Chapters (41)
- PART ONE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- PART TWO
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- PART THREE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
His brother-in-law and he were still close though Chance’s wife had been dead eight years, most of which Chance had spent living in Texas. When the elders of his own kiva had shown their disapproval of Chance’s actions, once he knew there would be retribution for his slaying of the Suuke, he knew he couldn’t go to them for help. He’d confided all of this in Calliope; he had no one else to share it with. It would have been easy enough to let her stay on the rez, to continue pretending they were married, a family. She wouldn’t be in as much danger then. But he was still at risk. And he couldn’t ask her to stay. Not without him. He’d violated too many religious codes. He’d exposed too much. If she wouldn’t stay as his wife, he couldn’t ask her to stay as his widow. He had to get her out. He’d promised to get her back to her family.
Now that it was time, she didn’t know if she was ready. Her stomach twisted. After all these months, she couldn’t imagine what leaving would feel like. What leaving him would mean. She asked, “How far are you coming?”
His voice low, crumpled as dried corn husks, “As far as I can.”
“Will you come all the way across … with me?”
“What are you asking, mujer?”
She didn’t know. She had to get back to Phoenix.
The first night after her healing ceremony, she’d stopped bleeding and could leave the house. Chance had asked Malia to watch the corn girl, lying that he was taking his wife out for the evening. Malia had been so happy for her son she hadn’t noticed or had chosen to ignore the fear in his eyes. He was taking her to Arlen, speaker of their religion, keeper of their way of life, interpreter of the gods, the Elder brother of Zuni, who was also his brother-in-law. Calliope had expected someone much older, with long white hair and a face rutted with wrinkles; a male counterpart to Bisabuela. Instead, Arlen was midforties, barrel-chested, walked with a slight limp, and had scars on his face that suggested he’d survived the streets outside of Zuni; he was leather-worn but handsome, though not compared to Chance, and only slightly shorter, with a rumpled crew cut. His physique was fit with the exception of his mild potbelly.