The group wanted to cast him down a shaft. Or banish him to the punishing desert. Someone even suggested I bring the stars down on him, which earned them a glare as hot as a bolt of starfire.
“I don’t just throw stars at people,” I growled.
The shepherds looked down and away. At their feet or at the rocks. Because they saw it with their own eyes: how I’d tried to kill Ghoa. How I’d ravaged the Sky Palace with starfire during Temujin’s rescue.
I take full responsibility for what happened in the Grand Courtyard. The night and starfire aremyobligation. But Idoblame Ghoa for framing me for a massacre. For manipulating me and deceiving me to the point that I felt compelled to use my power against her. I nearly let her turn me into the monster I’d spent years running from. A monster these people will never forget.
The shepherds part as I limp through the main cavern toward the commotion, but it doesn’t make me feel important or revered, as it did when I was a member of the Kalima warriors. Instead of bowing with respect and veneration, the shepherds recoil and raise their hands to cover their faces, as if I might slash them with my beastly claws. Or bring the night crashing down on them for sport. No matter that I haven’t so much as raised my voice since we left Sagaan.
I am not responsible for Nariin!I want to fill every tunnel and crevasse with the truth.Why bother calling for my help only to scramble away when I answer?
I didn’t expect the shepherds to warm to me immediately. But I did expect them to give me a chance. Ghoa and the Sky King had left them to freeze and starve to death on the winter grazing lands. And the unified Zemyans and Shoniin will invade Sagaan any day—if they haven’t already. These weak, flailing shepherds would have been the first to perish. Or be taken prisoner.
I make my way around a cluster of stalagmites that form a sort of partition between the caverns, and slip into the smaller room, where we’ve been storing food and supplies.
Serik stands in the center of the space with his arms outstretched, holding back two shouting men who have large riotous groups gathered behind them.
“You’re trying to kill my family!” the older of the men, Iree, roars.
“Only becauseyou’redetermined to killus! You broke the code first!” Bultum, a round-cheeked and generally good-natured shepherd, screams back.
“I’m going to kill youbothif you don’t stop hollering!” Serik bellows loudest of all. Flames leap from his palms, and it wasn’t on purpose if his surprised yelp is any indication. It does, however, effectively force both sides to lurch back.
If there’s one person who’s discovered they dislike leading even more than I do, it’s Serik.
“We should let the shepherds tear each other apart,” he’d muttered only two nights into our journey across the grasslands, during which time we had to deal with a broken wagon wheel, arguments over camping spots, unfair grazing rotations, and places where people could build fires. “Survival of the fittest and all that.”
I’d rolled my eyes at Serik’s overblown suggestion. “They’ll settle soon enough. They’re just frightened and anxious and out of their depth. Think of all they’ve been through. We must be patient.”
Little did I know the shepherdswouldn’tsettle. Their panic and paranoia would only grow. It wasn’t long before Serik’s dark thoughts began circling my own mind.
“I’m glad to see you’re de-escalating the situation.” I flash Serik a teasing smile as I approach the standoff. We learned quickly that you can either laugh or cry at these exasperating disputes, and I try to do the former for the sake of both of our sanities.
“You try reasoning with them!” Serik flings his arms above his head, and another burst of heat rushes from his hands. His control over his Kalima power is still tenuous at best, and his aggravated gasp makes me smile even wider. Which makes him even madder, but I can’t help it. He’s kind of adorable when he’s frustrated: his freckled cheeks get all ruddy and he pulls at his hair, which has grown nearly to his ears now.
“We only want what’s rightfully ours!” Bultum’s small but terrifying wife, Emani, yells from behind him.
“Our portion of grain doesn’t belong to you,” Iree spits back, and several others in his company agree. “If your family squandered your portion, you can’t dip back into the grain and take ours.”
“What are you talking about? We’ve had nothing for days—can’t you see that?” Bultum gestures to his family, who do, indeed, look rather emaciated. But no more than anyone else. Between the snow-covered grasslands and the punishing sand, Ashkar is not a bountiful or forgiving place in the winter. We’re all slowly starving.
I join Serik in the center of the fray, which causes both sides to retreat even farther. “What’s going on? Who’s stealing from whom? And why? We portioned rations just this week.”
It was an excruciating process. We had to convince all of the shepherds to place their provisions into a common collection, which was then redistributed evenly to ensure everyone had food. The ones with plenty were obviously incensed and the ones with empty oil casks and grain sacks reached greedily for the piles.
“Exactly!” Iree jumps in. “We were all given portions, but they’re dipping into ours.” He points at the half-filled burlap sack in Bultum’s hands.
“Because we had no portion after you stole ours!”
“How dare you accuse us of thievery!” a young man behind Iree shouts.
I wait for them to stop yelling, trying to keep calm, since Serik is rubbing his temples like he might explode. “What do you mean you had no portion?” I ask Bultum.
“I mean exactly that! When I came to collect our rations, there was nothing to collect. Iree has never liked me because my sheep produce finer wool, so I knew he was to blame and I made restitutions where necessary.”
Iree’s eyes look as if they’re going to pop from his skull. “Your wool is no finer than ours!”
“I’m certain your portion is here.” I rush to the stacks to conduct a thorough search. “Maybe it just fell behind the rocks or was misplaced in a different pile?” But there’s nothing in any of the potholes, nothing tucked behind the outcroppings.
