She stared at him.
“The Fie I raised couldn’t sit about a shrine and trust the nation to sort itself out before she starves,” Pa said. “You wanted better for usbeforethe queen brought hell to our door. You weren’t content with achief’s lot, you weren’t content with a Crow’s lot, and you were right to ask for more. So I’ll not cast you out, girl. But can you tell me true: You’d be content to waste away in a shrine, hoping the prince survives to keep his oath?”
She shook her head, fear trying to strangle a terrible, eager relief. “I can’t take the band into that kind of danger.”
“They’ll stay here until you’ve done what you need to.”
“A Crow alone on the road is good as dead.”
A strange look crossed Pa’s face. He reached for where his chief’s string had been, only it had been whittled down to but a few scarce teeth. He touched one and said to the empty air, “It’s Cur. Send the visitors round back, if you please.”
At Fie’s bewildered look, he gestured to the statue. “Gen-Mara, the Messenger. Little Witness told me the witchery would be different on my own grave. Outside of her tower, she’s naught but a tot with a sharp memory. Here I can speak to anyone so long as I have their tooth. I’ll knot one of yours into the string before you go.”
“I’m not going, Pa.” There was something doubly vexing about arguing against something she hungered to do. “You really want to roll shells on the odds of one Crow against the queen of Sabor?”
“I’d take those odds,” a familiar voice called, footsteps crunching closer.
A moment later, two figures stepped into the clearing, two she’d figured good as dead.
Khoda gave a half-baked rendition of the Hawk salute as Viimo looked about, sizing up the statue and the firepit.
“Homey, this,” the skinwitch concluded.
Pa set a hand on Fie’s shoulder. “You’re not going alone.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
GOOD LUCK
“Found them lurking outside a few hours after sunup.” Pa gestured for them to sit on the boulders. “Apparently Khoda here remembers the way.”
“Did Khoda here also tell you he’s a Swan spy?” Fie asked.
“BlackSwan,” Pa drawled.
“It turns out your fatheralsohas a considerable supply of Crane teeth,” Khoda said wryly as he lowered himself onto a stone, folding his arms. “And if it’s any comfort, I only remembered it was in this stretch of the road. Viimo was the one to find the entrance, and even then…”
Viimo tossed a handful of leather scraps to Fie. “I had something of yours to follow. And your trail still went cold a few paces off the flatway.”
Fie unfurled the leather, recognized the stamp work, and couldn’t speak a moment as a hot lump swelled in her throat. They’d even managed to salvage the part of the bag where Tavin’s tooth had been stitched in. If she called its spark now, would it tell her why—
No.Thewhyof it didn’t matter. What Tavin had done was done.
“How did you get out?” she asked instead.
Khoda flashed a grin. “The real question is why I stuck around to begin with. The nice thing about Hawks is they assume all you have to do is tie someone up and put them under watch, and that’s enough to keep them in place.”
“That’s usually how it works, aye,” Viimo said. Fie sneered at her on principle.
“Well, if the master-general didn’t want me to escape, she could have been a bit more thorough, that’s all I’m saying. Rhusana had to collect hair from every Hawk in the procession; you’d think at least one of them would have spotted it like I did. And then I needed this one”—Khoda jerked a thumb at Viimo—“to make sure we were going the right way.”
Four days ago, Fie would have found Khoda’s sass more palatable. Now it only reminded her of Tavin. She narrowed her eyes. “And just why were you looking for me?”
He coughed. “Right. To business. I figured you might be interested in finding another way out of this that doesn’t involve seeing who dies first, the Crows or the rest of Sabor.”
Fie traded looks with Pa. “I’m listening,” she said slowly. “But if you’re looking for a conqueror, you’ve come to the wrong witch.”
“We have a saying among the Black Swans,” Khoda said, looking about the ground until he found a long stick. “The only difference between a conqueror and a thief is an army.”
