“YOU TELL MY MA IT WOULDN’T!” Fie screamed.
“I do hope you don’t kill me this time,” Little Witness said. “Ijustgrew tall enough to work the lift without a stepstool.”
Fie’s fists balled at her side. “If you don’t start speaking plain—”
“I was, at least about the stepstool.” Little Witness sighed. “Here’s as plain as I can get with you: Aye, we Crows had a Birthright. It was stolen. And if you want to take it back, you’ll need to keep your oath.”
Fie froze at that. “My—myoath? My Covenant oath?”
“Aye.”
“Prince Jasimir’s safe with his aunt,” Fie said, head spinning. “I delivered him to his allies. Twice, if we’re being picky. Our end of the deal is kept.”
If it wasn’t—somehow—
Pahad struck the oath with the prince. And a Covenant oath followed you from life to life, until it was fulfilled.
“Why wasn’t that enough?” Fie demanded.
“You tell me. Six Hawks, two swords, every Phoenix tooth in the land, andthatisn’t enough for you.” Little Witness undid her hair-tail and set about sorting her long black locks into a plait. “Keep your oath and you’ll find our Birthright. You’ll not find it sooner. I can speak no clearer.”
“Whatisour Birthright, then?”
“Ah.” Little Witness smiled one of her dreadful smiles again. “It would be cheating to tell you.”
“You told Pa he was Gen-Mara not a half hour ago.”
The god in the girl shook her head. “Gen-Mara hasn’t failed his duty for hundreds of years. I can’t say the same for you.”
“I see why I keep killing you,” Fie muttered, stuffing teeth back into her bag. When she looked up, Little Witness was holding out her hand.
“I asked for teeth,” she said.
“And I asked you what Birthright I’m supposed to find for us. Seems we’ll both leave empty-handed.”
Little Witness’s laugh was even worse than her smile. “Oh, I do miss this, you and me. It was a cruel thing, putting such a spark in you but telling you not to love the fire.” She gave a twitch of her hand. “I want twelve, for the chiefs that will come to me in the next moon. We all know the storm’s coming; only a fool waits for the lightning to tell them to find shelter.”
That was hard to argue with. Fie counted out a dozen Phoenix teeth, feeling the weight of each like lead in her belly.
A dozen teeth she’d never use to defend her own.
A dozen teeth another chief will use instead, her Chief voice reminded her.
It chafed, how she’d never held a Phoenix tooth three moons ago, and now she could scarce bear to part with them.
Fie dropped her teeth into the dead god’s waiting palm anyway. Little Witness’s fingers closed.
She looked Fie dead in the eye, suddenly sharp. “I can’t tell you your own story, little god. Life after life, you’ve failed, and none worse than when I tell you outright what to seek. Butthisis why the Covenant needs a Crow to play your part, do you see? Your Birthright, your oath, they are truths no one can give to you. You must find them yourself.”
“And Rhusana?” Fie snapped. “Can you tell me aught about her? Or am I to go on some journey of self-discovery while she chases all of us into early graves?”
Little Witness began stacking the teeth into a tidy pile. “Only this: she feeds a monster, and each day it grows, and each day she lies to herself that she commands its teeth. She will be Sabor’s ruin, if you are not hers. Though I will say, if you want your grave, you’ll certainly find it in the palace.”
Fie scowled. She’d no patience for more riddles. “I was hoping for something more like ‘Here’s exactly how she plans to murder the Crows.’”
“You already know how.” Little Witness tilted her head. “There’s a young man waiting for you downstairs. He isn’t a Crow.”
The most terrible question yet arose before Fie could stuff it down: “AmI?”
