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never turn our back on a fire—as you did just now when you left the hut.”
    â€œSorry.”
    â€œYou didn’t know.”
    In the moonlight, the smoke on the Mountain glowed. Pirra thought of the stories they told on Keftiu about the fabulously wealthy island that the Earthshaker had destroyed.
    â€œIt looks dangerous,” she said.
    â€œ
Dangerous?
The Lady keeps us
safe
! When our Ancestors first came to Thalakrea, She took human form and told them to build a village here. She warned them that everything beyond the Neck belongs to the Wild, and is guarded by Her sacred creatures, the lions. Our Ancestors honored Her wishes—and in return, She taught them how to free the copper from the stone.”
    â€œBut that smoke . . . Don’t such mountains wake the Earthshaker? On Keftiu we fear earthshakes more than anything.”
    â€œSo do we, but the Lady
protects
us from the Earthshaker. Never in a thousand years have we had more than a tremor.”
    Hekabi emerged from the hut and came toward them. “I thought you’d run away,” she said to Pirra.
    â€œWhere would I go?” Pirra said tartly.
    Merops glanced from one to the other, then got to his feet. “Watch the fire,” he told his daughter. “And look after our guest.”
    When he’d gone in, Pirra said, “Am I a captive here?”
    Hekabi’s lip curled. “What makes you say that?”
    â€œWas
any
of what you told me true? Have you even
been
to the White Mountains?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œSo—why were you on Keftiu?”
    Hekabi hesitated. “There are others like me, who hate the Crows. We talk. We share what we’ve heard.”
    â€œYou’re taking a risk telling me that.”
    â€œAm I?” Her bright eyes pierced Pirra’s.
    â€œIs that why you came back to Thalakrea?” said Pirra. “To fight the Crows? Where do I fit in?”
    Hekabi shrugged. “I needed gold to get home. You needed to escape.”
    Pirra chewed her lip. She had more gold hidden in her pouch; maybe she could buy passage off the island. But where would she go?
    Hekabi woke the fire with a stick, loosing a flurry of sparks. “Tomorrow I’ll show you what the Crows have done to Thalakrea. The forests they’ve cut down for their furnaces, the holes they’ve dug in Her flesh. You Keftians don’t realize what it costs to make all your bronze tripods and your mirrors . . .”
    â€œWhy are you angry with Keftiu?” said Pirra. “We’ve always been friends with the Islands. We even speak the same tongue.”
    Hekabi glared at her with sudden animosity. “Would friends have stood by and watched us overrun?”
    â€œWhat could we have done?”
    â€œHas the High Priestess no power?”
    â€œOf course! But the Crows are
warriors
. We’re not.”
    â€œSo that’s your answer? Do nothing?”
    â€œWhat’s yours?”
    â€œIt’s late,” snapped Hekabi. “Go and get some sleep.”
    Afterward, Pirra lay staring at the rafters. Hekabi’s outburst had unsettled her; and reminded her uncomfortably of her mother.
    In her mind, she saw Yassassara standing on the topmost balcony of the House of the Goddess. She wore a skirt of Keftian purple, its folds sharply scented with oil of myrrh. Her sea-blue bodice was open at the breasts, her waist cinched with a belt sewn with green glass beads. Her arms were twined with silver snakes, and from her neck hung her great gold collar of many Suns. Her coiled black hair was pierced by bronze pins with rock-crystal heads the size of pomegranates. Her hawk-like face was painted white, her eyes and lips fierce red, and she was spreading wide her saffron talons, sending spells far out into the night to find her daughter . . .
    Pirra was woken by Hekabi shaking her.
    It was dark, but everyone was awake, and frightened. Then Pirra saw the