“Sure they do. When they see what’s after them.”

“What’s after them?”

She didn’t like saying the words in here, but there was no other way to tell the story. “Smiling Jack. He hunts gods.”

“Why?”

A good sign, Izza thought. Kai was asking the right questions: the story questions. “We don’t know. Doesn’t like them. Maybe he’s hungry.”

A pallor crept spread across Kai’s skin, the kind of fear that came slowly and didn’t leave easly. “You worshipped the Wind Woman.”

“I thanked her. I listened to the Wind Woman stories Sophie told. I missed her when Smiling Jack got her. Cried awhile. First time I cried in years.”

“You saw her die?”

“Don’t need to see a goddess die to know,” Izza said. “You feel it in your heart.”

“When was this?”

“Two years back, after the rains.”

“And after that, the Blue Lady came?”

“No. After that, the Red Eagle.” She pointed.

“How many gods do you have?”

“As many as show up. As many as you see here.”

Kai turned in a circle, counting paintings. “How long has this been going on?”

“The Wind Woman came first, I think. Sophie would know, she was the first storyteller. Priest, I guess you’d call her. She got old, though. Penitents took her last winter.”

“Gods.”

“It happens.”

“Tell me about the Blue Lady.”

“I was the first to hear her. After they took Sophie I climbed the mountain alone and waited, watched the sky. This was early spring. The Lady stepped out of the stone and sat next to me.” She pointed to the blue outline on the wall behind them both, the woman with horns and wings and backward-pointing legs, sharp blue teeth bared in a defiant grin. “We talked. She needed to run. I needed, we needed, someone to hide us. Back in spring, you know, there was a big purge. Watch tried to round up all the kids and send ’em off to work camps on the outer islands.”

“I didn’t know.” Kai’s voice sounded hollow.

“She helped us,” Izza said. “Everyone told stories about her, but mine were the best. I took Sophie’s place. I liked the Lady, and she liked me. More than liked, over time. I taught her to run and hide. Turns out gods don’t know that stuff unless they learn from us: she was like a kid, only bigger. She lasted longer than the rest, maybe because she listened better and learned more. The Lady helped us set our feet in the right place at the right time, gave us that tickle lets you know someone’s watching when you think you’re safe.” And this was the hard part. “She was a partner. A friend. You’re a priest. You know how it is.”

“I don’t,” Kai said. “Not like that.”

“She died three months back. I heard her scream at night.”