The Odion tent was just across the fire circle from the chief’s tent, so it didn’t take Kindra long to get there. She was about to knock on the door frame when she heard the High Priestess’ voice, angrier than she’d ever heard it before.
“You should have told me.”
Kindra paused, but she couldn’t hear Oak’s response through the thick deer hide of the door flap.
“She was a daughter to me!” The High Priestess yelled. “The only one I’ll ever have. And you gave her to the Obsidians out of cowardice. Do you know what that man will do to her?”
Kindra knocked. She didn’t want to hear what Obsid would do to Kaye. The door flap yanked back and a warrior named Aspen stood there. “What?”
“Oak wanted to see me.”
Aspen opened the flap. The Chief and High Priestess were inside, both looking embarrassed that they were caught fighting.
Oak tugged on the hem of his shirt. “I said tomorrow.”
“I thought you had to talk to me?”
“I thought you were too bereft to talk.”
Another pang of loss hit Kindra’s heart, but she kept her chin up. “Here I am.”
The High Priestess stood and squeezed Kindra’s shoulder. “Come see me if you need to.”
“Wait?” Kindra looked between them. “I need to know what the Obsidians are afraid of.”
Oak balked. “I’m sorry?”
“They must be afraid of something. Not Aledans—not anymore—but something.”
Oak crossed his arms and shook his head. “Whatever you’re planning, you’re more like to start an unwinnable war than get your sister back.”
The High Priestess gave him a long, stern look before speaking. “The Faye.” A shadow of shame covered her features as she turned to Kindra. “They fear the Faye.”
Kaye was Faye. “Why?”
“They believe the Faye are too powerful. They come from Mountain, their God, and at a Faye’s death Mountain explodes and rains obsidian for them to use in their spears and daggers.”
At a Faye death. Kindra stared into the High Priestess’ eyes. “They won’t kill Kaye, will they?”
“They desire a son, not obsidian.” The woman smiled mildly. “They plan to subdue a Faye, and an Odion. All of their fears become naught with this marriage.”
“They must fear something other than the Faye and Odions,” Kindra said.
The High Priestess frowned. “I know of nothing else.”
Kindra’s heart sank. Unless they could find an army of Faye—not likely as the Obsidians had one of only two in existence—they couldn’t scare the Obsidians into compliance.
Oak, surprising Kindra, spoke. “They fear the horse—the symbol of Ian Odion and his descendants. But they’re gone now.”
Kindra was too concerned with Kaye to let that sting. “Where do we get horses then?”
The chief and High Priestess looked at each other. It was the priestess who spoke. “Horses are as rare as Faye. They are in the old songs, but no one’s ever seen them.”
“I’ve seen a Faye,” Kindra said.
A wane smile graced the woman’s lips. “I am Faye, but I have never seen a horse, or heard of anyone who has.”
It was a horse who knocked Kindra from the cliff in her nightmare, but if she had to fall to her death to free Kaye she would. Still, without more men, an army of Faye, or a horse, she could do nothing.
The High Priestess squeezed Kindra’s shoulder again. “I am sorry, Warrior Odion. What has been done today cannot be undone. Not by Trina, Eoin, or Aleda.”
“We can’t just leave her there. She’s supposed to be a priestess. If you had confirmed her, we wouldn’t have given her up.” Kindra bit her tongue as tears stung her eyes.
Oak stood. “You will not speak to the High Priestess in such a manner.”
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The woman raised her hand to calm him. “She speaks out of grief, that is all.” To Kindra she said, “Your sister was not ready to take on that responsibility.”
“She was.” Kindra crossed her arms. If she hadn’t heard the priestess berating Oak earlier, she would have thought they were planning this together, but that was obviously not the case. “Kaye was the best healer; the best with energy control…”
“And not yet ready to give you up,” the High Priestess interrupted. “Nor you her. To be a priestess or a warrior you must put the safety of the tribe before all else, especially each other.”
Kindra swallowed and dropped her hands. “But she put the tribe above all else when she went with the Obsidians.”
“No. I know her heart, and she went to save you, not the rest of us.”
“That was pointless, because I’m going after her.” Kindra turned to the door, but Oak’s voice stopped her.
“Kindra Odion, if you walk out that door you are no longer a warrior. Not even a nameless one.”
She froze. Her father had asked her to become a warrior, and she’d promised on his death bed. It was a sacred promise, not yet fulfilled. But Kaye was in the hands of the men who killed Fennec, and the High Priestess was right—Kindra would always put her sister’s safety above everyone else’s.
She turned slowly and stared unflinching at the most powerful woman in the tribe. “Do I have a warrior name?”
The High Priestess stared back. “No.”
Kindra ripped at the ties of the cloak around her neck. The bright red mark stitched across it mocked her as she shoved it into Oak’s hands. “Then I’m not a warrior.”
“You will not leave this tribe!” Oak yelled as she ducked out the door. The cold didn’t touch her—she felt feverish, like her spirit was pushing out of her body in every direction, trying to get free to join Kaye.
It wasn’t until she threw the door flap aside and Gar’s worried gaze flicked up to her that she realized the full weight of what she’d done. It wasn’t just her father she failed, it was Gar and Wolf, Petoskey and Monk, even Kaye—everyone who had helped her get to the whipping rock. Kindra had taken all of that time and effort and pain and thrown it at Oak with her words and her cloak.
She covered her mouth with her hand, sat heavily on her cot and took a deep breath.
Gar put an arm around her shoulders. “What happened?”
She shook her head, hand still over her mouth so she wouldn’t start screaming again. If she started screaming now she’d never stop.
His eyes narrowed. “What did Oak do to you?” He sat back as his gaze swept over her, well-trained eyes looking for some sign of injury. “Where’s your cloak?”
Kindra dropped her hand and answered, although her voice felt like it was tripping over tears she hadn’t yet shed. “Oak has it.”
“Why?” Gar’s voice was as cold as the frost they’d trampled that morning on their doomed walk.
“Because I’m not a warrior, and I’m going after Kaye.” Now the tears did start to flow.
His arm fell away. “You quit?”
She’d never heard him so angry before. Gar normally took the punches as they came—his calm was almost eerie as the High Priestess’. “He was going to kick me out.”
Gar rubbed his eyes. “Kindra, you have no idea what you’ve done.”
“I’m sorry.” She wiped the tears away and dropped her hands in her lap. “I know I wasted your time…”
“For Eoin, stop saying that!” He stood and began to pace. “This isn’t about the past. There are plans that depend on you and…”
“Plans? What plans?”
He stopped and grimaced. She’d been practicing with Gar so long she knew all his faces, and this one meant he wasn’t supposed to say that.
“What. Plans.”
He looked away and pressed his lips together. This was a different Gar then the one she knew before the Warrior’s Ceremony. He never used to cut his gaze away to hide secrets. She’d just lost Kaye and her mother—she couldn’t lose him too.
“Gar?”
He took a deep breath. “We’ll get your sister back, I promise.” He paced a couple more times. “But we have bigger things to worry about now.”
Bigger things? She’d just lost her soul to the Obsidians. “Nothing matters more to me than Kaye.”
“Yes, you’ve proved that.”
It was nearly the same thing the High Priestess said, and Kindra didn’t know if she should be angry or humbled. Gar finally looked at her, and his gaze softened. He sat and grabbed her hands. He was the same warm, attentive man he used to be, but she couldn’t help wondering at what cost. Which was the true Gar? The one she’d known the past four summers and played with as a child? Or this new creature who lost his patience and hid plans that depended on her?
“I’m sorry,” he finally said and tucked a stray wave of hair behind her ears. “Kaye was one of my best friends, and I promise you, we will get her back. But we need the Conals out of power, and you’re the only one who can do that now.” He pressed his forehead to hers, as if they could talk without speaking. She shared a soul with Kaye and they couldn’t speak silently, except through body language and foreknowledge.
Kindra closed her eyes. If Gar wouldn’t look at her while he spilled his secrets, she refused to look at him. “What do I need to do to get Kaye back?”
His hands ran through her hair to her neck, and she thought for a moment he might kiss her, but he only held her forehead against his. “You need to be a warrior, not a sister. Fight smart, like I’ve always taught you. Apologize to Oak—"
She tried to pull away but he was stronger. “For now.”
She put her hands over his and pursed her lips. What if Oak wasn’t her enemy? He was a coward of a warrior, but they’d had peace with the Obsidians under his rule. A starving peace, perhaps, but they weren’t all dead.
What if the High Priestess was right? Kaye and Kindra would both be confirmed if they put the tribe first. Her father had always taught her that the tribe came first. Of course, he couldn’t know what it meant to be half a soul, and neither could the High Priestess. She could know many things—know the will of Aleda, even—but she could never truly know the Twin Gods, Eoin and Trina. War and Love. If Kindra could only talk to Kaye, they could figure out what to do together.
If she was going to have a chance to talk to Kaye, though, she’d have to trick both Gar and Oak into believing her compliant. She nodded against Gar’s forehead. “I’ll apologize to Oak. For now.”
This time Gar did kiss her. Kindra didn’t pull away. Fight smart, she thought. Fight smart and go to Kaye when Gar and Oak let their guard down.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “I promise, tomorrow Petoskey will tell you everything.”
“After I apologize to Oak,” she said. No one would follow her to the chief’s tent, and she could slip out of the village unnoticed while Gar and Petoskey waited for her to return.