She laughed, relieved. “Is that all? I am the most sane I have been since I left the Maw all those years ago.”
“And yet you invited both your enemies here tonight.”
“Do you mean Carrion Crow and Golden Eagle?” She motioned Baaya over to finish her hair. The young woman had formed her hair into a bun, spikes radiating out around her head like a starburst. She had coated Naranpa’s black hair in a thick yellow-dyed paste to set the spikes and then used the same paste to paint her neck and the edges of her face to evoke the mask of the Sun Priest.
“Unless you have yet more enemies.”
“It is possible, but I hope to find allies tonight.”
“It’s a gamble.”
“Yes, it is. I learned that strategy from you.”
“Ah, but I play that way because I don’t expect to survive.”
She didn’t like the sound of that. “What do you mean?”
“We are but fevered stars,” he intoned, like an orator on a stage. “Here a little while, bright with promise, before we burn away.”
“Is that a quote?”
“The Obregi Book of Flowers. Do you not know it?”
“No, and it sounds depressing.”
“It’s poetry, Nara.”
She grinned. “Oh, and you are a patron of the arts?”
“Skies, no. But I’ve bedded a poet or two in my day. It’s good to know a bit of verse to make a good impression.”
She laughed. This was another side of her brother she had never seen, and she found herself charmed. There was so much to learn about each other, so much time together to look forward to.
A knock at the door, and Pasko stuck his head in. “They’ve arrived. Sedaysa and the others are keeping the matrons busy. And there is a man at the door, Okoa Carrion Crow. Shall I let him enter?”
“Okoa?” She exchanged a look with Denaochi. “He came.”
Her brother shrugged. “A good sign for us. We’ll use it to our advantage.”
“Keep him on the roof for now,” she instructed Pasko. “Tell him it will not be long, but I think we can use his arrival to make an impression.”
Pasko nodded an acknowledgment. Naranpa waited for the man to leave, but he hesitated, gaze lingering on her.
“Is there something more?” she asked.
The look he gave her was dark as he hastily pulled the door closed, her question unanswered.
“Strange,” she murmured.
“Pasko is a hard man, but he’s loyal. A Golden Eagle scion killed his brother. He hates the clans more than even I do.”
“I didn’t know that was possible.”
He laughed and pushed himself to his feet. His mantle settled around his shoulders. His eyes glittered with delight, and a half smile carved across his narrow face. He looked dangerous. Not the way the Crow God Reborn had, like a creature of divinity and shadow, but like hunger and violence, like the coyote son that he was. And she found that she did not mind it.
“You’re enjoying this.” She allowed herself her own smile.
“As are you.”
“Not enjoying it. But it does feel right.” She could not deny that. She had tried to be someone she was not when she was in the tower, thinking if only she mimicked Sky Made ways, they would be forced to see her worth and that she belonged. But she was not Sky Made and should have never tried to force herself to be who she was not. The events since the Convergence had stripped all that away. All her naivete, all her fool’s luck. She had said she was someone else now, and it was true. She was the handmaiden of the sun god, and the coyote stood at her right hand. And together they would remake Tova.
“I am glad that we found each other again.” She pressed a kiss to his hollowed cheek.
He looked at her, truly looked at her. “It has been my greatest joy.”
He took her hand in his. Her fingers were adorned with gold and jade. He kissed her palm where the sun god’s power had danced only moments ago, and together they went to meet the matrons.
* * *
Despite Naranpa’s optimism, the meeting proved to be an exercise in futility. She had hoped that the Sky Made might recognize that they shared a common purpose in the preservation of Tova, but the matrons were women used to power and wholly unused to fear. And now they were frightened, unsure of the future, and could feel the dominance that they had once thought bedrock and a birthright shifting beneath their feet. They were in no mood for reason, particularly from Naranpa, and Nuuma Golden Eagle let it be known immediately.