Before long, the Great Mother began sinking low on the horizon.
“It’s getting late,” Matthew said to Kiva. “We need to start walking back to our ship if we want to be there by sundown.”
Kiva nodded.
But Matthew didn’t go. He lingered nearby.
“What is it?” Kiva asked.
“The gun. We need it back. Our weapons could corrupt your people. We don’t want that.”
“I understand,” Kiva said. “But we’d rather be corrupted by your weapons than be killed by them. You haven’t shown yourselves to be very trustworthy with them.”
“I know,” Matthew said. “And I’m sorry. But I promise you that things are different now. If you allow us to take the gun, I’ll lock it up and we won’t use it again. We know now that we don’t need it. You’re a peaceful people. We can be peaceful too.”
Kiva considered for a moment, then went to speak with the men. She got the gun, returned to Matthew, and put it in his hands.
“Be careful,” she said as she let it out of her grasp.
“Thank you,” Matthew said. He turned to go.
“Matthew,” came Kiva’s voice from behind him.
He stopped and looked back over his shoulder.
“You’ll come again tomorrow?”
Matthew blinked. “If you want me to.”
“I do,” Kiva said. “There are things I need to discuss with you. You’ve asked many questions today. But I have my own questions to ask of you.”
Matthew agreed and began moving away.
“Matthew,” Kiva called out to him once more.
He turned.
“When you come,” she said, “come alone.”
As the Strangers left the village, Kiva moved to intercept the Forsaken. She put a hand on one of the men’s shoulders, and he stopped and turned to look at her.
“Let them go,” she said.
“But the weapon,” he said, watching the Strangers as they moved into the outer village.
Kiva shook her head. “Let them go,” she repeated. “We don’t have anything to fear from them. Not anymore.”
The men nodded. Their bodies relaxed. Their grips loosened around their spears.
“Where’s Po?” Kiva asked after a moment.
The men glanced at each other, shrugged, then looked back to Kiva.
“Don’t know,” one of them said. “I was keeping my attention on the woman, the one Po told me to watch, and—”
“It’s all right,” Kiva said. “Go back to Xendr Chathe. Tell him that I’m pleased with your help, but that it isn’t needed anymore. Tell him the Strangers are no longer a threat to us.”
Both men nodded. “Thank you, Vagra,” each muttered in turn.
And then they were gone.
Kiva turned to see Quint, Thruss, and Rehal standing nearby. The three had wandered around while the Strangers explored, Quint straying but never going too far from Kiva as Rehal and Thruss ranged farther to observe the reactions of the Sisters to the Strangers’ presence.
Quint ran forward and wrapped her arms around Kiva’s waist. As Kiva felt her sister’s arms squeezing her, something seemed to unwind in her chest, a tightness that she hadn’t even realized was there until now.
She opened her eyes and looked down. Quint, without letting go of Kiva’s waist, looked up at her, eyes wide.
“Thank you,” Kiva said.
“For what?”
Kiva shook her head. “I don’t know. For being here, I guess. It helped, having you nearby. It made me feel less alone. I don’t think I could’ve made it through this day without you.”
Quint smiled a smile so wide and radiant that it made Kiva dizzy. She took a deep breath before continuing.
“It’s getting late. You should go back to Grath.”
Quint nodded, then left for the outer village, giving Kiva one last hug before she went.
Thruss and Rehal moved close, and Kiva greeted them with a grim look. They made a tight circle and spoke in low voices.
“Okay, tell me,” Kiva said. “What are the Sisters saying?”
“They’re quiet, mostly,” Thruss said after a moment of heavy silence.
Kiva looked to Rehal. “How about you?”
Rehal shrugged. “It went as well as it could have, I suppose. Those who did come out of their huts were mostly curious. A few of them were angry. They asked me what you were thinking, bringing outsiders into the camp.”
“They reacted well to the woman,” Thruss said. “Some of them even allowed her to touch them, to take their blood. Those who did bragged to the others that they had touched a Stranger, as if it was something to be proud of. They told the others that there was nothing to fear.”
“Yes, the woman helped,” Rehal agreed. “But they kept their distance from the two others. That boy who kept to the edge of the encampment. And the other one. Your boy.”
Kiva blinked. Her heart thudded. “My boy? Is that what they’re saying about him?”
Rehal flinched and bowed her head. “I’m sorry, Vagra. I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just, the way you were with him …”
“That’s enough,” Kiva said. She didn’t want to hear any more.
But it was too late. She could already hear everything. The thoughts of Thruss and Rehal, the thoughts of the Sisters as they began to retreat to their huts for the night or go to their men in the village.
The way she talked to that boy. The way she walked so closely to him, practically touching.
If I didn’t know better … If I didn’t know better I’d think …
No. It can’t be. She wouldn’t. Not the Vagra.
But the way she looked at him.
It’s not right.
Kiva pushed the voices away.
“What about Po?” she asked. “Did you see where he went?”
“No, Vagra,” Rehal said. “I was too busy with the Sisters.”
Thruss, her lips pressed tight together, made a noise in the back of her throat.
“What is it?” Kiva asked. “Tell me.”
“It’s probably nothing.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
Thruss hesitated a moment more, then said, “He was speaking to Kyne. I saw that much. Kyne pulled him away by the arm and then whispered in his ear. I didn’t see him leave, though.”
Kiva held stock still for a moment, then nodded slowly.
“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you both. You’ve been a help to me today.” She paused and forced a smile. “To your people. To the Vagri. I’m grateful to you.”
Thruss and Rehal nodded, accepting Kiva’s gratitude, and left.
Kiva watched them go, then made for the other side of the camp. She walked faster and faster with every step. Soon she was running, her dress swishing around her thighs.
She slowed when she came upon Kyne’s hut. Her steps halted just outside the door. She lifted her hand and pulled aside the cloth hanging in the doorway.
There was a small cot covered with rumpled blankets and a low table beside it. An oil lamp, the wick blackened and extinguished.
Kiva came back outside and wandered around the hut, looking this way and that as if she expected to see Po and Kyne somewhere nearby.
But no. They were gone.
Kiva let out a sigh and hung her head, and as she did she spotted something on the ground nearby. She moved to examine it more closely.
It was an arrow. She crouched by it, her toes nearly touching the grass fletching, but she didn’t pick it up. Her eyes followed the line of the shaft toward the arrowhead, covered in the dried, rusty red of blood. Stranger blood.
Matthew’s blood.
Kiva lifted her head, following the arrow’s line toward where it pointed on the horizon. It pointed toward the rock outcropping and the stone pit at the edge of the Vagri’s land.
It pointed to where the Forsaken lived.