Kindra didn’t sleep. She lay on Kaye’s cot all night with Kaye’s blanket wrapped around her. She breathed in the priestess scents and listened to Gar snore on her own cot.
Fight smart. Fight smart. Fight smart. It repeated in her head in Gar’s voice. Fight smart. He’d pounded it into her head over four summers of training. Fight smart.
She wasn’t stronger than a man. Wasn’t faster, although she was quick. She had to outsmart and outlast her opponents. It was the only way she could win. Take small beatings, wear them out, and then rush them like a river overflowing. Fast and relentless. It was Gar who taught her to fight smart.
The smart thing would be to stay. Learn more about Petoskey’s plans. Make her own well-informed plans. The Obsidian chief couldn’t live forever, and Kaye would come home. But she would be a widow and a mother then and couldn’t be a priestess—they weren’t allowed to marry.
For Kaye’s sake the smart thing would be to stop the marriage before it happened. Who knew when that would be, but Kindra doubted it would take long. A moon, at most. There would be no wearing this opponent out—Kindra would have to act fast.
Gar turned over in her cot, twisting in her blanket. Kindra watched him and wondered again which Gar he was—teacher or liar? Best friend or warrior who would use her for political gain? When had he changed? Or had he always been waiting to ambush her? Was it her dismissal that drove him to this?
She built up the fire at the first sign of birdsong and started the tea. It was strange; her mother had always done this. Kindra missed her mother more than Kaye for the first time since they left. Her sister was always gone by the time Kindra woke, but Loria had always been there with a silent cup of tea. Breakfast would be waiting by the time Kindra returned from warm-ups and Kaye returned from singing up the sun. It was a ritual that hadn’t changed in eight summers, and now Kindra would have to do it on her own.
Tears fell onto the coals as she reached over for the boiling pot of water, and the hiss woke Gar. Kindra poured two cups and handed him one.
“Thank you,” he said, but Kindra put a finger to her lips. She’d take her tea in silence like normal, or he could go home.
Gar slid off the cot to the rugs on the floor and watched her as they drank. He’d have to go to warm-ups, of course, but she wasn’t allowed. She could do them in the tent where no one would see and she could keep an eye on her breakfast, which she’d have to make herself. Loria had taught her to cook long ago, but Kindra felt lost looking at the small fire and trying to think of what to make. What did they even have? She hunted when Loria asked her to hunt, and the trading of furs for grains and vegetables happened while Kindra was at practice. How had she ever thought she could be a woman and a warrior at the same time? There was too much to do.
She finished her tea and looked through the stored food in the back of the tent. There was a basket of wheat flour, and one of corn meal. Apples. A few wilted greens. Plenty of sausage and dried meat. Some smoked fish. A clay jar with jam, and another with fat. In the back was a flask of vinegar wine Kaye used for dressing wounds.
Kindra would make a big breakfast of corn meal porridge and venison sausage and leave enough for Gar and Petoskey. By the time they finished eating and wondered why she hadn’t returned she could be in Deer Valley.
“I’ll make breakfast for you,” Kindra said as Gar set his empty cup down and rose. “I’ll wait for Oak in his tent.”
Gar bent over and kissed the top of her head. She had to stop herself from elbowing him. When had she given him permission to treat her as a good little tent wife?
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“He’ll forgive you,” Gar said and grabbed his things. “I’ll see you when you’re a warrior again.”
He ducked out the door and Kindra started making breakfast. She packed a small bag with things she would need, strapped her dagger to her waist, ate quickly, and left the village just as the sun burst over the cliff. The last note of the priestess song—missing Kaye’s voice and sounding empty for it—followed Kindra into the trees near the river.
It would take all day to get to Fie Obsid on foot. Kindra had never been before, but she’d heard her father tell stories of his trips before the war.
She walked along the river path, past Fie Ronna. The sun was full over the cliffs and the warriors would just be returning home for breakfast unless they skipped practice to head out on patrol. Two warriors were sent to each village daily for patrol. If there was trouble, one could run back to Fie Eoin to alert the chief while the other tried to control the situation in the village.
“Kindra! Hey!”
She groaned. She thought she left early enough to avoid the warriors changing patrol.
“You on patrol too?” It was the newly-named Kingfisher. Pike and Osprey were with him.
Osprey crossed his arms. “You didn’t hear the news, boys? Kindra’s no longer a warrior. You quit, didn’t you?”
Kingfisher gasped, “You quit?”
Pike’s grin said he already knew. Where his brother’s pleas and plans had failed, that grin almost sent her back to Oak, begging to be a warrior again. Pike’s grin said I won.
“Why would you quit?” Kingfisher had always been one of the few trainees who didn’t make fun of Kindra, and she appreciated that. But they were never really friends, and she didn’t have time to waste.
“So I could follow Kaye.” Kindra tried to pass them, but Osprey stepped in her way.
“The chief says you aren’t allowed to leave the valley.”
“Why don’t you run back and tell him, then? I’ll be in Deer Valley before he can stop me.”
Pike grinned and shifted the spear in his hands. “It doesn’t take much to stop one woman.”
Kingfisher looked between them. “You can’t attack her—she’s unarmed.”
Osprey’s arms remained crossed. “No one’s attacking her unless she continues to Fie Obsid. Pike, please escort Kindra to the chief. I’d hate to let this poor, defenseless woman walk home by herself.”
Kindra glared at Osprey, her mouth pressed into a line. If she didn’t leave today, Gar wouldn’t let her out of his sight, and she wouldn’t be able to sneak out again until it was too late to save Kaye.
Pike grabbed her arm to lead her home, but Kindra pulled away and punched him. He growled deep in his throat and hit her hard in the side with his spear. Kindra doubled over, hands around her side, pain exploding through her ribs. He swung the spear in the other direction, and it connected with the side of her head. Her vision went white and Kindra went down on one knee as her broken ear bled freely down the side of her face.
“What are you doing?” Kingfisher yelled. “Stop!” He grabbed Pike’s arm.
When her vision cleared, Kindra screamed all her frustration and anger and lunged at Pike, catching him around the waist and sending him down on his back, nearly taking Kingfisher down too. They wrestled for the spear, feet kicking, until Pike drew back his fist to punch her. She got the spear away from him and put the tip to his neck, and his cocked arm didn’t swing.
“That’s enough,” Osprey said.
“Kindra,” Kingfisher hissed.
She stood slowly, the tip of the spear at Pike’s neck. “Just like day one all over again, huh Jorsen? I don't know what Eoin could possibly see in you.” She spit, threw the spear down on his chest and turned to face Osprey and Kingfisher, fists clenched. A sharp echo of fear travelled through her bond with Kaye, and she knew she had to get to Fie Obsid as soon as possible. She’d fight Osprey and Kingfisher too if she had to.
“I’ll complete your mark!” Pike swung the spear at her back. He was wild with anger and Kindra turned, ready to defend herself, but a sudden tug on her twin bond drained her energy and she couldn’t get her arms up in time. She staggered as the tip of the spear ripped into her face and shoulder, then stumbled backwards, twisting her ankle as she fell. Blood streamed down her neck on both sides and ran down her arm, staining her shirt.
Pike stood over her and glared, his eye beginning to swell and bruise. “No wonder Eoin didn’t name you.”
Osprey pulled Pike away as Kingfisher knelt next to her. “Are you ok?”
Her ears rang and her head felt full of wood as the pull on her twin bond increased. She stared at Pike’s back, at the named mark, and wondered again why the God would name him, but not her. His mark was the last thing she saw before the energy of her twin bond snapped back into her with full force and she passed out.