The man struggles to his feet, one hand searching the ground for his dropped atlatl. But he has no hope of finding his weapon—Thern is coming too fast.
Before the man can straighten to his full height, Thern is on him, knocking him face-first onto the ground. With both hands, Thern tugs Anki’s spear from the man’s back, blood flying from the point as he swings it like a club.
As Thern swings the spear, he connects with the other Tama man who climbed over the wall. Staggering from the blow, he drops his spear and retreats for the cliff. Pek grabs the dropped spear and raises it over his shoulder, but he never has to make the throw. Both men disappear over the ledge.
I drop to the ground, breathing so hard I feel faint. I glance around. Pada—a dart still in her arm—comforts Lees, who has pulled the dart from her own arm. Seeri is at Pek’s side, checking a cut on his face. Winded and gulping for breath, Morsk and Thern kneel side by side at the edge of the cliff, watching the water below.
“They’re paddling away,” Morsk calls over his shoulder. “They’re in retreat.” He climbs to his feet just as Thern does, and Thern hands him his atlatl and pack of darts.
Morsk nods to Thern, and walks to Pada’s side. Without a word, Pada nods and hands him her weapons, too.
“How?” I stammer. “How is it that there are not more—”
“There were more,” Pek says. “We saw them coming while we waited below with the boats. We intercepted as many as we could, driving them back before they could climb the cliff. We turned quite a few around, but we couldn’t stop them all. Then we saw your fire and we decided we better climb.”
“Before we did, we slashed as many of their kayaks as we could,” Seeri says. “Hopefully, we’ve bought some time before they can return.” I step closer to the ledge and look out at the retreating Tama. Nearly every kayak carries an extra fighter, draped across the deck, hands and feet dragging through the water. A few boats struggle to stay afloat as two fighters cling to the sides.
“And our boats?” I ask.
“Tucked away in the dune grass, out of sight.” Seeri actually smiles.
That’s when the knot of fear around my heart loosens just enough for me to look back at the clump of trees. To seek out the glow of Kol and Noni’s fire and know that they are both safe. I climb to my feet, ready to run back and thank them for setting the signal and tell them what has happened.
But only a scent of fire remains. No smoke rises from the trees.
Kol’s fire is out.
TWENTY-FOUR
Before I can think, my feet are moving across the ground, carrying me back toward the edge of the trees, back to the place Kol and Noni set the signal fire. But then my thoughts slow me. I turn. The others are following—even Thern and Pada.
I stop. “You go and check,” I say to Morsk. “I’ll stay here. I need to talk with the Bosha.”
Morsk hesitates. “We’ll stay with her,” Seeri says. “I have questions for them, too.”
“Then I’ll go with Morsk,” Lees says. “Mya, if Kol needs you, I’ll come right back.”
She smiles at me, and the bond that brought us here—the need to protect each other—stretches between us like an unseen cord. I nod and Lees and Morsk hurry away. My heart tears as they go—I want to check on Kol and see him with my own eyes—but I need to deal with Thern and Pada first. As the High Elder, I need to decide what’s to be done with them.
“We’re unarmed,” Pada says. “We turned our weapons over to Morsk.”
I run my eyes over her and Thern. Their hands are empty. Morsk has their packs. “Knives?” I ask.
Pada lifts up the hem of her tunic to show me that there is nothing tucked into her belt. Thern does the same. When he turns to show me his back, I see the trail of blood that runs from the place I drove a spear into his shoulder. “You saved our lives,” Thern says, even as I wonder how serious the wound I gave him might be.
“You tried to kill me and Morsk,” I say. “How can I trust you now?”
“You tried to kill us too,” Thern says, running a hand over his wounded shoulder. His fingers come away red, but the bleeding has slowed. “But then you defended us. You saved both of us. I don’t know why you did it—I never thought I’d owe my life to an Olen—but we owe our lives to you now.”
“Who were those fighters?” Pada asks.
“The Tama clan. There’s a girl hiding on this island. They killed her mother and now they’re coming for her.”
“And you would fight to protect her?”
“I would.”
Pada winces, touching the wound in her arm, and for a moment I see something familiar in her—the girl I looked up to when I was small. “So then,” she says. “What we believed about you was wrong—”
“What you believed?” Seeri asks. “What did you believe?”
Thern turns to her, but when he takes a stride in her direction, Pek comes between them. “You can answer her from where you are,” he says.
A flash of something lights in Thern’s eyes—anger or defensiveness—but it leaves as quickly as it came. “Lo and Orn, and then Dora and Anki, talked about Chev and his family as if they cared only for themselves,” Thern says. “We believed that the Olen clan had no compassion for anyone—would never help anyone outside their clan—no matter how bad their need. But when Mya and Morsk came to our aid—risking their lives to save ours—”
“It became clear that everything we’ve been told about the Olen is a lie,” Pada says.
“You fought to defend us. We fought to defend you, too,” Thern adds. “And we promise to defend you from now on.” A slight smile curls the corners of Thern’s lips, and I’m reminded of his speech at the meeting of clans.
“You asked Chev to be the High Elder of the Bosha again,” I say. “But you weren’t sincere with that request—”
“He was sincere in asking on behalf of the Bosha,” says Pada. “They sent us to ask Chev to be their High Elder. They wanted Chev to take them back. They still do. They had no idea what Dora and Anki were planning. Only Thern and I knew. Only Thern and I supported them.” She pauses, looking down at her empty hands. “Lo was my cousin,” she says. “I guess I trusted her too much.” When she looks up, her eyes are damp. “We were family.”
I glance at Seeri, who gives me a small nod. I turn to Pek, too, and he does the same. He even takes a step back so he is no longer standing between Thern and Seeri.
“All right,” I say, “but while we’re here you’ll remain unarmed.”
I turn toward the place Morsk and Lees went in search of Kol and Noni, the need to see Kol growing more urgent the longer we are separated. But even as I hurry toward Kol, my thoughts spin with memories of my brother, Chev, and the belief he lived by—clan always comes first. I can’t help but wonder if my brother would have come to Pada and Thern’s aid, or if he would have allowed the Tama to kill them.