She had a terrible feeling.
Iryana made it to the Dovaki post quicker than ever—the forged weapons made her bolder. She even went to the main gate for once; the clan already knew what she’d done. The growing crescent of the Harvest Moon hung above her like a physical presence, urging her faster.
When the gate opened at her call, slight relief surged through her. If there was anyone left to man the gate, it meant her worst fears at least were not real.
As the gate opened, Iryana expected the fort to be quiet given it was the middle of the night, but it was anything but.
It was hard to see exactly what was going on. She couldn’t see the stars from how much smoke was in the air. People were running up and down the streets, carrying buckets and crates. Their clothes and skin were covered in ash, eyes fearful.
Smoke like the other night. When she’d burned the poppies.
She caught glimpses of family members in the chaos, but they were too hurried to notice her standing there.
Iryana stumbled down the street, heart crumbling. Then she saw her sister.
Hadima looked exhausted, with dark spots under her eyes and her blond braid gray with ash. Her dress and cloak were ruined and filthy; her arms were covered in scrapes.
“Hadima,” Iryana called, reaching out and grabbing her sister’s arm as she ran past. “What happened? Did Karvek do this?”
Hadima jerked to a stop, her face pale. “They burned the food stores—all of them.”
“What?” Iryana breathed as regret punched deep into her gut. “This was my fault,” she whimpered to herself, staring down at the ground.
“What do you mean, your fault?” Hadima demanded, gripped Iryana’s shoulders and forced her to look back. “When the gang came to collect, grandmother refused because the dakii had been so bad lately and supplies are tight. Threats were made, but we were given ten days to pay or there would be consequences. We were going to pay, but then they came back almost a week early and burned the food stores—said it was our last chance to get back in line.”
It was too much of a coincidence to not be related to what she did. When she burned the poppies, Karvek could have assumed it was her clan. Could have assumed it was a message that theywouldn’tbe paying.
“When,” Iryana gasped. “When did grandmother refuse to pay? What day, exactly?”
Hadima’s demeanor changed, hardened. “Five days ago. Why Iryana? What did you do?”
What did you do?
Chapter Thirty-Three
Iryana was in a full out panic now, desperately trying to find some way to fix things, to not have to admit what she’d done. “Iknewthis would happen if I went to the fort; it shouldn’t have been me.”
“What did you do!” Hadima screeched, and some of the cousins and villagers stopped to stare. To listen.
“I was trying to weaken him, get some of the new soldiers to abandon him…” Iryana curled in on herself, voice nearly toneless. “I burned his field of Beast’s Poppy to the ground. Four days ago.”
Hadima’s eyes fluttered shut, her hand clutching her head. “The day after we refused to pay, there was an attack on his fields. He thought it was us.”
When Hadima finally opened her eyes, Iryana froze. Her sister’s gaze was heavy with accusation and betrayal. It was like she was seeing Iryana for the very first time and did not like what she saw. Every muscle in her body screamed to run away, but Iryana was rooted to the spot.
“I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” Iryana pleaded weakly. But she knew it wouldn’t be enough.
“Of course you didn’t know! Because younevertalk to us, you won’t work with us!”
Iryana flinched. Hadima’s words stung, but they were the truth. She deserved it. Hadima would never look at her the same way again. Maybe that was a good thing.
Hadima started pacing. “You should have told us your plan. You should have talked to us before you attacked them! Especially after you left us to handle things!”
“I’m so sorry.” It was all she could say.
“This is your fault!” Hadima screeched. There was a crowd around them now. “You refused to be Third, said you couldn’t help. And then you just left. What did you expect us to do?”
Iryana let the words batter her and didn’t bother offering an excuse. She didn’t have one.
