Denaochi’s face was empty and his eyes staring. Pasko’s blade still protruded from his chest. She absently noticed the hilt on this blade was the same as the one he had driven into Denaochi’s flesh at the Agave, but there, a spark of life had lingered, and she had been able to feed it with her own lifeforce and coax her brother back. Here, it did not seem possible.
She met Zataya’s gaze, already haunted, and she knew the witch understood.
“Please,” Zataya whispered anyway. “Try, anyway.”
“Maybe it is not too late. Do you have your god magics? The salt and smoke.”
“I only had enough to help you.”
Then Naranpa was his sole hope.
She found the healing place within her, the power rising to her palms. She pressed her hands against Denaochi’s chest. Warm blood seeped between her fingers.
Silence welled around her, and she sensed the others in the room watching. It was as if the world held its breath and waited.
But the wait was for naught.
Tears fell and her body shook as the glow faded from her hands. Zataya wailed beside her. She beat her fists against the floor until someone, Naranpa didn’t notice who, pulled her away.
She looked around. The room had been demolished, tables overturned, benches broken, and the unmistakable stench of blood and cooked flesh permeated everything.
Cooked flesh. Skies, she had killed a man. No, not a man. Her brother’s murderer.
It was a strange comfort, if a comfort at all. She had never wanted to take a life, even for vengeance. She felt lost, unsure of who she was supposed to be. All her plans of only hours ago were destroyed as if they had never been. Her imagined future lay like ash on her tongue.
“Where is Nuuma?” she asked, suddenly remembering why they were all here.
“Fled.” Okoa had come to kneel beside her. His expression was wary but unafraid, as if he had seen worse and expected to see worse again in the future. “Her captain is dead.” His voice had a strange hitch to it.
She nodded, because she was not sure what else to do.
She became aware of someone else hovering on her other side. Sedaysa. “What happened?” Naranpa asked. She meant why. Why had Pasko betrayed them?
Mercifully, Sedaysa understood. “He asked me earlier if there was any gift great enough to buy my soul. I told him Denaochi had already given that to me, long ago. He nodded, as if he understood. I should have known then that something was amiss. There is only one thing he wanted in all the world, only one thing that would have made him turn traitor, and that was vengeance against the man who killed his brother. Golden Eagle must have given him that. And in exchange for the scion’s life, he agreed to take yours.”
He must have known that even if he succeeded in killing her, Denaochi would have hunted him down. Why do it? Why pay such a price?
“His demons are quieted.” Amalq joined Sedaysa, her face wet with tears. Tears for Pasko or Denaochi? Maybe both.
“We should leave this place,” Ieyoue suggested gently.
“The Agave is not far.” Sedaysa stepped forward. “You are welcome to continue your talk there.” Her voice was steady, but it had lost its smoky charm and was raw with grief. She had loved Denaochi, too.
See, Brother, Naranpa thought. Zataya, Sedaysa, your foolish older sister. You were well loved after all.
“Go,” Naranpa said, voice subdued. “I need to take care of Ochi.”
Ieyoue exhaled softly. “He’s gone, Naranpa. There is nothing to do for him now, and the living of Tova still need you.”
Tova. Thrice-damned Tova. She knew now that the city would take and take from her until there was nothing left. How could she hate something and love it all at once? “If you cannot help me, go.”
“I will help you.” Zataya pushed her way forward to join her. She grasped Naranpa’s hand, still coated with Denaochi’s blood.
“I will help you, too.” That was Sedaysa.
“I will take the others to the Agave,” Amalq offered. “Come join us when you are able.”
She stepped forward to usher the Sky Made up the stairs. Naranpa watched them go. Once the matrons and Okoa had left, she turned to the Dry Earth women beside her, and together they tended to their newly dead.
CHAPTER 25
THE MERIDIAN GRASSLANDS
YEAR 1 OF THE CROW
There is not enough water in the Crescent Sea to wash clean a guilty conscience.
—Teek saying
Xiala woke to find a bowl of her seawater broth just inside her door the next morning. There was no indication of who had left it, but it had to have been Ziha. She wondered how the girl was faring and if she had recovered from her encounter with Iktan. She supposed she would find out soon enough once the march was under way.