Ahkio forged his way through the bloodied foyer, passing Ghrasia as he did. She gave him a brief nod, and he hesitated, asked, “When did Nasaka send for you?”

“This morning,” she said. “She suspected there may be… conflict. We arrived just in time.”

“Wish she would have expressed that… concern to me,” he said.

“Ora Nasaka’s methods of protecting the Kai tend toward less information, not more.”

“I’d like to change that.”

Ghrasia smiled, almost a smirk. He might have found it insufferable in a novice, but coming from this hard-faced leader of the militia, it was endearing. “I wish you luck with that.”

“Thank you for coming, regardless of why.”

“I would have done the same for your mother.”

“Noted,” Ahkio said. His mother. Yes. Either of them.

“Noted?” she said. “Is that all you have to say, when eight of my best lie dying here, and a good many of your kin by marriage?”

It was an unexpected punch. He rounded on her. “I have half the country out to kill me and anyone who stands next to me. I know exactly what happened here today.”

He strode away before she could reply; he wanted to remember the smirk, not what came after.

Ahkio found Nasaka in the gardens behind the temple, sitting within the stone circle dedicated to Sina, her star. A great violet orb hung suspended over a massive stone base. Tremendous red-and-purple flowers wound up the boughs of the weeping trees. She sat back on her heels, eyes closed.

He waited for her to acknowledge him. She did not.

“I’m going to bring the bodies to Garika,” Ahkio said. “I’d like Ghrasia to escort me.”

“I don’t recommend that,” Nasaka said.

“Blood’s been spilled,” Ahkio said. “I understand why it’s been done, and I need to fix it.”

“You have no idea,” Nasaka said.

The anger and betrayal bubbled up. Like being on fire. “I do have an idea,” Ahkio said. “It has something to do with dead babies.”

Nasaka raised her head. “What are you nattering about?”

“The Garikas seem to think I’m not Javia’s,” Ahkio said. He felt heat in his face and choked on his next words. It made him angry, because he knew. He knew without it being said. “You had a stillborn child, they said. The same week my mother had me. My father said it’s why you cared so much about our safety. It’s why he told you we were going to that camp in Dorinah, even though my mother wanted to go alone. You knew where we were, and that’s the only thing that saved Kirana and me that day. You’re my childless aunt. It made sense to me. Now I wonder if that was just the easier assumption.”

Nasaka placed her hands on her knees and regarded the violet orb. “I had reports last week of a dead way house keeper.”