“I like watching birds,” Yari said. “The colorful wing feathers.”

“What a marvelous bit of Lahesh wim-wom you’ve made.” Isra scanned to the foot of the mountain. Blood drained from vie’s face. Yari grabbed the tube. Isra sounded an alarm on a seashell and ran down the slope without a word, knee pain forgotten.

“What?” Awa tried not to panic.

“Keep watch.” Yari thrust the wim-wom tube at her and ran off too.

Awa’s skin prickled and her breath was short. This was a griot’s task. Calling on Sprite discipline, she looked through the tube.

Bal cradled one of Jod’s friends, Neth. Blood soaked his tunic. Neth pulled Bal’s ear to his lips and spoke. Bal nodded, her face calm except for nostrils flaring once. Awa wished the tube brought sound as close as sight. Neth’s hand fell away, his head lolled. Bal closed his eyes and indulged a silent scream before rushing into the trees. Never let the enemy know your heart.

A crow flew to Neth’s body, quick to smell death. As it pecked, Awa looked to the arid plain on the west side of the mountain. Zamanzi warriors clashed, elephants against lions. In the east, three riders left the trees and headed along the Empire Road toward Holy City. Awa stuffed the tube in her pocket and hurried to camp in gathering twilight. Every story she made for what she’d seen was terrible. She wished they’d never come to Isra’s secret place.

It was a moonless night, too many stars to count. The enclave came together around feast fires. Tents rippled in a chill wind. Fresh bread and stewed fruits steamed on the tables, food for a celebration, not a funeral. Griots set aside masks, seedpods, and bells. Deep djembe drums filled the mountain caves with somber rhythms. People huddled together and singers wailed. Jod and Cal never returned. They rode barbarian horses to Holy City with a stranger. Scouts carried Neth in and laid him in a rocky streambed grave.

“We are tested,” Isra said. “Let’s remember who Neth was and who we are.”

Nobody had much to say about Neth. Jod and Cal were his best friends, his only friends. Neth was the Holy City acolyte who Yari talked into joining the enclave, the same time Awa joined. She remembered stealing food with Neth when they were younger. Why mention that or Neth ambushing Bal for Jod? Awa made up a story about collecting mushrooms and finding the best ones that was almost true—Neth loved mushrooms. People nodded as if they remembered her lie and covered Neth with rocks. Bal held the final rock. She told what Neth said with his last breaths: