Fevered Star (Between Earth and Sky, #2)

“I wish to tell you something, as a friend. About Iktan. You heard xir speak of having a man in the Carrion Crow Shield, but it is more than that. Xe conspired with this man to kill their matron.”

Xiala remembered Aishe telling her the Carrion Crow matron had died and that there were rumors that it was not an accident, but she hadn’t thought of it again since then.

Ziha continued excitedly. “The way I hear it, there was an attempt on the Sun Priest’s life. Some foolish attempt by an outspoken contingent in the Odohaa that failed before it was begun, but it alarmed Iktan’s Crow conspirator—”

“Do you know his name?” Xiala interrupted.

“I do not. Only that he took it to his matron, who refused to act. Said the Odohaa were harmless and did not see the danger such actions posed for her clan. This Crow was so distraught that he reached out to Iktan as the Priest of Knives to beseech leniency, worried at what the tsiyo would rain down on them should the Watchers decide to retaliate. I do not know what transpired between them, but the decision was made that the matron must go. She was known to indulge the Odohaa, but her daughter, the one who would inherit her place, was less tolerant. She is known to have a pragmatic nature.”

“And so Iktan killed her.”

“Not before xe brought it to some of the other priests, my cousin included. I think that is where the idea came from for the second attempt on the Sun Priest’s life.”

“The Odohaa tried again?”

“No, the second attempt was not the Odohaa.” She worried her thumb. “It was my mother.”

“The Golden Eagle matron?”

“It was an opportunity she could not pass up. The pressure from Cuecola has been increasing, willing us to action against the Watchers. But the merchant lords are far away on the other side of the sea. They do not understand the delicate balance between the Sky Made. They would have us act outright, not understanding how Winged Serpent and Water Strider would turn against us. No, it was best to frame Carrion Crow. But then that failed, too. Mother had kept the second assassin secret, thinking the less people knew, the better.”

Mother waters, these people! Xiala thought. She had always considered Teek politics an entanglement, but Tova and her Sky Made clans were raveled in their own nets.

“It was after the second attempt that Iktan killed the matron and the Watchers began to plan their retaliation after all. Which also gave Golden Eagle the perfect excuse to take over leadership. We were so close, Xiala, so close!” Ziha had sat forward, face flushed with excitement and eyes shining. She leaned back abruptly, as if remembering to whom she was speaking.

“Why do you think I need to know all this?” Xiala asked carefully. It felt like dangerous knowledge to her, something that made her a liability should someone not want this information made public. Ziha had to know Xiala would pass it on to Serapio. Unless she didn’t think Xiala would ever see Serapio again. A thought that made her shiver even in the fire’s heat.

“To prove to you that we are friends,” the girl said, voice plaintive. “To show you that Iktan is a schemer and will lie to your face. As xe lied to xir precious Naranpa. I know xe is charming and funny and—”

“Attractive.” A voice came from outside the tent flap. “Don’t forget shockingly attractive.”

Ziha scrambled to her feet as Iktan slid through the entrance, steps as light as cat’s paws. Ziha fumbled at her belt, pulled forth a knife, and brandished it in front of her. “Guards!” she called, at first just a frantic whisper and then louder. “Guards!”

“I gave them the night off,” Iktan said. “Also started a game of patol and lost enough cacao to keep everyone interested and betting for a few hours. No one’s coming to save you, Ziha.”

The girl was sweating, eyes wide with fright, but Iktan hadn’t drawn the blade from xir sleeve, and xe didn’t have that uncanny calm about xir as xe had when Xiala thought things might come to violence before.

“Care to join us, Iktan?” Xiala asked smoothly. “We were just talking about you.”

Xe tilted xir head toward her, a smile leaking sideways across xir face… and then burst into laughter. It was a high, wheezing laugh that bent the ex-priest over, hands on knees. Ziha gaped, dumbfounded. Xiala gave her a reassuring smile.

“Stars and skies, Ziha!” Iktan said, rubbing at xir eyes. Xe dropped down to the furs next to Xiala. “You do not cease to amuse, I will credit you that.”

The Golden Eagle commander still held the knife in front of her, but she was starting to look foolish. Xiala guessed she had no idea what to do. It reminded her of when her own sailors had crossed someone and had to make peace while still saving a bit of dignity.

“Come sit with us, Ziha,” she offered. “Iktan won’t harm you.” She lifted her chin and cut her eyes to the assassin, who was now leaning back on one elbow, looking completely at ease. “I won’t let xir.”

A flicker in Iktan’s eyes, there and gone, sent a cold trickle down Xiala’s spine, telling her she walked a fine line, and she would be sorry if she crossed it.

“Yes, come sit with us,” Iktan coaxed the girl, “and bring some of that tea you have hidden away. The kind they import from Obregi.”

Xiala nodded hopefully, and Ziha rallied. She sheathed her knife, collected the tea, and joined them. Her hands shook as she poured the water into the pot, but Xiala and Iktan said nothing. Ziha placed the pot over the fire to boil, the familiar sounds of preparation too loud. When she drew back her arm, she knocked against a cup, sending it rattling against its neighbor. She let out a small scream, which Xiala pointedly ignored.

They waited in silence for the water to heat, perhaps the most awkward minutes of Xiala’s life. She had been in many uncomfortable situations before. Faced down belligerent drunks, vengeful crewmen, and pompous merchant lords. But she had never played counselor to a seasoned killer and a girl commander, and she did not intend to start now.

“I should leave you both to work this out on your own,” Xiala said, as she took the pot from the fire and prepared the tea. “I’m not one of you, and frankly, I don’t care to know your secrets.” She shot a meaningful glare at Ziha, who still looked like she might piss herself if Iktan so much as sneezed. “I don’t want to get involved in your politics, I certainly don’t want to be your friend”— she thought she saw Iktan’s shoulders fall at that—“but as I was told upon my arrival into this thrice-damned company, it seems we are people who are in a position to help each other.” She handed a cup of tea to Iktan, and then to Ziha. “So, might I suggest we do that?”

“I know how you can help me, Ziha.” Iktan leaned forward. “You can run.”

Ziha paused with the cup raised midway to her mouth, her expression puzzled.

Iktan nodded. “That’s right, you heard me. Run away.” Xe gestured, a wave of fingers. “Go on. Run. Run!”

Ziha dropped the cup and bolted for the door. Tea splattered across the furs, struck Xiala’s knee, and hissed in the fire where it hit the hot coals.

“Really?” Xiala asked, annoyed.

Iktan laughed, an amused chuckle, and sipped from xir cup. Xe glanced at Xiala.

“Do not give me that look, Xiala. She’s lucky I don’t have her spanked and sent back to her mother. A careless tongue is one thing when you are a scion in the Great House idle with gossip, but Ziha is here to command. And when we get to Hokaia and the stakes are that much higher, she will damn us all if she thinks she can share secrets to make friends and somehow that will serve the interests of Golden Eagle.”

She could see the logic in Iktan’s thinking, but she thought the lesson could have been done better.

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