She had been thinking about it for a while, and her voice was grieved but confident. “I do not belong here any longer. I thought I could come home, but with Denaochi gone, I have no home here anymore.”
“If not the Maw, where will you go? Not the celestial tower?”
“No, I have no home there, either.”
“Then where?”
“Where I should have been all along, but for foolish luck. I’m going to Sun Rock to face the Odo Sedoh.”
Sedaysa startled. “Are you mad?”
Naranpa laughed. Now that she had said it aloud, she felt freer than she had in days. “Ochi asked me the same thing once, and I assured him I was very much sane.”
“You counsel me to embrace a greater destiny, but I would advise you not to hasten your demise, Naranpa. You are still needed. Tova still needs you.”
For once, she felt that was not true. “I think you are mistaken, Matron.”
“At least wait until we hear from Carrion Crow.”
“No. I do not know what has befallen Okoa, but I fear if we wait any longer, it will be too late. We have a narrow window of opportunity to strike at the Crow God Reborn, and I dare not squander it.”
“Peyana promised us sun weapons. Is that not reason enough to hold? If you go to face the crow god now, you will go empty-handed.”
Pasko’s face, ruined by fire, flashed through her mind. “I beg to differ.”
Sedaysa sighed. “I have seen those in the throes of grief do foolish things in the wake of a loved one’s death, as if they seek to join them.”
Now it was Naranpa’s turn to be surprised. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“I don’t know you well enough to know, but I fear it all the same.” Sedaysa’s look was that of a woman whose profession it was to understand a person’s needs, sometimes better than the person themselves. “You are as stubborn as your brother, and I see there is nothing I can say that will stop you.”
“I’ve made up my mind.”
She took Naranpa’s hands in her own, and held them tight. “Then burn bright, Sun Priest, and I shall mark your transit across the heavens.”
* * *
Naranpa wore mourning white, a last gift from the matron of Coyote clan. The long sleeves clung tight to her arms, and a golden belt encircled her waist. Around her shoulders hung the white cloak Denaochi had gifted her, the one with the stars in the lining. Her hair was loose and tangled, and Sedaysa had washed it in gold dust.
“I once told you I was helping you only because of my love for your brother,” Sedaysa had said as she ran amber-coated fingers through Naranpa’s hair. “But this I do for you, Naranpa. You have earned it.” And then she had touched her lips to Naranpa’s own, briefly, intimately, before bidding her farewell.
The streets were blessedly empty, the city having developed a rhythm of morning and evening despite the absence of the sun to guide them, and Naranpa guessed it was a few short hours until a new day.
She had not gone far down the main road of the Maw before she saw what she was looking for. A crow, perched atop a ladder that leaned against an adobe wall.
“Go tell your master,” she called to the corvid. “Tell him I go to Sun Rock, and we will have this settled between us.”
She half expected the bird to speak back to her, to acknowledge the receipt of her message or to taunt her for marching to her certain death. But it only turned its eye to her and cried out before taking wing. There, she thought. It is done. We will come to an end today one way or another.
Perhaps Sedaysa was right, and grief made her reckless with her own life. Or perhaps it was the opposite, and the loss of her brother unearthed a bravery in her she had never known before.
She closed her eyes, turned her palm up, and let the barest trickle of rage breach her inner barriers. Flames rose to her hand, as bright and hungry as wildfire. It danced through her fingers, caressing her unblemished skin.
But I do not plan to die so easily, little bird, she thought. Tell your master that, too.
CHAPTER 30
CITY OF HOKAIA
YEAR 1 OF THE CROW
It is no mystery to this traveler why Hokaia has grown into the Jewel of the Plains. It is well laid out, centrally located, and blessed with multiple riverways that stretch the length of the continent. It truly is the heart of the Meridian. Yet I cannot help feeling that it is thoroughly haunted.
—A Commissioned Report of My Travels to the Seven Merchant Lords of Cuecola, by Jutik, a traveler from Barach
Xiala flew on eagleback over the Meridian plains. There were fourteen of them among a dozen great birds of prey. Nuuma rode alone at the front of the formation, on the back of a majestic creature named Suhtsee. She was flanked by three Shield riders on each side. Behind Nuuma rode Terzha and Iktan, and behind them rode Xiala, her arms wrapped around the waist of a Shield woman who had introduced herself briefly and then not spoken to Xiala again except to command her to hold on and, when she had asked once about how far they would ride that day, told her to save her words until they landed. And how long will that be? Xiala had wanted to ask, but she had not, choosing to simply endure.