“What’s wrong with you?” Denaochi asked, somewhere between concern and suspicion.
“Nothing. I just…” What to tell him? How much to tell either of them? “I must have hit my head. I’m fine now.” She held out her hands.
Denaochi heaved her to her feet, and she swayed. He grasped her arms, careful of the bandage, and helped her sit.
“Zataya said you came to her complaining of nightmares, and she gave you a tonic, but before you could take it, you collapsed.”
She looked to the witch, but her expression told her nothing. Why would she not want Denaochi to know about the mirror? Naranpa had said she had not told Denaochi about the details of her glowing palms or the other symptoms of possibly being god-touched, so was Zataya simply respecting her confidences? Or did she think it was dangerous for Denaochi to know? Her instincts told her it was wise to keep this from him, at least for now. At least until she understood it better. But the same instinct made her want to keep the details of her vision from Zataya, too.
What she really wanted was an afternoon in the celestial tower’s library and unfettered access to the knowledge there. Surely she could find something about the god-touched, and if not that specifically, something about the visions she had seen. The sun god in her radiant form with a fiery tail and deadly talons, fighting the crow and the jaguar, seemed plain enough. A vision plucked from her own worries. But the rest. The frozen companion named Ano, the murder in the forge. The memories were both intimate and entirely foreign.
“I don’t know what happened,” she said aloud. “Perhaps I’m still exhausted.”
Denaochi made a noise in his throat, part blame and part skepticism. “I told you to wait for me.”
“I know. I… I couldn’t sleep, and I thought Zataya could help. But I’m better now.” She rallied and gave him a wan smile. The black-and-white bottle still sat on the table, and she held it up for Denaochi to see.
The suspicion in his eyes softened.
“Well, it is good Zataya brought me to you. There is something else we must discuss.” He laid a folded sheet of paper on the table between them, marked with three sinuous plant leaves. “I sent a message to a friend after we parted last. Another boss, the owner of the Agave House. She sent a reply.”
“A reply to what?”
“We need them, Nara, if we mean to go up against Carrion Crow.”
She had thought to prepare herself should the Crow God Reborn seek her out, but she had not thought to attack Carrion Crow. She had no quarrel with the clan itself, especially that young Shield captain. This was Denaochi scheming, and she did not fully trust it.
Was that why Zataya thought to keep Naranpa’s potential powers a secret from her brother for now? Did Zataya know Denaochi would hope to use them, to use her, to dangerous ends?
“It’s civil war, whether you wish to see it or not,” he said, no doubt noting her skepticism. “Carrion Crow is massing an army in Odo, and there is talk that the Sky Made will be made to follow or else. We will give them another option.”
“The other Sky Made might want to distance themselves from Carrion Crow after what has happened, but that does not explain why the bosses of the Maw would wish to rally to me. There is no love lost between the Watchers and—” She almost said your people before she caught herself.
“The Watchers are dead, and you are a survivor. The Maw loves nothing more than a survivor. And you are a daughter of the Coyote, lest you forget.” His smile was only a baring of teeth, enough to let her know he had heard her unspoken thought. “You are both coyote and sun. You will be a powerful symbol, especially after you kill the Crow God Reborn.”
“As if it will be that simple.”
Denaochi’s voice took on a dangerous edge. “It must be that simple, because that is what I have promised the other bosses.”
So that was it. He wanted to use her to solidify his own power in the Maw. His hated sister returned home and dependent on him. Enough like a Sky Made to bestow the respect and authority of her former position upon her chosen allies, but Maw-born enough to be accepted as one of them.
“If you mean for me to be merely a symbol, who would lead the Maw?” Her voice was cool, the answer already obvious.
Denaochi leaned back, his grin bright but his eyes as cold as her own. “Ah, Nara, don’t be like that. If you survive your encounter with the Crow God Reborn, we will share leadership.”
And if I don’t? she thought. Then all that consolidated power will still be yours, and the Crow God Reborn even more feared.