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Because the Gods Left

Page 157

by Madeline James

Kladara and one of the volunteers who had lived in the area before the beasts came set out to identify possible fallback locations deeper in the valley, just in case they couldn’t hold the post. The places they had previously chosen would be far too small for the number of people they were expecting.

Edvar and Levek shoveled the snow away from the end of the escape tunnels that led from a hatch in the kitchen and in the side yard’s cellar over to the next ridge, ensuring they’d have access to that route.

The First worked with those living in the village to consolidate their homes, making as many of the buildings available for those that would be coming as possible.

The blacksmith and Tonhald churned out as many spears, axes, clubs, and basic bows as they could. They would be able to put a weapon in the hands of any who stayed.

Hadima retreated to her workshop to prepare the things they’d need to help the injured, using Misha as her assistant. The whole clan was educated on battlefield injuries and could bandage a basic wound and put in stitches, but Hadima went over it all again.

Iryana sent a missive to Pyetar to gather the brigades and plan their retreat, and then pulled Misha into extra training sessions, doing everything she could to make sure her little sister was ready to fight for her life.

Uncle Byorsh and some volunteers built sunken earth houses that would work to keep soldiers or others seeking shelter warm.

They all moved with frantic urgency. Only a few dakii came sniffing at their border, though they received word that the fort was dealing with daily attacks. Once they retreated, Iryana worried those attacks would be at their wall instead.

Iryana tracked every day carefully. Each sunrise was one day closer to the war being over, but also things got worse. Earthquakes caused almost as many injuries as the dakii. They had braced their home as much as possible to withstand the shaking, but Iryana worried it would eventually come crashing down. It was the eighth day of the Bitter Moon, perhaps five weeks to go until one god destroyed Istri or the rest saved whatever survived the war.

“Thank you for letting me come,” Hadima called over to her for the third time that morning as Iryana led her through the Yuresh Valley.

The wind had let up enough that she could see a way in front of her. Hadima crunched through the snow beside her.

Her clan had patrolled the valley twice that morning, and she was confident there were no dakii to worry about, but it didn’t stop the feeling that things were watching her from the trees. Hunting her.

She knew it was a risk going beyond the wall; Hadima wasn’t much of a fighter and Iryana didn’t have that much use of her forgings left in her. They had reduced the risk as much as they could, but this meeting was one she needed to attend herself.

They were meeting to discuss the retreat beyond the Dovaki Post’s walls.

“Dealing with the injured is going to be a huge priority,” Iryana responded, echoing Hadima’s words back to her. It was her sister’s argument for coming along, to see what supplies the 18th had and the status of their injured, so she could make sure the Dovaki Post was prepared to handle them.

“I haven’t been inside the walls,” Hadima reminded her. “I’m curious about it.”

She smiled at her older sister. “There’s some good people there.”

“You know…” Hadima trailed off. “You can rely on me more to help relieve this burden.”

“You already do a lot, Hadi,” Iryana argued, though the offer warmed her.

“I mean the weight of it all, the stress.” Hadima squeezed her shoulder. “You can tell me about your fears, your worries. Let me carry some of it too.”

Iryana looked at her sister, elegant even in her oversized winter coat, with most of her face covered. “Okay.”

Hadima grinned. “Good.”

They walked through the winter forest, watching their surroundings carefully.

Iryana paused when she noticed the foxlike face and serpentine body of one of Mhakiza’s spies lounging on a birch tree, melted ice dripping down from the branch it was draped over.

She locked eyes with the creature. She knew Mhakiza spied through them. Could Mhakiza see her now through those small, too-black eyes?

Iryana didn’t notice her sister was moving until she’d already slipped past her, ambling over the snow toward the tree.

“What are you doing?” Iryana hissed, but Hadima ignored her and kept creeping toward the creature.

“Hush,” Hadima scolded, sending a warning glance back at Iryana.

So, Iryana watched, worry growing inside her, as Hadima unwrapped a half-eaten meat pie, the filling spilling out. The fox-serpent watched that pie, its head tilting slowly. As Hadima reached the bottom of the tree, she slowly held up the pie. Iryana tensed as the creature climbed down the tree, claws digging into the ice-crusted bark.

Hadima tensed, bracing herself, as the fox-serpent stretched its head from the tree and snatched the pie out of her gloved hand with a snap of its teeth. Iryana jumped, watching helplessly. But the fox-serpent just crawled higher back into the tree, swallowing the pie whole.