Fie paused, counting up turns of the last moon. She was about to spend three more weeks dragging the lordlings about the hills. That made for a different sort of challenge. “Can you spare any laceroot seed?”
The keeper’s gray brows rose. She flipped the latches on a worn trunk and dug inside. “You a-feared of getting with child, too?”
Tavin knocked over a pot of sandal-nails and swore under his breath.
Fie tried to ignore the pointed look the keeper gave him. She did not succeed. A flush nipped at her ears and neck. “I’ve no time for bleeding, let alone rutting.”
The keeper sifted a fistful of black seed into a palm-size pouch, enough to keep this moon’s bleeding at bay a few weeks. If Fie ran out before they made it to Trikovoi, she had bigger problems.
“Which way do you head now?” the woman asked, passing the pouch over.
“North.”
“Other band went west, so the north’s clear. You’ll need cold gear past Gerbanyar. I got none of that here.” She handed Fie robes, masks, a map charred into goat-hide, a flint, and a jug of flashburn. “There. Ought to set you until your next viatik.”
“Thank you,” Fie said.
“Thank Crossroads-Eyes,” the shrine-keeper said dryly, jerking her head at the dead god. “Sees all your choices. Seems they wanted you to choose your way here.”
“To be sure.”
“Watch your back out on that road. Other Crows this morning, they said something odd.” The woman’s voice hardened. “Said Hawks ran through their camp last night. Not Oleanders—Hawks. Said they were looking for a girl chief and two false Crows.” Fie froze. “And said there’s a high price on those heads now.”
Somewhere in the shadows of the shrine, the baby’s cry rose again.
Fie heard a faint, deliberate rustle behind her that said Tavin was one wrong word from showing how false a Crow he was.
“Now I figure, we’re Crows, we got one rule. I’m looking after myown, aye? And any chief, well, she’s got to be following that rule, too. You strike me as a chief too sharp to break it.” The keeper’s eye drilled into Fie’s. “Not a girl caught up in two mummers’ troubles. If you see that girl out there, you make sure that trouble doesn’t come down on all our heads. You hear?”
Fie didn’t blink. “Aye.”
“Then Crossroads-Eyes steer you safe. Go deal the dead gods’ mercy.”
They left with nary another word, picking their way down a lattice of vines and chittering tree-rats. Once they were earthbound and far enough from the shrine, Fie swung her pack off and dug for a fistful of dried panbread. Jasimir’s shoulders sank with relief as he and Tavin did the same.
A hand full of panbread thrust into her sight. Fie looked up. Tavin held his breakfast out to her. Jasimir blinked, a strip of his own panbread still outstretched for his Hawk to taste. After a moment, he held the rest out to Fie as well.
Fie’s throat closed. She fished out a pouch of salt and sprinkled it over their food. Her voice cracked as she said, “Go ahead.”
“Thank you, chief,” Tavin said quietly.
They returned to merciful silence, birdsong and rustling breezes washing through the air. Over and over, Fie repeated the shrine-keeper’s words in her head:A girl chief. Two false Crows. Trouble on all our heads.
Look after your own.
This was the road Pa wanted her to take. The road Crossroads-Eyes wanted her to choose. And she couldn’t fuss either of them now.
A question curled up as she chewed. “That skinwitch said the queen raised ghasts. Never heard of witchwork like that. And the queen’s no witch anyhow.”
Tavin and Jasimir traded glances. “I had… a theory,” Jasimir began, hesitant. “You’ve heard of the ceremony to marry into the Phoenix caste, yes?”
Fie nodded. “Seen something like it in Swan teeth. You lose your Birthright, aye?”
“Correct.” Jasimir frowned. “Wait—what do you mean, you’ve seen it in Swan teeth?”
“Swans don’t rut inside the caste,” Fie said around a mouthful of panbread. “At least, not to conceive. They find a willing partner outside the caste, and there’s a ritual, and the partner loses their Birthright until the next new moon. Meanwhile they try real hard to make a baby Swan.”
Tavin let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Of course. All this time we wondered how Rhusana pulled it off, and we could have just asked a Crow.”
