then she swallows a sob and her voice is almost a scream. “Who did it? How? Did you see? Did you see anyone?” Seeri raises her tear-soaked face and drags the backs of both hands across her eyes. “Because we did. . . . We saw two people. . . .” Her words get caught in her throat, garbled by tears.

Pek wraps an arm around her. “We saw two people who shouldn’t be here,” he says. “We went to the camp on the beach—”

“Wait.” I swing around to stare into Pek’s face, afraid of what he might be about to say. But I have to hear it. I have to know. “Who did you see?” Fear falls down on me like cold rain. It soaks into me, chilling me to the bone. “Dora?” I ask. “Anki?”

“No.” Kol answers. His eyes are still trained on Morsk, like a hunter’s eyes trained on his prey. His voice holds a question. No, not a question . . . an accusation. “We saw the other Bosha elders. Thern and Pada.”

He steps forward, and I notice the limp even more. Morsk seems to notice it too—his eyes drop to the ground near Kol’s feet, then flick back to his face. Morsk’s weight slides away, a subtle step backward. He is afraid of Kol. I can feel his fear. The ground crunches beneath his foot. His heel is coming down on the path.

“Don’t,” I say, more to Morsk, but in truth the word is meant for both of them. “Don’t step into the open—”

“Are you hoping to be seen?” Kol asks. His spear flicks up from the ground as he flexes his wrist. The point comes so close to Morsk’s cheek, it’s a wonder it doesn’t cut him. Morsk flinches, but he does as I say—he doesn’t take another step away. “Are you hoping to signal your partners? Did you lead them all here? You knew that they would find Chev here—you were the only one he told. The only one he trusted.”

Kol swallows, and I see pain in him. Not just physical pain, though that is clearly part of it. But it’s more than that. He thinks Morsk killed Chev. He thinks the man my brother trusted most betrayed him.

“And not only Chev, but all his sisters are here, too. Even Seeri, since she came with us. Did you plan with the Bosha elders to turn the Olen leaders over to them? What are you getting in return?”

“I did not lead them here! I followed! I followed so I could help. So I could warn Chev and Mya—even you. I swear it—I did not bring anyone here. Why would I—”

“Because Chev told you that you had lost, that he’d changed his mind. That you would not be betrothed to Lees . . .”

Kol takes another sliding step forward, and though his presence is threatening—the raised spear just an inch from Morsk’s ear—I see the sweat on his brow. His hair sticks to his skin at the temples and a heavy bead runs down the side of his neck below his ear. His teeth are clenched in pain.

“Stop,” I say. I want to say that I know his wound from the bear and the lacerations across his knee need attention. I want to tell him to sit down and rest. But I don’t. His expression is as hard as stone and just as shut off. He would not listen to me. So instead, I ask about the only other thing that matters at this moment. “You say you saw Thern and Pada in the camp. But did you see Lees? Or Noni?”

“No,” says Seeri. She looks at me, her eyes a pale gold, as if they drained of color when she learned of Chev’s death. Her face is pink from the sting of the cold breeze against her wet cheeks. “The way Thern and Pada moved in and out of the tent—it was clear no one else was there.” Seeri casts a sideways look at both Kol and Morsk. “We’ve got to get moving, looking for them. If Dora and Anki killed Chev—”

“If . . . ,” Kol says. He turns to me, and I realize that this is the first time since he found me with Morsk that he has looked me in the eye. “You didn’t see them, Mya?”